the circassian chief, by w.h.g. kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ the circassian chief, by w.h.g. kingston. volume , chapter i. between the ancient and modern capitals of russia, a fine broad road now affords an easy communication, although, but a few years ago, the traveller who would journey from one city to the other, was compelled to proceed at a slow pace, along a wild track, over rough stony ground, through swamps, under dark forests, and across bleak and unsheltered plains. the sun had already begun his downward course towards the more happy, and free lands of the far west, shedding forth his summer rays on the heads of two horsemen, who pursued their way in a southerly direction, along the yet unimproved part of the road, to which we have alluded. their pace, as the nature of the ground over which they travelled required, was slow--their attention being chiefly occupied in guiding their steeds between the many deep ruts and cavities, which lay in their path. the tone of their voices, their noble bearing, and general appearance, bespoke them at a glance, to belong to a station far above the common rank of life. they were dressed alike, in a half military uniform; their arms consisting solely of pistols, and heavy riding whips the latter even no despicable weapon when wielded by a strong arm. the travellers might have been taken for brothers, but that the dark flashing eye, black hair, clear olive-complexion, and regular grecian features of the one, offered too great a contrast to the laughing blue eye, light complexion and hair of the other, whose features, though inferior to those of his companion, were not deficient in manly beauty. there appeared to be scarcely any difference in their ages, both having emerged from boyhood, into that joyous time of life, when the man has completely shaken off what he then considers the irksome trammels of his childish days; happily, unconscious how soon in their stead, advancing years may too probably bring around him the many cares, and disappointments that flesh is doomed to bear, from manhood to the grave. the last mentioned of the two wayfarers, was in reality, however, the elder; although the light laugh he occasionally indulged in, and his debonair manner, gave him a younger look, than his more serious companion. they were followed at a short distance by a most primitive looking, low, square vehicle, containing their baggage; drawn by a shaggy little pony, and driven by a man almost as rough looking and unpolished as the animal itself. a low crowned, broad-brimmed hat of felt, covered a head of sandy hair, while a huge long beard of the same hue hung down upon his breast: the twinkle of his light grey eye, and a smile on his lips, giving a good humoured expression to his flat, and otherwise unmeaning features. his dress consisted of a long coat of coarse cloth, buckled round the waist by a leathern belt, and boots of the latter material, untanned, reaching just above his ankles. he urged on his little animal, as fast as it could travel, over the rugged road, whistling, as he lashed his whip, and whirled it round his head--his thoughts evidently not extending beyond his immediate occupation. the scenery through which the road led, was probably as dreary and uninteresting as any to be found in russia; a country, which can boast of but few natural beauties, throughout its widely extended territory. it ranged over a landscape, as far as the eye could reach, consisting of a dry uncultivated plain, with here and there, a few clumps of stunted trees struggling into existence upon the arid and ungrateful soil--fit emblems of the miserable, and enslaved peasantry of the country. the travellers had continued on their course through scenery equally unpicturesque for some distance, when gradually it began to improve, exhibiting a greater number of trees, and a brighter verdure. a proposal was then made by one of them, to which the other readily assented; this was to urge forward the driver of their baggage-cart, with his charge to tver, a town they purposed resting at for the night, while they followed at their leisure, through the forest they were approaching. the servant was summoned by the name of karl, and ordered to proceed with as much speed as his weary beast was capable of, in order to secure a lodging and to prepare supper, the materials for which he carried, together with their bedding for the night--a necessary precaution, the inns at the small towns in russia, affording very miserable accommodation. karl signified his comprehension of the order and willingness to obey it, by a few guttural sounds, and several low bends of the neck; when flourishing his long whip, he bestowed a few additional lashes on the flanks of the pony, who reluctantly started into a trot, dragging the rude little vehicle over ruts and stones after a most uncomfortable fashion. the cavaliers then followed quietly on, at the slow pace which the heat of a warm spring day made most agreeable, each occupied with his own thoughts; those of the younger of the two appearing to be rather of a sombre hue, as occasionally a shade of melancholy would pass across his expressive features; while, at other times, his bright eye would kindle with animation, and his lip would curl, as if some strong feelings were working within his bosom. his friend, however, endeavoured to amuse himself, and to enliven the journey with snatches of gay french songs, which he carolled forth in a rich, clear, and cheerful voice; and he now and then broke into a merry laugh. at length, weary apparently of his own thoughts, he exclaimed-- "thank heaven, ivan, my friend, that we are for ever free from dull and laborious studies, and those odious college drills. bah! i have so worn out my eyes and the small portion of brains i was ever endowed with, by reading, i will not look into a book for a year to come. we shall have no more of those sham fights, but henceforth may expect every day to be called upon to engage in the honour and glory of real warfare. what say you, ivan, does not your pulse beat with quicker throbs in anticipation of the glorious scenes of battle and conquest, which we may soon find ourselves engaged in? what say you, shall we flesh our maiden swords in the carcases of the turbaned infidels of turkey? they are said to be no despicable enemies to contend with; or if perchance our regiment should be out of favour at head-quarters, we may be sent to try our mettle against the mountain barbarians of the caucasus. i hear that there is enough of hard fighting with them; more perhaps than is at all times agreeable. it is said, indeed, that the emperor considers a campaign in the caucasus an excellent field for the display of the military talents of those, whose ideas of that phantom called `liberty' do not exactly coincide with his own. if such be the case, i shall not be much surprised if we some day receive an intimation that our valuable services are required to strengthen his armies in that distant and savage part of the globe. what say you, ivan, to this notion? do you not eagerly long to be wielding your sword against the savage hordes of those unchristianised barbarians of circassia?" the brow of ivan had contracted during these observations, which were uttered in a light, careless tone, and he had several times attempted to interrupt his friend; now, that the latter had concluded, he indignantly exclaimed: "i thought you knew me better, thaddeus, than to make a proposition of that nature to me. never will i unsheathe my sword to aid the cause of tyranny and injustice--such vile work i leave to slaves and hirelings. should russia herself be assailed, most willingly would i shed my blood for her defence, as in such a glorious struggle as that when she so gallantly beat back the aspiring conqueror of europe from her territories; but never will i lend my arm to assist in subjugating a free and independent people, over whom she has not even the shadow of a right to claim command. rather would i break my weapon into fragments, and forswear all hope of advancement in the world." a smile was rising on the lips of thaddeus at this sudden declaration of principles, so unusual in russia; but it was quickly checked on his perceiving the stern expression of his friend's countenance. "can you yourself, thaddeus, not feel for the oppressed?" ivan went on to say; "you, whose native land has so grievously suffered from the power of russia; you, who have such deep cause to rue the tyranny of her iron sway! then, as you love me, never again give utterance to the subject you have so thoughtlessly touched upon, for it is one on which i cannot trust my feelings." "i spoke but in jest," answered the other, "and most sincerely do i applaud your sentiments; but alas! i fear the principles you profess, when put in practice, will answer but badly in this country, and are such as it is more prudent to suppress. for my own part, i confess that, though i have a high respect for the liberty of all men-- especially for my own, i have such an innate love of fighting, that, provided an opportunity offer of exercising my propensity, i care little in what cause i draw my sword." "for shame, thaddeus!" cried ivan, indignantly. "i blush to hear one, whom i call my friend, and who i trusted was formed for nobler purposes, confess himself ready to become the willing tool of a despot; for to this does your declaration amount." thaddeus laughed, and gave a shrug of his shoulders, as he replied-- "your emancipation from college, my dear ivan, has, in truth, wonderfully expanded the liberality of your sentiments; and it is indeed fortunate that the idea had not there occurred to you of giving lectures on the rights and independence of man; they would have wonderfully edified your hearers among the cadets, and made most admirable subjects and soldiers of them for the emperor; but your exertions in the cause of liberty would not have gained you much credit in higher quarters." "your foolish bantering," answered the excited ivan, "is but a poor apology for your want of liberal principles. nor am i the madman you wish to make me appear. you well know how much i detested the thraldom in which we were kept at college, and that i pursued my studies with redoubled efforts and perseverance, in order to emancipate myself as soon as possible from that irksome and hated state. to you, as a tried and only friend, i have now opened my mind, trusting to have had a hearer who would cordially agree in my sentiments; but it appears that i have been grievously mistaken, and i have learned a bitter lesson--to trust in no living soul!" the tones of the speaker's voice shewed that his anger had risen to such a degree, that a reply in the former bantering strain would probably have caused a breach in the friendship of the two young men. thaddeus, therefore, wisely endeavoured to calm his friend's anger by acknowledging the justness of his sentiments, and by promising to adopt them himself if possible, when suddenly their attention was roused by a sound, which seemed like a human voice shrieking for help, as from a distance the breeze conveyed it faintly to their ears. they had now entered an extensive tract of open forest, the trees generally scattered over the ground at some distance from each other, yet in many places clustering together, surrounded by dense masses of thick and tangled underwood. the young men seemed mutually to have banished the feelings raised by their late warm discussion, and instantly urged their horses at full speed in the direction whence they fancied the sound had proceeded, when a second faint cry, though appearing to come from a greater distance, assured them that they were following the right course. their horses were greatly impeded by the rough and uncertain nature of the ground, and often they were obliged to make them leap over the furze and straggling underwood, at the risk of descending into some unseen cavity, or of plunging into a morass. notwithstanding the numerous obstacles, they hurried on at increased speed, eager to render their assistance; for they were confident that the piercing cry they had heard must have been uttered by a woman in distress. they were just emerging from a clump of trees among which they had been entangled, when again the cry was heard, loud and distinct, and at that instant they caught sight of two horsemen galloping among the trees, one of whom bore a female in his arms; these were followed by two men on foot running at full speed. it was the work of some few minutes before they could disengage themselves from the thickets and brushwood, a delay which afforded the party ahead of them an opportunity of increasing their distance; but, urging their horses with whip and spur over every obstacle, and gaining the more clear around, they ere long overtook the men on foot, who, seeing their rapid approach, shouted loudly to their companions to return to their support. the latter, however, in lieu of turning to render assistance, redoubled their speed, intent upon escape, and regardless of the loud cries of their overtaken followers. these, finding escape impossible, rushed forward to seize the bridles of their pursuers' horses, but were so effectually attacked by the heavy whips of the two cavaliers, that they were fain, not only to loose their hold, but were completely disabled from following. having thus got rid of these antagonists, the two friends set off in pursuit of the mounted ruffians, who were forcibly carrying away the female; her continued cries for assistance, indicating the track they had taken. the scene had become highly exciting. before them lay an open forest glade, and it was now a trial of speed. the noble animals urged to their utmost, dashed onwards, appearing to partake of the feelings which animated their riders. the ravishers, on the near approach of their pursuers, turned on their saddles, each levelling a pistol at his selected man; these, fearful of wounding the female, would not venture to use their arms. the unencumbered horseman discharged his pistol at thaddeus, as the latter approached; but, at the speed they rode, the aim was uncertain, and the ball flew wide of its mark; before the villain had time to use a second, the young pole struck him on the head with the butt-end of his whip, with so powerful and well directed a blow, as to force him from the saddle, from which he fell heavily to the earth. at the same moment, his companion, on ivan's attempting to seize his horse's bridle, aimed a pistol at his breast; but that movement leaving his victim free, she quickly disengaged her arm from the folds of the cloak which shrouded her, and struck aside the barrel of the weapon levelled at her rescuer; the impulse, though feeble, was sufficient to divert its deadly aim; the ball nevertheless grazed ivan's side. the latter succeeded, notwithstanding, in grasping the bridle of his antagonist's horse, and the same delicate hand which had but a moment previously, in all probability saved his life, promptly snatched the pistol yet remaining in the ruffian's belt, and cast it to the ground. the man who had fired at ivan, was now obliged to defend himself, and was accordingly compelled to relax his hold of the girl, who, when falling from the saddle, was fortunately caught by thaddeus. the latter had thrown himself from his horse to prevent her sustaining any serious injury, which, closely engaged as ivan was with his adversary, he had no power to avert. giddy from the pain of his wound, and loss of blood, ivan loosened his grasp of the rein he had seized; this being perceived by his antagonist, he plunged his spurs into his horse's flanks, and dashed off at headlong speed into the depths of the forest, where pursuit was entirely useless. the young men, left victors of the field, now turned their attention to the fair creature whom their gallantry had so opportunely rescued; and well did the extreme beauty of her form and features merit the looks of surprise and admiration with which they regarded her. her appearance was indeed unusual, and though they saw at once, that she was not one of the exalted and proud ones of the land, they internally confessed, that she was well worthy of that distinction. the agitation of the scene had caused the rich blood to mantle on her brow and beautifully oval cheeks, the complexion of which was of a clear, though slightly tinted olive, while her large sparkling black eyes, moist with tears, were now beaming with a look of gratitude, as bending on her knees, she attempted to kiss the hands of her deliverers, who prevented her from paying them this homage. her glossy black locks, bound by a silver fillet on her high and polished brow, were uncovered, and hung down in long ringlets on her neck, nearly reaching to her slender waist. a light blue cloak thrown over her shoulders, and a vest and petticoat of red cloth trimmed with silver, completed her fantastic, but elegant and rich attire. the character of her strange costume, and her dark expressive features, proclaimed her to be of that extraordinary race now wandering over the greater part of the old world, who profess to trace their origin from the aboriginal inhabitants of egypt; retaining the same language and customs from age to age, and ever keeping distinct from the people in whose territories they pass their migratory lives. the scene we have described, passed in the course of a few moments, during which time the young men had become entire masters of the field; one villain, who by his dress and manners, appeared to be of a rank far above his companions, had fled; the other still remained senseless on the earth, from the stunning blow thaddeus had dealt him; while the two men, whom they had first attacked, lay in a similar plight at a considerable distance. astonishment kept her deliverers silent, as they gazed with admiration on the gipsy girl, for her delicate features and slight airy figure shewed her extreme youth; she was accordingly the first to speak, when she found herself prevented by them from expressing her feelings of gratitude in the way she wished. "though you may deem, gentle sirs, that the thanks of a humble gipsy girl can be but of little worth," she said, "oh! believe me, that from the depth of my heart, i am grateful to you, for having saved me from worse than death, for well do i know the vile nature of the man from whom you have rescued me. but let me entreat you, haste from hence, or the ruffian noble who has escaped, will return with a band of his followers trained to evil, and will thus not only render your generous and timely aid unavailing, by again getting me into his power, but his return may bring destruction on yourselves." "fear not for us;" cried thaddeus, "for your sake, lovely maiden, we would face a hundred foes; and think not that such an arrant coward, as yonder villain has shewn himself to be, can make us hurry our departure. if he be even one of the most powerful of the land, we fear him not." "he is wicked and powerful enough to commit his crimes with impunity," answered the gipsy girl; "let me pray you earnestly, therefore, to complete the benefit you have rendered me, and to follow my advice by hastening from hence; for i feel confident, that he will endeavour to revenge himself on you, for your interference in my favour, and will return shortly with a greater number of men than you could possibly resist." "you speak truly, i believe," said ivan, "and we shall do well to follow your advice." "you are always in the right, ivan," answered thaddeus, "so i suppose we may beat a retreat after our victory, without dishonour, when an overpowering force threatens us." "oh! yes!--yes!" exclaimed the liberated girl, "hasten from hence; and believe me, there is not a moment to be lost. yet, grant me but the one favour more, of allowing my kindred and friends to return you those thanks which my words cannot fully convey." "we will, at all events, see you in safety," answered ivan, "and, at your desire, we will avoid the chance of meeting your enemies, however little we have reason to fear them." they accordingly prepared to quit the scene of their encounter, and ivan was about to offer to raise the fairy-like form of the gipsy girl on his horse, when the slight exertion he made, caused the blood to flow more freely from his side, and she caught sight of the red stream trickling down, which he himself had not observed, for the pain was but slight, and the excitement of action had diverted his attention from it. the colour for an instant deserted her cheek, as taking a light scarf from under her cloak, she petitioned him to allow her to bind his wound. "you are hurt, sir," she exclaimed, "and i am the unhappy cause of the injury. my tribe have some skill in surgery: even i myself have received instruction in the art from an aged woman learned in simples, and thus think me not bold in making the offer, but as the slightest mark of my gratitude, let me be allowed to heal the wound i have been the cause of your receiving." ivan thankfully accepted her aid, as with gentleness she quickly bound his side with the scarf, for the pain had now considerably increased. while thus engaged, they perceived the two villains whom they had left senseless on the earth, cautiously endeavouring to steal upon them, crouching as they advanced among the low thickets; and at the same time the man who had been felled from his horse, shewed signs of returning animation. thaddeus humanely placed the body of the latter reclining against a tree, having wrested from him his weapons, which he cast, together with such as lay on the ground, to a distance, amongst the underwood. the gipsy girl had just completed her task, when the horse belonging to their prostrate enemy, after ranging the glade in a wide circle, without however going out of sight, now approached the spot he had first left, as if in search of his master: with the rapidity of thought she sprung forward, and catching the animal's bridle, lightly vaulted on his back without any apparent effort, merely touching the saddle to steady herself in her perilous feat. "now, for the love of the god you worship," she exclaimed, "ride on, noble sirs, nor care for me. we children of the desert are early accustomed to far more difficult feats than this, and without danger, i can retain my seat on a more spirited steed than the one which now bears me." the young men, following her example, had mounted their horses, and on her pointing out with her hand the road they were to take, the party set off at full speed, though the former were compelled to apply their spurs closely in order to keep pace with the less fatigued steed of their beautiful and extraordinary guide. she, avoiding the thick tangled part of the forest, which had before impeded them, conducted them by a more circuitous way, but over smooth open ground, and at a much greater speed than they had been able to attain when hurrying to her rescue, until they regained the high road, which they crossed, and plunged into the adjoining forest. suddenly checking her horse, she then addressed them-- "fear gave me the fleetness of the timid hare; but truly ungrateful must i appear, through my own weakness, in forgetting that one of my generous preservers is suffering severe pain. oh, pardon me, for my fault, caused by the dread of a danger which you are now unable to understand." ivan assured her that his wound inconvenienced him so little, that he was able to continue at the same swift pace, if she thought it advisable; she again resumed the lead, though not quite so rapidly as before. "your horses are fatigued," she said, as they rode onwards, "and the day is so far spent, that it will be after nightfall ere you can reach any shelter, and i fear that, before long, a storm will burst over our heads: yon black cloud is but the forerunner of others." as she spoke, she pointed to an opening among the trees, through which were seen dense masses of clouds fast gathering on the sky. "if you despise not the humble shelter of a gipsy tent, you will there be treated to the best of our means, for the people of my tribe, though rough and fierce in aspect, will vie with each other in shewing their attention and devotion to those who have rescued one of their daughters from peril." a determination not to leave the young gipsy, until they had escorted her to a place of safety, added to a natural feeling of curiosity to learn something of the beautiful creature whom chance had introduced to them under such exciting circumstances, prompted both ivan and thaddeus to accept her offer of hospitality without hesitation. although but a few minutes previously, the sky over head had been bright and clear, the storm which their guide had predicted, now threatened to overtake them, as the heavens became overcast with a dark canopy of clouds. once more pressing their jaded horses, they galloped on for several miles, scarcely noticing the nature of the country through which they passed, until they arrived at a spot so thickly wooded as to render a passage impracticable. their conductress, however, advancing a little to the right, led them along a path formed apparently by the hand of nature, through a narrow entrance, winding in various directions, and widening as they proceeded, till they suddenly emerged into a sylvan amphitheatre carpeted with soft green turf. in one part of the wood-encircled glade, arose a group of tents, surrounded by waggons; whilst horses and other cattle tethered hard by, were browsing on the luxuriant pasture. the approach of the party was immediately announced by the loud barking of several large shaggy dogs, who rushed forward with open jaws, prepared to attack all intruders; but no sooner did the savage animals hear the silvery tone of the guide's voice, than their angry growl was changed into a cry of joy, as leaping up they fawned on her, and endeavoured to gain her caresses. they were quickly recalled by a man who issued from the shelter of the waggons, armed with a long gun; he, on recognising the gipsy maiden advanced without any parley, to hold her horse's rein, as she dismounted, springing lightly on the turf. a shrill whistle from him brought out two rough looking little urchins, who, at his sign, ran quickly forward to perform the same office for the strangers. after exchanging a few words with the attendant, in a language unintelligible to ivan and thaddeus, their guide led the way towards a tent, which, from its size appeared to be the principal in the encampment: like the rest it was formed of skins neatly sewn together, affording a secure shelter from the weather. in front stood a tall well-built man, whose dark elf locks escaping from beneath a sheep-skin cap, gave him somewhat of a ferocious appearance, which, however, his full and sparkling black eye, and the laughing curl of his lips fully belied. his dress consisted of a cloth jacket confined at the waist by a leathern belt, and full trousers with leggings of untanned leather. he gazed with a look of astonishment at the intruders, then at their conductress, from whom he seemed to ask for an explanation, as she hastened to meet him with an air of affection. folding her in his arms with a fond and gentle embrace, after exchanging a few words in a hurried and low tone of voice, he stepped up to where the strangers stood, and grasping their hands, pressed them to his heart. "the preservers of my daughter," he said, addressing them in russian, "are thrice welcome to my humble tent, and it will be my aim, and that of all the tribe, of which i am the head, to show to the utmost our gratitude for the benefit conferred upon us. think not, noble sirs, that, though the world accuses us of many vices, ingratitude is one with which we can be justly charged. but see! while i thus detain you the storm is about to burst, and my tent will at least afford you shelter from its fury, though it be destitute of the luxuries to which you are accustomed." heavy drops of rain had now commenced falling; the wind whistled mournfully through the boughs of the trees, which became wildly agitated by the sudden blast, while vivid flashes of lightning darted from the heavens, and played around their heads. "will you deign, noble sirs, to enter the only abode i can call my own," said the gipsy chief, leading the way to his tent; "a very changeable one in truth; but wherever my tent is pitched, there shall my friends be welcome." saying which, he arrived at the entrance of the principal tent, while his daughter, making a sign of respect to his guests, withdrew to a neighbouring one. volume , chapter ii. the travellers had full reason to congratulate themselves on escaping the torrents of rain now rushing down from the thick-gathered clouds, as they followed the gipsy chief into his tent, the interior of which seemed to afford better accommodation than its outward appearance had promised. about midway, a curtain stretching the whole width of the tent, now drawn up, exposed the whole of the interior at one view; but on being unfolded, formed two distinct apartments. the furniture was of the most simple description, consisting merely of several large chests, on which were piled various rolls of skins and blankets, and a few stools and benches. at one end, suspended against the sides of the tent, hung a variety of kitchen utensils in the highest state of polish; at the other, fire-arms of different sizes and workmanship, powder-flasks, and shot-belts, and hunting-knives, picturesquely mingled with the produce of the chase. there were also several planks intended for tables, beds, or for seats. the ground was hidden from view by a warm and soft carpet of skins; the selection of the spot was judicious, for, being raised slightly above the surrounding land, it remained perfectly dry, notwithstanding the flood of rain outside. the only inmate of the tent, when the party entered, was a handsome woman, whom the gipsy introduced to the strangers as his wife. she was busily employed in some housewifery occupation, which she quitted to receive the visitors, assuming an air which would not have disgraced a high-born lady, and then proceeded to prepare the evening repast. a couple of chests were brought forward, upon which they laid a platform of boards, forming an excellent table: this was quickly covered with an abundance of cold provisions, fowls and game of various kinds, coarse but sweet bread, and a bottle of quass, the common beverage of the country, manufactured from malt; nor were more potent spirits wanting to cheer the guests. their host requested the young men to be seated at the table, while he and his wife attended to their wants, nor would he be prevailed upon to join them in their repast. "it behoves us," he replied, "to wait on you, while our tent is honoured by your presence; and i pray you, sirs, to excuse my daughter azila's absence, she has retired among the other maidens of the tribe, to rest awhile after the fatigue her looks too clearly betray she has suffered. i confess i am still ignorant of the details of her adventure; it was sufficient at first for me to know that you had conferred a benefit on one so dear to me. "her protracted absence had, indeed, given me anxiety, as she had not told me of her intention to quit the camp; but at the same time i do not interfere with her movements, which are often unknown to any of the tribe, and she is accustomed to go and return unquestioned. azila is indeed a strange girl, and few can match her in understanding, or resolution; i well know that she has always just reasons for her frequent excursions from the camp, and that her exertions are in the cause of justice and humanity, so i do not seek to inquire into more than what she herself thinks right to tell me; i know well that i can trust her." although their host's features and manner evidently exhibited his anxiety to learn all that had occurred, his hospitality would not permit his guests to speak of their adventure until the repast was finished; when they recounted the events which led to their liberation of his daughter. while they were speaking, the object of their conversation entered the tent, and approaching her father, reverently kissed his hand, then bowing to his guests, with arms crossed on her bosom she stood with downcast eyes by his side. the father gazed on her with looks of affection, while the young men could scarcely conceal their admiration. "can this retiring, modest creature," thought ivan, "be the same who, so short a time since, proved herself endowed with so much courage and resolution?" neither of the two friends could, for some time, find words to address her, for they felt that terms of flattery and compliment would be despised by one so superior; her father, however, relieved them from their embarrassment. "now that our guests have tasted of our food, and drunk from our cup, i may ask of you, my child, an explanation of the circumstances that preceded your rescue. i burn to know who has dared to commit such an outrage on one of the children of the zingani; whoever he be, he shall not escape the punishment due to his villainy." a blush mantled on the cheek of the gipsy girl as she answered, "alas! my father, i fear that my enemy is too powerful and cautious, for you to be able to punish him, and there are circumstances which have lately occurred to me, i would fain have hidden even from you, had not he of whom i am about to speak, carried his persecution to so flagrant an extent. my story is a long one; but at your desire i will relate it, entreating my brave defenders will pardon a poor maiden for her hesitation in recounting events which have caused her much pain. "during one of my last visits to moscow, when our encampment was formed in its vicinity, i one day joined a party of the daughters of another tribe of our people, to one of whom i had matters to communicate. they were dancing and singing in the public gardens to crowds of admiring citizens, who were enjoying their evening's recreation after the toils of the day. as we moved from place to place, i observed a person intently observing me, who i fancied had, during the day, been watching and following me; and him i now distinguished from the crowd by his handsome dress, and the disdain with which he regarded all around him. as i moved on with my companions he still followed us, till at length weary, doubtless, of viewing the same dances, and hearing the same songs, he disappeared from the gardens, and i then concluded that i had been mistaken in my suspicions. the evening was far advanced when, having parted from my companions, i set out alone to return to the encampment, and in seeking to reach it by a shorter path, i found myself in a secluded walk. hastening along, i was suddenly confronted by a stranger whom i immediately recognised as the same, who had previously watched my movements in the gardens. as i endeavoured to pass him unnoticed, he seized my arm with a rude grasp, and exclaimed: "`ah! have i at last found you, my fair damsel, for whom i have been searching so many long days? often have i seen you, but until now never gained an opportunity of declaring my sentiments. i am the count erintoff! my carriage is waiting near, and will soon transport you beyond the reach of those who have interested motives in detaining you among them.' "i cannot repeat all the arguments he used to persuade me to accompany him, or the terms of flattery and base offers he made. i treated them all with the disdain they deserved. when he pronounced his name, i recollected that i had heard he was notorious for many vices, even among those of his own rank, with whom virtue is too seldom practised, or prized. "`unhand me, sir,' i exclaimed; `i will no longer listen to you, but would pursue my way to my friends.' "`ah, my scornful beauty,' he answered with a laugh, `not so fast i pray you; if prayers avail not, i must e'en use gentle force to compel you to accept advantages you would so foolishly reject; though not for the universe would i injure you. here, knaves!' summoning to the spot by their various names, some of the vile assistants in his crimes. "seeing his servants hastily advancing, i struggled in his grasp, and managed by a sudden effort to break from his hold; when darting along the road, without once looking back, i reached the camp, panting and breathless. this outrage remained concealed within my own bosom, for i well knew that the least hint would cause many to take more than ample revenge for the insult i had received. having sustained no actual injury, and trusting that he would desist from any further persecution of me, i was unwilling to bring any of my tribe into danger, by interfering with so powerful an adversary. "alas! i was doomed to be too soon again exposed to his vile projects! this morning, i had gone forth from the camp with aza, lina, and other of our maidens, accompanied by many of the children, to enjoy our pastime in the woods, when in the midst of our sport, after chasing each other among the trees, i became separated from the rest. i heard the laughter of my companions as they retreated, but owing to the closeness of the trees, i could not distinguish their figures; at that moment, a cry was raised by the children, that they had seen a stranger in the wood. i hurried away as