CHAPTER XVIII.
JOURNEY FROM NOVO TCHERKASK ALONG THE DON—ANOTHER KNAVISH POSTMASTER—MUSCOVITE MERCHANTS—COSSACK STANITZAS.
Beyond Novo Tcherkask the road to Astrakhan runs northward along the right bank of the Don; the country still continuing the same naked and monotonous appearance; it is only in the neighbourhood of the river that its desolation is here and there relieved by a few clumps of trees in the ravines.
It is certainly not without reason that the Russians boast of the rapid travelling in their country; its posts would be unrivalled in Europe were it not for the vexations practised by the employés at the stations. On the whole we had hitherto had no great reason to complain; the official papers with which we were furnished smoothed many difficulties; but at the first station beyond Novo Tcherkask we endured the common fate of all who travel without titular grade or decoration, and were mercilessly fleeced. We arrived towards evening followed by another carriage of which we were but a few minutes in advance. A caleche without horses seemed a bad omen to us as we entered the court-yard; and the first answer given to our Cossack was, that we could not have horses until the next morning. The prospect of passing the night in a miserable hovel was disagreeable enough; but what remedy had we with a postmaster, who opening all his stables, showed that he had no horses? After waiting a full half hour to no purpose our interpreter explored the vicinity of the station, and on his return, some rubles bestowed on the head of the establishment procured us all the horses we wanted. We put to and started immediately, leaving our companions behind us; but they overtook us an hour afterwards, having done like ourselves; and so it appeared at last, that there were horses enough for us all.
The travellers who followed us were young Muscovite merchants returning from some fair in the Caucasus. They amused themselves all night with letting off rockets and all kinds of fireworks, the sudden flash of which, lighting up the deep darkness of the steppes, produced a most striking effect.
We passed on the following day through several stanitzas. These Cossack hamlets have a far more pleasing appearance than the Russian villages. The houses of which they consist are small, almost all of them built of painted wood, with green window-shutters. They have only a ground-floor, surrounded by a miniature gallery, and look as if they were merely intended for pretty toys. The interiors are extremely neat, and show an appreciation of domestic comfort of which the Russians betray no trace. You find in them table-linen, delf plates, forks, and all the most necessary utensils. The Cossacks have usually two dwellings adjoining each other. One of these, that which we have been speaking of, is occupied in summer, and almost always contains one handsome apartment, adorned with stained paper, images, flowers, and groups of arms; it is the room used on grand occasions, and for the accommodation of strangers. The other dwelling is built of earth, and resembles the kates of the Muscovite peasants; it contains but one room, in which the whole family huddle themselves together in winter for the more warmth.
In general, only women and children are to be seen in the stanitzas. The whole male population is under arms, with the exception of some veterans who have purchased, by forty years' service, the right of returning home to die. All the burden of labour falls on the women; it is they who must repair the houses, whitewash them, dress the furs, take care of the children, and tend the cattle. It is really inconceivable how they can accomplish so many laborious tasks.
At Piatisbanskaia, a charming stanitza, shaded by handsome trees, and rising in an amphitheatre on the banks of the Don, we turned off from the post-road, and after crossing the river, entered on a sea of sand, through which we worked our way with immense difficulty. The peasants' horses are less used than those of the post to such toilsome marches, and it was really piteous to see their panting distress. The reflected glare of the sun, and the absence of any breath of wind, made this day's journey one of the most oppressive we encountered. It took us four hours to get over nine versts (less than six English miles). Though I wore a thick veil and blue spectacles, my eyelids were so swollen I could scarcely open them. Towards noon we at last reached a poor lonely village, where we rested until nightfall.
The country from Piatisbanskaia is dreary, and void of vegetation. The stanitzas are few and far between, the land lies waste, and the sand-hills and hot winds betoken the approach to the deserts of the Caspian. Nothing is more saddening to the imagination, than the lifeless aspect and uniform hues of these endless plains. One is surprised to meet in them, from time to time, some miserable Cossack villages, and cannot tell how the inhabitants can exist amidst such desolation. This sad sterility is the work of men, rather than of nature. The present system of government of the Don Cossacks is an insuperable bar to agricultural improvement; and so long as it exists, the land must remain uncultivated.