CHAPTER XVIII.
JOURNEY FROM NOVO TCHERKASK ALONG THE DON—ANOTHER KNAVISH POSTMASTER—MUSCOVITE MERCHANTS—COSSACK STANITZAS.
Beyond Novo Tcherkask the road to Astrakhan runs northward along the right bank of the Don; the country still continuing the same naked and monotonous appearance; it is only in the neighbourhood of the river that its desolation is here and there relieved by a few clumps of trees in the ravines.
It is certainly not without reason that the Russians boast of the rapid travelling in their country; its posts would be unrivalled in Europe were it not for the vexations practised by the employés at the stations. On the whole we had hitherto had no great reason to complain; the official papers with which we were furnished smoothed many difficulties; but at the first station beyond Novo Tcherkask we endured the common fate of all who travel without titular grade or decoration, and were mercilessly fleeced. We arrived towards evening followed by another carriage of which we were but a few minutes in advance. A caleche without horses seemed a bad omen to us as we entered the court-yard; and the first answer given to our Cossack was, that we could not have horses until the next morning. The prospect of passing the night in a miserable hovel was disagreeable enough; but what remedy had we with a postmaster, who opening all his stables, showed that he had no horses? After waiting a full half hour to no purpose our interpreter explored the vicinity of the station, and on his return, some rubles bestowed on the head of the establishment procured us all the horses we wanted. We put to and started immediately, leaving our companions behind us; but they overtook us an hour afterwards, having done like ourselves; and so it appeared at last, that there were horses enough for us all.
The travellers who followed us were young Muscovite merchants returning from some fair in the Caucasus. They amused themselves all night with letting off rockets and all kinds of fireworks, the sudden flash of which, lighting up the deep darkness of the steppes, produced a most striking effect.
We passed on the following day through several stanitzas. These Cossack hamlets have a far more pleasing appearance than the Russian villages. The houses of which they consist are small, almost all of them built of painted wood, with green window-shutters. They have only a ground-floor, surrounded by a miniature gallery, and look as if they were merely intended for pretty toys. The interiors are extremely neat, and show an appreciation of domestic comfort of which the Russians betray no trace. You find in them table-linen, delf plates, forks, and all the most necessary utensils. The Cossacks have usually two dwellings adjoining each other. One of these, that which we have been speaking of, is occupied in summer, and almost always contains one handsome apartment, adorned with stained paper, images, flowers, and groups of arms; it is the room used on grand occasions, and for the accommodation of strangers. The other dwelling is built of earth, and resembles the kates of the Muscovite peasants; it contains but one room, in which the whole family huddle themselves together in winter for the more warmth.
In general, only women and children are to be seen in the stanitzas. The whole male population is under arms, with the exception of some veterans who have purchased, by forty years' service, the right of returning home to die. All the burden of labour falls on the women; it is they who must repair the houses, whitewash them, dress the furs, take care of the children, and tend the cattle. It is really inconceivable how they can accomplish so many laborious tasks.
At Piatisbanskaia, a charming stanitza, shaded by handsome trees, and rising in an amphitheatre on the banks of the Don, we turned off from the post-road, and after crossing the river, entered on a sea of sand, through which we worked our way with immense difficulty. The peasants' horses are less used than those of the post to such toilsome marches, and it was really piteous to see their panting distress. The reflected glare of the sun, and the absence of any breath of wind, made this day's journey one of the most oppressive we encountered. It took us four hours to get over nine versts (less than six English miles). Though I wore a thick veil and blue spectacles, my eyelids were so swollen I could scarcely open them. Towards noon we at last reached a poor lonely village, where we rested until nightfall.
The country from Piatisbanskaia is dreary, and void of vegetation. The stanitzas are few and far between, the land lies waste, and the sand-hills and hot winds betoken the approach to the deserts of the Caspian. Nothing is more saddening to the imagination, than the lifeless aspect and uniform hues of these endless plains. One is surprised to meet in them, from time to time, some miserable Cossack villages, and cannot tell how the inhabitants can exist amidst such desolation. This sad sterility is the work of men, rather than of nature. The present system of government of the Don Cossacks is an insuperable bar to agricultural improvement; and so long as it exists, the land must remain uncultivated.
