Two months after that date, on a cold November morning, when the Sea of Azof was already beginning to be covered near shore with a thin coat of ice, there arrived in Taganrok one of those large boats called lodkas, which ply on all the navigable rivers of the empire, and are used for the transport of goods. This one seemed to have been fitted up for the temporary accommodation of passengers. The practised eyes of the sailors in the port soon noticed the peculiar arrangement of the deck, the care with which the bales of merchandise were ranged along the gangways, and above all, the great carpet that covered the whole quarter-deck. These circumstances excited much curiosity in the port, especially as at that advanced season arrivals were very rare; but conjecture was exerted in vain, as to who might be the mysterious passengers, for the whole day passed without one of them appearing. It was ascertained, indeed, that a non-commissioned officer landed from the lodka, and waited on the police-master and the English consul, and that those functionaries repaired on board the lodka; but that was all, and the public remained for ever in ignorance whence the lodka came, whither it was bound, and who were the persons on board of it.
The same evening the English consul was waiting with some curiosity for the visit of a foreigner, who, as he had been informed by the non-commissioned officer of the lodka, would call on him at eight o'clock; but her name and her business remained a mystery for him. At the appointed time the door opened, and a person entered whose appearance at first sight did not seem to justify the curiosity which the consul had felt about her. Dressed in a long, loose, grey robe, and a white hood with lappets falling on the bosom, she had all the appearance of those Russian nuns who go about to rich houses and beg for their convents. Taking her for one of these persons, Mr. Y—— was about to give her a very expeditious answer, when to his surprise she accosted him in excellent English. The appearance and manners of the visitor soon convinced him she was a person of superior station. The conversation turned at first on England. The unknown told him that having long resided in that country, she had felt desirous of seeing its representative in Taganrok; she then went on to discuss English society, mentioning the most aristocratic names, and talking in such a manner as to show that she must have been long familiar with the London world of fashion. After this she proceeded to the main object of her visit, which was to procure from the consul a podoroshni, to continue her journey by land instead of by water as before.
All this while the consul was scrutinising his strange visitor with increasing astonishment. She appeared to be about fifty years of age; her features, which were still very well preserved, must have been once very handsome. She had a Bourbon countenance, large blue eyes, grave lineaments, and a somewhat haughty ease in her demeanour, that altogether produced a singularly imposing effect. The conversation gradually becoming more familiar, the lady confessed that having been converted by the Baroness de Krudener and the Princess Gallitzin, she had been exiled with those ladies to the Crimea, where she purposed to preach the faith.
This unexpected communication of course increased the surprise of Mr. Y——, and drew from him some observations on the nature of such a project. After lauding the zeal of the fair missionary, he hinted a doubt that she would find many proselytes among the Mahometans, and asked her had she no family or friends who had a more direct claim on her charity than strangers, who were too barbarous to appreciate her motives. This question produced an extraordinary effect on the lady. She grew pale and confused, and muttered indistinctly that all her earthly ties were broken, and that the wrath of Heaven had long rested on her head! A silence of some minutes followed that avowal. The consul remained with his eyes fixed on the strange being before him, and in spite of all his address and knowledge of the world, he was quite at a loss how to behave or how to renew the conversation. His visitor, however, relieved him by taking her leave, after repeating her request that he would supply her with a podoroshni on the following morning.
It may easily be imagined that Mr. Y—— did not wait until the next day to satisfy his curiosity respecting the ladies whose invincible spirit of proselytism had sent them from the banks of the Neva to the shores of the Black Sea, and soon after the departure of his visitor he was on his way to the port. He had no difficulty in finding the lodka; the deck was deserted, but a light shone through one of the skylights. Looking down he saw three phantom-like females standing at a table covered with papers, and reading out of large books. When their prayers were ended they began to chant hymns in a slow measure. The solemn religious harmony, suddenly breaking the deep silence, made so intense an impression on the consul, that twenty years afterwards he still spoke of it with enthusiasm.
Countess Guacher stood with her back towards him, but he had a full view of the faces of the two other ladies. Madame de Krudener was small, delicate, and fair haired; her inspired looks and the gentleness of her countenance bespoke her boundless beneficence of soul. The Princess Gallitzin, on the contrary, had an imposing countenance, the expression of which presented a strange mixture of shrewdness, asceticism, sternness, and raillery. For a long while the pilgrims continued chanting Sclavonic psalms, the mysterious impart of which accorded with the enthusiastic disposition of their souls. Before they had ended, the sound of footsteps on the deck woke Mr. Y—— from his trance of wonder. The new comer was the non-commissioned officer, and Mr. Y—— desired the man to announce him, although he hardly expected to be admitted at so late an hour. His visit was nevertheless accepted, and the ladies received him with as much ease as if they had been doing the honours of a drawing-room.
In spite of their religious enthusiasm, and the apostolic vocation which they attributed to themselves, it may easily be imagined that these three high-bred ladies, accustomed to all the refinements of luxury, should now and then have had their tempers a little ruffled by the hardships of their journey, and that their mutual harmony should have suffered somewhat in consequence. Their wish, therefore, to separate on their arrival at Taganrok was natural enough. Countess Guacher especially, having made less progress than her companions in the path of perfection, had often revolted against the austere habits imposed on her; but these ebullitions of carnal temper were always brief and transient; and on the day after her visit to the consul, when he returned to the port to announce that the podoroshni was ready, the boat and its passengers had disappeared, and no one could give any information about them.
II.
The apparition of these ladies in the Crimea threw the whole peninsula into commotion. Eager to make proselytes, they were seen toiling in their béguine costume, with the cross and the gospel in their hands, over mountains and valleys, exploring Tatar villages, and even carrying their enthusiasm to the strange length of preaching in the open air to the amazed and puzzled Mussulmans. But as the English consul had predicted, in spite of their mystic fervour, their persuasive voices, and the originality of their enterprise, our heroines effected few conversions. They only succeeded in making themselves thoroughly ridiculous not only in the eyes of the Tatars, but in those also of the Russian nobles of the vicinity, who instead of seconding their efforts, or at least giving them credit for their good intentions, regarded them only as feather-witted illuminatæ, capable at most of catechising little children. The police, too, always prompt to take alarm, and having besides received special instructions respecting these ladies, soon threw impediments in the way of all their efforts, so that two months had scarcely elapsed before they were obliged to give up their roving ways, their preachings, and all the fine dreams they had indulged during their long and painful journey. It was a sore mortification for them to renounce the hope of planting a new Thebaid in the mountains of the Crimea. Madame de Krudener could not endure the loss of her illusions; her health, already impaired by many years of an ascetic life, declined rapidly, and within a year from the time of her arrival in the peninsula, there remained no hope of saving her life. She died in 1823, in the arms of her daughter, the Baroness Berckheim, who had been for some years resident on the southern coast, and became possessed of many documents on the latter part of a life so rich in romantic events: but unfortunately these documents are not destined to see the light.
Princess Gallitzin, whose religious sentiments were perhaps less sincere, thought no more of making conversions after she had installed herself in her delightful villa on the coast. Throwing off for ever the coarse béguine robe, she adopted a no less eccentric costume which she retained until her death. It was an Amazonian petticoat, with a cloth vest of a male cut. A Polish cap trimmed with fur completed her attire, that accorded well with the original character of the princess. It is in this dress she is represented in several portraits still to be seen in her villa at Koreis.