As superstition and ignorance generally go together, we need not be surprised to find that, as the Russian peasants possess the latter, so they have the former quality. Many of their ideas have changed but little since their forefathers’ heathen state in days of yore. They have the greatest faith in ghost-stories, sorcery, the evil eye, and the tricks of a mischievous kind of Puck called the Domovoi or house-spirit, who is a very useful being in a household, as everything that nobody wishes to take upon himself is laid on this naughty sprite. If the horses become thin, it is not because the groom sells the corn and hay; if the wine diminish or the sugar vanish, it is of course not Grushia or Marousha, but it is the ne’er-do-weel Domovoi; if the tray of china fall down and the best set is destroyed, of course it is all his doing: in fact, there is scarcely a wicked act that he does not do. One day some cottages caught fire in the village near our country-house. Being only of wood and very dry, the flames soon rose to a considerable height. Suddenly I saw several men run out of the isbas opposite. At the first moment I thought they were going to help in extinguishing the flames. I was soon undeceived, for as fast as their legs could carry them they rushed in exactly the contrary direction, but stopped when they had reached the middle of a field, when they began beckoning and making the most violent gestures with their hands.
“Are those men mad?” I asked of a gentleman who was standing near, “or what are they doing?”
“O no, they are sane enough,” replied he; “but they fancy that by acting so they will induce the wind to change, so that their own cottages may not be destroyed by the flames.”
Another time we were passing through an immense village, every house of which was burning. The peasants were standing in a group watching the cracking walls and rafters and the long crimson columns of fire, as if it were some raree-show got up expressly for their amusement: they made no effort to save anything; perhaps they had tried the wind-conjuring and did not find it answer; so they let things take their course, and philosophically resigned themselves to whatever might happen. The only words I heard them utter were “Vot tak posmaterite!” a common expression among them, which may be translated “So only look!” and then with open mouths they were again absorbed in watching the ascending flames.
The crown allows a certain sum to the people in the imperial villages, if their houses are burned, to help to rebuild them. I was staying for some time in the house of a provincial governor, and frequently saw the peasants come for money to enable them to reconstruct their isbas.
One morning we were surprised to see the whole yard filled with the peasantry; young and old were eagerly and loudly demanding to see the governor: he soon appeared and asked them what they wanted. They said that they had come to complain of the cruel treatment they had received at the hands of their proprietor, and a most sad picture they drew of their ills and grievances; they added that, driven to desperation, they had all left the estate in a body to ask protection. The governor spoke kindly to them, and promised them to make every inquiry, and that they should be righted, but begged them meanwhile to return home to their village. Some of the men stooped down, and, taking up a handful of earth, placed it on their heads, swearing that they took Heaven itself to witness that they had spoken the truth, and that, if they worked again for their owner, they hoped that trouble and evil would descend upon them like the dust upon their heads. The kind-hearted governor at length succeeded in pacifying them, and they quitted the yard. The inquest was begun but not ended when I left the province, so I had no opportunity of knowing in what manner it was decided.
A fatal instance of the superstition of the lower classes took place five or six years ago. A balloon ascent was announced to take place in St. Petersburg, and a French gentleman was to go up in the car. Everything went off admirably amid the gratified expressions of the citizens and assembled company; it was a fine day with a little wind, and the enormous ball sailed beautifully along until entirely lost to view. I believe it was the last time that such a sight was seen in St. Petersburg, and it certainly was the last time that this balloon was seen.
For a long time no one knew what had become of it and the unfortunate aëronaut; every one concluded that it had descended into the lake either of Onega or Ladoga, and nothing more was said about it. At last it was discovered that it had come down in the midst of a field near a village at some fifty versts from the capital, and that the peasants, who had never seen such a thing before, had murdered the unhappy Frenchman, under the conviction that he was a supernatural being, especially as they could not understand a word he said.
The superstitions of the Russians are not wholly confined to the lower classes: many a time when approaching a card-table have I been requested “not to come too near, lest I should cast an evil eye on the cards, and so turn the luck;” and innumerable stories have been gravely told me about children who have fallen ill or died from its effects. In very few houses will they allow the number thirteen at table, and they will either cause one of the party to sit apart, or call an upper servant to dine, so that there may be fourteen; and they deem it unlucky to hand the salt to any one unless both parties smile at the time. They have lucky and unlucky days; if anything were to be begun on a Saturday it would be attended with misfortune. No true Russian would ever think of commencing a journey on a Monday, and on entering the court-yard of a house it is a bad omen if the coachman turn the horses’ heads round.
Many also put the greatest faith in love-philtres and charms, talismans and crosses; the belief in witches and the existence of sorcery is universal. If a hare[9] run across the path, or if a person meet a priest, it is an unfortunate omen that can only be averted by thrice spitting over the right shoulder; indeed, in the latter case it is thought better to return home at once, if the person be going on very important business, unless he make a present to the priest and induce him to retrace his steps. “Alexis Ivanowitch,” said a gentleman to me one day, “was going to see the emperor this morning, but just as he was turning the corner he came upon three popes abreast. As the affair on which he was to see his majesty was a very important one, he gave them each five silver roubles to turn back, so that the ill luck might be averted.”