But, as we have already remarked, all is contrast in Russia. Extremes of all kinds meet there without any transition: from a desert you pass into a populous town, from a cabin to a palace, from a Tatar mosque into an ancient Christian cathedral, from an arid plain into the cheerful German colonies. Surprises follow one upon the other without end, and give a peculiar zest to travelling, scarcely to be experienced in any other part of Europe.
It is particularly in approaching Sarepta that one feels the force of these reflections: the novel impressions that there await the traveller who arrives benumbed in soul from the dreary wilderness, come upon him with the bewildering effect of a marvellous dream. Even were Sarepta whisked away, and set down in the middle of Switzerland, one could not fail to be delighted with so charming a place; but to feel all its real excellence, one should come to it weary and worn as we were, one should have known what it was to long for a little shade and water, as for manna from the skies, and have plodded on for many days through a country like that we have described, under the unmitigating rays of a roasting sun.
Picture to yourself a pretty little German town, with its high gabled houses, its fruit trees, fountains, and promenades, its scrupulous neatness, and its comfortable and happy people, and you will have an idea of Sarepta: industry, the fine arts, morality, sociability, commerce, are all combined in that favoured spot.
The Moravian colony, shut in within a bend of the Volga, in the midst of the Kalmuck hordes, eloquently demonstrates what miracles decision and perseverance can effect. It is the first shoot planted by Europe in that remote region, amidst those pastoral tribes so jealous of their independence; and the changes wrought by the Moravian brethren on the rude soil they have fertilised, and on the still ruder character of the inhabitants, give striking evidence of the benefits of our civilisation.
Every thing breathes of peace and contentment in this little town, on which rests the blessing of God. It is the only place I know in Russia in which the eye is never saddened by the sight of miserable penury. No bitter thought mingles there with the interesting observations gleaned by curiosity. Every house is a workshop, every individual a workman. During the day every one is busy; but in the evening the thriving and cheerful population throng the walks and the square, and give a most pleasing air of animation to the town.
Like most Germans, the Moravian brethren are passionately fond of music. The piano, heard at evening in almost every house, reminds them of their fatherland, and consoles them for the vicinity of the Kalmucks.
We visited the establishments of the Moravian sisters, where, by a fortunate chance, we met a German lady who spoke French very well. The life of the sisters is tranquil, humble, and accordant with the purest principles of morality and religion. They are forty in number, and appear happy, as much so at least as it is possible to be in a perfectly monastic state of existence. Consummate order, commodious apartments, and a handsome garden, make the current of their lives flow with unruffled smoothness, as far as outward things are concerned. Music, too, is a great resource for them. We observed in the prayer-room three pianos, with which they accompany the hymns they sing in chorus. They execute very pretty work in pearls and tapestry, which they sell for the benefit of the community. There would be nothing very extraordinary in these details, if any other country were in question; we are afraid they will even be thought too commonplace; but if the reader will only reflect for a moment on the position of this oasis of civilisation on the far verge of Europe, in the midst of the Kalmucks and on the confines of the country of the Khirghis, he will think our enthusiasm very natural and excusable.
The only thing that rather offended our eyes was the would-be finery of the women's dress. Would any one imagine that in this remote little corner of the earth they should be ridiculous enough to ape French fashions and wear bonnets with flowers? How preferable are the simple demure costume of the Mennonite women and their little Alsacian caps, to the mingled elegance and shabbiness of the Moravian sisters. Their dress is quite out of character, and makes them look like street ballad-singers.
To give an idea of it, here follows an exact description of the costume of a fashionably-dressed young lady of Sarepta (our host's daughter.):—A flowered muslin gown, short and narrow; a black apron; a large Madras handkerchief on the neck; a patch-work ridicule carried in the hand; thick-soled shoes, bare arms, and a pink bonnet with flowers. To complete the portrait, we must add a very pretty face, and plump, well-rounded arms. The women here are much handsomer than in any other part of Russia; many of them are remarkable specimens of the North German style of beauty.