rapidly as possible to rejoin the party, when on a sudden, i was seized by two men, who had sprung from a neighbouring thicket. in an instant, before i could recover from the alarm of their assault, they threw a handkerchief over my head, to prevent me from crying for assistance. notwithstanding my utmost resistance, they bore me roughly forward, until they reached another thicket; when the handkerchief being partly withdrawn from my eyes, i beheld a man on horseback, whose features were shrouded in his large cloak, attended by another holding the rein of a led horse. they endeavoured to persuade me to mount it, but i resolutely refused to stir from the spot; nothing they said could induce me, when the cloaked horseman losing patience at the delay, seized me round the waist, placed me on the saddle before him, and bidding one of his followers mount the led horse, bore me off at fall speed. catching a glimpse of my captor's countenance, to my horror i discovered that i was in the power of the count erintoff. the dreadful recollection now flashed across my mind, that we were in the neighbourhood of one of his estates; and i exerted my utmost strength to escape from his grasp, careless of falling to the ground in the attempt; but he held me firmly, protesting, that he loved me to distraction, and that nothing mortal should deliver me from him; while he threatened deadly vengeance against any who should dare to make the attempt. "i could only vent my anger and terror in loud cries for assistance, having succeeded in withdrawing the bandage from my mouth, nor could he replace it, though the advantage offered me but slender hopes of my cries being heard. "thus was i forced away for a considerable distance, in utter despair of being liberated, when i was gallantly rescued by these noble gentlemen at the hazard of their lives. oh, believe me, sirs," she added, "that the zingani maiden can never, while life endure, be unmindful of the great benefit you have bestowed on her." at this recital, the eye of the gipsy chief flashed with indignation; "the audacious barbarian," he exclaimed, "shall rue his vile attempt, though happily rendered abortive; nor shall his high rank protect him! can he not be content to tyrannise over the hapless slaves already in his power, but that he must seek for fresh victims among our tribe? does he mistake us for the wretched serfs who till his lands? he has yet to learn that the zingani are not of their base caste. but, azila, my child! what causes thy sudden agitation?" "see, see, my father," she cried, pointing to ivan, who overcome by fatigue and the pain of his wound, was falling to the ground, when the gipsy sprang forward and caught him in his arms. "alas," cried azila, with an agitated voice, "how ungrateful indeed i have been, and neglectful of him who risked his life to save me, that i should forget he had been wounded! but i will haste and conduct hagar hither, who will tend him with greater skill than i can, though not with more care." azila had scarcely left the tent when ivan returned to consciousness, as he reclined in his friend's arms, thaddeus having relieved the gipsy of his charge. "he will soon be restored by the care of our venerable mother, hagar," said the chief; "for there are few in this country so well acquainted as she is with the healing art." as he spoke, the person mentioned entered the tent, accompanied by azila. her locks were blanched, and her form bowed down by the weight of many years; yet though her skin was wrinkled and tawny, the fire of her dark expressive eye seemed unquenched. "mother," said azila, "as you love your child, exercise your utmost skill in the healing art, by recovering this stranger, who has been wounded in my defence; by your help i know that he may be speedily restored to health." "child," replied the sybil, "the power of healing belongs alone to the great spirit who guards our tribe, and i am but his poor servant, ready to use the means he places in my hands; these will i gladly employ to cure this stranger, though by his looks, i judge that quiet and repose are the remedies most needful for him." such indeed was the case, and in compliance with the old woman's request, the gipsy's wife busied herself in preparing the tent for the night. the curtain alluded to, as intended to separate it into two chambers, was lowered, while, a bundle of skins and blankets being unrolled, a couch was quickly spread on the planks and chests, which had previously composed the table. thither ivan was soon conveyed in the arms of his friend and their host, the rest of the family having quitted the tent, with the exception of hagar, who proceeded to examine the wound; the gipsy meanwhile preparing a second couch, which he begged thaddeus would occupy. the old woman, having completed her inspection of the hurt, and desiring the sufferer to remain perfectly quiet until her return, left the tent to procure the curative simples necessary to dress it. placing a lamp on the ground in the centre of the tent, the gipsy chief, ere he parted from his guests, thus addressed them: "rest in perfect security, noble sirs. i am about to perform the rounds of the encampment, to place trusty men on the watch, in case the ruffians, who have this day attempted so vile an outrage on my daughter, should be excited by revenge at her liberation to attack us under cover of the night. i scarcely deem them possessed of sufficient courage to venture on so bold a project; but their leader is capable of any atrocity; and in this land, where the rich and powerful are above the law, he relies on escaping with impunity, however flagrant the injury committed against the poor and humble. the wandering life we lead teaches us caution; but on my well-trained dogs i can place most reliance in case of a sudden assault, for they never slumber on their posts." with a respectful salutation, he then quitted the tent. left alone with his friend, thaddeus endeavoured to enter into conversation on the occurrences of the day; but ivan, overcome by the pain of his wound, replied in so faint and languid a voice, as plainly shewed that he was in no state to answer his observations. he accordingly stepped noiselessly to the entrance of the tent, and gazed on the wild and unusual scene which lay before him. the storm had now passed away, leaving the dark blue sky in unobscured splendour, spangled with millions of glittering stars, which appeared to have derived a brighter lustre, as if burnished by the rolling of the dark clouds, or sparkling in triumph at the rapid flights of their sable adversaries. a crescent moon threw a silvery light on the topmost boughs of the forest trees, whose giant shadows lay stretched in calm repose across the verdant glade. at times he could perceive dark figures emerging from the shade, and flitting through the moon-light, again to be lost in the gloom, like uneasy spirits wandering in search of rest; but which he concluded were either parties returning to their tents, or the patrols on duty in the camp. thus he stood for some time wrapt in meditation, when suddenly he started at the apparition of a figure which, issuing noiselessly from the obscurity, was within a few paces of him ere it was observed. he instantly recognised hagar, as she advanced, leaning on her staff, and bearing in her hand a small basket. her white locks, hanging in disorder over her wrinkled and care-worn brow, caused her to resemble one of the weird sisters bent on midnight evil, rather than a minister of good, hastening to relieve a human being. the young pole might be excused if a tinge of superstitious distrust crossed his mind, and he hesitated to commit his wounded friend to the care of so strange a leech; but quickly banishing his doubts, he led the way into the tent. kneeling by ivan's couch the aged hagar gently withdrew the scarf, which azila had applied as a bandage, and washing the wound with a decoction of herbs contained in her basket, again swathed it in linen. during the operation, she had continued muttering to herself, regardless whether her patient or his friend were listening, in the following strain: "aye, aye, too clearly do i see how it will be, and thus it has ever been! slight wounds oft pierce far deeper than mortal eyes can see; and young hearts fear not the weapon that destroys them, but bare their bosoms to the stroke! aye, my child, my loved one! bound nearer to my heart than my own offspring, may thy generous and noble heart have no cause to rue the wound this stranger youth has this day received in thy cause! would that i could so read thy fate, as to guard thee from evil! yet when i gaze on the star of thy destiny, my eyes grow dim, my thoughts become confused, and it vanishes from my sight. this stranger--he will be led by a far different path to any that thou canst follow, my child; for in this world justice will never be done thee. he will pursue his course among the high and mighty, and forget the gipsy maiden. or if perchance she should recur to his memory, it will be but as a phantom of a waking dream. alas! far different will it be for her! and thus much can i foresee, that his coming will work danger to my child. alas! alas! though i see it impending, i know not how to prevent it. full well i marked the earnest gaze she unthinkingly cast on this gallant youth. in that one look lay concentrated, feelings, deep, subtle, unknown even to herself, for her thoughts were alone of gratitude to her preservers. though the fate of her i love, the pride of my bosom, and child of my tribe, is hid from my sight, no sooner did the bright stars illumine the heavens, than i discovered and traced the destined course of this stranger. like the brilliant meteor which darted across the firmament, unseen by any mortal eye but mine, as i gazed but now above, i read that his course will be rapid and brilliant, but boisterous and marked with blood, yet pure and unsullied by crime, and leading to a high destiny. as i contemplate these features, calm, and composed, i mark that he is incapable of those crimes which debase human nature. yes, he is worthy of her love. may the mighty spirit who guards our tribe, watch over and protect the preserver of my child." when the aged sybil had concluded these obscure predictions, uttered in a low tone of voice, as she performed her task, she poured out a cooling draught, which she tendered to ivan, who gladly drank it off, and again composed himself to sleep. thaddeus had but a short time before thrown himself on his rude couch, and was fast wrapped in slumber, when hagar took her seat by his friend's side. commencing in a low soothing chaunt, she continued singing till she observed that his eyes were closely sealed in slumber. the words she sang, or rather chaunted, were to the following effect; but being in the zingani language, which is known to few beyond their own people, it is difficult to render their literal meaning; most of the predictions she uttered whilst dressing ivan's wound, were in the same tongue, so that he remained perfectly ignorant of the fate she had prophesied for him. spirits, i summon ye; spirits of air, come round this stranger, watch him with care. come, come ye misty shapes, whence far ye stray, shunning the glaring beams of the bright day. come from dark egypt's land, spirits who dwell 'neath the vast pyramids' deep hidden cell; and who were worshipp'd in temples of old, when priests of stern apis men's fates foretold; from whence in middle earth fearless ye dwell, through its fierce fires, list to my spell. come whence the northern blasts furious blow, fly on your whiten'd wings from frost and snow. ye, who 'neath ocean roam, through coral caves, or in the sparkling foam, sport o'er the waves: ye, who on tempests ride, when the fierce blast, driving the hapless bark, rives the stout mast: ye whose loud shriek is heard 'mid ocean's roar, when the doom'd bark is hurl'd on the stern shore: come, come, attend my will, i summon all; haste through the elements, come at my call. after a profound sleep of some hours, ivan awoke with parched lips and a feverish thirst, which he sought to allay with more of the same refreshing beverage before presented to him. he begged for it, and on taking the cup, could not help fancying that the hand which offered it, was not that of the aged nurse who had previously tended him. he spoke, to satisfy his doubts, but receiving no answer, and drowsiness again returning, he turned on his couch to recompose himself to sleep, when by the dim light which now issued from the lamp, he fancied that he saw a light airy figure gliding from the tent. yet fully aware of his own feverish state, he attributed the idea to a delusion of the brain; nor had he much time to think on the subject ere he again sank into a sound and balmy slumber. volume , chapter iii. daylight was streaming brightly through the opening of the tent, when ivan was awakened by the cheerful voice of his host in conversation with his friend, who had already risen. to their inquiries, he declared himself well nigh, if not entirely recovered, since he was able to rise and dress without feeling any inconvenience from his wound; nor did he consider it necessary to call in again the assistance of hagar, so efficacious had been her remedies. he was soon, therefore, on his feet, and accompanied thaddeus and their host into the woods surrounding the encampment; the latter carrying his gun, his constant companion he informed them, in case any game should cross the path. "so, my worthy host," said thaddeus, "your camp has escaped an attack from our enemies." "i little feared them," answered the gipsy, "as i considered that the count erintoff, and his myrmidons lacked the courage to attack us, however powerful his inclination to possess himself of my daughter, for they knew that we should be prepared for them. let them do their worst; we, the outcasts of society, and despised of men, fear them not. thus it is, sirs, in this unhappy country, where the haughty nobles trample on, and oppress the soulless, and therefore helpless people; but let them not suppose that we are of the same mould as those over whom they tyrannise! no, if we cannot oppose them by open force, we can summon to our aid our wit and stratagem. "they have to learn also that a day of dreadful retribution is at hand; that it will come, when least they expect it. the people will soon be aware of their own strength, however ignorant they may now be of it, and will then no longer submit to bear the chains of servitude, to which they now patiently offer their necks. but your pardon, noble sirs, you yourselves are of the privileged order, and it may not please you to hear your equals thus spoken of with disrespect; though i deem you both very different in nature from those i have described, and consequently know that i can trust in you, or i would not thus unburden my tongue." ivan was surprised to hear a man, whom he imagined to be a wild, unlettered gipsy, give utterance to ideas so similar to those which had been passing through his own mind; but still unwilling to express his own sentiments to a stranger, he merely assured him that what he had said, gave no offence, either to his friend or to himself; and he strengthened the assurance by warmly wringing the gipsy's hard hand as he spoke. thaddeus added, as he sauntered onwards, picking the wild flowers, that he considered it a grievous pity, that there were not a few more honest men like him in the world; as then there would be but little to complain of. "sir," answered the gipsy, "thousands of bosoms beat with impulses similar to my own, and wait but for the time and opportunity to free themselves from bondage. it will be a dreadful crisis, for what power can place bounds to an infuriated and desperate populace, when once they have received the frenzied impulse. let those, who have been the first cause of the insurrection, attempt to quell it; it would be as vain to hope to check the mighty torrent rushing from the before pent up glacier, when it has burst its icy bonds. but enough of this, sirs. i warn you that even now, a storm is gathering which will ere long burst over this country; and may you be prepared to meet the danger when it shall come. more i may not, dare not say, and thus much gratitude, and the certainty that i may fully trust you, have impelled me to speak, that you may benefit by the warning." as they retraced their steps in silence towards the camp, ivan's thoughts reverted to the expressions which the gipsy had let fall. "and can there," he mused, "be a chance of the regeneration of this country; when slavery shall no longer exist; and all men shall have equal lights, and equal justice! oh, how ardently do i wish that i could be instrumental in bringing about so happy a consummation!" on their arrival, they found a repast laid out in front of the tent, consisting of wheat cakes, and bowls of milk. in the places assigned to the two visitors, were laid bunches of wild flowers; that of ivan being distinguished by a wild rose, with the pure morning dew yet glistening on its delicate tinted leaves. "these flowers," said the gipsy, "are my daughter's gift to her guests, though she herself cannot appear before them." they both expressed their thanks for the delicately marked attention, and on finishing their simple, but plentiful meal, they mentioned their wish to resume their journey to tver. the gipsy chief endeavoured to prevail on them, in his rough, but open and manly way, to tarry another day at his camp; but they excused themselves on the plea of their servant being in waiting for them, and ivan declared himself fully capable of undergoing the fatigues of the journey. "if we may not then keep you longer with us," replied their hospitable friend, "we will, at least, accompany you on your way as far as the volga; on the banks of which rapid stream, we are about to form our next encampment, for after the occurrence of yesterday, i have deemed it prudent to move at once." the young men gladly accepted of his escort thus far on the road, and he accordingly gave orders to strike the tents without delay. the order was obeyed most expeditiously; men, women, and children moving about with the greatest alacrity in its execution. some dismantled the tents, and rolled up their covers; others stowed their goods away in chests, each undertaking his task according to his strength. the different rude vehicles used to transport the baggage were thus quickly laden, and in the course of a few minutes, on the spot where lately the skin-covered village stood in tranquil repose, was to be seen a moving mass of noisy human beings; the black marks of their fires on the grass being the sole vestiges of their transitory abode. two wild-looking boys, whose elf locks hung down on their shoulders in tangled masses, and whose eyes sparkled with intelligence, led forward the strangers' horses from a sheltered spot, where they had been picqueted and well taken care of, the chief of the tribe insisting himself on holding their stirrups, while his guests mounted, as he repelled the wild-looking creatures, who gathered round to perform the office. bestriding a strong built cob, which seemed fully able to perform a long day's journey, he gave the signal, and the whole caravan was set in motion, proceeding at as rapid a pace, as the horses could drag forward the well piled baggage-carts. the horsemen led the van, while azila, the chief's wife, and some of the more aged and feeble of the women, followed in a covered conveyance, of rather better construction than those which conveyed the baggage; the rest of the tribe proceeded on foot, assisting in guiding the carts and baggage horses. the men were in general tall, strong limbed, and dark looking, their eyes sparkling with animation and intelligence while the wildness prevailing in their dress and manner, with the look of careless confidence in their countenances, shewed they were but little oppressed with care. the women were dressed in apparel of the most gaudy and fantastic colours, their free and independent gait and air, being very different from that of the inhabitants of crowded cities; their dark complexions set off by their flashing eyes, were handsome and expressive; and their light elastic laugh resounded through the woods, as jest succeeded jest amongst the party. some beguiled the way by singing wild and plaintive melodies, with rich and harmonious voices, while others accompanied the singers on various instruments, which they touched with considerable taste and execution. the gipsies have indeed full scope for the exercise of their musical talents in the east of europe, where they are invariably the chief musicians at all feasts and festivals; whenever a fair or merry-meeting takes place there, a number of them are to be found, and are always well treated by the people. as ivan and thaddeus rode past the several groups, the latter testified the utmost respect for their leader's guests. the party travelled on for several hours, halting only for a short time to rest, till the fast-flowing stream of the majestic volga first met their view, rushing onward in its unimpeded course towards the east, until it empties its mighty volume of waters into the far distant caspian. here the order was given to encamp, and a fitting spot being selected at a short distance from the river, the whole party were soon actively engaged in unloading the waggons, and in erecting their frail tenements. "my worthy friend," said ivan, addressing their host, "time urges us to pursue our journey, and with many thanks for your hospitality, we must bid you farewell." "well, sirs," he replied, "since it is your wish to depart from us, i must needs yield, though i would fain have persuaded you to remain longer among us, to have seen more of the independent wild life we lead; yet, ere you go, there is one here, who would again assure you of her gratitude for your timely assistance in her rescue; and, for my part, although it may seem presumptuous in me to make the offer, yet should you ever be in difficulty or danger, let me know of it, and i may be perhaps able to afford you more aid, than other friends in a higher station may be willing to effect." her father summoned azila, when the maiden advanced with timid and bashful steps, followed at a short distance by the aged hagar, who tottered in her walk as she came forward. already had the strangers paid their adieus to the gipsy's wife, when turning round they perceived azila standing near them, with her arms crossed on her bosom, and her eyes cast on the ground. "adieu, noble sirs," she exclaimed in faltering tones, while tears glistened in her eyes, which shone more brightly than before, undimmed by those eloquent vouchers of her feelings, "the remembrance of your gallant bearing will ever dwell in the mind of the humble gipsy girl, and though she may never be able to shew any other mark of her gratitude, receive all she has to give--her deep and sincere thanks." she bowed her head to conceal her embarrassment and agitation, and the old sibyl then advancing, thus addressed the strangers: "may the mighty spirit who watches over the people of the zingani protect you from all dangers, for well do i foresee that you will require his all potent aid. the strong wind bloweth on a sudden, and none can tell whence it ariseth; so will dangers come thickly around you, nor can you foresee from what quarters they will spring, but like the bold mariner who steers his storm-driven bark amid rocks and quicksands to a safe port, be prepared to meet and escape them, and you have nought to fear. and thou, noble youth with the dark eye," she said, turning towards ivan, "the cold suns of russia shone not upon thy birth. thou earnest from a far distant land, and thither thou must return, where a high and glorious destiny awaits thee; the way will be stormy and dangerous, but hesitate not to follow it; for last night did i read thy fate in the starry firmament above, and it leads to what thou most desirest. and thou, gallant sir," she said, addressing thaddeus, "with the joyous eye, and light laugh, the stars smiled when i read thy destiny, and it will be happy. fare ye well! ye may never see the aged hagar more, but remember her words. farewell!" while the sibyl was uttering this prophetical rhapsody, with all the fervour of action and tone, which her supposed inspiration gave her, the tribe stood round in attentive and respectful silence; and even the young men were so struck by her impressive manner, that they could not resist paying more attention to her words than, perhaps, their judgment would have allowed them to bestow at other times. "thanks for your predictions, good mother, and may they prove true," exclaimed thaddeus, who was always ready to give a light turn to anything which appeared more serious than suited his humour; "and now, our worthy host, we must in truth delay no longer, and bid our last adieu." "not yet, by your leave, sirs," answered the gipsy, "i will, at least, shew you the road which will lead you more directly, and in less time across the forest; which, without my aid, you would scarcely find." "the longer we keep your company, the better shall we be pleased," replied thaddeus; "and therefore we again most willingly accept of your offer." ivan had remained absorbed in thought, at the conclusion of the sibyl's predictions; but suddenly rousing himself, he joined the gipsy and his friend; and as the young travellers rode off, they received the parting salutations of the whole tribe, and paid their more marked adieus to azila. ere they lost sight of the encampment, ivan descried the maiden's light form, watching their departing steps, and, for many a day after, did her graceful figure, and lovely countenance dwell in his recollection. volume , chapter iv. tention, which the noble mind of the generous russian could conceive, was lavished on his unfortunate prisoner, with the benevolent view of banishing the recollection that he was an exile and a captive. although he expressed his gratitude for these courtesies, they proved of little avail in overcoming his wretchedness; and, for some time, he refused to give his parole to his captor, that he would not attempt to escape. at length, the patriotic old noble ceased to entertain hopes that his beloved country could ever regain her liberty, after the final and complete discomfiture of her heroic sons under the walls of warsaw. with a heavy heart, he gave the required promise; and bowed down with grief at his country's loss of freedom, he abandoned all wish of ever regaining his own. he thus lived on a hopeless exile from that land, where his forefathers had dwelt in honour and power for so many ages, and where all the affections of his heart were concentrated, save his love for his only son, now, the sole link which held the chain of his existence. on him he lavished all his care, and the boy returned his father's affection with all the ardour of youth. although the russian noble had rescued his friend from the rigorous sentence of banishment to siberia, the whole of his interest and influence could not save from confiscation the property of one who had taken so prominent a part in every attempt of his countrymen to throw off the russian yoke; so that, with the exception of a small pittance allowed him, he was entirely dependant on his generous host. the old polish noble, broken-spirited, and humbled as he was, hoarded his slender means to the utmost, that, although dependant himself on his friend, his son thaddeus might never owe aught to any one but himself. during his son's boyhood, he devoted his entire attention to his education, and it was a solace to the old man to find him so well worthy of his care; and when he had attained a proper age, he sent him to the military college at st. petersburg, where he gave him a sufficient allowance from his accumulated savings, to enable him to support that standing in society which he considered his birth demanded. he would willingly indeed have sent him to any other country for his education, in preference to that of the oppressors of poland; but he found, on application, that his son could not be allowed to quit russia; and disdaining any other than a military life for him, he was compelled to take advantage of the best which the country afforded. with a father's doting fondness, he hoped that his son might, with his talents and his sword, some day carve out a way to distinction; and perhaps, too, a latent hope existed in his breast that he might aid in the restoration of his native land. from the time since thaddeus resided under the roof of his father's russian friend, he became a favourite with every member of the family; and when he mixed more in the world, his pleasing manners and generous disposition caused his society to be much sought after by all of his own age and rank. no one, however, appeared to have gained so much of his regard as the young ivan galetzoff, who had won his affection without the slightest effort; but there was something in the bold, independent, and almost haughty manners of ivan, which made thaddeus at first regard him with more interest than he bestowed on the rest of his companions who were younger than himself. ivan was nearly two years his junior, which, at that time of life, often makes a great difference in a youth's standing at school or college. from his first arrival at college, ivan galetzoff had appeared to keep aloof from the friendship of his companions, though he joined, and excelled in all athletic sports and exercises. he was courteous to all; but his cold and reserved behaviour prevented the greater number of his companions from making advances in his confidence or friendship. thaddeus, by many trivial attentions to the solitary youth, was the first to overcome this reserve, and the latter seemed to feel grateful for his kindness. they had been as yet, however, but little in each other's society, until thaddeus was seized with a severe illness, when ivan attended on him with fraternal care, ministering to all his wants, and scarcely ever leaving his side. from that period was to be dated their firm friendship, which, though warm and sincere, could not thaw the reserve with which ivan always guarded the subject of his family and connexions; and when any sought to question him, he would turn away with a haughty and angry air, so that even thaddeus remained nearly as ignorant as before of his friend's history. every day, however, seemed more closely to cement the friendship of the two young men, until they were constantly together, supporting each other on every occasion of need. on one point, however, they were dissimilar in taste; while thaddeus's love of gaiety caused him to seek society, ivan, on all occasions, shunned it, devoting himself with so much perseverance and energy to his studies and military exercises, that he was qualified to quit college at the same period with his friend. ivan galetzoff was generally supposed at college to be the son of the baron galetzoff; but as the young man never spoke of him as his father, and indeed avoided, as much as possible, mentioning his name, there were some doubts entertained on the subject; and his proud and retiring manners were, therefore, considered to result from the galling feelings caused by a supposed stigma on his birth. the chateau of the baron galetzoff lay a short distance from moscow; and in the neighbourhood of that city was also the residence of the generous noble who had been the protector of thaddeus's father; but there was no intercourse between the two families, the baron living entirely secluded from the world. the baron galetzoff was in truth, a fierce unpolished soldier, who had frequently distinguished himself in the wars of russia against the turks and the inhabitants of the caucasus, as much by his unexampled cruelty, as by his bravery and military talents. to his own soldiers he was overbearing and tyrannical, and he seemed to enjoy inflicting barbarities on the miserable foes who fell into his power; while to his dependants and the serfs on his estates, he was morose and hard-hearted; so that none could love, and all feared and hated him. his compeers disliked and shunned him, while he, on his part, seemed equally to disregard their censure or applause. he had now retired for some time past from military command, and had since then immured himself in his own chateau, within which the stranger never obtained admittance. when on several occasions ivan had been tempted by thaddeus to leave its sombre halls, and to mix in society, nothing could ever be gleaned from him respecting the internal arrangements of the family, notwithstanding all the attempts which were made to discover the secrets of the mansion. some of the more charitably disposed neighbours concluded that the baron's temper had been soured by domestic affliction, as it was reported that he had lost by sudden death a beautiful wife, whom he tenderly loved, and her child, which had mysteriously disappeared; others however declared, that his brow had always been clouded by the same dark lines. in spite of these various rumours, all concurred in the opinion, that the generous qualities of the young ivan almost made amends for the baron's defects; but they deplored his fate in being obliged to live with a person of so opposite a character. the serfs on the estate loved him almost to adoration, every one of whom was ready to lay down his life in his service. ivan had ever regarded the baron more with fear and awe, than with those feelings of affection and respect, which a son owes to a parent. there was however, one inmate of the chateau, on whom he lavished all the warmth and tenderness of a fond and affectionate heart. she was the one bright star pure and lustrous, towards which he gazed through the cloudy atmosphere of his existence. from his earliest days he had remembered that lovely countenance bending over him with a soft and enraptured gaze. those bright eyes which looked lustreless on others, on him always shed a benign and soothing light. he had long ceased to call her mother, for he had once done so in his childish days, when with a deep drawn sigh, and a gush of tears, she pressed him closer to her bosom, and bade him never again to use that name: the child could not however be taught to call her by any other, and he would therefore avoid all mention of her to any one. she had moreover succeeded in teaching him to refrain from paying her any attention or notice when, by chance, they appeared together in the baron's presence, and the lady's greatest care seemed to be to appear equally regardless of the child. how delightful was it, as a reward for this apparent estrangement, to commune during the baron's absence, with her, when he would listen to every word she uttered, and hear with delight the soft music of her voice. then would she teach him a strange language, which none other around them spoke, and they would converse in it for hours together secure from interruption, until the child spoke it as fluently as russian. he had never inquired, in what country the language he had learned was spoken, it was sufficient for him to know, that it was given to him by the being he most revered and loved, and he cherished his knowledge as a sacred gift which it would be profanation to impart to any other mortal. he always thought in that language, and in it he always poured forth his soul to the great dispenser of good, for he looked upon it as the language of adoration; and as it had become his medium of communication with her he loved most on earth, he felt it as the most fit to adore him who reigns in heaven. upon her he looked as upon a being with an existence separate from and above all the rest of the world. in her presence, his thoughts became more holy, his aspirations loftier; his breast would swell proudly, as she oft described to him the noble deeds of gallant warriors fighting for the liberty of their country, until he ardently longed to emulate their actions; and thus were early implanted in his breast a sincere love of liberty, and a hatred of despotism, with a contempt of every danger which might beset him in the pursuit of the fame he thirsted after. these sentiments had lain almost dormant within him, during the uneventful life which he had hitherto led, and it was only, when at college, he was witness to any tyrannical act of his own companions over their inferiors, that they burst forth; on such occasions he would always step forward in aid of the weakest and injured party. he had so early been taught to conceal his feelings and opinions within his own bosom, that none of his companions were aware of their force or tendency, and had the officers of the college become acquainted with them, a decisive check would have been given to his advancement. as far back as his memory could carry him, no event of importance had occurred to him: ere he was sent to college his education had been placed under the direction of a very worthy but most unintellectual priest, who did not attempt to give him more than the first general rudiments of knowledge; so that from an early age he was accustomed to depend much on his own powers to attain what he sought after. at times the baron seemed to take an interest in his welfare, and in the