“Owners often treat their serfs kindly, and make their lives happy, but a capricious or tyrannical master has the power of rendering every person on his estate miserable.
“The above description refers to the Russian landowners as a class. There are undoubtedly exceptions, and many very excellent, intelligent men may be found, who, living entirely on their property, devote themselves to its improvement, and to the amelioration of the condition of those who have been placed in dependence on them.
“The worst class in Russia are the Tchinovniks, or those employed in the civil service of the Government, of all grades, from the highest to the lowest. They are badly paid, and thus indemnify themselves by every description of peculation, and by endeavouring to wring bribes out of all with whom they come in contact. The Emperors have at times endeavoured to alter the system, but, although they have punished delinquents, when discovered, with the greatest severity, they have failed to put a stop to the evil.
“The mercantile class are considered generally respectable. No person can trade unless he is a member of one of three guilds. The privileges belonging to the first guild are purchased by an annual tax, calculated on the declared capital, but which cannot be less than 150; and those of the other guilds by sums in proportion to the smaller facilities for trading which they afford.
“The Russians are certainly not a warlike race, though their governors have endeavoured to make them so. The conscription presses most cruelly on the peasants, and it is with the most painful reluctance that its summons is obeyed. When they join, the officers may ill-treat them, pull their hair, and strike them with impunity. The officers have generally a fair supply of professional knowledge, and some are highly educated. The men have a larger amount of passive courage than of dashing bravery; yet they will usually follow where their officers lead them. The private has a possibility of rising to the rank of an officer after twelve years’ probation, and even sooner by some dashing act of bravery; and several even thus have become generals. There are numerous military colleges in which cadets are educated, but a commission may also be obtained by a youth of family by his serving two years in the ranks. No officer may appear on any occasion without his uniform, nor carry an umbrella. The cadets are exercised during the summer in camps, as, indeed, is the greater part of the army, to prepare them for actual warfare.”
Mr Allwick had got thus far in his description of the people of Russia, when, as the horses were galloping along at a great rate, a crash was heard, and over went the carriage on its side;—one of the long poles of the tarantasse had broken. The travellers got out in dismay, not knowing how long this accident might delay them. As they looked out they saw some cottages ahead. A peasant standing at the door of one of them had observed the occurrence, and now came running up with his axe in his hand to ascertain the amount of the damage. Two or three other men followed. “Oh, it is nothing,” said they; “we will soon put this all right.” They were as good as their word. While the travellers stood at the roadside watching what they would do, they disappeared into the forest, out of which they speedily issued with a young fir-tree, which in an incredibly short space of time they stripped of its bark and fitted to the carriage. A rouble amply satisfied them for their trouble. They were merry fellows, evidently, for they laughed and joked or sung all the time they were at work, so that Fred and Harry were quite sorry that they could not understand what they were saying. The tarantasse was soon moving on as before. In the evening they stopped at a place with a name too difficult to pronounce, to take tea. The inn was an unclean, straggling-looking mansion, with a long whitewashed corridor, and whitewashed rooms, very scantily furnished, opening out of it. The whole place was redolent of an odour which appears to be a mixture of vodka, onions, or rather garlic, and stale tobacco smoke. No house in Russia seems to be without it, of high or low degree, its intensity only being greater in those of the lower orders. Evergreen complained bitterly of it. His consumption of eau-de-Cologne was doubled, he said, and he declared that it alone would prevent him from ever willingly taking up his abode in Russia, irrespective of his dislike to the despotic system of government under which it was placed. The travellers were ushered by a waiter into a room with a straight-backed, leather-covered sofa, chairs with wooden seats, and an old card-table; while the walls were ornamented with some coloured prints of battles between the Circassians and Russians, in which a host of the mountaineers were flying before a handful of their enemies. The waiter would have astonished one of his brethren in England; for he wore jack-boots, into which were tucked his full Oriental breeches, a pink shirt, showing the tail outside, and a dirty, collarless, long coat, like a dressing-gown, fastened round his waist by a sash. “Tchai, tchai!” (tea, tea!), exclaimed Cousin Giles with as much dignity as if he was thorough master of the Russian language. “Si chasse, si chasse,” replied the jack-booted waiter, meaning thereby that he would bring it as suited his convenience. Mr Allwick, however, added a few persuasive words, and in a short time the hissing samovar made its appearance, with a teapot and cups. The tea, which would anywhere be considered excellent, the travellers had brought with them. The principle of the samovar is very simple. In the centre of a common-shaped urn there is a cylinder with a grating at the bottom of it. The urn is filled with water, and the cylinder with charcoal. A brass chimney fits on to the top of the cylinder. A light is then applied to the lower end, which soon ignites the charcoal from the bottom to the top, and boils the water in three or four minutes. A frame fixes on to the top of the cylinder, on which the teapot is placed to keep it warm. There is a damper or cap, which can be placed on the top of the cylinder when it is required to put out the fire. There is no more convenient machine for travellers, as breakfast can thus be prepared in a very few minutes. A sum amounting to little more than a shilling was paid for the accommodation thus afforded. For a less sum they might have slept all night, but then they would have had to wrap themselves up in their cloaks and pick out a soft plank on the floor. In an hour fresh horses were procured, and once more the tarantasse was rattling along the road. About twenty-four hours after leaving Moscow, the travellers reached the ancient city of Vladimir, with the Golden Gate. It was once upon a time the capital of the Empire, and is still a city of considerable size. It is picturesquely situated on a hill, on which stand about twenty churches, overlooking a wide extent of wooded country, with a magnificent river flowing through it. The Golden Gate, which still rises in dignified solitude, a proud monument of the past, is not an ungraceful building. It is no longer used as a gate.