On the evening of our arrival we were advised to attend the funeral music performed as a last honour to one of the principal inhabitants of Sarepta. The body was laid out in a mortuary chapel, with the family and numerous friends around it, and was not to be removed to the cemetery until the fourth day; an excellent custom, which may prevent horrible accidents.
It would be difficult to imagine any thing more melancholy than the harmony produced by the voices and the brass instruments that alternately answered each other, and seemed the echoes of the saddest and most profound emotions of the heart. A great number of persons were present, and all the solemnity of the occasion did not hinder those worthy Germans from gathering round us with the liveliest curiosity, and putting a thousand questions to us about the purport of our travels.
The association of the Moravian brethren dates from the celebrated John Huss, who was burnt at Constance, in 1419. Their history is but a long series of persecutions. The issue of the Thirty Years' War, so disastrous for Frederick, the elector palatine, and king of Bohemia, was particularly fatal to them. At that period most of the Protestants of Bohemia fled their country, and spread themselves through Saxony, Brandenburg, Poland, and Hungary. The vengeance of the Emperor Frederick II. pursued them without ceasing, and great numbers of them perished in want and wretchedness. In 1722, Christian David, a carpenter, and some others of the proscribed, obtained permission from the Count of Zinzendorf, in Lusace, to settle on his lands. They reached their place of refuge in secret, with their wives and children, and David struck his axe into a tree, exclaiming: "Here shall the bird find a dwelling, and the swallow a nest." His hopes were not disappointed. The new establishment assumed the name of Herrenhut (The Lord's Keeping), and its members were soon known in Germany only by that appellation. Such was the beginning of the new evangelical society of the Brethren of the Unity of the Confession of Augsburg. Herrenhut, the central establishment, throve rapidly, and became known all over Europe for its industry and its manufactures; and by and by, when the proselytising spirit had possessed the brethren, they extended their relations over all parts of the world.
Shortly after the Empress Catherine II. had made known to Europe that Russia was open to foreigners, and that she would bestow lands the immigrants, a deputation from Herrenhut to St. Petersburg decided on the formation of a Moravian colony in the government of Astrakhan. Five of the brethren visited the banks of the Volga in 1769, and on the 3rd of September of the same year, the colony was settled at the confluence of the Sarpa with the Volga, and consisted at that time of thirty persons of both sexes. Its name was borrowed from the Bible, and an olive and a wheatsheaf were chosen for its arms.
It was only by dint of courage and perseverance that these first colonists succeeded in their enterprise, surrounded as they were on all sides by the savage hordes of the Kalmucks, having no knowledge of the language of the country, and situated at more than 120 versts from any Russian town. But after the first difficulties were surmounted, their prosperity was rapid. As we have already said, the Moravian brethren form a vast society, spread throughout all parts of the world for the propagation of the Gospel; but, moreover, for the better fulfilment of their mission they are all required by the rules of their order to know some trade, so as to be able to support themselves by the work of their own hands. Hence Sarepta soon became a seat of manufactures of all sorts, and an industrial school for the surrounding country, and Catherine's intentions were realised.
As for the brethren themselves, the establishment of an industrial town in a land so remote and so destitute of resources and markets, was for them but a secondary object. Their chief aim was the conversion of the Kalmucks, to accomplish which they thought rightly that it was indispensable to have a permanent settlement among those people. All their proselytising efforts, however, remained fruitless; the Kalmucks were deaf to their instruction. It was not till 1820 that they succeeded in converting a few families, and inducing them to receive baptism. But now the Russian clergy interposed, and insisted on the converts being baptised according to the Greek rite, and finally, all the Moravian missions were suppressed. Ever since then Sarepta has been a purely manufacturing town.