progress of his studies, but he was very uncertain and variable in his behaviour towards the boy; sometimes treating him with the greatest severity, at others, with indulgence; but never with that kindness or justice which wins the love and respect of youth. he would frequently summon him to attend at the usual field sports of the country, in which he soon learnt to excel; but when the boy could make his escape, he would prefer wandering by himself in the woods with his gun, far more occupied with his own contemplations, than in the pursuit of game; or at other times he would urge his light skiff over the surface of a neighbouring lake, then resting on his oars, would sit gazing on the waters, his thoughts wandering to regions far away. when safe from the baron's detection, he would hasten to a rendezvous with his beautiful guardian and friend, and spend hours of delightful intercourse in her society. reclining at her feet, his recollection would revert faintly and indistinctly to scenes of a far distant, undefinable period, when he fancied he could recall to memory a picture of the bright and sunny mountains of a soft and genial clime--a cottage on the green hill's side, in front a clear and rapid stream, bounding from rod to rock, and sparkling joyously on its way to the blue distant sea beyond; the trees of varied foliage waving in the breeze, and gay-coloured flowers filling the air with sweet perfumes. then would appear, before the vision of his mind, a figure of commanding stature, with noble features, clad in glittering armour, who ofttimes had carried him in his arms. he remembered the very shape of his shield, and the dazzling brightness of his sword, as it was wielded before his eyes in the rays of the sun. then a confused tumult--the loud roar of cannon--the rattle of musketry--the clashing of swords--red blood flowing around--the wild shouts of men striving in deadly combat--the shrieks of terror-stricken women--the anguish-wrought groans of the wounded and dying--rushed across his recollection. after those scenes, if such had ever been presented to his sight, the tablet of his memory, for a lapse of time, remained a complete blank, and his first clear remembrance was of the chateau of the baron galetzoff, when he found himself loved and petted by its inmates, and even treated by its haughty lord with as much kindness as his capricious nature would allow, and with much more than he seemed to bestow on any other human being. once only had ivan mentioned the obscure recollection of his infant years to his fair protectress, but she had, in a passionate flood of tears, charged him, as he valued her love and happiness, never to allude to the subject again. with advancing years, the visions faded gradually from his mind, or if he thought of them, he considered them but as a dream of childhood, and believed himself in reality to be the son of the tyrannical baron galetzoff. volume , chapter v. we left the serf karl urging on the weary animal which drew his master's baggage-cart towards tver, and there he arrived without any other accident than a thorough drenching from the same storm which they had escaped under shelter of the gipsy's tent. he proceeded straightway to the best inn the town possessed, which was kept by one of the despised race of israel, who are the principal innkeepers throughout the country. the inn in question was very inferior to those houses of entertainment which most of the larger cities of russia now afford; but rapid improvements in all the conveniences for travelling have lately taken place. the lower floor of the house consisted of two divisions; the one appropriated to the horses and equipages of travellers, the other to the culinary department of the establishment, as also to the accommodation-- at that precise moment--of a motley assemblage of human beings, soldiers, mechanics, carriers, wagoners, postillions, all talking at the same time in their guttural language; smoking, drinking, and hallowing to each other, with loud laughter and jokes; yet the ear was never shocked by the profane oath, or other evidences of the fierce quarrels, which too often occur amongst a mixture of people of similar degree in other countries. the upper part of the building was laid out in rooms for the accommodation of the better order of travellers. one of larger dimensions than the rest formed the dining-room--this was completely impregnated with the fumes of tobacco; the rest consisted of sleeping apartments. as karl drove into the court-yard, he seemed to have roused himself to a sense of his own importance, and the responsibility with which he was entrusted, for he endeavoured to assume an air of authority. "help, here! help!" he exclaimed as the wheels of his cart rattled over the stones, "help here, to carry the baggage of my noble masters up-stairs! does no one come? help here, help, halloo!" his calls for assistance were at last heeded by a being very similar to himself in dress and features. "halloo, villain!" cried karl, as the man approached, "can you not hear when a christian calls? here, help me to carry this baggage, will you?" "who art thou that speakest thus to me?" demanded the other; "art thou better than i am myself, knave? art thou not a slave as well as i?" "ay, ay, truly," answered karl, "but i serve a noble master, whilst thou art but the slave of a base-born hebrew innkeeper!" "there thou liest!" exclaimed the indignant ostler, for such was his office. "i serve the innkeeper truly, and if he did not oblige me to observe his fasts, as well as those of our own holy church, the service would not be so bad; but i am no slave of his. i am the born serf of the noble baron ogstrofsty; he has let me out for hire, to the old jew levi, to pay off an old score, and when i have worked it out, i shall return to my own master." "that alters the case," replied karl, rubbing his forehead, that he might more clearly understand the knotty difference, "so now let us be friends, and lend me your aid." "with all my heart, now that thou art civil," said the ostler. suiting the action to the word, after fastening the horse's bridle to a ring in the wall, he assisted in taking the luggage from the cart, and led the way up a rude flight of steps, on the landing of which they were met by the landlord levi, who had been eagerly looking out, in the hope of making considerable gain by his new guests. "my noble master, the son of the baron galetzoff, and my noble master's friend, sent me on before them to announce their coming, and to engage beds and supper. they will be here anon, so make ready for their reception: their baggage must be placed in their room that i may unpack it, for they will be rather wet, i fancy, when they arrive." "your noble masters shall be well served," answered levi, bowing rather to the young nobles' portmanteaus, than to the bearer of them. "this way, this way!" and he conducted karl into a room, boasting of but little comfort. to him, however, it appeared a luxurious apartment, and he immediately commenced unpacking the luggage. that done, he locked the door, and descended with his fellow-serf to look after his horse, and to attend to his own creature comforts. seating himself at the long table in the common eating-room, among the strange variety of guests, he applied himself with unwearied energy to the business of mastication, washing down his food with deep draughts of quass; and so completely was he engaged in this, to him, most grateful occupation, that he paid but little attention to what was going on around him. when his appetite was at length thoroughly satisfied, he pushed the empty dish from before him, with a sigh, and took another long and steady draught from the jug of quass. he then resigned himself to the enjoyment of his sensations of satisfaction, when his eye-lids began to fall; re-opening slightly, they closed again, his head nodded for a minute, when he shook it to rouse himself, but it soon again fell slowly down, and he dropped fast asleep, resting his arms and shoulders on the table. some time had elapsed, when he was aroused by the entrance of two men, who seated themselves close to him, one of them pushing rudely against him as he took his seat at the table. the movement made karl raise his head, and seeing two serving men in the liveries apparently of a nobleman, he endeavoured, for the sake of good fellowship, to join in their conversation; but he found it impossible to sustain his head without the support of the table. he listened, however, for some time to what they were saying, till their words grew indistinct and meaningless to his comprehension, and karl sunk again into sleep. "well," said one of the new-comers, "this is a pretty business we've been engaged in. first, the certainty of being knocked on the head by the gipsies, had they caught us, of which there was every risk; then, the very clear reality of finding ourselves knocked down by two wild horsemen, who seemed to have risen out of the forest, for no other purpose than to interfere where they had no business; and then, because we could not prevent their getting up to the count, when we did our best, to be rewarded with a thrashing and a load of abuse; and finally, to be sent, with our broken heads, scampering across the country to look after these gentlemen. and after all, what is the cause of all this fuss?--a woman--a girl--a piece of painted flesh! a baggage, no better than those who go singing about the streets of moscow. so coy and modest too! why the count is mad to make such a disturbance about her. it makes me thirsty to think of it--hand the quass, kruntz." "you may well say that," answered his companion, "for i never saw our master in such a taking before. he swears he will have deadly vengeance against those who prevented him from carrying off the girl; and he says that he should know them again, whether he met them in this world or the next. i don't think he has much chance of meeting them in a better place, do you, groff?" "no, no," answered the first speaker; "our master has played too many odd tricks on earth for that. he may know them, perhaps, for he had time to see their faces; but it is too hard of him to expect that we should; for i could have sworn, when they came so suddenly upon us, that they were the wild horsemen of the woods." "they may be devils themselves, and still not escape our master's vengeance," replied kruntz; "and, as for the girl, he will entrap her before long, or he will not act like himself. if he cannot do it by open force, he has numerous secret means to bring about his ends." "that i'll be sworn he has," said the other; "and so long as he pays me well, i am ready to serve him, though i do not much relish so hard a ride as he sent us, in a storm, on a fool's errand. yet if i could find out who the two young gallants were, who gave us such confoundedly hard blows, i should like to see how they felt under like treatment. some more vodka, kruntz, that's the stuff; now for our pipes. drown care first, and then smoke him dry, and he won't trouble you; that's the way for honest men like us to live." these two worthies, after enjoying their tobacco, left the room. they will be easily recognised as the myrmidons of the count erintoff, sent forward in great haste by their master, to trace the horsemen, who had arrested him in his flight with the gipsy maid--a circumstance the more embittering to his pride, after his success in securing her person. he had also dispatched others in an opposite direction, with the same orders. karl at length awoke to find that the shades of evening had already enveloped the town in obscurity; and he rushed out in great dismay, at having overslept himself, to endeavour to gain some tidings of his young master and his friend; but in vain--he could hear nothing of them. the honest fellow now became greatly alarmed, making inquiries of every body he met, till finding that his master had certainly not yet arrived in tver, he lay down, to await his coming, on one of the wooden benches in the eating-room, when he very soon again fell into a sleep--not the less sound from his deep potations of quass--and did not awake till long after the morning had dawned, and the inmates of the hotel were astir. he started up, rubbing his eyes, and looking around to convince himself where he was; when recollecting the events of the previous day, he instantly set off to gain intelligence of his master. with eager agitation, he questioned all who came in his way, high and low; but most people pushed the lowly unshorn serf aside, without deigning to answer him; some ridiculed him, and bade him seek a new master, if he had lost his old one, for he would never find him again. among those whom he had casually addressed, was one of the two individuals, whose conversation he had partly overheard when sitting by his side on the previous evening. "you are inquiring for your master and his friend," asked groff; "two young men, you say, whom you parted from about twenty versts off; as they rode by themselves through the forest." by thus interrogating the honest, but simple karl, he learned every particular he sought to know respecting ivan galetzoff and his companion. poor karl spent the long day in great tribulation, walking to and fro in front of the inn, inquiring of everybody who arrived from the direction of st. petersburg, if they had overtaken his master and fellow traveller; but obtaining no intelligence, he proceeded along the road for some miles in the hope of meeting them; again unsuccessful, he returned in case they should have passed by some other way. towards evening, when he perceived the lost cavaliers approaching, his joy knew no bounds. running to meet them, and ere they had time to dismount, he seized their hands and covered them with kisses. he gave their horses in charge to the ostler, and conducted them to their room, where they were glad to rest, after the excitement and fatigues of the preceding day. their arrival had been observed by others with equal satisfaction to that felt by honest karl, though arising from very dissimilar motives. groff and his companion concealed within a doorway, watched them as they dismounted, and being fully satisfied of their identity, both from karl's description, and their own recollection of the wild horsemen, by whom they had been felled in the forest, they immediately mounted their horses to convey their information to the count. ivan felt but little inconvenience from his wound; the aged hagar having treated it so efficaciously. he was, therefore, enabled to continue on the journey to moscow, early the next morning; notwithstanding the numerous eloquent reasons urged by their considerate landlord, to persuade them to delay it. they crossed the magnificent volga, by a bridge of boats. this mighty current rushing onward in its course, divides europe from asia; it is navigable well nigh to its very source--a distance of four thousand miles; and after bathing the walls of astracan, finishes its career in the far distant caspian. its banks are peopled by the warlike tribes of cossacks, who so unrelentingly harassed the skirts of the french army, during their disastrous retreat from russia. on its noble waters were being transported rich cargoes of grain, the produce of its fertile banks, in boats of various sizes, rigged with a single but lofty mast, supporting an immense sail, and a long rudder, projecting far beyond the stern, which is admirably adapted to guide them, when passing the rapids. the villages through which the travellers' route lay, were forlorn and miserable; being generally the property of the seigneurs, and occupied by their serfs. they consisted of a single long street, lined on either side with cottages built of rough logs: those of the more affluent being formed of the same materials, hewn and squared into more regular shape. their gable ends projecting far into the street, discovered occasionally patches of rude carving; small holes perforated in the walls serving as windows. in many spots along the road, were small chapels with pictures of the panagia (the russian appellation of the virgin mary,) or of some of the multitudinous saints in their calendar; these were the especial objects of karl's devotion, as he bowed his head to them, and crossed himself all over with the greatest reverence. they overtook many teams of small carts, sometimes forty together; carrying tallow, hides, and hemp to the cities, to be exchanged for merchandise, with which they return to the interior: their drivers were generally lying asleep on their goods, one alone at the head of the train, conducting the team. as evening closed in, they halted, forming bivouacs by the way-side, and their cheering fires served as beacons for the wayfarer. although but a few years have glided by, since the period to which we allude, great changes have taken place on the highway between st. petersburg and moscow. not only has the road been macadamised, and become one of the best in europe, but elegant bridges have been thrown across the rivers and streams; handsome, well-conducted post-houses have been established on the road, and public conveyances traverse it regularly. it was towards the evening of the second day of their departure from tver, that they approached the phoenix-like, the resuscitated, holy, and ancient city of moscow. the rays of the setting sun shed a glittering lustre on the innumerable gilded domes, steeples and spires, of its churches, shooting upwards from amid the dark masses of habitations, like trees of gold in a forest of enchantment. each tower being surmounted by the emblem of christian faith, resplendent with gold, and connected by golden chains, which shone more brightly as they waved in the breeze. this gorgeous scene breaking suddenly on their sight, arrested their progress; the stately city, extending over a wide space of undulating ground, encompassed by woody and cultivated heights--the hundred-crested kremlin rising majestically above all--the magnificent palaces, churches, and convents, with their cupolas and domes of blue, and white, and gold, giving it an aspect of oriental magnificence. karl, animated by a spirit of devotion, threw himself from the cart, and prostrated himself on the soil, in adoration, as he beheld the jerusalem of russia--the city sanctified in their hearts, and so beloved by every true muscovite. having completed the ceremony, with innumerable genuflexions and crossings, much to his own satisfaction, he drove on to regain his master and thaddeus, who not being imbued with the same feeling of respect for the city of the czars, and having often viewed the spectacle, had, after a slight pause at the grandeur of the scene, proceeded on their road. after traversing many of the irregular, winding streets of the city, the moment arrived when they were to part, to hasten to their respective homes. exchanging pledges to meet again as soon as circumstances would permit, they then started off in opposite directions. volume , chapter vi. missing the society of his lively companion, a shade of gloom overspread the handsome features of ivan; his mind being thus thrown back upon itself, the sombre scenery through which he passed, as he drew nigh to the end of his journey, on the day after he quitted his friend, contributed to augment the melancholy bias of his thoughts. on either side of his path arose a thick and dark wood, without a single opening vista, or a green glade; every part seemed impenetrable to joy and gladness. the habitations of the miserable and oppressed serfs were closed; their inmates having early retired to rest, after the ill-requited toils of the day. occasionally, however, he fell in with labourers returning to their homes, who, as they recognised the son of their seigneur, saluted him with respect and a look of affection. in an instant, the cloud on his brow would be dissipated as he returned their greetings, and offered a kind word to each, either in inquiries after their families, or other good-natured remarks, by which the unsophisticated peasant's heart is so easily gained. on approaching the chateau, even such signs of life as had previously appeared ceased to exist, and all around wore, if possible, a still more gloomy and dreary aspect. he unconsciously shortened his rein; that action sufficed to betray that he could not regard the baron in the light of a father. so far from having an anxious desire to hasten to receive his welcome, his languid pace proved his reluctance to enter sooner than necessary into the presence of the fierce lord of that dark domain. his heart was a blank as he drew up at the principal entrance. no group of bustling and pleased domestics stood ready to receive him on his return, after a long absence; no fond mother or affectionate sisters, to rush forward with outstretched arms, to welcome him in a loving embrace, or to surround him as they gazed with eager and delighted eyes, their repeated inquiries lost amid the confusion of anxious tongues. all within was as silent as without, a solitary household serf alone presenting himself at ivan's summons; while, after considerable delay, another of the same class appeared, to lead his horse to the stables; both, however, greeted him with welcome smiles. his heart now beat with eagerness to hasten to the presence of the revered and much loved being so mysteriously connected with him, for well he knew how anxiously she was awaiting his arrival. at the same time, a feeling of dread came over him, of misfortune having befallen her; she might be on her death-bed, perhaps--horrible thought!--extended a cold and lifeless corpse! lost to him for ever, and her important secret known to none but her god! this idea became almost insupportable. he dared not make any inquiries respecting her of the domestic. to visit her, ere he had appeared to the baron, who he was informed had desired his presence immediately on his arrival, would have been attended by results equally injurious to her as to himself. without delay, therefore, he was ushered into the apartment where the baron was sitting, who neither rose as the young man advanced to pay his respects, or relaxed the cold stern cast of his features. the baron galetzoff seemed a man long past the prime of life, on whom age had laid its wintry marks, but still retaining the air and firm port of a soldier. his stature was rather under than above the middle height, and his figure full and unwieldy. his features might have been handsome in his youth, though now they were disfigured by an habitual scowl on his forehead, and a deep cut reaching from the left eye to the lower part of the ear; his cold grey sunken eyes retreating, as if from observation, under the shade of his coarse overhanging brows. his grizzled moustache was long and untrimmed; and this, when excited by passion--no uncommon occurrence, unfortunately for his dependants--or labouring under uncertainty as to the success of his projects, he was wont to twist and pluck at. "so, sir," he exclaimed, in a tone of severity, as ivan approached the table, "you have loitered on your way, methinks; else why this delay in your arrival? your duty and obedience would have been better proved by a more rapid journey. how did it thus happen, sir?" ivan explained that the delay arose from a violent storm, which had obliged him to take shelter under the tent of a gipsy; but he did not choose to hazard a relation of the rest of his adventures. the baron's brow lowered as he resumed-- "and is this, sir, the bent of your disposition to herd with outcasts, and the vilest of the earth? a race i detest and abhor; and strong enough are my reasons. rather would i have bared my head to the fiercest storm the heavens ever sent forth, than to have been beholden to such wretches for a dry crust, or the covering of their miserable tents." "the people you speak of, sir," answered ivan, "i found as kind and hospitable in their humble way, as any of a higher rank; and i received much attention from them." the baron here rose from his seat, and took several turns across the apartment; then suddenly addressing himself to ivan, exclaimed-- "talk not to me of receiving kindness at the hands of such ignominious beings as those cursed gipsies. i loathe their very name! is this the return you render me, degenerate youth, for the care and attention i have lavished on your infancy and education? though how could i have expected ought else? yet i thought you possessed more proper pride than to have thus demeaned yourself. learn, however, henceforth to pay more respect to my honour and dignity, though you may be careless of your own; and remember, the name you bear must not, and shall not, be disgraced by associating with the base and worthless." ivan remained mute during this tirade, for he saw that the baron required an object to vent his spleen upon, and he willingly offered his own shoulders, to screen some victim less able to bear it. the haughty noble had thus worked himself into a state of passionate excitement, as undignified as it was causeless, and continued pacing the floor with hasty steps, while the young man stood silently by, waiting its result, knowing that his withdrawal from the scene would but increase the baron's anger. after the lapse of a few minutes, this fit of rage seemed to have subsided, as turning towards ivan, he said-- "young man, let me never hear again of so discreditable an occurrence. and now listen to the reasons which induced me to recall you. i have been appointed by our gracious emperor to high command in his armies destined for foreign service; and i intend that you shall accompany me to learn the art of war by practical experience, as you have hitherto done in theory. before you, now opens a path which will lead you to honour and renown; and it rests with yourself to enter it or not. if you follow it, and i find you worthy, it then will be my care to advance you rapidly. but mark me! i demand from you implicit obedience; that rendered, rank and fortune shall be yours--if not, beware!" ivan's heart beat high at this information, though conveyed in harsh and uncourteous words; but he ardently sought to enter at once into the exciting scenes of active life, and his eye brightened as he expressed his readiness to comply with the baron's wishes, and thanked him for the solicitude he professed for his welfare. "my intention," continued the baron, "is, that you should visit moscow in a few days, to procure your military equipments, and to mix somewhat in society; for though, i myself detest its ceremonies and trivialities, i wish you to gain the advantages its lessons afford, ere you enter into the more active and stirring scenes of life. you may now retire to rest after your journey, and to-morrow, i will impart my other projects." his listener, having expressed the gratitude he really felt at the prospects held out to him, gladly retired from the presence of his capricious father. the above conversation, so characteristic of the baron's usual deportment towards his son, was little calculated to win either his respect or his love: indeed, his conduct altogether seemed inexplicable; for while he had spared neither care, nor expense in his education, he had evidently no affection for him; and had on every occasion tried his utmost, to imbue him with his own fierce and savage disposition: in the latter, however, he had signally failed, through an agency he little suspected. the young man, meanwhile, profited by the great advantages offered by a good education, and grew up endued with extraordinary firmness and courage. ivan had retired to his chamber for the night, after endeavouring in vain to obtain some communication with the lady before alluded to, as a mysterious inmate of the chateau; when, as he was reclining in a chair, and gazing through the window on the dark groves which surrounded the building, he was startled by a knock at his door. hastening to open it, a person presented himself, of unusual and remarkable appearance. he was one of those extraordinary productions of nature, possessing a figure of just proportions, though in stature he was scarcely three feet high. his dress was arranged with extreme neatness and care, but of a fantastic cut; and the little man seemed to delight in the most gaudy colours. his feathered hat was placed with a rakish air on one side of his head, from which flowed a profusion of curling locks. his whiskers were also curled with the greatest care, while his long thin moustaches rose fiercely upward, in imitation of heroes of larger size. it was difficult to define the expression of his diminutive, but very regular features, which would have been considered handsome in a larger mould. age had spared him not, for already wrinkles furrowed his cheeks, which were of a shallow, parchment-like hue. his small grey eyes still bright and twinkling, expressed talent, and cunning; there was a restlessness too in his look and manner--each movement he made being quick, but uncertain. he would first cast a hurried glance at the person he was speaking to; next on the ground, then suddenly over his shoulder, as if he expected an attack from behind; and presently he would spin his little body round on one leg, ere he recommenced the subject he had abruptly discontinued. when he spoke, the tone of his voice was so shrill and loud, that those who heard it, could scarcely believe that the sound proceeded from so diminutive a creature. as this lilliputian-like figure entered the room, he opened his arms to their full extent to embrace ivan, who kindly stooped to the requisite level to meet him, for otherwise the little personage, who seemed unconscious of his own size, would have been unable to clasp more than one of his friend's knees. "my friend, my dear boy!" exclaimed the dwarf, "my heart beats with pleasure to see you back again. you are grown, ivan, since i saw you last, for we could then walk arm in arm; and now, i doubt if we could do so with perfect ease. i have been longing to have you here again, for i knew not what to do without you. i could neither ride, hunt, or shoot with any satisfaction during your absence; but now we will recommence our former amusements." "i am truly glad to see you, my worthy friend ladislau," answered ivan, "and to find you as vivacious and active as ever; but there is one i would inquire after; my kind protectress--my most beloved friend--tell me, ladislau, how is she? of no one else have i been able to learn, nor as you well know, dared i to seek the information, my heart yearned after, though my thoughts have been filled with sad forebodings." "my young friend," replied ladislau, "she is well, and is anxiously waiting to see you; but the mighty man, the great baron, has been treating her more severely than ever, and will not allow her to proceed beyond the walls of the garden. one of these days his cruelty will meet with its due reward!" "alas!" said ivan, "that i should not have the power to rescue that angelic being from his tyranny! she herself forbids me to interfere. tell me, my dear ladislau, when shall i find an opportunity of seeing her?" "i cannot now say," answered the dwarf. "i will, however, contrive the matter for you, whilst the baron is from home, and the meeting will contribute greatly to the lady's cure. ha! ha! ha! i am laughing at the idea that those, whom the mighty tyrant despises, can so outwit him; aye, and revenge themselves too, in a way he little dreams of. the day will come, when he shall learn that the being he has kept to laugh and jeer at, has a soul with passions strong as his own, and who has known how to revenge himself for all the injuries and insults heaped on him for so many years. but away with such thoughts: now that you are returned, ivan! pleasure must be our sole study, and i owe you my utmost services, for you were ever kind and attentive, while others scorned me, although they laughed at what they termed my antic tricks. i am grateful, ivan, and i will prove it; for though i can be a bitter and implacable hater, i can also be a firm and true friend." "in your love, i have always trusted, my good ladislau, though what i may have done is not worthy of mention; and you amply repay me by your services, and constant readiness to follow my wishes." "well, well, we will not discuss that matter now;" said ladislau, "but tell me, ivan, how came it, that you did not arrive yesterday? i was looking out for you the whole day!" ivan gave him an account of his adventure, in rescuing the gipsy maid azila, and of his visit to the tents of her tribe, to which the dwarf listened attentively. "you acted rightly," said he, as ivan concluded; "and you may some future day be richly rewarded. is she not beautiful, and endowed with talent, and far superior to the life she leads?" "if you allude to azila," replied ivan, "she is both; but how happens it, that you are acquainted with these gipsies?" "ha! ha! ha!" chuckled the dwarf, "that's a long story, my dear boy, and i cannot tell it you now, though i may some day. you have much to learn--many deep secrets--of which my bosom is the depositary; ha! ha! those who despise me, little know the power i possess! there is one, who would give half he is worth, to know a secret which is safely locked up in my breast, and he would not scruple to tear it open, if he knew that it was there! ha! ha! ha!" and the dwarf laughed shrilly, as he triumphed in this consciousness of his own power, and of the revenge he was taking on those by whom he considered himself injured. "now to you, ivan," he continued, "who indulge in no idle curiosity, and treat me so kindly, i will some day, when the fit moment arrives, disclose the treasured secret." "you are one of the first of the few persons i remember ever since my childhood," answered ivan, "and i act towards you as i feel--with sincere regard. but tell me, ladislau, what is there remarkable, or unusual, with respect to the gipsy's daughter, besides her beauty, which i can judge of, and her talents which i suppose do not extend beyond her sweet singing, and a clever tact in turning her pretended knowledge of palmistry to account." "ah, you little see into her character, if you imagine that she practises any of the vulgar deceits of her tribe," answered the dwarf. "she is above every act of that kind. her heart is with her people, and she delights in their wild life; yet she might, if it so pleased her, dwell in cities, and enjoy all the luxuries others value so highly. her education has not been neglected, while her talents are of the highest order, her judgment superior, and her virtue unquestionable; these high endowments she employs for her noble ends. she might have been far different from what she is--enjoying rank, riches and power; but then too probably, alas! she might have been proud, vicious and ignorant. i love her much, but would not have her different to what she is, though on some future day, it may be said that i have injured her; but i know better. i am saying, perhaps, more than is prudent; i can, however, trust you, ivan, and i beseech you, utter not a syllable of what you have heard, as you love me." "your confidence shall not be abused," answered ivan. "fare thee well, fare thee well! i must now away, my young friend;" quickly cried the little man, as whisking round on one foot, waving his hand, and singing his adieus, he skipped out of the room. as long back as ivan could recollect, he had always been on terms of perfect friendship with the dwarf ladislau; but never since his earliest infancy had he observed the slightest alteration in his appearance. at that early age, he used to romp and play with him; and as he grew older and stronger, with a consideration which few boys would have possessed, he never exerted his power and strength to his annoyance, so that the diminutive creature cherished a feeling of attachment for him, stronger than for any other human being; while ivan, having but few to expend his affections upon, returned his regard with equal sincerity. it is still the custom in many of the wealthy and noble families, both of russia and poland, to retain in their establishments, one of the race of dwarfs, to amuse their children and dependants, and as a butt for their own wit. as in former days, a jester, a fool, or a dwarf was considered a necessary appendage to the household of every noble throughout europe, though that custom is now fortunately banished to the less civilised countries of the eastern part of the continent, where education has made but slow advances. as soon as the dwarf had retired, ivan threw himself on his couch; but it was long, ere the repose he sought, drew a veil over his confused and agitated thoughts. volume , chapter vii. ivan had obtained but few and brief opportunities of meeting the lady who resided at the chateau, and whose history was so totally unknown to the world. the baron constantly required his attendance, and narrowly watched her actions. some days had elapsed since ivan's arrival, during which time he had invariably accompanied the baron in his hunting expeditions, the latter having determined to clear his forests of the wolves which infested them. on the next of these expeditions, he determined to find some expedient for absenting himself, so as to be able to obtain the long-sought interview with his