The province of Archangel is in the far north or forest region of Russia. It is a land of forest and morass, plentifully supplied with water in the form of rivers, lakes and marshes, along the banks of which are scant patches of cultivated land, which is invariably the location of a village. Throughout the whole of this province the climate is very severe. For more than half of the year the ground is covered by deep snow and the rivers are completely frozen. The arable land all told forms little more than two per cent of the vast area. The population is scarce and averages little more at the most than two to the square mile, according to the latest figures, about 1905.
During the late fall and early winter, shortly after Company “A” had been relieved at Ust Padenga, we were stationed in the village of Shegovari. Here we had considerable leisure at our disposal and consequently the writer began devoting more time to his linguistic studies. Difficult as the language seems to be upon one’s first introduction to it, it was not long before I was able to understand much of what was said to me, and to express myself in a vague roundabout way. In the latter operation I was much assisted by a peculiar faculty of divination which the Russian peasant possesses to a remarkably high degree. If a foreigner succeeds in expressing about one-fourth of an idea, the Russian peasant can generally fill up the remaining three-fourths from his own intuition. This may perhaps be readily understood when one considers that a great majority of the upper classes speak French or German fluently and a great number English as well. Then, too, the many and varied races that have united and intermingled to form the Russian race may offer an equally satisfactory explanation.
Shegovari may be taken as a fair example of the villages throughout the northern half of Russia, and a brief description of its inhabitants will convey a correct notion of the northern peasantry in general. The village itself is located about forty versts above Shenkursk on the banks of the Vaga river, which meanders and winds about the village so that the river is really on both sides. On account of this location there is more arable land surrounding the village than is found in the average community and dozens of villages are clustered about this particular location, the villages devoting most of their time to agricultural pursuits.
I believe it may safely be said that nearly the whole of the female population and about one-half the male inhabitants are habitually engaged in cultivating the communal land, which comprises perhaps five hundred acres of light, sandy soil. As is typical throughout the province this land is divided into three large fields, each of which is again subdivided into strips. The first field is reserved for one of the most important grains, i.e., rye, which in the form of black bread, is the principal food of the population. In the second are raised oats for the horses and here and there some buckwheat which is also used for food. The third field lies fallow and is used in the summer for pasturing the cattle.
This method of dividing the land is so devised in order to suit the triennial rotation of crops, a very simple system, but quite practical nevertheless. The field which is used this year for raising winter grain, will be used next summer for raising summer grain and in the following year will lie fallow. Every family possesses in each of the two fields under cultivation one or more of the subdivided strips, which he is accountable for and which he must cultivate and attend to.
The arable lands are of course carefully manured because the soil at its best is none too good and would soon exhaust it. In addition to manuring the soil the peasant has another method of enriching the soil. Though knowing nothing of modern agronomical chemistry, he, as well as his forefathers, have learned that if wood be burnt on a field and the ashes be mixed with the soil, a good harvest may be expected. This simple method accounts for the many patches of burned forest area, which we at first believed to be the result of forest fires. When spring comes round and the leaves begin to appear, a band of peasants, armed with their short hand axes, with which they are most dextrous, proceed to some spot previously decided upon and fell all trees, great and small within the area. If it is decided to use the soil in that immediate vicinity, the fallen trees are allowed to remain until fall, when the logs for building or firewood are dragged away as soon as the first snow falls. The rest of the piles, branches, etc., are allowed to remain until the following spring, at which time fires may be seen spreading in all directions. If the fire does its work properly, the whole of the space is covered with a layer of ashes, and when they have been mixed with the soil the seed is sown, and the harvest, nearly always good, sometimes borders on the miraculous. Barley or rye may be expected to produce about six fold in ordinary years and they may produce as much as thirty fold under exceptional circumstances!
In most countries this method of treating the soil would be an absurdly expensive one, for wood is entirely too valuable a commodity to be used for such a purpose, but in this northern region the forests are so boundless and the inhabitants so few that the latter do not make any great inroad upon the former.
The agricultural year in this region begins in April, with the melting snows. Nature which has been lying dormant for some six months, now awakes and endeavors to make up for lost time. No sooner does the snow disappear than the grass immediately sprouts forth and the shrubs and trees begin to bud. The rapidity of this transition from winter to spring certainly astonished the majority of us, accustomed as we were to more temperate climes.
On the Russian St. George’s Day, April 23rd, according to the old Russian calendar, or two weeks later according to our calendar, the cattle are brought forth from their winter hibernation and sprinkled with holy water by the priest. They are never very fat at any time of the year but at this particular period of the year their appearance is almost pitiful. During the winter they are kept cooped up in a shed, usually one adjoining the house or under the porch of same with very little, if any, light or ventilation, and fed almostly exclusively on straw. It is quite remarkable that there is one iota of life left in them for when they are thus turned out in the spring they look like mere ghosts of their former selves. With the horses it is a different matter for it is during the winter months in this region that the peasants do most of their traveling and the horse is constantly exposed to the opposite extreme of exposure and the bleak wind and cold, but is well fed.
Meanwhile the peasants are impatient to begin the field labor—it is an old Russian proverb known to all which says: “Sow in mud and you will be a prince,” and true to this wisdom they always act accordingly. As soon as it is possible to plough they begin to prepare the land for the summer grain and this labor occupies them probably till the end of May. Then comes the work of carting out manure, etc., and preparing the fallow field for the winter grain which will last until about the latter part of June when the early hay making generally begins. After the hay making comes the harvest which is by far the busiest time of the year. From the middle of July—especially from St. Elijah’s day about the middle of July, when the Saint according to the Russian superstition, may be heard rumbling along the heavens in his chariot of fire—until the end of August or early September the peasant may work day and night and yet find that he has barely time to get all his work done. During the summer months the sun in this region scarcely ever sets below the horizon and the peasant may often be found in the fields as late as twelve o’clock at night trying to complete the day’s work. In a little more than a month from this time he has to reap and stack his grain, oats, rye and whatever else he may have sown, and to sow his winter grain for the next, year. To add to the difficulty both grains often ripen about the same time and then it requires almost superhuman efforts on his part to complete his task before the first snow flies.