The colony of Sarepta endured great calamities in the beginning. In 1771, the period of the famous emigration of the Kalmucks, the brethren had a narrow escape of being carried into captivity, and were saved only by the mildness of the winter, which prevented their enemies from crossing the Volga and joining the great horde. The Cossack Pougatchef ravaged the whole country in 1773, and the colonists, 200 in number, including women, were obliged to retreat to Astrakhan. The defeat of the rebel shortly afterwards enabled them to return home. Their town had been destroyed, but they were not disheartened, and it soon rose again from its ruins. A whole street was burned down in Sarepta in 1812, and in the same year they lost their warehouses in Moscow, containing an immense stock of goods, in the great conflagration. But the most terrible disaster was that of 1823, when two-thirds of the colony and the largest establishments were reduced to ashes; the loss was estimated at upwards of 40,000l. The Emperor Alexander and the Moravian Association afforded the poor colonists generous aid, but they could never restore the old prosperity of Sarepta.
All these heavy blows falling successively on the unfortunate community, did not, however, prevent the development of its industry. Great activity prevailed in its very various manufactories down to the beginning of the present century, and their productions continued to be in request in all parts of Russia. Some of the brethren established in the great towns of the empire were the active and honest correspondents of the Volga colonists. The silks and cottons of Sarepta were so successful that the weavers of that town formed establishments at their own cost among the German colonies of the government of Saratof.[17] But all these elements of wealth were annihilated by the new customs' regulations; most of the manufactories were closed; as for the rest, with one or two exceptions, being obliged to confine themselves to the production of a small number of articles, they can only subsist by dint of great economy and skill. The difficulty, too, of procuring workmen makes labour extremely dear in Sarepta; and besides this the colonists instead of importing the raw materials direct from the foreigner, are obliged to purchase them in the markets of St. Petersburg and Moscow. The decrease in the waters of the Sarpa has also been disastrous to the trade of Sarepta. The brethren had set up a great number of saw and other mills on the banks, and these brought them large profits; but the want of water caused them all to be abandoned in 1800. In noticing this continual struggle of man against nature and events, we cannot but pay the tribute of our admiration to those intrepid colonists, who, on the furthest verge of Europe, in the arid steppes of the Volga, have never suffered themselves to be overcome by their mischances, but have always found fresh resources in their own energy and perseverance.
The manufacture of mustard is at present the most important branch of business in Sarepta, producing nearly 16,000 kilogrammes yearly, besides 4800 kilogrammes of oil. This trade is not unimportant to the neighbouring villages, since it uses upon an average every year 160,000 kilogrammes of mustard seed, for which the manufacturer pays the peasant at the rate of 1.60 rubles the poud or thirty-three pounds.
The other trades that are still carried on with some degree of success are the manufactures of silk and cotton tissues, stockings and caps, tobacco and tanned leather, but these are all upon a greatly reduced scale and at a greatly diminished rate of profit. There is also a very clever optician in Sarepta, and there are several confectioners who travel to Moscow. The colony possesses also warehouses of manufactured goods, and offers almost all the resources and conveniences of a good European town.
Agriculture can only be a secondary matter in the colony; of the 17,000 deciatines of land possessed by it 2000 are quite unfit for cultivation, 10,000 are salt, and only 4000 are really good. There is, however, a little village named Schönbrunn, not far from the town, in which there are some families engaged in agriculture and cattle rearing. Merino sheep have not done well with them hitherto. They had a large stock some years ago, but it dwindled away either from mismanagement, or from the severity of the climate, and at present does not exceed 1000 head.
The brethren possess also numerous gardens along the Sarpa, irrigated by water wheels, and producing all sorts of fruits and plants, but chiefly tobacco, and latterly indigo, which will no doubt become of great importance to the colony.
The little town of Sarepta has not changed much within the last eighty years: its buildings still present the same appearance as they did some years after the foundation of the colony; but the great industrial movements of former times have deserted it, and its streets are become lonely and silent. The fountain still flows on the same spot, and is still shaded by the same trees; but the blackened walls of the two finest manufactories, burnt down in the terrible fire of 1823, and which the colonists have never been able to rebuild, make a singularly painful impression on the beholder, and tell too plainly that in spite of their courage and industry, events have been too strong for the Moravians. All travellers who visit Sarepta, and have an opportunity of appreciating the worth of its inhabitants, will certainly desire from their hearts a return of prosperity to this interesting colony: unhappily it is not probable that these wishes will be very speedily realised.