mysterious friend. accordingly, whilst the followers were beating about for the lurking plunderers, and the woods echoed with their loud shouts, he feigned an excuse, and galloped back to the chateau, trusting that his brief absence would be overlooked. in the mean time, the dwarf, who had not been summoned to the chase by his lord, had willingly remained at home, and prepared every means to facilitate the meeting. the young man, with anxious haste, repaired to the appointed spot, where, beneath a bower covered with luxuriant dark foliage, and shaded by a group of venerable trees, he beheld the loved object of his search. the lady had scarcely reached the meridian of life, still retaining every feature of matronly beauty. her figure was tall; its every movement graceful; her face cast in the true grecian mould, with a pure and translucent complexion; the long dark silken eyelash shading a clear grey eye, and giving a subdued softness of expression to her countenance. a casual observer on viewing the two persons, side by side, would have discovered a striking resemblance between them. her watchful ear caught the sound of his footstep, and rising, she rushed forward to meet him, folding him in a momentary embrace, as he endeavoured reverently to kiss her hand. a convulsive sob impeded her utterance as she attempted to speak; but her fast-falling tears, which bedewed his neck, expressed the fulness of her love. that agitating moment over, her composure returned; and retiring to a seat, ivan placed himself by her side, his hand being fondly locked in hers. "loved one," she said, "is it thus alone we can meet, by stealth, and but for a brief space, after so long an absence, and when, too, you may be torn from me for ever? oh, ivan! much have i suffered for your sake, and gladly would i suffer more; yet a woman's weakness overpowers me, when i think of the dangers you may be exposed to. he has told me that you are about to accompany him on a distant military expedition wherein you may gain honour and renown, such as i know your noble heart will rejoice in; but dreadful forebodings haunt my mind, for i feel it will be full of peril; and i cannot trust him. i seek to discover the plans he is meditating for you, but they are beyond my comprehension. whether affection, or any other motive influences him, i know not; yet though he promises to advance you rapidly, i doubt the sincerity of his words. but oh! ivan, i am powerless, and commit you to the charge of the god of your fathers." "for your sake," exclaimed the young man, "i would resign all my fond aspirations, and would gladly remain to protect you; but, alas! as a slave i must obey the baron's will, or seek my own fortune in the world without his aid." "well do i know your love, my brave youth," replied the lady, "which would hazard all for my welfare; but that i ask not. no! go where glory and fame await you, and care not for me, for i feel that my course of life is well nigh run, and that the day of my freedom is at hand. much more of anguish than you, ivan, can possibly know, has my bosom borne; but the hour is not yet come when i may recount to you the tale of my woes." "to what secret woes do your words allude?" exclaimed ivan, in agitation. "oh, my more than mother! my protectress! my guardian angel! am i then incapable of protecting you, or at least of comforting you? oh despise me not by concealing your sufferings from me!" "alas! your interference," said the lady, despondingly, "would be of little avail; it might bring ruin on yourself, without improving my lot. no, no, loved one! i would not blight your happiness with my sorrow. you are on the eve of visiting moscow; when there, mix in the world; seek all the enjoyment it can afford, though i fear me there is but little to be found. yet i too was once blest with perfect happiness. you will return here, i learn, before you depart for the army, when i will relate all; till then, may your young heart be unseared by grief." "oh! disclose your griefs to me now, dearest lady. let me endeavour to console them; and let my devotion in your service prove my love. surely the baron, though severe and unjust at times to me, cannot--dare not, be so barbarous as to injure one so lovely and gentle as yourself." "i may not at present reveal to you my sad history," replied the lady; "prudence demands that the veil should not yet be withdrawn. you know not what the baron is. time will display his nature." the lady and the youth were still indulging in their melancholy, yet interesting conversation, when they were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of ladislau, looking like some woodland sprite, as, with alarm on his countenance, he rushed up to them through the mass of the shrubbery. "hist! hist!" he cried, but in a suppressed voice; "fly, ivan, fly! off with you--begone! this is no place for you! madam, pardon my intrusion. fly, ivan, fly! the baron has returned; this moment i heard the tramp of his horse's hoofs in the court-yard, and his voice raised in anger; so i hastened to warn you. he stormed and raged as usual. yes, his high mightiness was storming like a tornado." the dwarf laughed in a shrill tone, and added, "he will undoubtedly come this way; and it would not calm his anger to find his son here instead of accompanying him in the chase of animals, less savage than himself. so fly, my friend, fly from hence; tarry not another moment. and i would recommend you too, madam, to avoid him at present, if you wish not to bear the brunt of his fury, which has been excited by ivan's absence." ivan respectfully raised the lady's hand to his lips, and was bidding her farewell, when the dwarf exclaimed, "haste, haste, or you will be discovered--see, here he comes;" and at that instant, the baron was seen at a short distance, walking rapidly towards them. ivan quickly retreated by an opposite path, fortunately unperceived by his father, while the baron advanced towards the lady and dwarf, with a dark frown on his brow. "so, ho, madam," he cried; "is it thus you abide by my injunctions not to move beyond your apartment? be pleased forthwith to retire to your chamber, until i repair thither; i shall know how to correct this disobedience to my commands. make no answer! go, madam, at once!" the lady spoke not, though her lip trembled with emotion, and there was a flush on her brow, as she turned to obey the baron's command, and walked calmly towards the chateau. "and you, imp! what business of state brought you to the lady?" said the baron, turning to the dwarf. "doubtless, you have been laying some mischievous plans together. have you lately seen ivan, sir manikin?" "yes, most noble and potent seigneur," answered ladislau; "i met him some time since, walking in solitary and meditative mood. i ventured not to interrupt the current of his thoughts. can i be the bearer of any of your most gracious orders to him?" "yes, go find him, and say i desire his attendance," said the baron. "no, stay--i myself will seek him. in which direction went he, do you say?" "in yonder avenue," replied the dwarf, pointing to an opposite spot to the one he believed the youth was to be found in. as the baron walked quickly forward, he muttered to himself, "can it be that she, whose stubborn soul would never bend to my will, should be captivated by this youth! by heavens! if i so find it, i will tear her limb from limb, and let the boy feast his eyes on the spectacle. had the idea occurred to me before, he never should have returned here. he is capable of any deed; there is a bold, unruly spirit within him, which i must curb with a tight rein, or he will break loose even from me. he to be my rival, forsooth! here comes the audacious youth. by heavens! he has a right noble air, which may well win any woman's love. i would destroy him at once, to prevent any further mischief; but then i lose the cherished object for which i nurtured him--no, no, that were worse than folly. he shall live to become the fierce soldier i would make him, and when he gains more of the spirit of the tiger, which he now somewhat lacks, i shall be content. he comes of a race, whose blood is strongly imbued with it, and in his it must exist also." by the time the baron had arrived at the conclusion of this soliloquy, which vaguely hinted at his sinister schemes, his anger had been tempered, partly by the ideas of future triumph it awakened, partly by the cool perfumed breeze, which played within the shady walk. he had been unsuccessful that morning in the chase, which had raised his choler; and when he missed ivan from his side, and ascertained on inquiry, that he had been seen riding in the direction of the chateau, his rage was greatly increased. on his return, he learned that his son had proceeded into the grounds, whither the lady had shortly before also been observed to go. "i perceive, sir," he said on confronting his son, "that you prefer luxurious ease in shady bowers, to the hardy and noble exercise of hunting, in disobedience moreover to my wishes; but let me tell you, young man, such is but a bad promise of your future conduct in a military career; and you need not expect my countenance or support, during the continuance of such frivolities, and opposition to my will. i expect henceforth to find you foremost in danger, and ever prompt to endure hardships without murmur. thus it was that i fought my way up the ladder of fame, and thus must you follow, if you desire advancement, and value a high name." "i trust, sir, you will never find me remiss in my military duties," answered ivan. "i have found you already deficient in its most essential branch;" angrily rejoined the baron, then assuming a calmer tone, he added "you had some motive, and not a trifling one, which induced you to act contrary to my will this day; ah, you start! beware, young man, should my suspicions prove correct, your fate is sealed! again, i say, beware! my nature is such as will not be trifled with; prepare for your departure to-morrow for moscow; that is a favour i grant you; so answer me not; you now know my will." accustomed as he was to the authoritative tone of one who, in his mildest mood, never brooked a reply, ivan's lips moved with emotion, yet they uttered no sound, as the baron turned away, and walked towards the mansion. the dark hints which his father had let fall fixed ivan to the spot in deep meditation; yet he could not settle in his mind to what they could allude, dismissing at once, as too preposterous, the real cause. finally he came to the resolution of implicitly following his orders, though he would fain have tarried a few days longer in the chateau, to hold further intercourse with his sorrowful protectress. then retiring to his chamber, to make the requisite preparations, he was soon joined by the dwarf. as soon as he was informed of his friend's banishment, tears fell from the little man's eyes. "oh, ivan," he exclaimed, "my friend, my brother, my son--for you are each and all to me--i have experienced many cruel trials; but to part with you is severer than all combined. we may never meet again, for i fear the baron will not allow you to return here; and i am growing so weary of this cruel world, that i expect not to remain much longer an inhabitant of it. ivan, my dear boy, forget not ladislau, for be assured his first and last daily thought will be of you." ivan succeeded in soothing his little friend's grief, by sincere assurances of his remembrance. he then requested him to take his earnest farewell to the lady, as he could not hope to see her again before his departure, promising that, at every risk, he would return ere he joined the army, while during the interval, he would regularly inform ladislau of his proceedings. after quitting his son in the grounds which encompassed the mansion, the baron repaired forthwith to the chamber of the lady, who received him with a proud and dignified air, before which even he for a moment paused abashed. "your time, madam, i have discovered, is not always passed in the dismal solitude of which you so repeatedly complain. hear me! you would seduce the affections of my son! ha. madam, is it so? you turn pale and tremble! this moment i parted from the youth; and as i taxed him with my suspicions, his look of conscious guilt revealed the truth. he had not a word to urge in his own defence. do you answer for him? am i not correct? speak, woman!" the lady stood for a while in mute astonishment at the accusations so suddenly and violently brought against her. at length she uttered, in a voice, choking with emotion: "be heaven my witness that i speak the truth, when i declare that i am guiltless of the crime you charge me with." "deceitful woman, thou liest!" cried the baron, giving vent to a burst of uncontrollable anger; he gnashed his teeth, while his eyes rolled wildly; he lifted his arm, and struck the defenceless female. she uttered no cry; but every drop of blood quitted her cheek, and she would have fallen to the floor, had not the wall supported her. rivetting her eye on her oppressor, and mustering all her energy, she proudly confronted him in scorn and contempt, branding him with the epithet of coward. the ruffian, in his turn, trembled, and quailed before the superior might--the majesty of a lovely woman, conscious of her unsullied virtue. he felt himself to be the despicable being she termed him; his honour had been for ever disgraced by this foul indelible stain. he felt that his name was for ever blotted from the rolls of chivalry; that every slave who crawled in chains on his land would be deemed more worthy to touch a lady's hand than he. the haughty lord answered not: his tongue was tied--he was conquered. without even daring to meet her glance of scorn, he turned away, and quitted the apartment. when left in solitude, the lady sunk on a couch, and pressed her brow within her hands. "for what fate am i reserved?" she cried. "to perish by the hand of this dastard tyrant! no more to revisit my own sunny hills and smiling vales. yet, for the sake of that loved one, i can and will bear all. could i but feel assured of his happiness, i would yield to death contentedly. there is, however, one duty more due to him--then welcome death!" volume , chapter viii. ivan was fully equipped for his journey to moscow, in pursuance of his father's orders, when he received a summons to attend him. "i have desired your presence," said the baron, as he entered, "to communicate my last orders. i will allow you an ample sum for your expenses, and a sojourn of six weeks in moscow. dedicate that period to amusement; at its expiration you will be attached to my staff; meanwhile have your uniforms prepared. you may now depart." the young man withdrew, his parting salutation being scarcely noticed. he was met in the court-yard by his friend the dwarf, who shed tears as ivan mounted his horse; while he himself felt sad in parting from one of the few friends he possessed in the world. he took a last look at the apartment occupied by the lady so deeply beloved by him. all was closed and mournful there. then spurring his horse, he rode rapidly from the chateau. a lively and bustling scene met his view as he entered moscow. it was a day dedicated to one of the numerous saints in the calendar of the greek church, and a holiday; so that all the world was abroad, taking recreation during their brief but beautiful spring. the sumptuous equipages of the nobles were dashing by, with their four spirited horses, harnessed in long traces, and guided by a tiny postillion, while a portly, liveried coachman was seated more for state than service, on the richly ornamented coach-box. officers, in various uniforms, and followed by wild and fierce-looking calmuc tartars, galloped in every direction. countless were the gay vehicles in motion; conspicuous amongst these, was the light-formed drosky, drawn by a pair of horses, the animal in the shafts advancing at a finely paced trot, while his companion, now prancing and curvetting, now sidling in graceful bounds, attracted the spectators' admiring gaze. costly were the dresses, and glittering the stars with which the proud nobles were arrayed, as they rode or drove past in rapid succession, offering a marked contrast to the humble and bearded citizens assembled on the occasion. every human being, whatever his garb or condition, seemed happy; and the young visitor unconsciously caught the same feeling. having given his friend thaddeus notice of his intended coming, he was not surprised, though much pleased, to be welcomed by him on dismounting at his hotel. "most grave hermit," exclaimed his friend, "happy am i to find that you have been enticed away from your contemplations amid groves and lakes, and i trust soon to initiate your philosophy in the mysteries of a city existence." "thanks, my good thaddeus, i have determined upon seeing what you term the world and its amusements, and resign myself entirely to your sage guidance." it is unnecessary to follow the two friends through all the scenes of gaiety, into which they plunged with the ardour of youth; it is sufficient to say, that ivan, in spite of his retiring disposition, soon found himself much sought after, among the highest circles of rank and tone in moscow, formed as he was both in person, and mind to adorn society. he could not but feel gratified by the attentions he received, and amused by the various scenes of gaiety in which he moved; so that sombre reflections had no opportunity to creep in, and mar his pleasure. many days had thus flown quickly by, without a single interruption to their light and joyous course; even the adventure with the gipsies, on their journey from st. petersburg, was forgotten; when one evening, at an entertainment given by the prince galitzin, they were startled on hearing announced the name of the count erintoff. shortly after, they saw him advancing with an acquaintance of theirs, in the direction where they were standing, apparently without his recognising them, and he would have passed by, had not ivan's eye been fixed sternly upon him. a sudden start accompanied by a frown marked the recognition, when his companion turning round, and observing the two young men, stopped to present him to them. with a bland smile he advanced, and politely saluting them, began, without hesitation, a light and diverting conversation on the common topics of the day. his address was so unembarrassed, and his manner so cordial towards them, that they became doubtful whether he actually remembered them as his former opponents; a slight incident, however, took place later in the evening, which made them again feel certain, that he knew them. ivan had engaged, as a partner in the dance, a beautiful girl, to whom the count had been paying marked attention; and he was standing near to her, when ivan advanced to claim her hand, which she offered with a smile. the eyes of the count turned upon him with a peculiarly dark and ominous expression, indicating his feelings of animosity more fully and directly than any words, that he could venture to utter in such an assembly; ere ivan had time to scrutinise that glance, the count's features had resumed their wonted bland expression; and he had turned with some witty repartee to the nearest lady. "no matter," thought ivan, "if he does recognise me, i may yet laugh at, and despise his vengeance." on quitting the palace with thaddeus, they fancied that their steps were dogged by some one, who appeared to be watching the course they took; but whoever it might be, he kept at so wary a distance, that they could not devise a plausible excuse for addressing him; and ere they had reached their hotel, the individual had disappeared. the following day was also a festival of the church, and again were the promenades and public drives swarming with old and young; the gay noble, and sober tradesman. thaddeus engaged ivan to accompany him in his drosky, to the favourite promenade of the citizens, called "l'allee des peuples," which is without the city barrier; and were the shopkeepers and inferior classes of society assemble to enjoy their favourite pastimes. on their way they observed in the distance the state prisons, where the unfortunate exiles are confined, previously to their departure for siberia; collected together from all parts of the empire, in gloomy despondency, they there await the day, which always falls on monday, when it shall be their turn to set forth in a troop on their toilsome and dreary journey. "ah," thought ivan, as he gazed on the long, low, but strongly guarded walls, "how many an innocent victim has there parted from all the sweet, and fond ties of life, to march bare-footed, and in chains over hundreds of long leagues, weak and bleeding; his companions dying by his side, day after day, as lying down to rest, they find an everlasting repose, happier than the survivors left to eke out, with hopeless toil, a miserable existence, in an inhospitable clime." it must, however be observed, that though the fate of most of the exiles is forlorn and miserable in the extreme; others of higher rank, and banished for slight political offences, are allowed comparative freedom, on their arrival at their place of destination. many reside in cities with their families, surrounded with most of the luxuries of europe, though under the surveillance of the police. yet what can compensate for a banishment from their native land without the remotest hope or power of returning thither? the promenade of the people of which we have spoken, is a wide tract, ornamented with noble trees, and furnished with all the means necessary to promote the national amusements of the russians. thither had resorted the easily pleased citizens to amuse themselves, to the utmost, after their busy occupations. surrounded by their families and friends, seated on the turf, they were enjoying their tea, which was served out of large urns, placed before them on the ground; the joke and the refreshments passing merrily round. here, a large concourse of idlers formed a circle round a party of mountebanks and jugglers; each feat of dexterity receiving loud applause: there, a troop of gipsy girls gained equal admiration, as, in the mazy figures of the dance, they exhibited their picturesque and graceful movements. it mostly happens that those of a higher station do not deign to become spectators of these scenes, and restrict themselves to their own promenades; yet, there were a few whose curiosity, like of that our two friends, had led them to this spot. thaddeus was conversing with an acquaintance whom he accidentally met, while ivan, standing a few paces from them, observed the approach of a band of dancing girls, and, among them, he recognised a face he could not easily forget, though the person was evidently not taking a part in the exhibition. he could not be deceived in azila, the gipsy maiden. she passed close to him, and a slight momentary blush tinged her cheek, as beckoning to him, she separated from her companions. he followed her, until she stopped beneath a thick cluster of trees, which screened them from observation. "i fear you will think me bold, and forward in thus addressing you," said she, "but i have urgent reasons for so doing. this day, i purposed seeking you out in another part of the city; when, having joined the band of dancers, with a view of meeting those whom i sought, without suspicion, i saw you enter the gardens. think not," and she blushed deeply; "that i would exhibit myself to the gaze of the miserable slaves assembled to witness the performances of my companions. you will shortly understand more clearly the reasons which induce me to appear among them; till then, judge not ill of me--but to my errand, for time presses. danger threatens under many shapes; and one whom you know, the count erintoff, has sworn to revenge himself on you, for your generous defence of me. he seeks your life, and that of your friend; and though he is too great a coward to hazard his own, he may employ others to do his bidding. be therefore constantly on your guard, yet without fear, for there are those who feel an earnest interest in your welfare, who will watch over your safety, and have marked each movement of yours, since you arrived in moscow." "i thank you, fair one, for your warning," answered ivan; "but i fear not the count, or any plans he may form against me or my friend." "you know not," hastily rejoined azila; "what means a man of his vindictive, and dastard disposition would stoop to, for the accomplishment of a vile purpose; and i entreat you to beware of him-- but i have more to say. you are destined for nobler deeds than the life you now lead affords, where you are dissipating your time and talents in pursuits totally unworthy of you. my boldness of speech may surprise you, and appear unmaidenly; but i know that i may trust you in what i am about to impart. a great revolution in the affairs of this country is about to take place; yet you--so fit to lead your countrymen, and to aid in their regeneration, are ignorant of the project. sure i am, that were you once summoned to join in the noble work, you would stake all on the glorious enterprise. one, on whom you may rely, will shortly communicate with you on the subject; oh! do not hesitate to follow his advice. the day of the regeneration of russia is at hand! thus much-- but more i may not disclose; but think deeply on my words;--see, some one draws near, farewell for a time!" ere ivan had time to make any answer to this extraordinary communication, the speaker had escaped, and following her with his eye, he traced her, until she rejoined the party of dancing girls, who shortly moved away from the spot. on returning in search of thaddeus, he pondered on what he had just heard. "extraordinary being that she is," thought he; "what secret motive can so deeply interest her in my actions, and how can she become acquainted with plots and conspiracies of such deep import?" at first, he hesitated to mention the occurrence to his friend; but, on their return to the hotel, when he was rallied on account of his silent and meditative mood, he informed him of the warning he had received. thaddeus laughed loud, as he expressed his opinion; "truly, indeed, this is an excellent excuse which the pretty gipsy has discovered for renewing her acquaintance with you; why, ivan, i see through it all. she has fallen desperately in love with you, and would have told you so, had you given her the slightest encouragement, and the time been more opportune." ivan indignantly repelled the idea. "no, no!" he said, "her manner was too earnest--too respectful to bespeak any such inclination. she naturally feels gratitude for our aid in rescuing her from the power of that smiling faced ruffian, the count erintoff, and, in return, has warned us of the revenge he meditates for our interference, and which she has, by some means, discovered. with regard to the more important part of her disclosure, i confide in you with an equal trust to that she has reposed in me. i gather from her words that a plot is being laid to overthrow the whole mighty fabric of this despotic government, which now appears to stand on so immoveable a foundation." a laugh again burst from his friend, who replied, "your vivid imagination, my dear ivan, carries you beyond the limits of probability; though i sincerely wish it were so; but i rather think that the pretty messenger's sole view, was to excite your curiosity, in order to gain another interview." "time will shew, thaddeus," replied the other, "i differ entirely from you, and, until then, i will not give up the opinion i have formed of azila." immediately on quitting the public promenade of the citizens, and previously to their return to the hotel, thaddeus drove to a far distant scene. the aristocratic promenade of pedroski leads through a magnificent forest; the grounds encompassing the venerable chateau are laid out with perfect taste, and are ornamented with every variety of tree and shrub. here they were among the votaries of rank and fashion; the elite of moscow; vying with each other in the magnificence and style of their equipages. elegantly dressed ladies, reclined in their carriages, and proud seigneurs covered with decorations, and followed by their attendants, galloped by with erect and haughty mien. dashing young officers, in their brilliant uniforms, were displaying themselves and their mettled steeds to their own satisfaction--if not to that of others. whilst they were in earnest conversation, on the subject of azila's warning, a messenger arrived to summon thaddeus home, on account of the illness of his father. he accordingly departed, leaving ivan again alone. left to his own thoughts, a heavy weight oppressed his spirits, for his mind dwelt forcibly on the mysterious import of azila's words. at one moment, his calm reason warned him not to listen to the seductive arguments that might be used to induce him to join in an attempt, which would too probably lead to the utter destruction of all engaged in it; and, then again, his enthusiasm would be aroused, and he confessed the enterprise was well worthy of a severe struggle. he was alone in the hotel on the following day, when a noble of some consideration, whom he had frequently met in society, was announced. the visitor, as soon as the servant had retired, looked cautiously round the room, and approaching the door, secured it. "i would be private," he whispered, "and free from any chance of interruption, for i have a communication of deep importance to make:--are we safe from eaves-droppers?" "i believe so," answered ivan, wondering to what grave matter such cautious preliminaries would lead. "can i trust to the most inviolable secrecy in what i am about to say?" inquired the stranger guest; "but why do i ask, for i am satisfied that i may." "undoubtedly you may, sir," proudly replied ivan, "in anything not opposed to my honour." "far from it," hastily rejoined the other. "think not for a moment that i would propose aught that would reflect disgrace on your name. i pledge you my own word of honour; that all i require, in return for my disclosure, is inviolable secrecy on your part; any step farther i leave to your own judgment." "speak on," answered ivan, "whatever you may reveal, shall never pass my lips." "my confidence is fully confirmed," replied the guest, "or i should not have visited you. you were last evening in the `allee des peuples' with your friend, stanisloff; you were there accosted by a gipsy girl, whom you had previously known; she beckoned to you, and you followed her. you recollect the words she uttered--`the day of the regeneration of russia is at hand.' nay, start not, no one overheard you: she was but performing a commission for others of power and of influence--a task she gladly undertook. you have been marked by them as one fit to assist in the noble cause in which they are engaged. azila, the gipsy girl, is one of the chief means of communication with our friends in all parts of the country; she has guaranteed your honour and fidelity." "what aid can i afford to the cause of freedom?" inquired ivan, "when i am myself utterly powerless; opposed as you must know the baron galetzoff to be to any measures calculated to give liberty to the people." "we well know that the son has far different opinions to those entertained by his father; we are also well aware that the baron is a staunch upholder of despotism; but, need i ask--is it incumbent on the son to adhere to the despotic principles of his parent? no!--i feel confident that you at least, will not." the stranger, as he spoke, had intently watched ivan's countenance, and appearing to gather confidence, continued-- "that you will ultimately join us, i anticipate with satisfaction; meanwhile, however, come and hear our plans. these i dare not utter within these walls, for even they may have ears and a voice to carry the tale; but, would you know more, i will conduct you where all will be disclosed. will you accompany me?" "i must deeply consider the matter, ere i answer you; but tell me," said ivan, "where i can meet you, should i consent." "on the banks of the moskowa, beneath the walls of the kremlin, is a secluded walk, which is entered from the public gardens--you doubtless know it; there we may escape observation; our converse secure from the lurking spy. at dusk this evening--may i reckon upon your coming?" a few minutes succeeded, during which ivan appeared wrapped in thought. at length, he answered firmly-- "i will meet you at the spot and hour you name, and, though i do not engage to enter into your views, i swear that your confidence in me shall not be abused." his visitor smiled, and replied: "with you, fear has doubtless little influence; but there are some who require that motive for secrecy; and imagine not that a thought of treachery can be harboured, without drawing down instant retribution. at dusk we meet again, adieu!" ivan ushered the stranger to the door, the latter, passing out into the street, assumed the easy and careless air of the numerous loungers thronging around him. how little can the passenger through the crowded streets tell of the varied thoughts, feelings, and passions, which fill the breasts of those who encounter him! the grief and agony; despair and hatred; the avarice, love, or beneficence, the joy, or careless indifference of the wayfarers; the man whose dearest tie has been torn from him; the ruined gamester; the assassin, advancing to his work of blood, the miser to his hoards; the father to his offspring; the lover to his mistress; the samaritan, hastening to relieve the distressed; the long-absent traveller, to his home; the fop, the fool, or the wise man; every character is passed in succession each instant, unheeded and unknown. volume , chapter ix. ivan, once having resolved to follow the guidance of his new friend, looked forward with eagerness to the approach of evening; and, ere the time had arrived, throwing his cloak about him, he sauntered forth in the direction of the kremlin. this venerable pile, regarded by the inhabitants of moscow as the heart--the sacred place--the tabernacle, as it were, of their city, was anciently a fortress of the rude and fierce tartars; and indeed, at that period, the whole of the city was contained within its walls. it stands on a commanding site by the banks of the moskwa, whose waters wash its base, surrounded by high and ancient walls of a triangular form, nearly two miles in extent. its area encloses numerous cathedrals, gorgeous palaces, churches and monasteries; surmounted by towers, belfries, and steeples; displaying every variety of architecture, including the tartar, hindoo, chinese, and gothic. above all this vast pile rises the lofty tower of ivan veliki, its golden ball now reflecting the rays of the setting sun with dazzling brilliancy; the whole forming a strange mixture of barbaric splendour, blended with the stately elegance of modern times. there are no regular streets within the kremlin, the buildings being raised around several open places or squares, to which the inhabitants resort for walking or driving. the walls, which are surmounted by battlements and watch-towers, have five gates, the principal of which is the "saviour's" or "holy gate." through this awe-commanding portal no male, not even the czar and autocrat of all the russias, may pass, save with uncovered head and bended body. through this gate, ivan now proceeded bareheaded, and entered a noble esplanade, commanding one of the most interesting views of moscow, having in front the range of the palaces of the czars, with their varied and fanciful style of architecture. he paced its extent for some time, meditating on the important affairs which he was likely to be suddenly, and as he could not but admit to himself, rashly engaged in. as the shades of evening began to close around him, he left the kremlin by one of the less remarkable gates, and sought the appointed place of rendezvous. after traversing the walk several times, he began to suspect that he must have mistaken the time and place, as no one appeared; or that his new friend had been prevented from keeping the appointment by some unforeseen circumstance. he accordingly determined to return to the hotel, when suddenly, as if springing from the earth, a dark figure stood before him, so closely muffled as to baffle recognition. ivan recoiled a few paces, so unexpectedly did the figure come upon him; and, as his mind recurred to azila's warnings respecting the secret revenge of the count erintoff, the idea of treachery presented itself, and his hand clutched the pistols concealed within his breast. thus prepared, he confronted the stranger, friend or foe as he might prove to be. "why come you here?" demanded the figure, in a voice unknown to ivan's ear. "in search of him who appointed a meeting with me here," answered the young man. "know you aught of him?" "behold him before you," said the visitor of the morning, stepping forward, and speaking in a tone which the other immediately knew. "it is well," replied ivan. "your feigned voice at first deceived me. but how came you so suddenly upon me?" "all, you were taken unawares," said the other. "you then did not observe my skiff, as i guided it noiselessly under the bank, and landed when you had turned the other way while i closely watched you. it behoves all of us, in these times, who seek success in bold enterprises, to be wary in our movements. but we have no time to lose; and now to the matter on which we have met." "speak on," said ivan. "i am prepared to hear, and shall not forget my promise." "listen then," said the other. "ivan galetzoff, you are far better known than you are aware of. since you came to moscow you have been constantly followed, and your words marked. many, of whom you are totally ignorant, know you, and admire your principles; and further, have selected you as fit to engage in noble and daring deeds." "you surprise me!" exclaimed ivan, yielding to flattery, so difficult for youth to resist when administered to the very points on which he probably prides himself; "i did not deem myself of sufficient importance to have notice taken of my words and actions." "i speak but the truth respecting you," answered his companion. "say, do you not abhor despotism and tyranny? do you not cherish the love of freedom, and the happiness of your fellow-creatures?" "i both detest tyranny and love freedom," answered ivan; "but what service can my single arm afford, either to overthrow the one, or to defend the other?" "much," hastily responded the stranger. "you do not stand alone. your principles are supported by thousands of spirits, noble as your own. the sacred cause of liberty must, and will be triumphant over all her base opponents." "i fear that our chains are too securely rivetted, to be wrenched asunder," answered ivan, "and too many are interested in forging fresh links to leave us hope of freeing ourselves, even at the sacrifice of our heart's blood." "you labour under a false impression, my young friend," answered his companion; "for all classes join heart and soul in this glorious work. indeed, the despot has no greater enemies than many among the highest in the land, who feel their chains more galling than do the humble serfs; again i ask you, do you not wish success to their gallant spirits engaged in the noble attempt?" "most earnestly do i hope they may succeed," said ivan. "enough," answered the conspirator, for such he declared himself, "i need test you no more; for i place implicit confidence in you. this evening, the advocates of russian liberty hold a meeting, and, as i anticipate that ere long you will join them with heart and hand, i will introduce you to them." "lead--and i will follow," replied ivan, with enthusiasm; "my heart yearns to join any who advocate so noble a cause, and i trust i may not prove unworthy of it." "no time must then be lost; e'en now they are assembled," rejoined his companion, "their place of council is at some distance, and speak not, till i give the word, for we shall be obliged to pass the police patrols, ever watchful and vigilant." "forward then," said ivan, "and rely on my prudence." the conspirator stealthily led the way down a path to the margin of the river, where they found a small skiff, capable of containing three persons--a rower resting on his oars being already seated, who, on a signal from the former, pulled rapidly down the stream. continuing their course in silence for some time, the oarsman abruptly ceased rowing, and the little bark glided swiftly into a dark and narrow creek on the opposite bank of the river. ivan followed his guide on shore, while the boat held her course again down the narrow stream. as they advanced, lights were visible in the apartments of many handsome buildings, and ivan found himself in a respectable part of the city, though one in which many vestiges still remained of the devastating conflagration which had reduced moscow to ashes. his guide threaded in his way many lanes, and traversed wide streets, till suddenly retreating to the back of a handsome mansion, that had lately been raised from the ruins which surrounded it, he gave a low and peculiar knock at a wicket gate, opening apparently into a garden. the signal on being twice repeated, was answered by a decrepit old man, with a long beard and tattered dress, who unclosed the gate, but instantly relocked it, as the two visitors entered. "who is it," said he, "seeking to disturb the old serf kersoff at this late hour?