My headquarters were in Ladoga, the county seat of the district of the same name, in the Province of St. Petersburg. The town is situated on the Lake of Ladoga, at the mouth of the river Wolchow, which is large, but very dangerous for navigation on account of its rapids. This stream forms a link in the water-system connecting the Caspian Sea with St. Petersburg and the Baltic.
The situation of Ladoga, its streets and buildings, have little of picturesqueness, except the old church built on a slight elevation just where the river enters the lake. On the high tower of this church, almost at its summit, and on the side facing the lake, there is a niche, protected from rain and wind by a pane of glass. Within this niche is placed a picture of the Holy Mother, lighted by several lamps burning day and night. These are kept there by the donations of the fishermen and sailors, who hold the holy picture in great veneration. They look for it from afar, not only with the eagerness of a Cunarder’s captain watching through his glass for Sandy Hook or the Fastnet lights, but also as worshipers, raising their eyes and hearts to the Holy Mother with her Infant, imploring help and protection in their lives of hardship and danger; for navigation on the lake is very dangerous from undercurrents, and I have often heard marine officers say that they would rather cross the ocean than make a trip on this lake.
The town of Ladoga contains only a few thousand inhabitants, but, since it is a county seat, all the government officers, military and civil, are obliged to live there with their families. If you add the staffs of the various regiments which are stationed there in turn, and several wealthy landowners of the nobility, you can imagine that life in Ladoga is gay.
In no other country than Russia are there so many private dancing parties, suppers—or rather midnight dinners—and all sorts of amusements, any one of which is, for the most part, a pretext for eating, drinking and gambling. Even among ladies, every game of cards is played for money, in a country where the paternal government says: “You cannot read; I will read for you. You cannot write; I will write for you. You cannot think; I will think for you.” Questions of public interest there are none. If there is a vacancy in an office, every one knows the Czar will make the appointment. If there is a famine, every one says the Czar will send bread; thousands will die meanwhile, but this is no matter. If there is a war, every one proclaims, “Our little father, the Czar, will beat them; our mother, Russia, is invincible; let him [the enemy] come, we will bury him under our caps.” One is only permitted to think how to win more at cards, how to eat more and not make himself ill, how to drink more and not be made drunk, although this last condition is not considered at all degrading. On the contrary, it awakens in every one charitable feelings, quite naturally, for every one expects to be drunk himself, if not to-day, then, surely, to-morrow. It is really edifying to see how a mantle of charity is thrown over one who is drunk, and how tenderly he is carried home to bed—more tenderly, indeed, than one who may have had the misfortune to slip and break his leg. But the young men do not think merely of cards, eating and drinking, although they do not lose much time before entering upon these delights, and almost all show, very early, a genius for them, probably by way of inheritance. The adherents and the advocates of the theory of inherited inebriety would find in Russia their task greatly simplified. In case of a hiatus in the genealogical record, or in case of the utter impossibility of tracing one, they would not be obliged to make a salto mortale to Noah. Stretching out their fingers triumphantly, they could at once point out son, father and grandfather drunk in company.
There is, however, a time when a young man, even in Russia, thinks more of dancing and flirtation than of anything else, and when he under no circumstances would omit a dancing party or a ball, to say nothing of a wedding-ball. A wedding and a wedding-ball were on the program for the next day. I was young, recently graduated, held quite an enviable office under government, and had been chosen by the bride to hold the crown—not of diamonds, but of tinsel—over her head at the wedding ceremony during her triple promenade round the pulpit, hand in hand with her fiancé, which, according to the Greek rite, is a symbol of the Gordian knot.
But something still better my stars had destined for me. It was that the dear girl, just lost to all others except her husband, had selected me from a score of aspirants to lead the mazurka with her at the end of the ball. No sympathetic soul will wonder that, under these circumstances, I thought myself of no less importance for the events of the coming day than Bismarck for the Vaterland, and that while hurrying on all the necessary preparations for my personal appearance, I was plotting to prolong the mazurka at least one hour beyond the usual time.
Perhaps some one will question how it was that the honor of dancing the principal dance with the bride was bestowed on me, and not reserved for the bridegroom. Well, there were two reasons of the best kind. The first—a secret I will not tell; but the other, known to all Ladoga, was as follows: The groom’s left leg was shorter than the right. This misfortune naturally prevented him from dancing that fiery dance. Besides this, he belonged to that body of dignitaries entrusted by the Father of all Russia with the power of deciding the fate of poor delinquents, no matter in what category. Russia has her points of etiquette. Was it possible for such a dignitary to hop for hours through a mazurka? Certainly not. Even if both his legs had been of the same length, he could not have done it, for his shoulders were already loaded with a terrible weight of responsibility. To please his own humane heart, and to please all the living steps above him, up to the highest, who—no matter what Roman numeral is appended to his name—is considered to be endowed with the most humane heart of all, our dignitary had often to decide a question, frequently put to Russian rulers: which penalty would be the most humane, several thousand strokes of the knout, under which the sufferer might possibly die; or twenty years in the mines, where he would probably die?
Now, since this subject is at present so eloquently presented before the world in a work—for which, oh, so many thousands of hearts are praying that it may bring the same blessed results as “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”—I will only say that my bridegroom, being in a constant dilemma himself on that point, carried his neck bent forward in addition to his mismatched legs.
The evening before the wedding and the ball my preparations were all accomplished to my satisfaction. My new uniform, new epaulets, new boots, fitting so tightly that I could scarcely walk in them, but made to my special order by the most reliable shoemaker in Ladoga, new white gloves—in one word, everything new—lay spread about in my room on tables and chairs. Imagine, then, my dismay, when, at five o’clock in the evening, I received a dispatch ordering me to go at once on a very important service to a place at a distance of ninety-six versts (about sixty miles) from Ladoga.
In spite of my own excited anticipation of to-morrow’s enjoyment, I must say that I was more tormented by the thought of the disappointment of the poor girl. What would she think? What would she feel? Would she not even consider my absence as a bad omen for all her future life? To be absent! No, even for the Czar’s sake I was incapable of such treachery. But what could I do? To report myself sick was impossible, for in that case I could not appear at the ball. Delay was out of the question. I was obliged to go. Fortunately I could calculate upon performing my duties there before noon of the next day, and it only remained to be sure if I could make the journey with the speed of the wind. But I would not allow any obstacles to give me uneasiness. I knew I could make the 192 versts easily in nineteen hours, and having twenty-seven hours before me, I calculated upon having plenty of time, both for the business and the journey.