The Kalmucks, as the reader will perceive, are excellent horsemen, and are accustomed from their childhood to subdue the wildest horses. The exercise we had witnessed is one of their greatest amusements: it is even practised by the women, and we have frequently seen them vying with each other in feats of equestrian daring.
The lateness of the hour recalled us to the palace where a splendid dinner was prepared for us. Two large tables were laid in two adjoining rooms, and at the head of each sat one of the princes. We took our places at that of the elder brother, who did the honours in the most finished style.
The cookery, which was half Russian, half French, left us nothing to desire as regarded the choice or the savour of the dishes. Every thing was served up in silver, and the wines of France and Spain, champagne especially, were supplied in princely profusion. Many toasts were given, foremost among which were those in honour of the Emperor of Russia and the King of the French.
I remarked with much surprise, that during the whole dinner, the princess seemed very ill at ease in presence of her brother-in-law; she did not sit down until he had desired her to do so, and her whole demeanour manifested her profound respect for the head of her family. Her husband, the prince's younger brother, had been absent upwards of two months. The repast was very lengthened and great animation prevailed; whilst for our parts, we could hardly reconcile to our minds the idea that the giver of so sumptuous and so well-appointed an entertainment was a Kalmuck. The prince put many questions to us about France, and talked with enthusiasm of his residence in our country, and the agreeable acquaintances he had made there. Though he did not much make our current politics his study, he was not ignorant of our last revolution, and he expressed great admiration for Louis Philippe.
After dinner we went in his carriage to visit the mysterious pagoda which had so much excited our curiosity.
The moment we set foot on the threshold of the temple, our ears were assailed with a charivari, compared with which a score or two of great bells set in motion promiscuously, would have been harmony itself. It almost deprived us of the power of perceiving what was going on around us. The noise was so piercing, discordant, and savage that we were completely stupified, and there was no possibility of exchanging a word.
The perpetrators of this terrible uproar, in other words the musicians, were arranged in two parallel lines facing each other; at their head, in the direction of the altar, the high-priest knelt quite motionless on a rich Persian carpet, and behind them towards the entrance stood the ghepki, or master of the ceremonies, dressed in a scarlet robe and a deep yellow hood, and having in his hand a long staff, the emblem, no doubt, of his dignity. The other priests, all kneeling as well as the musicians, and looking like grotesque Chinese in their features and attitudes, wore dresses of glaring colours, loaded with gold and silver brocade, consisting of wide tunics, with open sleeves, and a sort of mitre with several broad points. Their head-dress somewhat resembled that of the ancient Peruvians, except that instead of feathers they had plates covered with religious paintings, besides which there rose from the centre a long straight tuft of black silk, tied up so as to form a series of little balls, diminishing from the base to the summit. Below, this tuft spread out into several tresses which fell down on the shoulders. But what surprised us most of all were the musical instruments. Besides enormous timbrels and the Chinese tamtam, there were large sea-shells used as horns, and two huge tubes, three or four yards long, and each supported on two props. My husband ineffectually endeavoured to sound these trumpets; none but the stentorian lungs of the vigorous Mandschis could give them breath. If there is neither tune, nor harmony, nor method in the religious music of the Kalmucks, by way of amends for this every one makes as much noise as he can in his own way and according to the strength of his lungs. The concert began by a jingling of little bells, then the timbrels and tamtams struck up, and lastly, after the shrill squeakings of the shells, the two great trumpets began to bellow, and made all the windows of the temple shake. It would be impossible for me to depict all the oddity of this ceremony. Now indeed we felt that we were thousands of leagues away from Europe, in the heart of Asia, in a pagoda of the Grand Dalai Lama of Thibet.
The temple, lighted by a row of large windows, is adorned with slender columns of stuccoed brickwork, the lightness of which reminds one of the graceful Moorish architecture. A gallery runs all round the dome, which is also remarkable for the extreme delicacy of its workmanship. Tapestries, representing a multitude of good and evil genii, monstrous idols and fabulous animals, cover all parts of the pagoda, and give it an aspect much more grotesque than religious. The veneration of the worshippers of Lama for their images is so great, that we could not approach these mis-shapen gods without covering our mouths with a handkerchief, lest we should profane them with an unhallowed breath.
The priests showed how much they disliked our minute examination of every thing, by the uneasiness with which they continually watched all our movements. Their fear as we afterwards learned, was lest we should take a fancy to purloin some of those mystic images we scrutinised so narrowly; certainly they had good reason to be alarmed, for the will was not wanting on our part. But we were obliged to content ourselves with gazing at them with looks of the most profound respect, consoling ourselves with the hope of having our revenge on a more favourable occasion.
When we returned to the palace, we found the old prince in a little room, of which he is particularly fond, and where he has collected a great quantity of arms and curiosities. Among other things, we admired some Circassian chaskas (sabres), richly adorned with black enamelled silver; Damascus swords, no less valuable for the temper of the blades, than for the rich incrustations of the hilts and scabbards; Florentine pistols of the fifteenth century; a jaspar cup of antique form, purchased for 4000 rubles of a Persian nobleman; Circassian coats of mail, like those of our knights of old, and a thousand other rarities, the artistic worth of which testify the good taste of a prince, whom many persons might consider a barbarian. He also keeps in this cabinet, as a thing of great price, the book in which are inscribed the names of those travellers who visit him. Among the names, most of them aristocratic, we observed those of Baron Humboldt, some English lords, and sundry Russian and German savans.