--if any wish to buy his garden produce, let them come by daylight, and not rouse him from his bed." the guide whispered a word in the old man's ear, and he retired to his hut by the side of the gate. the light afforded by the starry heavens enabled ivan to distinguish the appearance of the place where he stood, which seemed to have been a large garden, now filled with ruins; apparently the remains of buildings of considerable extent. passing over heaps of rubbish, his guide stopped at what appeared to be a small summer house--also in a ruinous state; the same signal as before was given, and the door opening, admitted them into an apartment in total darkness. ivan for a moment hesitated to follow; the idea of some diabolical treachery--such as he had heard of too often--again rushing on his mind; yet, quickly determining to brave the worst, he prepared to go on. his guide spoke a few words to the person who had admitted them, and who yet remained concealed, and then offered his hand to ivan to conduct him onwards. "the neophyte must pass through darkness before he can reach the light," he whispered; "but fear not, it will soon burn brightly on you. ah! i feel your pulse beats calm and regular, such are the nerves we require; do not speak now." they descended a flight of steps, narrow and winding, till they were again stopped by another door, which was opened, on the like signal as before being given, without the porter being visible, and they found themselves in a small chamber, lighted by a single dim lamp suspended from the ceiling. the walls were hung with black; a chair, and a table, on which were placed a skull and cross bones, an hour glass, and writing materials, were the only furniture. his guide again spoke. "this," said he, "is the chamber of meditation; if you doubt, you may draw back. stir not from hence till i return, when i will lead you to undergo your ordeal, should you still nobly keep to your determination of engaging in our cause. i need not tell you not to fear, or to shrink from an ordeal which you will pass through with ease, though it may fright nerveless fools. i now go to prepare the friends of freedom for your coming; adieu!" saying which, the conspirator disappeared through a door opposite to the one by which they had entered, and which closed with a loud noise behind him. ivan looked round, not a door was visible; he was a prisoner, he knew not where. left to his own reflections, he half repented the step he had taken. "i like not this mummery," thought he. "how weak i have been to put such implicit trust in a man of whom i know so little. he may, after all, have deceived me; but it is now too late to retract, and if deceived, i must suffer for my folly, and will boldly carry through the adventure." he threw himself on the chair. "emblem of mortality!" he exclaimed, looking at the skull, "to this must we all come, and to a brave man, what terrors canst thou bring? death, what have we to fear in thee? why, then, should i hesitate, when thou, happen what may, must be the victor at last! thou art, at the same time, the mighty despot of all, and the only true dispenser of liberty! thou canst conquer the proudest potentates, and make all men equal--and yet i fear not thee; then, why should i fear aught else? time flies quickly; i learn this lesson, that one must not delay when work is to be done!" his eye caught sight of a sheet of paper, on which were inscribed several questions. he seized the pen, and wrote appropriate answers. he remained lost in thought. "yes," he exclaimed, "the die is cast; i will plunge boldly in, nor dream of retracting." he had just come to this conclusion, when suddenly, three dark figures stood before him enveloped in cloaks, and their features concealed by masks. "you must consent to be for a time deprived of sight," said one, "ere the true light can shine on you. are you ready to undergo your ordeal?" "i am prepared for every ceremony necessary," answered ivan; "do as you will!" one of the dark figures advanced, a handkerchief was tightly bound over his eyes, and he felt his hand grasped by some one. "follow me," said a voice, "we have a long and toilsome road to take, full of difficulties and perils, such as you dream not of finding here; but true courage and perseverance will carry you through all dangers." "lead on then," said ivan, "i am eager to undertake the journey." ivan felt that he was led from the chamber, when a sudden rush of cold air met him, almost stopping his breath. he then seemed to be climbing over rough rocks, from which he had to spring to others, following the guide's directions; then a torrent seemed to be rushing at his feet, into which he appeared every instant to be ready to fall, so slippery was the broken ground. he felt himself next led up a steep mountain, the ashes on its sides giving way under his feet as he climbed, till at length, he reached some harder ground, when, no sooner did he appear to have attained the summit, than he was as quickly obliged to descend, and to pass through some low and damp cavern. on a sudden, his guide bidding him spring forward, and dragging him at the same time, enabled him to evade an icy torrent, which broke overhead. on, on he went; but he neither hesitated nor trembled. a loud din now assailed his ears, of a strange variety of confused sounds, and in a moment he found himself near some immense furnace, into which he appeared to be about to plunge, when his guide drew him aside, as the fierce and forked flames rushed after him. again he heard a loud noise, and this time it was intelligible. he could distinguish the clashing of swords, the shrieks of the wounded, the cries of the victors. he was in the midst of some fierce combat. on every side was heard the jarring sound of weapons; he felt them whirling round his head, as his guide protected him; their sharp edges seemed to pass close to his ears, the struggling combatants swept by him in their desperate strife, but he remained unharmed. on a sudden, the silence of death reigned around. he stood alone: some one presently approached, and a deep and solemn voice thus spoke-- "ivan galetzoff! you have shewn that you can go through the lesser dangers and difficulties of life without shrinking; but have you courage to face the worst, for what you have just undergone is as nothing to what you must suffer, before we can confide in you." "i am prepared for the most terrific dangers, and fear nothing." "stay then," said the voice; "answer our questions. wherefore did you come hither?" "to meet those who are lovers of true freedom," answered ivan. "you speak well," said the voice; "are you ready to devote your talents, your fortune, and your life, to their sacred cause?" "most willingly would i do my utmost to win true liberty for russia," he answered. "are you willing to take the oaths which bind all the members of this association?" "i would be equally bound to support others, as they are to support me, but i cannot pledge myself to measures of which i know not the aim." "you speak sensibly," said the voice, "that we do not demand. inviolable secrecy and fidelity are all that is required of you, but oaths must not be taken in the dark: from henceforth, may the light of liberty shine as bright and purely as this flame." at that moment, the bandage fell from ivan's eyes, and he was almost blinded by a dazzling and brilliant flame which burned before him. on recovering his sight, he found himself standing in the midst of a circle of persons, the points of whose swords radiated towards him. "with these swords we swear to protect you! to gain true liberty for russia, or to perish in the attempt, with them in our hands!--and with these swords we swear to destroy any, who, by word or deed, shall betray the trust reposed in him!--we swear!" uttered all the persons present. "our aims are these," added the first speaker: "to curb the despotic power of the autocrat; to abolish the exclusive privileges of the nobles; to place every subject of russia on an equal footing of liberty; to liberate the serfs from the thraldom under which they groan; to have but one law in the land to govern all men." "to these we have sworn," responded the conspirators. "ivan galetzoff! are you ready to swear to do your utmost to aid in the accomplishment of these objects?" "to all this i solemnly swear!" said ivan, repeating the secret form of the oath. no sooner had he uttered these words, than the conspirators dropped the points of their swords, which they had hitherto held up at his breast, and advanced towards him with extended hands, exclaiming-- "welcome, our brother in the great work of the regeneration of russia!" "we will leave you now," said he who appeared to be the conductor of the ceremony, "till it be time to summon you to the assembly of members;" saying which, the conspirators disappeared by a number of separate doors, from the chamber, which was much larger than the one where he had been previously left, and ivan again found himself alone. the room was vaulted, and lighted by a number of lamps, shedding a bright glare on the various devices with which it was ornamented; but ivan was too much occupied and confused by the strange adventures he had gone through to examine them. he had now banished all hesitation and doubt, having once made the step from which there was no retracting, and he stood with dilated eye, compressed lip, and determination on his brow, boldly prepared to redeem, to the utmost, the pledge he had given. he had not much time left for thought, when his friend, who had conducted him to the place, entered, summoning him to follow, and led the way down a flight of rude and broken steps, through a long passage, ascending to a door, through which proceeded the sound of many voices. he presently found himself in a rude, but large and vaulted apartment, in the centre of which was placed a long table, surrounded by a number of persons, who rose at his entrance, and he was desired to take a seat by his guide, near the head of the table. as he gazed around him, he recognised, to his astonishment, the faces of several nobles whom he had met in the first circles of the society of moscow, though, with the greater number of persons present he was unacquainted. the association comprised men of rank, fortune, and influence; military officers; grave citizens, distinguished from the rest by their beards and long coats; and even some who appeared to be lowly serfs. all present wore an air of anxiety and eagerness on their countenances, conversation being carried on in an undertone: meanwhile, several others entered, and took their seats at the board. when all were seated, the president of the meeting arose, and silence ensued. he was a man long passed the prime of life, of a tall and commanding figure, whose expansive forehead, piercing eye, and firm set lips, marked one fit to command. "countrymen! fellow russians!" he cried, "the sacred cause of liberty is advancing with rapid strides, and soon may we hope to see its standard unfurled, and floating proudly in the face of our panic-struck enemies. to those who have not yet had an opportunity of hearing our ultimate ends and aims discussed, i now address myself. "we have not combined to overthrow religion, virtue, and honour, order, and wholesome government; no, my countrymen! our purpose is rather to confirm and strengthen them throughout the land. we war alone against vice and tyranny, unjust power and misrule. these shall crouch trembling before our triumphant standard. i ask you, is it right--is it just, that one man should rule millions, by the fiat of his will--that he should be the sole and undisputed master of their lives and properties? are russians worthy of the name of men, while they tamely submit to bow their necks to so despicable a yoke? who amongst us is, for a moment, safe? the noble, the citizen, or the serf, by the single word of a tyrant, may be deprived of his liberty, his property, and his life; each amongst them is liable to be torn from his home and family-- from all that is held dear and sacred, to be bound in chains, and sent to pass a life of exile amidst the dreary wilds of siberia. can we longer submit to be thus enslaved? no--justice, honour, manhood forbid it! "we have, moreover, other enemies to contend with. we must attack the privileges of those vain and dastardly nobles, who, bending their necks to the yoke of the despot, aid and abet him in his tyranny; for without them, how could his power stand? are not the rest of their countrymen equal to them in intellect, in talents, in virtue? why then should they be allowed to hold in slavish subjection, creatures, human as themselves, with the same blood and sinews, with hearts beating to the same impulses, with thoughts as free, and sentiments as noble, as their own? there are many among us here of aristocratic birth, disinterestedly refusing to avail themselves of their privileges, and animated by a spirit of the most exalted philanthropy, who have arrayed their power under the banner of freedom." the speaker paused; his eye proudly surveyed the assembly, and the countenances of all tacitly echoed his sentiments. he resumed: "my brave, my loved countrymen! pardon me for speaking of myself; but i must do so to afford you an example. i was born of the privileged class. i once held high rank, noble possessions, unbounded wealth, and, as i thought, power. i was young, and vainly fancied myself happy and free. i dared to speak the thoughts of my heart, which were bold and free, under the impression that i was too far removed from the authority of the emperor, to fear his anger. i dared to assert the right and just independence of man--to utter the word liberty. yet how had i deceived myself in my dream of impunity; for a word spoken thoughtlessly, i was deprived of my rank, stripped of my wealth, dragged from my family, and banished from my rich possessions, to the barren soils of siberia. i, who had been brought up in the most luxurious indulgence, was driven over hundreds of weary leagues, bare-footed, and in chains, exposed to the inclemency of the weather the lash of the brutal guards impelling my drooping, my exhausted steps. each time that the sharp thong became crimsoned with my blood, i swore deeply that no human power should prevent me from returning, and straining every nerve to overthrow the tyranny which could allow such atrocious barbarities to be perpetrated. i passed many years in banishment, forgotten, and unknown. at length, i escaped, to return to my native city; and here again i vow to accomplish that noble purpose, or to perish in the attempt. russians, you know my history--many here will remember my name. the same fate may await any of you, when least expected; and thus you are all equally interested in rescuing our country from so abject a thraldom. "is it not preposterous--is it not shameful, that men who, with the light of education, have by their own exertions gained wealth, must still wear the vile mark of bondage; that they cannot without their masters' will be free, and that their children must be brought up as slaves! "to liberate the serfs from their state of galling vassalage, is, in itself, a great and noble work. no sooner shall the bright folds of the standard of liberty be displayed, than thousands, tens of thousands of that now debased class, arousing from their lethargy, will flock around it, and proclaim the regeneration of russia! for this cause we are all ready to shed our blood; and again do i swear never to sheath my sword till our holy, our glorious object is accomplished." every man simultaneously animated by the same spirit, stood up, and with one accord, drawing their weapons, exclaimed together "we swear to accomplish the regeneration of russia, or to die in the attempt." the president was succeeded by several of the conspirators, who in their turn rose to address the meeting. some were fierce and fiery characters, to whom mild measures were distasteful, and who would be satisfied with nothing short of the total overthrow of the imperial family; the abrogation of all the privileges and titles of nobility; and the establishment of a republic, in which each member of the government should be elected by ballot. ivan was at first carried away by the enthusiasm, and force of eloquence displayed by some, but he soon discovered, that many were actuated by motives far different from those which they professed; some by vindictive feelings; others by the anticipation of succeeding to offices and employments, from which the present occupiers would be thrust. some, bankrupt in purse and character, hoped to reap a harvest amid the general confusion, which must ensue on a revolution, having themselves nothing to risk; but few of the whole number perhaps, were solely influenced by the exalted principles of liberty. the meeting, after numerous speeches, and discussions, at length broke up; no plan of proceedings having yet been arranged. the conspirators departed a few at a time, each man as he reached the open air, shrouding himself in his cloak, and bending his steps in various directions across the mass of ruins, so that no two persons sought the same path at the same time. as ivan was about to depart, he was accosted by the friend who had brought him to the meeting. "you have acted well, and nobly," said he; "and i trust that you may never have reason to repent, that you have engaged in this just cause. ere we go, i will explain to you the secrets of this place of meeting. this large vaulted chamber was a cellar belonging to a mansion, destroyed at the burning of the city, during the french occupation. the former inhabitants of the place have all died, or have left moscow; and no one knows of this vault, save the owner of the new house, and he is one of the principal and most active members of the association. he discovered the vault amid the ruins, and prepared it for our meetings: he himself never approaching it, except at night, and by the many secret exits, he has formed with indefatigable labour. in every avenue are trusty guards in various disguises, so that there is but little likelihood of a surprise; yet, should we by any chance be discovered, we are prepared to sell our lives dearly. i will now lead you forth; follow--but at a short distance behind me." threading several passages, they gained the open air, and passing from the garden by a different gate, to that by which they had entered, after a short walk, ivan found himself in a part of the city, with which he was acquainted; his guide then bidding him farewell, he returned to his temporary home. volume , chapter x. it has been the constant aim of the imperial court to draw within its focus the noblesse from all quarters of the empire, with a view to keep them more entirely under the eye of government, tempting them with ribbons, stars, and titles. however well the plan has succeeded with the poorer nobles and many indeed of the more powerful, attracted by the pomp and magnificence of st. petersburg, no lures have been found to decoy others equally rich and influential, who prefer the independence and freedom they enjoy in their palaces at moscow, and country-seats, to the formality and tedious etiquette of the court. the czar, therefore, naturally regards with a jealous eye, those who shun his presence,--as inimical to his rule, and none more so perhaps, than the proud and wealthy patricians of moscow, known to possess the liberal principles so subversive of despotism: men who prefer to reside with their families among the ancient retainers of their house, and to enjoy the freedom, and surpassing beauty of their native city. not so, however, the count erintoff; he kept at a distance from the court, and the eye of authority, that he might enjoy greater license for his vices and profligacy. his palace stood in the environs of the city, and was furnished with all the magnificence and luxury for which his fortune gave ample means. it was a stately mansion, and had been rebuilt after the conflagration by his father; a nobleman every way qualified to fill the high station he held; but who with culpable indulgence had not paid that attention to the education of his son, which would qualify him to be a worthy successor to himself. magnificent mirrors and pictures adorned the walls; couches and hangings from the east; objects of virtu from italy; of decoration, from france; and furniture and all the appurtenances of comfort from england, filled the rooms. the count was pacing through his spacious galleries with hasty steps, when a servant submissively approached him. "how now knave! what want you here?" said the count, angrily; without noticing the person of the intruder. "i come to bring you the information you sent me to gain," answered the man. "i have been partly successful." "ah, groff! is it you, faithful villain. i did not expect you so soon," said the noble. "what is the information you bring me? for if i recollect right, you had a variety of commissions to perform." "why, what i should think would please you most--about the gipsy girl, who before slipped through our fingers," answered the man. "what of her, knave?" said the count, in an angry tone at his servant's freedom of speech; but the man seemed unmoved as he answered, "she is now in moscow, i passed her just now on my way here, and i have formed a plan by which i think i can induce her to come here." "tell me not of your plans, knave!" answered the count. "i require no suggestion but must have execution, and you shall then have the reward i promised. but say, when do you expect to succeed with this most notable plan you talk of? the girl is not to be entrapped so easily as you anticipate." "by to-morrow at furthest, or perchance this very day, if my messenger can find the girl, though he may have some difficulty in falling in with her; but you may have changed your mind, sir. is it still your pleasure that she come here?" "yes, knave; and mark me, if you fail and disappoint me, you shall suffer!" said the count. "now, tell me quickly, how you hope to succeed; let me hear all you have to say." "in the first place, fortune has favoured us, sir," said groff, "for while i was out concerning the affairs you sent me on, it appears that two gipsy boys were singing and playing in front of the palace, to the idle porters and other servants, when a drosky, driven furiously by, knocked one of them down, and left him senseless on the ground. i know not how it was, but kruntz and some of the other men, were seized with a fit of humanity, and brought the wounded boy within the palace, and when his companion was crying over him, some of them bathed his bruises and hurts. i arrived at that time, having just encountered the damsel of the same race where i told you. a thought struck me, that i might turn the accident to some account. i found that the boys did not know in whose palace they were; and after some talk with the one who was not wounded, i contrived to learn that he belonged to the same tribe as the girl you are in search of. i accordingly hinted to the boy, where she was likely to be found, and persuaded him to set off, in order to bring her to his brother, as she was better able to cure him than any doctor. i told him, therefore, that this was the palace of the prince raziminski, into which she will not fear to enter; and having directed him to mark it well so as not to forget it, sent him off to bring her here immediately. have i done well, sir?" "i have no great expectation, that your ill-contrived scheme will succeed," answered the count, stiffly; "i know she will not come! what else have you to communicate?" "somewhat with respect to the son of the baron galetzoff. i think sir, you may soon have your revenge on him." "ah!" exclaimed the count, looking deeply interested, "what of that youth? could i wreak my vengeance on him, and win the girl into the bargain, i should be contented. what have you to say of him?" "why, sir," replied groff, "i have discovered where he resides, and have dogged his steps constantly; once or twice i have been nearly discovered; but have hitherto eluded him successfully. i know all his haunts, his habits and his movements; and i find that he constantly passes a spot where a dagger might reach his bosom, without fear of the deed being discovered. you have thus a full opportunity of satisfying your vengeance." "what, villain!" exclaimed the noble, indignantly, "do you think that i have become a common assassin, to strike my enemy in the dark? i would have revenge; but not such as your dull brain can invent. in what part of the city, do you say you have seen him?" groff mentioned a part of moscow, near the spot where the conspirators held their meetings. "and at what time did he usually pass by?" "soon after sun-set," answered groff. "i marked him on his way from the hotel; but each time i lost sight of him, soon after he passed that spot: i have then waited for hours till his return; but before long, i hope to discover where he vanishes to, and he will be clever if he again escapes me. i have my suspicions, that he is not the only person who visits that part of the city by stealth; for i confess that i have twice made a mistake, and followed different people, when i was in search of him." "that must be looked to," said the count, "we may find that something is going forward worth discovering; beware, that you do not make a mistake. for myself, i would not imbue my hands with blood. it would be but slight satisfaction to feel my dagger entering his bosom, and his warm life-blood streaming from the wound: i leave those feelings to the passionate, fiery-blooded italians. yet, mark me groff! i hate the young galetzoff, and it would be enough for me to know that he had ceased to live. there are many dark lanes in moscow, and the istvostchiks are great villains, and often commit murder with no better object, than for the sake of the paltry sums a person may have about him; you understand me. i loathe the very sight of that youth. he faces me with the coolest indifference, as if he had not injured me to the utmost; and yet there is something in his eye, when he meets my gaze, by which i have strong suspicions that he knows me. i cannot rest till i am revenged on him. you will probably win one reward, and here take half for what you have already done, in earnest of the future." the count then tendered a purse which groff weighed in his hand, as if to consider whether the bribe was high enough for the deed. "i will do my best to please you, sir," he answered. "enough, i need now say no more then; ten times the sum you hold in your hand shall be yours, if, by chance, i hear of that youth's death. the police are not over vigilant in those matters, and i think the baron will take no great pains to discover the author of his son's death, for he seems not to have much love for him. now leave me, and think well on what i have said. should the gipsy girl fall into your snare, let me immediately know of her arrival; but take care that she does not see your face--that alone is enough to frighten her, and she would remember it. see that the wounded boy is well tended, that he may learn to speak well of the owner of the mansion; and let the girl remain some time with him, if possible, ere i go to her." as soon as groff had disappeared, the count continued his walk through the corridor. "fortune seems to favour me," he soliloquised; "as to young galetzoff, i need trouble myself no more;--his fate is sealed! i saw that in the look that villain groff gave, as i promised him the gold! his eyes glistened as he seemed eager to clutch it. he is a faithful ruffian, and well earns his reward. such slaves as he, would sell their very souls for gold; and i, some would say, would sell mine; but oh! for what?--not for gold; no;--for revenge--for love--for power-- a worthy exchange too! what would life be worth, if one could not enjoy all three? "that gipsy maiden has enchained me. i scarce know why, but, though lowly her lot, there is a fascination about her which i cannot withstand. i must win her at all hazards in some way. either gold or flattery must gain her; she must be more than woman if she holds out against the two combined. and if she does, with that proud and haughty air she possesses, she is worthy to become the countess erintoff, though that is an alternative i would avoid. bah! i cannot think i shall be brought so low as to sue at the feet of a gipsy!" while the count was thus uttering his thoughts aloud, groff returned. "success attends us, sir," he exclaimed. "the maiden is at length safe within your palace, from whence she may have some difficulty in escaping, though she firmly believes that she is under the roof of the most grave and virtuous prince raziminski, and continues heaping blessings on his head, for his charity in protecting one of her tribe." "enough, knave! the reward shall be yours," said the count. "in what part of the palace have they put the boy?" "i will lead you to it, sir," answered groff, "for i doubt if alone you could find the room." "shew me to it then, and leave me," said the count; "your presence would alarm the maiden!" saying which, he followed groff down several flights of steps, and through long passages to a room in the lower part of the palace. he then waited at the half open door, through which he heard the sound of voices. "i thought that few of the nobles of this city possessed charity sufficient to shelter a humble gipsy boy; but i see that i am mistaken, and may blessings rest on the head of the good and kind prince," said azila. "he is indeed, kind," said one of the boys, "for he has sent us abundance of good things to eat, and his servants told us we should have more, and that he would send us away with plenty of money in our pockets." "he will not go unrewarded. see, conrin! i have bound up your brother's arm, and he will now do well, and if the kind prince will let you remain, you must take charge of him, for i have matters of importance to attend to, and must away!" hearing this, the count moved from the door, and went in search of a servant. "go quickly," said he, "to the chamber where the wounded boy and the gipsy girl are, and say that the prince--mark you, the prince, your master, desires to see her, ere she departs, to inquire how her brother fares; then conduct her to the state apartment. guard her well, and see that she escapes not, by any chance." the count repaired immediately to the magnificent room he had mentioned, to await the coming of azila. the floor was covered with rich turkey carpets; superb pictures, and mirrors, reaching from the ground to the highly embossed ceiling, ornamented the walls, the latter reflecting the luxurious and handsome furniture which filled the room, while from the windows was seen an extensive view of the beautiful city of moscow. "though other means have failed," he said, "i will try if she is not to be tempted by this display of magnificence and luxury to become the mistress here. surely a girl, brought up beneath a skin-covered tent, cannot resist such a temptation; and if so, my conquest is easy." he stood partly concealed by the thick drapery of the curtains; a light step approached; azila entered the apartment, and the door was closed behind her. she was dressed in the same graceful costume as when ivan and thaddeus had first seen her, except that a cloak, worn over her dress, almost concealed her form. she advanced to the centre of the apartment, ere she had perceived the count, when he turned towards her. she started slightly as she saw him, but betrayed no other sign of trepidation or fear. "i must have been deceived," she said. "i came to thank the noble prince raziminski for his kindness and charity to a wounded boy of my tribe; but it seems that to you is due the credit of that charitable deed. i will send some of our people to take away the child, and beg to offer you our grateful thanks for your charity in taking care of him. with your leave i will now depart." she was turning to go, when the count advanced somewhat nearer towards her. "lovely girl," he said, with an impassioned air, "i took advantage of the boy's accident, and used an excusable artifice to draw you here. i sought but to see you, to convince you of the ardour--the truth of my affection. believe me, that i regret the violence i before used, which your coldness--your cruelty compelled me to resort to. let me hear my pardon from those lips, beautiful maiden! 