The Moravian community has augmented but little since 1769; for in 1837 it comprised but 380 souls, viz., 160 men and 220 women; and even of these, only one half were natives of Sarepta, the remainder being immigrants from abroad. Many causes combine to keep down the population. In the first place, no colonist is allowed to marry, until he can prove the sufficiency of his means; both men and women, therefore, marry late in life, and large families are extremely rare. Again, no brother can marry, if his doing so would cause any detriment to another; and all those who, by their misconduct, in any degree disturb the order and tranquillity of the colony, are banished and put out of the association. A sort of passport is given them for the government of Saratof, and then they are at liberty either to enrol themselves as government colonists, or to enjoy their privileges as foreigners. Lastly, after the great fire of 1823, many of the brethren, discouraged by the loss of their all, left Sarepta, and went to reside elsewhere. All these reasons, sufficiently account for the stationary condition of the population. Of strangers to the association, there are in Sarepta, thirty families of work people from the German colonies of Saratof, forty Russians, and twenty Tatars; some fifty Kalmuck kibitkas (tents) supply labourers for the gardens and for other works.
There are now fifty-six stone and 136 wooden houses in Sarepta, and outside it, one stone and forty-nine wooden. Its public buildings, are a church, with an organ and a belfry, and three large workhouses for bachelors, widows, and girls. These serve at the same time as asylums for orphans, and for all persons who have no families. There are also schools for the young of both sexes, in which the course of instruction is rather extensive, and includes the German, Russian, and French languages, history, geography, and elementary mathematics.
At first, Sarepta was surrounded with ditches and ramparts, supplied with artillery and defended by a detachment of Cossacks; but these military displays have long disappeared, and the worthy Moravians are left alone to their own peaceful pursuits. In describing this interesting colony, we must not forget its numerous and delicious fountains. Every street, every house has its own, the water being conveyed by wooden pipes underground into a common reservoir, whence it is distributed to all parts. Nor will it be without a keen feeling of satisfaction that the weary traveller will stop at the Sarepta hotel, where he will find a good bed and a good table, excellent wine, and all the comforts he can desire.
The Moravian brethren of Sarepta justly enjoy much more extensive privileges than all the other colonists of Russia: they pay to the crown but a slight tax per deciatine of land; and they have the right of trading in all parts of the empire and to foreign parts, as first guild merchants without paying any dues. They have their own perfectly separate administration, and all litigated affairs among them are settled by themselves, without the interference of any Russian tribunal: if any disputes arise between them and their neighbours, they have recourse to the general committee of the German colonies of Saratof, or in matters of weight, to the ministry in St. Petersburg, through one of their brethren, who resides there as their agent. In cases of murder alone, they deliver over the criminal to the Russian authorities. Banishment is usually the sentence pronounced for other offences by the tribunal of the association, which consists of a mayor and two assistants, elected by the community, and who act also as administrators of the colony, and have under their orders an officer, who is responsible for all things pertaining to the town and country police. The public revenue is 20,000 rubles, produced by the rent of the fisheries and by special taxes; this money is spent in keeping up the public buildings, the schools, workhouses, &c.
The habits of these colonists, their amount of education, and their religious principles, make a marked distinction between them and all the other Germans in Russia. We have seen few sectarians whose religious views are characterised by so much sound sense. While discharging their duties with the most scrupulous exactness, they avail themselves of the good things granted them by Providence, live in a liberal and commodious manner, and surround themselves with all that can render life easy and agreeable. What struck us most of all, was to find invariably in the mere workman as well as in the wealthy manufacturer, a well-bred, well-informed man, of elegant manners and appearance, and engaging conversation. We spent but a few days in the colony, but our knowledge of the German language, enabled us quickly to acquire the friendship of the principal inhabitants; and when we left the town, our carriage was surrounded by a great number of those worthy people who came to bid us a last farewell, and to wish us a pleasant journey through the wild steppes of the Kalmucks.
FOOTNOTE:
[17] The German colonies of the government of Saratof consist of 102 villages, with a population of 81,271; in 1820 they produced 242,830 hectolitres of wheat, worth 555,263 paper rubles, and tobacco to the value of 260,485.