The temptations held out by the hotel here did not induce our travellers to stop, but, ordering fresh horses, they pushed on towards Nishni. They were now entering a fertile tract of country; but, fertile as it is, the population is not more dense than that of the most barren districts of Scotland. Mile after mile of thick forest was passed through, varied occasionally, as they approached the river Okka, by large villages. These villages have a strong similarity to each other, the houses being built of logs, and the gable-ends being turned to the road, and being inhabited by people with a very great likeness to each other. At length the town of Nishni-Novogorood appeared before them. At most times of the year it contains but few inhabitants. It was now crowded by persons from all parts of Russia and the provinces to the south and east, who had assembled to dispose of the produce of their respective districts, or to make purchases for exportation. Here assemble merchants from all parts of Siberia, Tartars, Georgians, Persians, and Armenians, to meet Russians and Germans, and even English and French, from Saint Petersburg and Moscow, who come to buy their produce or exchange them for manufactures from the West. Nishni stands on a high promontory, whose base is washed on one side by the Volga, on the other by its tributary the Okka. The Kremlin, or Citadel, with its low, embattled walls, stands on the highest point, and overlooks a vast plain, through which, at the base of the hill, the Volga flows proudly past. On this plain, close to the banks of the river, was a whole city of booths of various styles of architecture—those for the tea merchants being in the shape of pagodas. Some of the booths are of considerable size, being, in fact, storehouses for a large amount of valuable merchandise. One of the most conspicuous buildings in this quarter is a mosque, whose tall, pointed spire, surmounted by a glittering crescent, towers above all others. This mosque is said to be the most northern Mohammedan temple, with the exception of the humble little structure at Moscow.
Our friends found the hotel in the upper part of the town far more comfortable than they expected. The rooms and beds were tolerably clean, and the eatables contained no larger amount of grease and garlic than might reasonably be expected. Having refreshed themselves with a quantity of fresh-water, which somewhat astonished the Russian attendants, and partaken of a substantial meal, they sallied forth to visit the fair. Mr Allwick, who had been there before, acted as their guide. The upper part of the town presented no unusual bustle, but as they descended to the plain they found themselves among dense crowds of human beings in every variety of costume. Long-coated, long-bearded, and high-booted Russians predominated. By listening attentively, our friends thought they could distinguish very many different languages and dialects; and all were speaking in an earnest, energetic way, showing that they had met for business, and not for pleasure. There was, in truth, no gaiety either in their manner or their costume; for their dresses also were of somewhat grave, sombre colours, though here and there gay sashes, or caps, or vests, or turbans were to be seen. They walked up and down the long lanes of booths, in which the traders sat in state ready to dispose of their merchandise. But the more interesting part of their employment was the visit they paid to the various storehouses. In some were packages upon packages of tea, done up in skins, in which mode it is brought all the way from China by caravans; in another were piles of hides, in another heaps of dressed leather, in another bales of hemp and wool, brought by the Volga and its tributaries from far-off regions. There were also less bulky manufactured articles—leather work and embroidery, slippers and belts, from Kazan, shawls and cloths from Persia, and saddles from Tartary; indeed, it would be difficult to name one-half of the articles exposed for sale. There were no means of amusement, such as are to be seen at an English or German fair. No jugglers, or actors, or roundabouts, or swings, though there were eating and drinking booths in abundance, where the buyers and sellers and carriers might refresh themselves after the toils of the day. The mighty Volga, even here a fine river, presented an interesting scene. It was covered with a great variety of boats, some of considerable size, which had brought to market the produce enumerated above, and were ready to carry off what was taken in exchange for it. There were steamers also, some going much above Nishni, and others navigating from thence its whole length to its mouth.
While the travellers had been moving about the fair, Cousin Giles, who had a great facility for remembering countenances, had observed a man in the costume of a mujick continually following them. His dress was dusty and travel-stained, but it was neither torn nor patched, nor had he the appearance of a poor man. His countenance was frank, open, and pleasant, though grave and somewhat careworn, so that it did not appear to Cousin Giles that he had any sinister motive for his conduct. Our friends were so much interested with all they saw, that quick-gathering darkness alone reminded them that it was time to return to their hotel. They had even then seen but a very small portion of the fair. Cousin Giles had before this lost sight of the mujick. They were on their way to the upper town, and were passing through a street, if so it might be called, with high walls on either side, when, coming from under a dark archway, the mujick presented himself before them.
He walked up at once to Cousin Giles, and took his hand, which he pressed to his lips, and then spoke several sentences in a low, earnest tone; but as the language was Russian, Cousin Giles could not understand a word. Mr Allwick, however, came up to interpret.