'tis all i ask for!" "for the favour you have done to one of my tribe, i would endeavour to forget any injury you would have caused me. beyond this, i have nothing to forgive: i bear you no malice, noble lord! and all i now ask is leave to depart," said azila. "still haughty and cold! why this indifference? you know not the love-- the passion--with which your charms have inspired my bosom. surely it cannot be in your nature to be thus so cruel to me, who love you to desperation, who would do ought to please you. behold this spacious palace! these magnificent chambers! are they not superior to your skin-covered tents? remain, and you shall be mistress of all; numberless servants will obey you; sumptuous fare shall be served to you; boundless wealth shall be at your command. every luxury and indulgence which love can invent shall surround you, if you will but consent to accept them at my hands. whatever you may desire--any thing--every thing shall be granted to you?" "i make but one simple demand," answered the maiden. "it is to be allowed to depart, free as i came;--more i cannot say." "have you no other answer to make than that, cruel, inexorable maiden? hear me!" exclaimed the count, throwing himself at her feet, and seizing her hand, which she vainly endeavoured to disengage. "hear me! i love, i adore you to desperation; your very coldness has inflamed my passion! the bright glance of your eyes consumes me; the sweet tones of your voice thrill through my frame, and drive me to madness at the thought of losing you! i cannot exist without you. hear me once again! i offer you wealth, power, unbounded luxury! i offer you more--my name--my rank--for well could you, as the countess erintoff, grace that station. speak, ere i die at your feet, for i rise not till you give me hopes of life and happiness with you." azila for an instant seemed moved, and turned aside her head, to avoid his fixed gaze; but there was no answering softness in the expression of her full bright eye. she spoke at length: "rise, noble lord! rise, you but demean yourself by thus bending before one humble as myself! i am grateful for your generous offers, but i cannot accept them. a captive can make no just conditions with his jailor, and i still ask but one favour; to depart as i came." the count started from the ground, astonishment and rising fury blending in his look. "can that heart," he exclaimed, "be so frozen by the frosts of winter, that it is callous to the voice of love? but no, it would be contrary to the law of nature, it is impossible! maiden, you love another! i know it--answer me--is it not the truth? by heavens! i cannot brook a rival in your love, and he shall deeply rue it!" as the count spoke, a blush did now for the first time rise on her cheeks and brow, and as he went on threatening his vengeance, with furious action against his rival, the colour again forsook her face, and left her as she then stood in an unintentionally commanding attitude; like some lovely statue of a goddess uttering her commands to mortals. "if my love is given to another, why ask me for what i no longer possess? but i say not, that it is so. again i ask to depart; for in no way, while an unwilling prisoner, could i make any engagements with my captor." the count advanced furiously again to seize her hand, but she started back a step from him. "girl," he cried, "think you i can tamely submit to be thus despised, to have my love--my devotion trampled on. again i ask you, consent to return here--to become my countess! to accept my love, and you are free to depart; my carriage shall then convey you where you will." "it cannot be," answered azila, firmly, "i have but to repeat my former words." "rash girl, your obduracy has driven me to madness, and the blame must rest on your own head!" exclaimed the count, again springing forward to seize her; but she calmly retreated, placing her hand beneath her vest. "proud noble, forbear! i fear you not, for i venture not abroad without the means of defending myself, since you first taught me the necessity of so doing. advance another step, and you either destroy me or yourself." the count seemed again about to spring forward, when she drew a dagger from beneath her vest, and pointed it to her bosom. "see," she said, "my weapon is of so fine a tempered steel, that even my feeble arm will suffice to protect me." the count stood astounded; he seemed fearful of advancing, and unable to speak, as she continued: "now let me depart, lead the way and i will follow you. see! i hold my firmest protector to my bosom, so attempt not to stop me, or the first hand that is laid on me will be the signal of my death. i fear not to die, so think not to detain me; with full confidence i leave the boys of my tribe under your care." the count exclaimed, "inexplicable girl! you have conquered for a time; i now obey you! but you have kindled an inextinguishable flame within my bosom, which will consume us both. we must soon meet again. i will lead the way as you desire." uttering these words, the count led the way from the apartment towards the hall of entrance, where the domestics stood with amazed looks, as their haughty lord passed, followed by the humble gipsy girl. the portal stood open as azila passed out, bowing coldly to the count, when he stepped aside to allow her to pass; she did not cast a glance at the others who were present. she seemed more like some distinguished guest respectfully attended to the entrance of the mansion by her host, than one of a despised and lowly race, escaping from the toils of a proud and libertine noble. the count retreated to the upper apartments of his sumptuous palace, moody, and furious at his defeat. the ruffian groff was then summoned to attend him. "hear me, villain," he exclaimed, "the youth i spoke of must die! i will have no doubt or hesitation on your part. the sum i promised you, when i hear of his death, shall be doubled; although you have enough to revenge for your own sake, without requiring any other stimulant. mark me! he has again crossed my path, so let there be no delay, for i cannot longer endure the thought that he should triumph over me." "your orders are sufficiently clear," sir, answered groff, "and they shall be obeyed without fear of the consequences. i am not a man to hesitate in my duty to so generous a master; and perhaps you will recollect that my first plan succeeded as far as it was in my power; the ultimate failure will be no fault of mine." "i understand you, knave, you would receive your wages as you proceed; here, take this purse, it contains a trifle in comparison with the sum you will be soon possessed of, if i do not mistake. now begone! and let me not see your face till you can bring me the news i wish to hear." groff departed, and the count continued pacing the floor with feelings, of which few would envy him the possession. volume , chapter xi. it was a dark and stormy night. the wind blew in violent and fitful gusts through the ill-lighted and irregular streets, now and then entirely extinguishing some of the few straggling lamps, while the remainder gave but a feeble and uncertain light, as the rain rushed down in torrents, making the road and pathway slippery with slime and mud. the night had just closed in; yet, notwithstanding the inclemency and boisterousness of the weather, and the difficulties of the road, persons were still wandering abroad on various avocations, when a figure closely muffled in a large cloak, (apparently to shield himself from the tempest), issued from a side door of the palace of the count erintoff. he walked hastily along, keeping on the darker sides of the streets, as if to avoid recognition, and paused not till he reached the hotel where ivan had taken up his abode. he remained concealed beneath the shelter of a porch, on the opposite side of the street, into which no gleam of light penetrated; though a lamp, burning in the doorway of the hotel, enabled him to command a distinct view of all who might enter, or depart. thrusting his hand in his bosom, he thus muttered to himself: "ah! most trusty weapon, thou art not likely to fail me, if my arm proves true. far better is the silent and sharp dagger to do such a deed, than the noisy and treacherous pistol, which has often failed a better man than myself, on a like occasion; yet, i did well to bring my noisy friend, in case, by any chance, the first should fail to strike home.--ah! some one approaches." groff, for it was he, drew farther back into the shade, to prevent himself from being seen by the stranger who was about to pass. at that moment, a person with a light and active step, completely shielded from the weather, walked quickly by, so that groff could catch a glance of his features. he had not long to remain after this on his watch, when a figure appeared at the door of the hotel, whom he guessed must be his intended victim; for having cast a look at the dark and clouded sky, the person issued forth in the direction groff expected him to take. the ruffian accordingly emerged from his hiding-place, and stealthily followed, at a short distance, the steps of his hoped for prey. it was impossible to distinguish the figures of anybody, on such a night, wrapped up as all were who ventured abroad; but groff felt that he could not be mistaken, both from seeing his intended victim issue from the hotel in which ivan resided, and from the direction he was taking. the person walked rapidly along, threading the intricate and obscure streets, without hesitation; every now and then, however, drawing his cloak closer around him, and casting a hurried look behind, as if to observe if he was followed. on these occasions, groff contrived to shrink under the shade of some buttress, or projecting wall. owing to his being perfectly well acquainted with the streets, and knowing each turning the person would probably take, he was enabled, successfully to dodge his footsteps, till he had arrived in the neighbourhood of the mansion previously described, in the garden of which the meetings of the conspirators were held. the man there stopped, and looked cautiously around, retracing his steps for a short distance, as if to assure himself that he had not been followed; throwing a scrutinising glance, as he lifted his hand to shade his eyes, down two or three narrow lanes, which there turned off from that along which he had passed. he seemed, however, satisfied, and was about to pass on. "now is my time," thought groff, who had hidden beneath a dark arch way, "i will now rush forward, and strike him, to make sure, and save myself a long and disagreeable watch; but he looks as if prepared for danger, and i may find a warmer reception than i wish, or he may cry out and give the alarm, before i have time to escape." while groff was thus debating with himself, the person again walked on, unconscious of the danger he had so narrowly just escaped; and the assassin, fearful of being discovered after his evident wariness, if he pursued him further, concealed himself carefully under an arch, let into a wall, which had at one time served as an entrance to the garden behind it; but, for some reason, the inner part was now blocked up with stones, leaving, however, a recess sufficiently deep for a person to hide within it. "here i will await his return," muttered groff; "he has never yet failed to pass this way, and i have well marked his figure, so that i should know him if there was but a glimpse of light. i wish i had followed him to find out where he goes to, for there may be some secret worth knowing in that. it is an odd place for a person to come to so constantly, and i should make a fine thing of it, if i discovered any hidden plot, which the count could reveal to the emperor; it would bring him into high favour, and i, his follower, would benefit by it. i might easily manage to get rid of the youth in some other place, and if i slay him now, i lose my opportunity. but no! one scheme is but a chance, while his death will give me a certainty of reward." having thus made up his mind, groff remained in concealment for two or three hours, till he began almost to fear that his victim had escaped, by passing some other way. he watched with breathless expectation-- anxiously looking forth from his place of shelter. the rain still fell in torrents, and flashes of lightning now and then darted from the heavens. one flash, brighter than the others, almost blinded him, as he grasped his dagger firmly in his hand; but he was no coward, though but a common ruffian, and he did not tremble. he again drew back, and listened attentively. footsteps approached, he could not be mistaken; he heard the light and quick step advancing--nearer and nearer it came-- he feared to breathe lest the sound might reach his victim's ears--he more firmly clutched his dagger. with one foot advanced--his arm raised ready to strike, he stood pressing his body against the wall; he could distinguish the very breathing of him who was approaching. the figure filled the archway--the assassin sprang from his lair, his dagger's point towards the breast of his victim. the lightning flashed brightly in forked streaks from the sky and played round the blue steel, but it failed to bring heaven's vengeance, as it glanced before the eyes of the doomed one. he started back, but, alas, too late! the sharp point pierced his bosom. too firmly was the assassin's arm nerved; deep-- deep, he drove his murderous weapon home; his whole force was in the thrust. loud rolling peals of thunder reverberated through the heavens, as the work of blood was doing, and drowned the dying groan of the murdered man. heavily he fell, struck down by the force of the blow. no sigh escaped his breast; but the foul midnight murderer was not content; drawing the reeking steel from the wound, his teeth grinding with fury, his eyes starting from his head, he plunged it again, and again, to the very hilt, into the bosom of the fallen man, the warm blood spouting from each fresh wound, and dyeing his hands. he stooped down, tearing aside the cloak and vest, seeking with eager haste, to feel the bosom of him whom he had slain, to find if perchance it yet palpitated with life; but well and truly had he done his work; a deep deadly wound had pierced that heart, which, but a few moments before, had beat with confidence--true patriotism--high hopes and aspirations; inflicted by his foul hand. for a moment, a gleam of satisfaction passed through the murderer's bosom that his work was accomplished, and his reward gained; but an instant afterwards, and oh! for ten thousand worlds would none have exchanged the most wretched poverty for the feelings which possessed him. it was his first cold, deliberate, mercenary shedding of blood; he felt himself to be an accursed wretch on the earth. he could not fly, a fascination chained him to the spot; his fingers were clammy with blood, thick clotted to his dagger's handle. he sought for a pool that he had stepped in near the spot; he tried to wash away the damning stains, but he knew that to be impossible. in the exciting moment of the murder, he had been thoughtless of the blood which flowed over him, but he now observed that he was covered with it. the rain again fell in torrents, he stood exposed to its fury, to let it wash away the stain. it revived him; his thoughts again returned to their accustomed channel. the recollection of the money, for which he had done the deed, recurred to him; avarice seized his heart, and he remembered that, perchance, the murdered man might have gold about him. he now neither trembled nor hesitated, as he felt about the body of his victim. with joy he clutched a purse, by the size and weight of which he knew it must contain gold; he felt in the breast, he drew from thence a packet of letters; a thought struck him that they might be of use to his master; he also possessed himself of watch and jewels. he was satisfied: no regret, no compunction for the deed oppressed him. his callous indifference had returned; an idea then occurred to him-- horrid--diabolical. he searched around, to find some large stones, and with all his force he dashed one on the head of the murdered man; he seized another, and another, and hurled them with fury on the head of his victim, till he knew that every feature must be obliterated. again the lightning flashed brightly, and shewed him his work. he gazed on the ghastly spectacle; the thunder rolled terrifically, and seemed about to cast its bolts on his head. even the assassin, callous and hardy as he was, now trembled, he could stand no more, and fled hastily from his cursed work. on--on--he went, nor dared to look behind him, for he felt himself pursued by some phantom of tremendous, of horrid aspect. there was a weight at his breast, his brain burned; he longed to shriek, to give vent to his feelings; but his voice seemed choked, he could utter no sound. he felt a longing desire to rush into fierce strife, to find more and more to slay, more to destroy. he was like the tiger who has once tasted of blood; nothing could slake his thirst; blood--blood he longed for, and still he fled away from that he had first spilled; but he thought he could blot out, with fresh blood, the remembrance of that dreadful deed. he was flying on, a sort of brute instinct guiding his way, when he was called to his senses, by the loud challenge of a sentry from some government building. in a moment, he was again himself, the bold, careless ruffian; he answered calmly to the challenge, and was allowed to proceed onward; he drew his cloak closely around him, and walked towards the palace of his master, with a steady step; but it still required some exertion over his nerves, to prevent himself from rushing onward at his former pace. at length he reached the palace, and knocked at a side door, where kruntz was in waiting for him. his fellow ruffian started, as holding up a light, he caught sight of his pale, haggard cheek, his starting eye, and the dark red stains with which, as his cloak fell off, his dress was besmeared. "what work hast thou been about now, groff?" asked the man, "thou look'st like some wandering ghost." "a butcher's!" answered groff, in a thick husky voice; "but ask me no questions. where is our lord? i must see him directly; i have matters of importance to communicate." "would'st go to him in that pretty guise, friend?" said kruntz; "truly it would please him much to see thee thus. look at thyself in a glass, man, and thou would'st not much admire thine own countenance; if thou didst look always thus, thou would'st have but poor chance with the fair damsels thou seekest to captivate, and even men would be apt to shun thy company. i, for one, should not much like to be as near thee always as i now am. get thee in, man, and change thy draggled garments." "aye, i forgot me," answered groff. "say not a word, kruntz, nor rouse the other knaves. i'll go change these wet garments, and then present me to our lord; here, give me thy lamp." thus saying, groff seized the lamp from kruntz's hand, and turned the light away from himself. "go, tell the count, that i have returned and will give my news, when i am fit to appear before him." while kruntz went to report the return of groff, the assassin hastened to throw off his blood-stained garments, which he carefully tied up in a bundle, and hid them away together with his dagger; then having washed all stains from his cheeks and hands, he presented himself before the count erintoff. he entered the room abruptly. "the deed is done which you required," he said; "to-morrow morning the whole city will ring with it, and i may then claim my reward. i made sure work, and the youth will never more stand in your way." "good," answered the count, "you shall have your reward. come to-morrow to claim it." "it is well and hardly earned, let me say; and here is something that i found in the breast of the youth; these papers may give you some information," said groff. "let me have them," said the count. "is this all you found upon him, knave, eh?" "nothing farther; i stayed not to search him," answered the ruffian. "well, well, it matters not," said the count; "leave me, i will examine these papers." the murderer gladly withdrew from the presence of his instigator to crime, to join his companion, and to drown his conscience with wine; first examining and then carefully hiding the spoils he had taken from his victim. the count, when left alone, eagerly tore open the papers he had received, though he shuddered as on the outer packet, he caught sight of the stains of blood; the blood of the youth he had so heartlessly, so revengefully consigned to an early death; but all thoughts of remorse for the deed were forgotten, as he glanced his eye over the documents. some were in cypher, but others he perused with the deepest interest. as he read, he exclaimed aloud: "ah, this is a fortunate discovery! how many do i now hold in my power! ah, and you too! the man i hate! i shall be amply revenged on him! my fortune is on the ascendant! by heavens! this information is worth a princedom to me! ay, and i will gain it too! i would have sacrificed a thousand lives to have gained it! my revenge satisfied, now for love! ah, beautiful but haughty girl, your lover dead, you will now become mine; you will soon willingly come to my arms. fortunately, that villain cannot read, nor has he even looked at these papers; i must not let him guess at their contents, or he may make higher demands on me. i trust he has not kept back any other papers; but no, he has given these as my share, and has kept the youth's gold, if he had any, to himself:--he is welcome to it. but if i give information of this affair, may i not be suspected of the murder? however, that matters nothing; the government will be too well pleased to gain the information, to inquire very minutely how i came by it, or, if they should, i may easily invent a tale to account for it. i must see to this." volume , chapter xii. we must now turn our view to a chamber in the chateau of the baron galetzoff. it was furnished with heavy and old fashioned hangings which gave it a solemn and sombre air, increased by the windows being closed to exclude the glare of day; one stream of light alone entering through the curtains, and throwing a still darker shade into the rest of the room. two female attendants stood by the side of a couch, on which reclined, now wan and emaciated, that unhappy and mysterious lady, whom ivan had so short a time before left in health, and all the majesty of beauty. her eye fixed and regardless of all around, her thoughts seemed to be far away, wandering perchance amid the scenes of her youth, with the loved beings of other days, whom she had long, long ago lost, but soon hoped again to meet in other and happier realms. as she gazed, their airy forms flitted before her eyes, and the well remembered lineaments became clear, and distinct, beckoning her to follow. she moved not, she spoke not, and as the attendants looked on her, they thought her spirit had departed. a slow and gentle step approached: it was that of a venerable grey-headed man in the robes of a priest, whose clear, calm eye, and placid countenance, betokened an amiable and tender heart. he seated himself quietly by the side of the couch, but the movement roused the lady from her seeming trance, and she turned her eyes towards him. "daughter," he said, "i could not rest away from your side, and as soon as i had performed the duties which called me hence, i returned to afford you all the consolation of which religion has so great a store." "father!" she answered in a low voice, "to your instructions do i owe the great, the inestimable benefits which i may now partake of; else had i remained like the beast that perishes, without that faith and hope which now sustain me." "daughter! those are the sentiments which should possess the bosoms of all who are about to leave this vale of tears," continued the holy man; "clear your thoughts of all things appertaining to this world, and fix them on the next." "i would do so, father, but i cannot!" answered the lady. "i must, ere i die, see one, the dearest to me on earth; till then i cannot tear my thoughts from him. has he arrived? oh! that i could see him, ere my spirit wings its flight from hence. oh! let there be no delay when he comes, for each instant i feel the throbbing of my heart grow weaker." "there shall be no delay, my daughter! a faithful messenger has been sent to summon him; but, when i just now entered the house, he had not arrived," said the priest. scarcely had he uttered the words, when the lady exclaimed, "ah, i now hear his horse's steps approaching; oh! haste, father, and bid him come hither." "you are mistaken, daughter, i heard no sound, and he could scarcely arrive by this hour," answered the priest. "ah, no! father, i mistake not, even now i hear his footstep in the hall. he approaches. oh, my heart! cease not to beat, till i have seen him once again," she exclaimed, nor had her sense of hearing deceived her; rendered still more acute, as her other faculties were fast failing. in a few moments, a gentle knock was heard, and the dwarf entered. "i know that he is come," said the lady, "oh! let me see him without delay; and holy father, i would be alone with him." the priest rose to obey her wishes, and withdrew with the attendants, as ivan entered. as she saw him, her faded eye brightened; and she stretched out her arms to receive him, as throwing himself on his knees by the side of the couch, he shaded his face with his hands, and a convulsive sob escaped his bosom. "do i find you thus?" he exclaimed after a moment's pause, "my friend-- my kind protectress? why was i not before apprised of your illness? why was i not here to solace and comfort you?" "i knew not that death was making such rapid strides towards me," answered the lady; "but think not that i am unhappy. now that i have you with me, loved one! i am content to bear my lot; but i must not waste these precious moments, for i have much to say and my time on earth will quickly end. listen to me," and she spoke in that language which she had taught ivan in his youth, and in which they loved to commune together. "can you remember the early days of your youth, and those scenes of which i once forbade you to speak?" she said. "yes--yes--vividly can i now recall several to my mind," answered ivan. "i remember a strange land, and scenes far different to this country; and also your kindness, your love from my earliest days." "think you that the affection and fond solicitude with which i tended your youth, could ever have been felt by any but a mother! none but a mother could feel the undying love which i bear for you. my boy! my child! come to my arms, and let me hold thee there, before i die. you are--you are my son, and though in life, i dared not, for your sake, acknowledge it, i rejoice to die, that now i may declare the truth before all the world." "my heart always told me so," exclaimed the young man, fondly embracing her, as she held out her arms to receive him. "o my loved mother! would that i might thus have called you before! but say who is my father? is it not the baron?" "thank great heaven! no, my loved son--no! your father was noble, generous, and brave; methinks, i now see his noble countenance reflected in my boy; but my strength fails me, my voice grows weak. listen, ere it be too late, to my story. "it was in our own loved and beautiful land, amid the magnificent mountains, the green and fertile glens of circassia, that your father was distinguished as one of the noblest and bravest chieftains. five thousand daring horsemen assembled at his command, ready to follow wherever he should lead. many of the neighbouring chiefs were subject to him; all honoured or feared him. he kept free from the feuds which distracted and weakened the other tribes, and all sought to be in amity with him. he had numerous flocks and herds, which fed on the richest pastures; he had abundance of wealth; fleet and hardy steeds; rich armour and apparel; faithful and devoted servants. "i was the daughter of a neighbouring prince; your noble father sought and won me in marriage. we had two children, you my loved son, and a fair young daughter; how my heart has bled as i have thought of that lovely cherub, whom i have been destined to see no more, and whose fate i tremble to think of! but our happiness, which seemed as full as mortals could enjoy, was destined to be fleeting and transitory; we were awoke, suddenly and without preparation, from our short-lived dream of bliss. "our territories, which extended over many of the rocky and precipitous mountains bordering on the sea, had hitherto, on account of their lofty situation, almost inaccessible to attack, escaped the devastating visits of the invaders of our country. our home was near, the coast, and your father, confiding in the security of our situation, had gone with the greater part of his followers to repel a distant inroad of the enemy, leaving only a few to protect our herds, when a fleet of the lofty ships of the russians, made a sudden descent on our coast. their troops landed in numbers, and stormed the passes leading to our dwellings, destroying the fields of corn on their road, and carrying off, or killing all the cattle they could seize; the few of our men remaining in the neighbourhood assembled in haste, and disputed each spot of ground practicable of defence, with all the energy and bravery of despair; even the women seized arms and joined the men, aiding them to their utmost; some hurling down stones on the heads of the invaders, as they defiled through each narrow gorge. but what could a handful of men do, taken almost by surprise, against a host of well-equipped and ferocious enemies? frantic with our hopeless efforts, we fought till our men were all slain, for none would yield, while they had strength to use their weapons. "my heart sickens even now at the wanton and cruel butcheries which the ruthless barbarians committed. the children were torn from their mothers' arms and slaughtered in their sight; some few of the women however escaped with the infants under their charge, among whom was your young sister, and gained the mountains, beyond the reach of their pursuers. "a ruffian was about to destroy you, my boy, when you were rescued from his grasp by a more humane comrade, who, as i afterwards found, was a servant belonging to the leader of the enemy's forces. from a height overlooking the pass, i beheld you borne away in the arms of the soldier, and i sought to throw myself down, to tear you from the robber's grasp, or to share your captivity. i was, however, forcibly prevented by my attendants, who deaf to my entreaties and disobedient to my commands, when i ordered them to release me, compelled me to remain concealed in a cavern from the sight of our enemies. the russians had retired from the defiles and passes in the mountains and encamped near the seashore, under protection of the guns of then ships; we, the wretched and melancholy few who remained, watched from the neighbouring heights, there passing the live-long night, for we had no homes to return to; our once smiling dwellings were burnt to the ground, our streams choked with the dead, and tinged with their blood, our cattle carried off, and desolation reigned around. "we were aroused from our lamentations over the fallen brave, by the arrival of a band of horsemen, who had been sent back by your father; they proposed to delay making any attack on the foe till their numbers could be increased from the neighbouring villages; but i thought of you, my boy--you a prisoner in the hands of our enemies, and i dreaded lest they should set sail, and bear you far away without a hope of recovering you. with lamentations and entreaties, with tears and commands, i urged on our men to the attack. i shewed them the ignominy, the disgrace, which would cover them, should they allow an enemy, who had devastated their lands, slain their kinsmen, and carried away captive their wives and children, to escape, without attempting to revenge their loss. i pointed out to them that the son of their beloved chieftain was in the power of their enemies, and that should they discover the value of their prize, they would endeavour to bring us to terms, disgraceful and injurious to our country, for the sake of recovering him. i excited their valour--i fired their souls with my eloquence, wrought to the highest pitch by a mother's anxiety--i offered to lead them, putting myself at their head, and swore never to return unsuccessful. "we sent out messengers in all directions around, summoning all who could be collected to join our forces. none hesitated to obey our summons, for the same detestation of our invaders animated the breasts of all. before the morning broke, we had assembled from all quarters an irregular, but heroic band, eager to be led against the common foe. from the thick wooded heights, which overhung the coast, we rushed down upon the unprepared camp, like some mountain torrent, suddenly swelled by the thunder cloud, sweeping over the plain, bearing all before it. i felt not like a weak, timid woman, but as the enraged lioness, whose young has been torn from her by the hands of the huntsmen. i sprung to rescue you; by word and action, i encouraged our men to the assault, and heeded not the overwhelming numbers opposed to us. "the russians roused from their sleep, ere the out-posts could give the alarm, rushed to their arms; many, owing to the confusion and darkness, missed their weapons. in an instant we were upon them; and as corn before the sickle we hewed them down, none crying for mercy; they knew they deserved it not, we shewed none. but ere our work was done, the morning broke, and exhibited our scanty force to the enemy, who rallied at the sight, and retreated fighting in order. but i had not recovered my child, and it was for that object alone that i fought. suddenly, i caught sight of you at a distance, with other prisoners amid the ranks of the foe. i strained every nerve to reach you--i saw not the blows aimed at me--i encouraged my followers, and on--on, we rushed, fearless of the danger, and ignorant of the vast power of the mighty engines of destruction which their huge ships bore. fighting step by step, we repelled the russians, till they gained the very margin of the sea, and then, just as we thought victory secure--their ships opened upon us suddenly the hot shower of their artillery, which no valour could withstand; my brave companions fell fast around me while fighting, and still hotly pursuing the foe, till death arrested their course. "scarcely any remained by my side, when it seemed that a sickness came over me, and i fell to the ground, and knew not what further happened. "when i awoke to consciousness, i found myself on board of one of the russian ships, borne far from my native land. i endeavoured to recall my scattered senses: a fever raged through my brain, as i was conducted into the presence of the chief who had led the attack on our territory-- he was the baron galetzoff!" ivan's brow grew dark, and an exclamation of anger rose to his lips; but he restrained his passion. "he eyed me with a glance which pierced me through my soul, as i stood with my head bowed before him, nor could words find utterance through my parched lips. he spoke, but i was deaf to the sound. strange people were around me; an uncouth language was spoken, whose meaning i could not understand: entreaty, resistance, complaint, were alike unavailing. i had none to appeal to from whom i could hope for assistance. i knew myself to be utterly helpless; none around me could understand my words. i was led back, unresistingly, to my solitary cabin. i yielded to my fate, for all thoughts of escape were hopeless. i thought of death as a refuge for my wretchedness; but one idea, one hope still sustained me, and bade me cling to life. i might, should you have escaped destruction, still have a chance, though a remote one, of meeting with you. the very thought restored me. i determined to live to devote my energies to find you; for i knew not of the difficulties in my way. the ship in which i was borne captive from circassia, reached the shores of russia; and i was transported to this mansion in some strange conveyance, which i had never before seen. i was here treated with every care and attention, having female attendants to wait on me, and to supply all my wants. from them i learned gradually the strange language they spoke, being inspired with the hope that it might be of service to me in my search after you; and sustained by this deep feeling, i became partially reconciled to my fate. i had not seen or heard of my captor since i left the ship, except that, as far as i could understand, he was still absent from his domain. "my sole delight and employment was in wandering through the woods, while thinking of you, and in forming many different projects to discover to what part of the country you had been conveyed. on one of these excursions i had gone further than usual from home, and had for an instant lost sight of my attendant, when a child's cry caught my ear. i rushed forward eagerly at the sound, for the notes vibrated through my heart like some beloved and well-known voice. i was not to be deceived. oh! joy of joys! blessing unspeakable! it was you, my own loved boy-- far off, i knew you. i sprang forward--i pressed you to my bosom--i covered you with kisses--i placed you on the ground: again and again i snatched you in my arms. i wept--i felt mad with joy; all my sorrows, all my miseries were, for the moment, forgotten; all the happiness i had lost, in an instant, appeared restored tenfold. i know not if you recognised me; but i thought you did; for you returned my embrace, looking up smilingly in my face. "a rough, but honest-faced looking man, broke through the woods in search of you, and looked surprised and alarmed on finding you in my arms. he made signs that he must take you from me; and though i sought to prevent it, you returned willingly to him. with my spirit broken, i could not dare to oppose him; and i guessed, too, from his manners and countenance, that he might prove a friend. this honest serf was the father of karl; and from him i learned that you had been carried off by his brother, who had saved your life from the hands of some of his comrades; that the baron had seen you, and for some unknown reason, had taken a fancy to you, and ordered you to be committed to his charge; and also, that you had been conveyed to the estate at the very time that i was, while i had been pining in despair for your loss. every day i frequented the same spot, which was near the serf's hut, in hopes of seeing you and clasping you to my bosom; when the honest fellow at length, taking compassion on me, used to bring you forth to meet me. oh! the happiness, the bliss of those moments, almost repaid me the misery i had suffered. i was not acquainted with the baron's disposition; but an idea occurred to me, though i scarcely know how it originated, that, should he discover you to be my son, he might, by threatening to tear you from my sight, endeavour to gain more control over me. every time that this thought recurred to me, it gave fresh strength to my opinion, and i resolved, at all hazard, to profess utter carelessness on your account; and thankful i have ever since been, that i adopted that course; for no sooner did the baron arrive, than my trials commenced. i, at first, with the most abject entreaties, prayed to be restored to my own country, hoping to take you with me; but he laughed at my petition; and when i pressed my demand, with some haughtiness of manner, he sternly refused. "all hopes of escape were as vain as the prayers addressed to my captor had been unsuccessful, for i knew not even to what part of the country i had been conveyed. i thought of the beloved husband to whom i was lost--of my sweet daughter--of friends and home; and i felt that i could not survive their loss: but your voice, though at a distance, struck on my ear, and for your sake i resolved to live on. "when you were brought to the chateau, your playful manners, and light prattle, seemed to win on the affections of the baron, as much as his rough and savage nature would permit; but i kept to my prudent resolution, and pretended not to recognise you. at first you would oftentimes throw your arms round my neck, and call me by the endearing name of mother, in your native tongue; but i taught you not to utter that name, though it almost broke my heart to do so; and my artifice succeeded; for you were constantly allowed to be with me, and the baron seemed to have no idea of our relationship. "the baron's conduct towards you was always inexplicable, for it appeared entirely contrary to his fierce and cruel disposition, to treat you as he has done. i have lately suspected that he has some secret motive for thus acting, for to me he has always been harsh and tyrannical. "there was one person in the baron's establishment who soon became entirely devoted to me--it was the dwarf ladislau. i pitied his weakness and helplessness, treating him always with kindness, for which he has shewn his gratitude by every means in his power. from him i learned that the baron had, some time before, married a lady of great beauty, who, his servants and dependants fancied, was a native of some foreign country, though they knew not from what part of the world she came. ladislau added that he himself perfectly knew, and that she was of the zingani race, and had been induced to marry the baron, more for his rank and wealth, than for any great love she bore him. this he soon discovered, and in revenge treated her so barbarously, that she was preparing to fly from his mansion, but was prevented. soon after the unfortunate lady died, after giving birth to a child; but, previously to that event, she had called the dwarf to her, and given some injunctions, which he had sworn most solemnly to fulfil, and even to keep secret within his own bosom. "the baron at first seemed repentant of his jealousy and tyranny, and grieved for his loss, seeking to make amends by his kindness to the child, for his cruelty to the mother; but, during his absence from home for a time, the child had mysteriously disappeared, and all his attempts at discovering it, had proved fruitless. methought the dwarf gave a sinister look, as he told me the tale. he said that the baron had raged and stormed at the loss of his child, but had at length given up all hopes of ever discovering the perpetrators of the deed; rather believing that it had come to some violent end, and perhaps, when he first saw you, the smiling cherub that you then were, he thought of supplying the place of his own lost one. "from the dwarf i learned, that the baron bore a deadly hatred to my country, for the reverses he had so constantly met with there; and he had sworn utterly to subdue, and reduce its inhabitants to the most abject slavery. he knew little of the noble spirit which animated their bosoms, while indulging in hopes of success against them. ladislau added, when the baron found that you, a circassian child, had been saved by one of his soldiers, he, with a refinement of cruelty, had determined to bring you up, and teach you to feel the most deadly hatred against your own countrymen, if by chance they were not subdued before that time. i thanked heaven that i was at hand to counteract his evil intentions, and the aim of my life has been, to inspire you with a love of freedom, and a hatred of all tyranny and injustice. the baron would be less than human had he not one redeeming quality; having been a father himself, he seemed, when you were a child, to have some sparks of affection for you, beyond the object for which he has educated you. he has even now adopted you, and would leave you all his wealth, would you comply with his requests. but oh! my loved son, be not seduced by the glittering baits he will offer--to turn traitor to your native land! else shall my life, and all my sufferings have been in vain. oh no! even i, to whom you are dearer than all else, counsel you to hazard death or captivity, rather than shed the blood of your countrymen, by the side of their foes. let me beseech you to fulfil the lofty purpose for which i consented to live in this hated place; and when i am no more, as i soon shall be, then fly from hence, and endeavour to reach your native land. that amulet, which you carry round your neck, has always been worn by the eldest son of the chieftain of your tribe. no sooner shall your father's followers see it, than they will acknowledge you, if unhappily your noble father no longer lives. seek the spot which was once your home, then proclaim yourself, and relate my unhappy story, when all with joy will own you; and should my loved husband still exist, give him my parting sighs." her voice, during this recital, frequently faltered through weakness; and as she fell back exhausted at its close, a thrill of horror shot through her son's frame, as for an instant he thought that, in truth, her spirit had fled to the realms of bliss; but to his great joy, she again opened her eyes, to gaze on him she loved so deeply, as he held her sinking form in his arms. he was overwhelmed with the interest of the story he had heard; and though he had loved her before he knew she was his mother, how deep and earnest was his gratitude now for her devoted, her heroic affection for him? "mother!" he cried, "i swear to obey your commands. already have i engaged in the accomplishment of a great work, after the issue of which i will haste to that land, which oft have i visited in my dreams." "enough, my son, sure i am that heaven will protect you on your way; but i have yet more to add. when you reach your native land, oh! endeavour to instil into your countrymen that mild and pure religion, which the good priest, who educated you, first taught me to know. it was once the religion of our forefathers, and the cross--the emblem of that faith--is still to be seen in the land. oh! reclaim them to the true and ancient worship of their country. my loved son! let me gaze on thee once more, ere my sight fail me. may heaven guard thy life, and make thee the deliverer of thy country! then shalt thou be known by thy true name, and well wilt thou prove worthy of thy gallant father. i cannot longer see thee, my son; but kiss me once more, and receive my last sigh:--when thou bearest it to thy father, say that i loved him to the last." she ceased to speak, ivan felt her form recline more heavily in his arms; no pulse answered to his touch. she looked lovely still, but her eye had lost that mysterious expression of the mind, when the living soul yet animates the frame. her spirit had fled! in that bleak land died the lovely exile, far distant from her own sunny clime: but she was happy at the last, when folded in the arms of that son for whose sake she had so nobly endured long and weary captivity. the young man uttered no loud complaint; but laid her form calmly on the couch, and with reverent awe closed her eyes; then gazing earnestly on her features, he threw himself on his knees by her side. the attendants entered, and found him in this posture when he was aroused by the entreaties of his faithful friend ladislau, who led him unresistingly to his chamber; and the kind-hearted dwarf then lavished his attentions upon the bereaved ivan. the stern lord of the mansion had been for some days absent, unaware of his captive's approaching liberation from her misery and thraldom; ivan was thereby enabled to indulge his grief without interruption. volume , chapter xiii. the female attendants and wives of the nearest serfs assembled to utter their lamentations over the body of the deceased, which was laid out on a couch, with the hands crossed on the breast, dressed in a crimson robe, and a rich coif placed on the head. the venerable priest who had attended her when living, came to sprinkle incense over her body; and while thus engaged, he chaunted psalms in a low and solemn voice. on the third day from her death, the remains of the lady were placed in a coffin covered with crimson cloth, and surrounded with torches; from thence it was conveyed to the neighbouring church. at a distance, followed ivan unknown and unnoticed, enveloped in his cloak; and as the priest concluded the short funeral service, he drew near, and kneeling by the coffin, kissed that cold and inanimate hand: on that spot he again swore to fulfil her commands, and to devote himself to the cause of his native country. with a tearless eye, but bursting heart; he saw all that he loved committed to the earth, and lingered long near the spot, until he was urged to depart by ladislau. the day after the sad ceremony had been performed, the baron returned to the chateau, but made no allusion to the melancholy event, nor did it appear to affect him in any way. summoning ivan to his presence soon after his arrival: "my plans are arranged," said he; "our gracious emperor has appointed me to the command of a strong force, to quell the rebellious circassians; and, in a short time, i hope to bring them under lawful subjection. this has ever been the height of my ambition. i own that the difficulties are great; but if i fall, in you, ivan, i hope to leave a worthy successor. in this parchment, you are made heir to all my possessions; and our noble czar, in consideration of my services, and as the only favour that i have asked, will permit you to assume the same rank i bear." ivan, for a time, remained silent after this announcement. a momentous period to him had arrived, and he almost dreaded the effects of what he was resolved to say, in reply. "what, young man!" exclaimed the baron, impatiently, "are you not overpowered with gratitude? what mean you by this silence--that fixed gaze--those clenched hands? do you hesitate to accept my offer? speak, boy! thwart not my will, or you will deeply repent your folly!" while the fierce old baron raved like a wounded lion, lashing himself into fury, before him stood the young circassian, calm, but determined, like some courageous hunter, who has been unexpectedly allured into the lair of the beast. after a still further protracted silence, he at length addressed the baron: "i might once have accepted the noble offer you make me, sir; but that time is passed. i now know who i am: and rather would i toil as the meanest serf on your domain, than bear arms against that country--my own, my native land. yes, sir, i am a circassian; and prouder am i to belong to that heroic race, than to the highest rank the autocrat of all the russias can confer." "what words are these i hear?" cried the baron, furiously. "disobedience to my orders: rebellion against the emperor! is it for this i have brought you up--have educated you; and would have made you wealthy and noble? i have treated you as my own son, and never wished you to know that i was not your father. who has dared to fill your mind with such dreams? they shall richly repent their interference and folly." "she, who has escaped from the reach of your power," answered ivan: "she, sir, who devoted her life to me, who was my only friend--my mother!" "what! have i been deceived, then, by the wit of a frail woman; and have i been nourishing a young viper, for years past, within my bosom, that now rises to sting me. i recall the offer i made to you. begone, leave my presence! and henceforth, let me see your face no more. from this moment i discard you--i throw you off for ever; and beware, lest you suffer as a traitor and rebel to the emperor. even now you should be seized: you have uttered treason and sedition, which merit full punishment. before long, siberia shall be your destination, where you may proclaim such fantastic nonsense without fear of injuring any. but with such pestiferous notions you shall no longer abide under my roof. begone, quit my presence, or i will send my slaves to drive you hence. am i to be thus bearded by a boy?--my offers despised?--no gratitude shown for my paternal care and liberality! begone! again i say, i will hear no reply." overwhelmed by so many various and contending emotions, ivan could with difficulty collect his thoughts, sufficiently, to determine how to act. he felt that the baron had, indeed, afforded him many advantages, and had but just now made him what, at all events, appeared to be a generous offer; although he had, at the same time, treated his mother with cruelty and injustice, which might counterbalance all kindness shewn to himself. his better feelings, however, conquered; and as he slowly quitted the apartment, he turned, and was about to express them, when he encountered the fierce look of the baron, and saw that further discourse would but increase his anger. when left alone, the baron, with furious gestures, paced the apartment. "i would yet tame," he muttered to himself, "that proud and haughty spirit, which, otherwise directed, might have fully answered to my wishes. no, no, i will let him range at large; his means will soon be exhausted, and i shall then find him returning to crouch at my feet. ah! that will satisfy my vengeance; and i may then do with him as i list. he shall no longer remain here, nor return, until he comes a suppliant before me." summoning his attendants, he exclaimed, "let a horse be given to the rebellious youth who has just left me, and you, karl! take whatever belongs to him from hence, and bear it wherever he lists. henceforth he returns here no more. do you hear me, slaves? depart, and obey my orders!" the frightened servants hurried out to obey their fierce lord's commands, and the dwarf ladislau, who had stolen in unperceived among them, no sooner heard the order given, than he hastened to report it to ivan. "my best--my only true friend!" said ladislau, in tears, "alas! you are banished for ever from hence, for i know that the baron will not relent! nor shall i be allowed to see you again. i know not what course you mean to pursue; but this i know, my dear ivan, that wherever you go, you will require money. now i have no need of any myself, and therefore, if you have any regard for me, if you would not break my heart before its time, accept this purse. you will find in it enough to supply your wants for some time to come, and i shall never feel the loss of it." ivan was affected to tears by this mark of affection from his diminutive friend, but at the same time he hesitated in depriving him of his means of existence, should he, like himself, be turned out into the world; but the excitable ladislau broke out into a violent flood of tears, as he at first refused the gift, and swore that he himself would never touch it, if ivan did not make use of it. so that at last, much against his inclination, he was obliged to accept a small portion, sufficient he trusted to carry him to the shores of circassia. after waiting some time, in the hope that the baron's anger would cool, he sent a message requesting permission to see him again before his departure; but a stern refusal was the answer, and an order that he should quit the house without further delay. his proud spirit thus irritated, he no longer hesitated to obey the stern command, after taking an affectionate leave of ladislau, who refused to be comforted. with heavy heart, and agitated feelings, he sallied forth for the last time from the gates of the chateau, amid looks of sadness and regret depicted on the faces of the servants, who dared in no other way to express their sentiments; and as he passed through the domain, many an affectionate regard was uttered by the serfs whom he met, grateful for his many acts of kindness to them; he then pursued his journey towards moscow. on his arrival he repaired to the same hotel where he had before resided; he now had to undergo the pain of parting from the honest serf karl, when he felt how few there were who cared for him; and this man having been his particular attendant from his childhood, he could not but feel grieved at the separation. the poor fellow, who would willingly and gladly have followed his fortunes, shed many tears as he embraced his master's knees; but it was useless for him to repine, the stern law of the land forbade him. he was a slave chained to the soil, and obliged to obey the owner whoever he might be; and the baron had ordered him to return to the chateau without delay. it was long before he could tear himself away from the youth, whom he had attended from his boyhood, and for whom he felt a faithful attachment; but at length, bathed in tears, he rushed from him, mounted his horse and returned to his place of bondage, mourning over his own abject state, which should thus prevent him from following where his inclinations led. he had never before thought or dreamed of quitting the domain where he was born and bred; but now the wish to be free seized him, to throw off the yoke which could thus enchain his movements. he returned discontented and unhappy to his father's hut, determining to seize the first opportunity to emancipate himself from bondage. ivan immediately despatched a messenger to acquaint his friend thaddeus with the circumstances which had occurred; summoning him to his aid and counsel. he had now entered a new era in his existence; henceforth he felt that he must entirely depend on his own judgment and courage, to conduct him through the difficult and perilous way of life he had chosen, in preference to the one the baron had offered. his thoughts reverted to the days of his light-hearted boyhood, and he felt himself to be a man, indeed, with all the cares and anxieties almost inseparable from that stage of life; but he also felt that it was not a time for needless meditation--action, decided and instant action, was now become necessary. he had devoted himself to assist in forwarding a great cause, the freedom of russia; but then again, he felt that his own country had a prior claim to his services. he hesitated in deciding which plan it was most incumbent on him to pursue. whether, at once to carry his sword to the aid of circassia, or to fulfil the first engagements he had entered into, when he thought himself a russian, and to assist in the liberation of russia from despotism. it occurred to him, at the same time, that by following the latter plan, he might be more effectually aiding his own country, for should freedom once be established among the russians, he supposed it but natural that that people would desist from their unjust endeavours to deprive circassia of her liberty. ivan determined, therefore, to wait a short time, at least, the course of events before he set off on his expedition in search of all which could now be dear to him. country--home--father--and relations. he had to begin a new life: to throw off many of his old habits; to make new friends; and to consider those as enemies whom he had hitherto looked upon as countrymen. while these ideas were rapidly passing through his mind, he recollected that that evening had been fixed upon for a general meeting of the conspirators; and as soon as night arrived, he sallied forth amid the bustling crowds who hurried by, heedless of him and his intentions. but there was one who anxiously had been waiting to observe his movements. as he left the house, that person, who was no other than his intended murderer, groff, followed his steps, cautiously threading his way among the crowd, or retiring, when requisite, from observation to recommence his trail. as ivan walked quickly onwards, it struck him that he was followed, as he had been on a former occasion, and he prepared himself for any sudden encounter. without any impediment, however, he reached the place of meeting, where he found the greater number of the chief conspirators assembled, and several new recruits among them. on his entrance, all turned their faces towards him, and started from their seats. "what! is it ivan galetzoff we see before us?" exclaimed one, advancing towards him with surprise on his countenance. "is it possible that you stand before us alive and well?" "indeed," answered ivan, "i know it to be perfectly possible, although i do not understand the drift of your observations. are you inclined to be merry? yet i should suppose our affairs were too important to furnish matter for jesting!" "here's some extraordinary mistake," said the conspirator, "and glad are we to find you alive, when we thought you had been foully murdered." "murdered!" exclaimed ivan, "what gave rise to such an idea?" "on the morning succeeding the last night you were here, a person was found, not far from this spot, murdered, with several wounds in his breast, and his features so disfigured that it was impossible to recognise him; it was also said that there was nothing found about his person, by which he could be known. rumour proclaimed you to be the unfortunate individual, and from your not again appearing among us, we concluded that you had indeed been the victim." "it is clear that we have been mistaken," said another conspirator, adding as he turned to ivan, "know you not that you have broken through the laws of our society, by absenting yourself without giving reason for so doing; it is for the safety of all, that the movements of every member of our association should be known to the committee of direction. remember, that the sword of vengeance hangs over the head of him who shall turn traitor to our cause: secret, and sure will be the punishment, from which the guilty cannot escape, sheltered even in the palace of the autocrat." "gentlemen!" said ivan, rising, "ready should i be to suffer a traitor's death, were i so base as to betray the sacred--the noble cause in which i am engaged. no time was allowed me to apprise you of my departure, when i was called away to attend a parent's death-bed. if such be considered a crime, i am ready to suffer; but rather let my actions convince you how true and earnest i am in the cause of liberty. you see one before you now, ruined to all worldly prospects, and eager to assist in the work we have proposed. let there be no further delay; we are already strong in the numbers and resources of our friends. let us at once raise the standard of revolt against tyranny, and proclaim liberty to russia, for sure i am that at the signal of deliverance, thousands will hasten joyfully to join our ranks, and that ere long the russians, having thrown off the yoke of slavery, may lift up their heads among the free people of the earth." these sentiments were received with loud acclamations by the majority of his hearers. "the youth speaks well," said one of the conspirators, rising; a violent and turbulent character, and a strong advocate for extreme measures; "but before we take the field openly, one great object must be accomplished, without which all our future efforts will be vain. will you, who have so bravely spoken, undertake to perform that great, that sacred work? it is no slight deed--it is full of peril; but if success attends your aim, it will cover your name for ever with a wreath of glory. it is this: let me not hesitate to declare it; and let yours be the high honour of ridding the country of its greatest oppressor; let yours be the daring hand to stab the unsuspecting tyrant to the heart while revelling in the fancied security of his power; for until that first step be taken, naught else we can do will avail us!" ivan rose astounded, and indignant at the vile proposition; his feelings were responded to by the greater number of the most influential conspirators, at the same time that they were unwilling to damp the mad enthusiasm of others, who hesitated not in proposing violent measures; such men being but necessary tools to work out their own more moderate views. "i came here," he said, with deep emotion, "to offer my sword to the sacred cause of liberty, and not to act the abhorred part of a midnight assassin; and cursed will be the cause which requires such means to ensure its success. if such be the only resources by which liberty can be gained for russia, i here demand back my pledge; my oath forbids me to denounce any to the emperor; but i will never associate with men, who can even allow such a proposition to be made among them." he spoke proudly and dauntlessly, and, having uttered these sentiments, was about to quit the assembly, when several of the conspirators gathered round him, endeavouring to calm his agitation and anger; while others regarded him with stern and lowering glances, ready to sacrifice him to their vengeance, should he shew the least sign of betraying them. though some manifested a slight opposition to his leaving the meeting, he was nevertheless allowed to depart, by his more intimate acquaintance undertaking to answer for his fidelity. hot and eager discussions then arose, and many loudly stigmatised the vile proposition which had been made; though some still adhered to their opinion, that they were justified in any deed that would forward the great end. the debate had increased in warmth, until the conspirators formed themselves into distinct parties, when a person rushed into the assembly, consternation and dismay marked on his countenance. "my friends," he cried, "i have just made a discovery which places us all in imminent danger; for instead of ivan galetzoff, who was supposed to have been murdered, i find that it was the young count flatoff, who fell a victim to the dagger of an assassin, having in his possession the important dispatches for st. petersburg, which he had undertaken to convey thither. nothing was found about his person, when his corpse was discovered, so that there is every probability that the murderer has possessed himself of the documents. some of the count's friends here have been making inquiries for him, on finding that he had not set off, and it was thus i first suspected that he was the person found murdered. we are, therefore, completely in the power of whoever possesses those papers, for even the assassin himself would obtain pardon for the deed from the government, in return for the valuable information he can give." this announcement caused deep alarm among the conspirators, who immediately broke off their debate, to prepare for departure and separation. but what was their dismay, when on emerging from the garden, they found every avenue occupied by officers of police, and one by one as the foremost appeared, were made prisoners. the rest, seeing the fate of their friends, formed into a body, and made a desperate effort to cut their way through the guards; some succeeding; but by far the greater number fell into the hands of their enemies. those who got off fled in all directions, pursued by the police, but very few escaped. volume , chapter xiv. the young pole, thaddeus stanisloff, had been appointed to a regiment, destined to proceed with many others to join the army in the caucasus, now quartered in moscow on its way to the south. on the same day, that ivan had been driven from the chateau of the baron galetzoff, he left his home to join his regiment; taking a farewell, which he felt might too probably be the last, of his broken-hearted father, now rapidly drawing towards his end, worn out by grief and sickness. he received also the warm and cordial adieus of his generous and high-minded host. thaddeus, naturally light-hearted and gay, by the time he reached moscow, had forgotten the sorrow of parting, and was looking forward to the pleasure of again meeting his friend ivan, as, soon after dusk, he rode through the streets towards the hotel where he expected to find him; but was disappointed on hearing that he had already gone out. he immediately set forth on foot by himself, in hopes of finding him at some of their usual places of resort, when, soon after leaving the hotel, the light of a torch falling strongly on his features, a small and feminine figure, who was about to pass on, stopped to look attentively at his face, and then addressed him in a timid and agitated manner. as she looked up to speak, the veil which had before concealed her face dropt on one side, and discovered the features of the gipsy girl azila. "i meet you most fortunately," she said, "for you may be able to give assistance, where it will be much required. are you ready to meet a great danger to assist a friend?" "i should be unworthy to be called a friend, by any whom i should hesitate to aid, whatever the risk to myself," answered thaddeus. "but of whom do you speak?" "of your friend, ivan galetzoff! i have this moment been to his hotel, in the hope of warning him of an impending danger, with which i have but just become acquainted. i could not trust any other with such a communication to him; he has already gone out, and although i am too late to prevent him from encountering danger, i may yet be able to rescue him with your assistance." "that, i will gladly give at every risk," answered thaddeus. "but how am i to find him? where is he, that i may hasten to his aid?" "that, i may not tell you," answered azila; "but trust wholly in me, and i will place you where you may be ready to lend your assistance, if required." "i will trust entirely to your guidance," said thaddeus. "i knew that you were too noble to hesitate," rejoined azila, in a deep tone of gratitude. "let us then waste no more time here." "lead the way, fair lady, and i will follow," said thaddeus. "have you your weapons?" she asked, "for they may be needed." "yes, i carry my sword under my cloak." "that is well," said azila; "and now, sir, follow me closely, and promptly, or we may be too late." azila, looking back for an instant, to see that thaddeus followed, then advanced at so rapid a pace, threading her way through the intricate streets, that he could scarcely keep up without running. she crossed the river by one of the bridges, and passed through several desolate streets, where many of the houses had not yet been raised from their ashes, hurrying on, till she arrived beneath the dark shadow of a broad archway, and then paused. here she spoke to her companion, in a low earnest whisper: "i cannot lead you further, but you must consent to remain here patiently, till your assistance be called for, or until i return; as i now must hasten to summon one of my tribe, who are in the neighbourhood, to aid in your friend's escape. wrap yourself closely in your cloak, and remain concealed within this arch; keep your sword drawn for a sudden rescue, for i have reason to suppose that your friend will be set upon by assassins, as he passes near this spot. at all events, be cautious and on the alert." gliding away noiselessly from the spot, she then left thaddeus, who forthwith retired into the darkest corner, effectually concealed from any passer by, beneath the buttresses of the arch. he did not exactly comprehend by what means his friend had exposed himself to the danger, but it was sufficient for him to know that his aid was required, no matter at what risk to himself; and he determined to abide the result, whatever it might be. he was doomed to keep a long watch; straining his eyes in endeavouring to pierce through the gloom, and intently listening, to catch the sound of any approaching footstep; when suddenly he heard the sound of voices in muttered conference, apparently approaching the spot where he stood concealed. the arch, in which azila had placed thaddeus, was not the same in which groff had concealed himself, ere he perpetrated the murder of the young count flatoff, but at a short distance from it. the former would not have answered the assassin's purpose, being too far removed from the lane ivan usually passed by. this will account for thaddeus now remaining undisturbed in his concealment. "halt here, kruntz," said one voice; "this is the spot, i know it well, where i have seen this cursed youth pass so often, and i recommended our noble master to wait here for him. something has enraged the count more than ever against him, and he vows that he will not be content, until he has passed his own sword through him. he'll make sure of him, i warrant." "more sure work than you did the other night, groff," said kruntz. "what mean you?" replied groff; "what work do you speak of?" "what mean i! why the murder of count flatoff! tush, tush! comrade, think not to hide that from me, or fear that i would betray you. i suspected that you had been about some dirty work, when you came in, and i was not long in discovering the truth." "if you know it, what's the use of speaking about it," hoarsely muttered groff. "i'll not make a mistake again, trust me. we will have our revenge this time, and gain a reward. a pretty work the youth has given us, what with watching and hunting him about so long." "we ought to know each other by this time, groff, and need keep no little secrets of this sort from one another: so, no fear of my betraying you. but say, how did you manage to find out that young galetzoff is likely to pass this way?" "why, the count set me to watch all his haunts; and several times i followed him in this direction, when i suddenly lost sight of him among the garden walls; but after waiting here, i found that he again passed by, and each night he has done the same. i felt certain that it was he, when i made the mistake the other night; but i will not fail a second time, trust me; and i know that he will come, for i am sure it was he, we saw pass at dusk. ah! what is that object on the ground, kruntz? see, it moves! it is too horrid to look at!" cried groff, in a hollow, husky voice. "i see its mangled features. do you believe in ghosts, kruntz?" "ghosts--no!" answered kruntz, jeeringly; "i never saw one yet. why, what's the matter, man? you are not wont to tremble. rouse yourself, groff: be a man. why, what is there to care for, if you did put a wrong man out of the way; you are not the first who has done so." "it is well for you to laugh, kruntz, who have no feelings; but if you had seen the horrible sight that appeared to me just now, you would have trembled." "nonsense, man," said his companion, "it was all your fancy; and now get rid of such ideas, for here comes some one. be prepared!" thaddeus heard nearly every word of this conversation; and becoming much alarmed for the safety of his friend, stood ready to rush out to his assistance, for he fancied that through the gloom he saw him approaching. as the footsteps drew near, the voice of the count erintoff was heard: "hist, hist! what, knaves, are you there? kruntz, groff, answer!" the men who had been concealed by the arch, stepped forward as they heard their master's voice. "has the person i told you to watch for appeared, or have you again let him escape you, villains?" "no, count," answered kruntz: "no fear of that. i owe him a broken head, and i don't forget my debts. i should like to catch his friend, the other young fellow; i would pay him off all old scores." "hush, knaves!" said the count. "listen, some one approaches: be prepared to rush out. it is he!" a footstep was heard. thaddeus grasped his sword more firmly--his heart beat high, as he stood ready to spring from his hiding-place. the person had reached the spot. it was ivan; for the count and his servants sprung out upon him, and attacked him furiously. "yield; you are my prisoner!" exclaimed the count, making a pass with his sword at ivan's breast, though, fortunately, not so rapidly but that he had time to spring aside, and draw his own weapon, with which he had provided himself since azila's warning; this enabled him to parry a second thrust made at him. "rescue! ivan! here's rescue, my friend!" cried thaddeus, darting forward, most unexpectedly, and beating down the swords of the two servants, who attempted to oppose him. "what means this assassin-like attack?" he was met by groff and kruntz, who had recovered from their surprise in a moment, and now turned upon him with their whole united strength, while their master pressed ivan hard. "yield!" again exclaimed the count, "you are a traitor to russia, and have joined in a dark conspiracy against her laws." these words urged ivan to defend himself with greater determination; and returning the count's attack with the utmost vigour, the latter would have fallen a victim to his own nefarious plot, had he not called kruntz to his aid. left to engage thaddeus single-handed, groff now attacked him with such blind fury, that he left his own person exposed; while his opponent, anxious to lend his aid to ivan, who was now so unequally beset, did his utmost to disarm him. failing in this attempt, he made a lunge to terminate the contest, and his sword passed through the body of his adversary, who fell, with scarcely a groan, to the earth. in the meantime, ivan had defended himself successfully from his determined assailants; but just as his friend turned to his aid, his foot slipped, and the count observing the movement, passed his sword through his side. thaddeus soon succeeded in disarming kruntz, whirling his sword, by superior fence, out of his hand, and over the adjoining wall, when the ruffian, instead of assisting his master, turned and fled. before the latter had time to follow up his advantage, by a second and more effectual wound on ivan, he was vigorously assailed by thaddeus, who, pressing him back to relieve his friend, disarmed him likewise; but, retreating behind a projecting buttress, the count baffled his pursuing adversary, and being well acquainted with the different intricate windings, he succeeded in effecting his escape. retracing his steps, thaddeus rejoined his friend, at the moment when the latter, returning to consciousness from the effects of his hurt, attempted to raise himself from the earth. bending down by his side, he proceeded to bind up his wound, and as ivan recognised him, he exclaimed: "fly, thaddeus, fly! for treachery and danger surround us: there is not a moment for explanations; but i beseech you to fly instantly, or you will be involved in my ruin." "never could i leave you thus," replied thaddeus. "lean on me for support, and perhaps we may yet have time to escape." "thanks for your generous aid," said ivan; "but i fear escape is impossible; i feel too much hurt to walk, and you would inevitably be overtaken: for be assured, that the count has but retreated to call the police, without whose aid he first trusted to satiate his revenge. i know too well, by the words he uttered, that i am completely in his power, through secret information he has gained." at that moment, a light footstep was heard approaching, and a female form appeared, whom thaddeus recognised as azila. a cry escaped her as she beheld ivan hurt and on the ground; when, throwing herself beside him, she assisted thaddeus in supporting his wounded friend. "alas!" she cried, "unhappy i am that i should have arrived too late to prevent this calamity; but i have friends on their way who may still be of service." "thanks, fair girl," said ivan, raising himself with their assistance, "i will exert myself; but first, persuade my friend to save himself by flight, for his stay here can but subject him to great peril, without affording me further aid." "he speaks but too truly," said azila, turning to thaddeus. "it were, indeed, madness to remain, and so offer another sacrifice to the count's revenge; for believe me, your friend has been betrayed by that dastard, count erintoff, and has incurred the rigour of the most tyrannical laws. fly, therefore, while you have time, before the police are upon us, when your uniform alone would betray you; fear not for your friend, his safety will be cared for." thaddeus still refused to desert his friend, in spite of the latter's persuasions; when, as she spoke, lights were seen to glimmer in the distance. "fly, fly, thaddeus! my dear friend!" cried ivan: "see, the police are approaching, and you will but involve yourself in my misfortunes. and you, lady, leave me to my fate; your safety is also perilled if you are discovered." "i will not quit you, sir; i have nothing to fear," answered azila. "ah!" she exclaimed, "the great spirit is merciful!" as, at that moment, two dark forms emerged from the opposite direction to that in which the lights had appeared, and towards which she had constantly been directing an inquiring glance. "these are my friends, and may yet be in time to save you." two men then approached, to whom she spoke in her own language, and instantly they raised ivan gently from the ground, and bore him rapidly in the direction whence they had come. azila led the way in silence. thaddeus followed, and he was happy to find that their distance, from the lights carried by the police, evidently increased. the fugitives continued their way for some time, along the dark and narrow lanes, amid the ruined buildings we have already described, and with which azila seemed perfectly acquainted; never for a moment hesitating which path to take, among the numerous turnings. they at length paused in front of a huge pile of buildings equally dilapidated, looming still larger and darker in the gloom through which they were seen. their guide passing beneath a low covered way, followed by the rest of the party, struck a sharp blow on a small door, scarcely distinguishable from the masonry which surrounded it. it was opened without a moment's delay; the party entered, and after descending a few steps, thaddeus found himself in a small vaulted chamber. the door was carefully closed behind them, and a decrepit old man made his appearance, bearing a lamp in his hand, with which he scrutinised each individual on entering. the two athletic gipsies now placed their wounded burthen on a low pallet which stood at one end of the vault, when azila thus addressed the old man: "father! i am come to entreat your succour for one in distress, who has escaped from the police now in full search of him. while here, he would, you know, be in safety." "daughter," answered the old man, "i would refuse you nothing. i will do my utmost for the youth's safety; but who is this other? an officer too! what does he here?" "he is a friend of the wounded man, and would not quit him, though at great danger to himself," answered azila. "ere the morn dawns, he must be from hence. but now that you have granted us your hospitality, father, we must attend to your wounded guest." it was indeed time, as from the exertion ivan had undergone, his wound bled afresh; the old man, however, produced salves and linen to apply to it; but his hands trembled with the feebleness of age as he performed the operation, assisted by thaddeus. "ay, ay, i have bound up many wounds in my day, and thought to have long ago departed for that place where there will be none to cure. god's will be done!" ivan had just strength to express his thanks, and fell back exhausted. in the mean time, azila had dispatched the two men to watch the direction taken by the police, and to bring back word, as soon as it would be safe for thaddeus to venture on his return to the city. she then took her seat by the side of ivan's humble couch, watching each movement of his pallid face, while thaddeus was seated opposite, and their old host busied himself in producing various articles of refreshment, including a flask of wine; a small quantity of which considerably revived ivan. the old man kept moving about, and muttering to himself, but bestowing few words on the strangers. after a considerable time, the scouts came back to report that the road was clear; the police having returned to their posts in despair that their prey had escaped. "it is now time for you to depart, sir," said azila, addressing thaddeus, "for longer delay here would be hazardous, while your friend, trust me, will be carefully attended to. one of these men will be your guide, till you reach a part of the city known to you." as at these words thaddeus rose to depart, ivan exclaimed: "adieu, my generous friend! i know not when we may next meet, for all around me looks dark, and lowering; but something within tells me, that i shall yet surmount all difficulties. our courses, i fear, however, must be widely different; yours is clear before you, though i sincerely wish that you would follow mine. you shake your head. well, well, i cannot now urge you to do as i wish; but i will take care to apprise you of my movements, and perchance we may some day again meet in happier circumstances." after expressing his thanks to azila, thaddeus followed one of the gipsies, who conducted him at a rapid place, till they arrived at a part of the city with which he was familiar; when the man pointing to the direction he was to take, disappeared without waiting for an answer; and the young pole soon after reached his lodgings in safety. volume , chapter xv. a gentle and refreshing slumber stole over ivan's senses, banishing from his mind all remembrance of the cares and dangers surrounding him, as he lay on his couch, watched over by the vigilant care of azila. he had been undisturbed in his place of refuge for several hours, when he suddenly started in his sleep, aroused by a singular and hurried knocking at the door. azila hastened towards it, as the old man, slowly rising from his seat, had begun, with muttered grumblings, to undo the fastenings. "in mercy, father, let him not in," said azila, "whoever it may be! he may bring ruin on your guest. oh! bid him seek shelter, or whatever he may want, elsewhere." "ay, that i would, with a pestilence on mankind, who are for ever worrying me," muttered the old man; "but my oath--my oath compels me. i may refuse admittance to none who make the sign." again the knocking was repeated, as the old man, having finished his task of unbarring, opened the door, and a man pale as death, his dress torn and disordered, sword in hand, rushed into the vault. "hide me--hide me, father!" he exclaimed. "all is lost; many are taken, some slain, and all dispersed; and even now the police are in pursuit of me." the old man peered into the face of the new comer to identify him, and as if to ask for an explanation of what had happened; while the stranger, on his part, looked with surprise at seeing azila and ivan already occupants of the vault. he was, however, recognised as one of the conspirators, as he threw himself exhausted on a stone bench. "what means this agitation?" said ivan, as the person recognised him; "what means this alarm? for i scarcely heard the words you spoke as you entered." "alas!" answered the conspirator, "our noble enterprise has been discovered before all was fully prepared, and is now utterly and for ever overthrown. no sooner had the meeting broke up, than, as we were separating, we found the police gathering in strong force round all the entrances to the garden. no time was to be lost, many of our friends had already been seized, when i, with others, made a desperate rush through one of the avenues, less strongly guarded than the others; some of us escaping, favoured by the darkness, and our knowledge of the situation; and fear giving swiftness to my feet, i distanced all pursuers, and hastened hither. yet, at one time, i heard my enemies following close behind me; but they lost sight of me among the lanes which lead to this spot. had the assembly broken up sooner, we should have escaped for this night, as the police had but just begun to arrive at the place, to which some of the party must have been traced by spies, or some foul treachery has been at work. i had a narrow escape; but i had no fear when once i got outside, for i knew that you, father, would shelter me." "ay, ay," muttered the old man, "at the risk of suffering the knout again, and being sent back in chains to siberia, if they discovered who i was. i have had enough of that already; but fear not, i will not betray you, and it will be long before the knaves find out my den; or should the worst happen, here is a place they would find it difficult to discover:--therefore, should the police come here, you must conceal yourself within." at those words, he removed what appeared a large ill-shapen slab, or rather block of stone, in the wall, but which turned on well-made hinges, and disclosed within, a recess or small chamber ventilated by an aperture in the roof. it had evidently been formed with great labour and perseverance for the purpose it was now to be put to, and was capable of containing three or more persons without inconvenience. "if the police discover us here, your wounded friend must also take refuge within this place; and they will have more wit than i give them credit for, if they espy him. hark! i hear footsteps; surely none can have betrayed me. if so, all is lost." scarcely were the words uttered, than a thundering attack of blows was heard at the door, and a voice loudly demanding admittance in the name of the emperor. the conspirator turned pale with terror, and rushed towards the entrance of the concealed chamber. "stay," said azila, "would you leave your wounded comrade to perish, while you secure your own retreat? first place him in safety, and all will be well; fear not, for i will soon manage to get rid of our unwelcome visitors." ivan thanked her with a look of gratitude, as the conspirator, following her directions, with the feeble aid of the old man, lifted him through the narrow aperture, and laid him on some straw hastily thrown together; when azila, carefully closing the entrance, prepared to receive the emissaries of justice. she threw a cloak over her head and shoulders, so as completely to cover her form and features, busying herself over the fire, as if watching some culinary operation, while the old man employed himself in slowing unbarring the door, muttering and growling as if just aroused from sleep. a second and more impatient summons made him hasten to withdraw the bolts, when the door flew open, almost knocking him down, and a party of the police rushed into the vault, but started back confounded, on beholding who were its sole occupants. azila's watchful eye marked the servant of count erintoff--the ruffian kruntz, among the party. "well, i could have sworn," said the man; "that i saw some person enter here not a quarter of an hour ago; and i know that he could not have again escaped without my seeing him." "this is strange," said the leader of the police, "we must question the old man, if he has sense enough to understand us. here, old man! has any one lately left this mansion of yours?" "few come to visit one overcome with age and infirmities, who dwells in a dark vault where the light of day scarcely enters," said the hermit; "no, no! they leave me alone to die in peace and quiet, it is all i require. what is it that you desire of me, gentlemen? can i do aught to serve you? i have, indeed, little to offer!" "cease your prating, old man!" said the officer, "and listen to what i say. a foul plot has just been discovered, and some of the conspirators have taken refuge in this neighbourhood. now harken! i am not to be trifled with: you, old man, know somewhat of them." "woe is the day, that such things should be!" cried the old man. "look around--see! none are here; there must be some mistake." "we shall prove it," exclaimed the police officer, who, exasperated at the chance of his prey escaping him, produced a thick leathern thong, with which he struck the aged hermit a violent blow across the shoulders; "this will refresh your wits and ideas perchance. say! can'st thou now remember, old knave; or must another blow yet revive you?" "i cannot speak more than the truth," said the old man, meekly, and bowing before the petty tyrant, too well accustomed to such deeds. "your stripes can draw no more than the truth from me, i know not of whom you speak." "is it so!" cried the officer, now growing furious at his disappointment, and having strong suspicions that he had, in some way, been deceived. "we shall see what efficacy there is in leather to draw the truth from you," aiming at the same time several more blows at the old man, which made him shrink down cowering before the barbarian, though he uttered no words of complaint, nor could the slightest information be elicited from him. since the entrance of the myrmidons of police, azila had kept her seat apparently unnoticed, bending down her head before the fire, her cloak concealing her features so effectually that none could know them; at the same time keeping a watchful eye on those whose presence caused such risk to ivan's safety; hoping that a woman's wit, in case of necessity, would lead them astray. she now, however, could no longer contain her indignation at the cowardly assault by the police officer on the defenceless and decrepit old man, for, suddenly rising from her seat, she boldly confronted the tyrant. drawing herself up to her full height, and assuming a look of proud disdain, she thus addressed the brutal ruffian: "dastardly tyrant, can you not find some nobler object to vent your unjust rage upon, and to display your power, than yonder decrepit old man? perchance you may deem a weak and helpless woman a fitter subject for the exercise of your proud prerogative, if so--strike! fear not! i can bear as much as that infirm old man--perchance more. what! are you afraid? then order some of your myrmidons to begin the attack; do they also lack courage? oh! most brave and noble band to fear an old man, and young woman! go your way then, if you have no better errand--or search here first, for what you want!" the rough natures of the men were awed by the majestic air, and authoritative manner of azila, for they drew back to the entrance of the cavern; while their leader foamed with rage at finding himself baffled by a young girl; but he meditated revenge. azila had shewn much tact in drawing off the officer's anger from the old man to herself, and then working him into a fury, and increasing it so as to confuse his faculties, and prevent him from making a stricter search, when the retreat of the two conspirators might by chance have been discovered. her plan had well nigh succeeded, and the officer was preparing to depart, when something seemed to strike him as left undone, and turning to the old man, he seized him roughly by the shoulder demanding his name; the latter hesitating to give this at once, brought upon himself a fresh shower of blows. "stay--stay your hand!" cried he, "do you demand my name? alas! my memory is so bad that i can scarcely remember it; but i am called orenoff, and i live here on the charity which a few people, whose hearts are not yet turned to stone, bestow on me. my heart has undergone a like fate, else i could not bear your treatment." while the old man was babbling away in this strain, the officer made notes on paper, and presently turning to azila, said: "now, madam, you must give me some account of yourself, or else prepare to follow me. what do you here?" "i answer your questions," replied azila, "because forsooth, it pleases me to do so. i came then to attend yonder weak, sick old man, and to bring him food and medicine, for he has none other to attend him." "whence do you come, then?" demanded the officer. "from a noble and charitable lady," said azila; "and perchance it may occur to your wisdom, that it was my cloak, which was seen entering the vault, and which your spies took for one of the conspirators!" "if you can give no better account of yourself than this, you must accompany me forthwith," said the officer. "but, should it not be my pleasure to leave, you may experience some difficulty in compelling me," replied azila. the officer smiled grimly, and was stepping forward to seize her slight figure, which could indeed have offered but a slight resistance to his grasp, when she exclaimed: "stand aside, and touch me at your peril!" producing at the same time a paper from her bosom. "know you that signature?" she said. "go your way, and leave this old man to rest, who is too ill and infirm to move hence, and learn in future to exercise your bravery on objects capable of self-defence." the police officer, with an abashed and scowling look, now prepared to depart; still however shewing some hesitation, as if doubtful of acting wisely; but a significant wave of azila's hand, decided him to order his men to withdraw, when they, glad to escape, soon made their exit through the narrow doorway of the vault, followed by their leader. as their footsteps were heard receding, the old man hastened to close the door, but was checked by azila. "no, father," she said, "let them not suppose that we have aught to conceal, by manifesting haste to shut them out, or they may perhaps return and renew their search, although i think their brutal leader would rather not attempt it." some minutes accordingly elapsed, ere the door was again closed and barred. while this scene was taking place, ivan's feelings may be better conceived than described, as he lay concealed with his companion in their narrow cell; first, on hearing the entrance of the police, and their treatment of the old man, and again when their leader threatened to seize azila. at first he felt inclined to rush out, and at all risks to arrest the barbarian, but the pain of his wound recalled him to timely reason, and he reflected that the act would not only sacrifice his companion and himself, but also indeed doubly commit his aged host and azila. the maiden appeared at the entrance of the cell, soon after the police had withdrawn, and addressing its inmates, said: "for the present, i trust you are safe, but i cannot answer for how long a time you may remain so, as the police will yet keep a watch on this place. i should advise, you, sir, who are strong and able to seek safety elsewhere, to retire from hence as soon as i can ascertain that the road be clear; i am even confident, that they will return here again before long. are you ready to depart?" "yes, yes," replied the conspirator, "i would rather trust myself to the dangers of the open streets, than run the risk of being taken here, like a fox in his hole; but it will be a perilous undertaking to run the gauntlet through the bands of the lynx-eyed police. can i serve my friend, galetzoff? and shall i not leave him in greater danger?" "fear not for him, leave him to my charge," answered azila, "and now, be ready to fly hence on my return. i will learn from those on the watch if all be safe." the maiden departed, the old man closing the door with the utmost caution, while the conspirator pressed ivan's hand, bidding him farewell, and stood ready to sally forth on her return. she soon came back, assuring him that none of the police were to be seen in the neighbourhood; with hurried and anxious look, he then rushed forth to reach a safer refuge. the door was now again secured with bar and bolt. assuming the same bashful and retiring manner as before, when in ivan's presence, so different from her usual free and independent bearing, when in discourse with others, azila addressed the wounded youth-- "i must now leave you for a while," she said, "for i go to seek means to enable you to escape hence, in safety, to the tents of my people, where your wound will be quickly healed, and you may dwell until you gain strength to fly from the country. until my return, i confide you to the care of an old and tried friend, and a trusty guard watches outside, who will give immediate notice of the slightest danger." then making her usual oriental obeisance, she withdrew towards the door, lingering to cast one look on her patient; and before he had time to express his thanks, she had quitted the vault. ivan was left in the recess, the entrance being open, while his aged host prepared himself for slumber on a pallet in a corner of the vault; he followed the latter's example, although every passing sound aroused him. the remainder of the night waned, no fresh event occurring to disturb the occupants of the dreary vault. no sooner had a few streaks of morning found ingress through the crevices of the walls, than the old man arose from his uneasy couch, and after tendering his services to ivan, proceeded to prepare a morning meal. this considerably revived his wounded guest, though the pain he suffered had not diminished. still the very recollection of his narrow escape gave him hopes for the future, and he looked forward with eagerness to the time when his present confinement would cease, and he should again breathe the pure air of heaven in unrestrained liberty. occupied with these thoughts, he passed the remainder of the day, anxiously awaiting azila's return. volume , chapter xvi. the principal place of resort of that singular race of people, the zingani, or gipsies, or as they universally call themselves the rommany; of whom there are several thousands in and about moscow; is the marina rochte, lying about two versts distant from the city. most of these people obtain their livelihood in moscow, either by keeping taverns, or by dealing in horses and by various other like kinds of traffic, bearing in general but an indifferently good character. the class, however, to which we now allude, are of the lowest order; whose females sing at the taverns and different public gardens in the neighbourhood, and are not of the best repute, as to modesty of behaviour. here they congregate in great numbers, their countenances resembling those of their race who are to be met with in england; of brown complexions, and for the most part having beautiful and regular features; their eyes fiery and intelligent; their hair, somewhat coarse, of coal black hue; and all having the same free and independent bearing. there is, however, another class of zingani, whose very existence will surprise those who have been accustomed to consider these people as mere wandering barbarians, incapable of civilisation, and unable to appreciate the blessings of a quiet and settled life; for many of them inhabit large and handsome houses in moscow, appear abroad in elegant equipages, and are scarcely to be distinguished from the upper classes of the russians, unless, indeed by possessing superior personal advantages and mental accomplishments. of this singular social phenomenon at moscow, the female gipsies are the principal cause, having from time immemorial cultivated their vocal powers, with such effect, that although in the heart of a country in which the vocal art has arrived at a greater perfection than perhaps in any other part of the world, the principal gipsy choirs in that city are, by universal consent, allowed to be unrivalled. the sums obtained by these singers, are very large, enabling them to live in luxury of every description, and to maintain their husbands in almost princely magnificence. many are married to russian gentlemen of consideration. the lovely, talented, and domestic wife of a count, well-known in the highest, circles of moscow, is by birth a gipsy, and was formerly the chief pride of a rommany choir at moscow, as she is now one of the principal ornaments of refined society. in no other part of the world do the gipsies flourish as they do in russia, affording a great contrast to the wretched hordes steeped in penury and vice, who infest the peninsula; and to the low thieving trampers of england and scotland, existing by petty pillage; such bands often being indeed but a collection of the lowest vagabonds of every description intermingled with the original race. there are many opinions as to the land from whence the zingani have sprung; it is generally supposed, that they originally came from hindostan, being of the lowest class of indians, called suders, or those who have lost caste; that they migrated from thence in great numbers in , when timour beg ravaged india, to spread with fire and sword the tenets of the mahomedan religion. it seems probable that in their way towards egypt, where we first hear of them, that they resided for a time in the country called zinganen, at the mouth of the indus, from whence they may perhaps have gained the name of zingani. by what route they reached egypt from thence, is not known, but they had fixed themselves there in great numbers in , when sultan selim conquered the country. they revolted from his rule, under a leader who has assumed the name of zinganeus, probably from being chosen chief of that people; but were completely worsted, being again compelled to seek safety in flight, and made their appearance in europe in large bands about the year . some of their leaders, who with their followers found their way to the northern parts of europe, called themselves dukes and lords of lower egypt, endeavouring to impose on the people, among whom they came, with pretentions of rank and dignity; in this, however, they were not very successful, soon sinking into a class considered no better than rogues and vagabonds. in russia, on the contrary, among an ignorant and barbarous population, their various talents and acuteness enabled them to sustain a superior station; nor have they, at any time, been there subject to the persecutions and indignities which they have had to endure in other countries of europe. though some, as we have said, have taken up their abode in cities, others still retain their primitive and wandering habits, living in tents; and roving from place to place, as may suit their fancy; or as they find it convenient to carry on the pursuits by which they exist. the tribe or family to which azila belonged, was under the guidance of a sagacious leader, and was compelled by him to refrain from all marauding habits. though the zingani chief was possessed of considerable wealth, he was of too free and independent a disposition to confine himself to the trammels and restraint of the social life of a city, preferring the more varied and roving existence enjoyed in a camp. he had, however, numerous connexions of every rank in the city; among the most superior of whom, his daughter azila, had in truth been educated, and when her own inclinations led her to return to her father's camp, she was still regarded by them with the greatest affection; and it was by their aid, assisted by her own talent and penetration, that she was able to collect the varied information, which as we have seen, was of so much importance to the conspirators. it is towards the close of one of the few bright and balmy days which cheer the hearts of the russians in their short-lived summer, that we must again introduce our readers to the camp of our friend, the zingani chief. it had lately been pitched on the confines of a wood, at a short distance from marina rochte; and it was evident, from fewer people than usual being seen about the encampments, that many had joined their brethren in the village, to enjoy their constant amusements of dancing, singing, and other sports. at a short distance from the tented circle, the zingani chief was slowly pacing the grass, with his arms crossed on his bosom, and lost in thought. at length he soliloquised aloud: "this is the baneful effect of departing from our ancient laws and customs, by taking part in the affairs of the people with whom we dwell; losing our freedom and independence, by becoming subject to their cruel and unjust laws. ought not i to have prevented that loved girl from trammelling herself with the affairs of others, who would show but little gratitude for her exertions, even if successful; and now too, probably, she herself may be in danger: and if so, what resource have i but to declare her parentage. that would save her: but the so doing would bring ruin on one who still lives. if she falls into the power of the tyrannical dispensers of the law, her fate would be dreadful. should i not then save her? yes, i must, even at the expense of the oath i so thoughtlessly took. it provided not for such an emergency. it must be done; and even thus, it would well nigh break my heart to part from her; to see her subject to all the deceit and treachery to which her station would expose her--to see her free-born spirit oppressed by the strict rules and absurd etiquette of society; to see her governed by one who could not appreciate her qualities, and shrinking before his stern and savage glance; confined too within walls, and no longer allowed to wander in free and unrestrained liberty. and yet, some will say that i am acting wrongly; that i am depriving her of the enjoyment of luxuries and of wealth, which are her due. fools-- fools! who value worthless gold, outward pomp, and idle, debilitating effeminacy, to health, and the free air of heaven." as he again turned, he saw the object of his thoughts approaching, at a quick pace, from the direction of the city. azila appeared hurried and eager in manner; and after holding a short conference with her father, they entered together within the circle of tents. the gipsy chief then summoned round him the men who yet remained in the encampment--persons in whom he could place the utmost reliance in cases of emergency. "men of rommany!" he said, addressing them in that style of language which they most love to hear, "there is an arduous and dangerous task to be performed, which will require the utmost sagacity and care. i have, therefore, summoned you around me, to select one who will swear to undertake it; but whoever offers himself, must know, that he risks his liberty, and perhaps his life." as he finished speaking, a youth stepped forward from the circle of his companions, exclaiming: "i am ready to undertake whatever you propose, if it be within the power of man!" the keen, lustrous, dark eye; handsome and intelligent countenance; and well-knit limbs of the youth, were powerful recommendations in his favour; and the chief, without hesitation, selected him. "i well know that i can trust you," said the chief; "the task will require all your sagacity and courage. its main object is to ensure the freedom of the young stranger. but remember, javis, that if your attempt be discovered, chains, imprisonment, and banishment, will infallibly be your lot: and for your reward, if you succeed, the utmost i can give, are my own and azila's grateful thanks. more she cannot give," he added, as a blush rose, for a moment, on the youth's dark cheek. "i ask not for reward," answered the youth. "it is but a debt of gratitude each man of the tribe owes to the young stranger; and i should be base if i were not ready to pay it: i will save him, or perish in the attempt." "i trust you fully, javis," said the chief; "and now we will call azila to our conference." he beckoned his daughter to approach; and for a considerable time they held an earnest consultation together. as they finished speaking, a boy ran in, to inform the chief that a stranger was approaching the encampment. "i will speak with him," said the chief. in a few minutes the boy returned, accompanied by a peasant, whose weary and sorrowful appearance seemed to demand compassion. "who are you?" said the chief, eyeing him narrowly, and apparently satisfied with his scrutiny. "who are you, who come uninvited among the people of rommany? what do you seek with us?" "if you are the person i take you to be, you shall presently know," answered the peasant; "tell me, are you not that kind, honest gipsy, who was once very civil to my master; my poor young master, whom i have been seeking all over the city, and can hear nothing of. alas! alas! i fear that he is in great peril." "who is your master?" asked the gipsy; "when i know that, i may perhaps answer some of your questions." "my poor young master," replied the peasant, who proved to be our old friend karl, "is the son of baron galetzoff. well, i was sent to moscow to-day, and venturing to pay a visit to my young lord, i heard that he had disappeared, nobody knows where. i have been seeking for him all day, in every place i could think of, and have now come to ask you, if you know any thing of him?" "it is not my custom to answer the questions of those whom i do not know," said the gipsy. "tell me, how came you to suppose, that i could tell you any thing of your master?" "why, for this reason," said karl; "i once heard my poor young master, and his friend thaddeus stanisloff, speak of a zingani chief, who had promised to assist them, if they got into any difficulties. well, as i was wandering about, and looking in search of my master, i saw some of the rommany people; and i bethought me that i would come out here, and learn if their chief was in the neighbourhood, and if he knew any thing of my dear master." "well, my good friend," said the gipsy, who was pleased with poor karl's simplicity and sincerity, "go back now to the city, and say not a word more of your master; but return here to-morrow, at day-break, and be careful that you are unobserved, and perhaps you may then see him." "thanks, most kind and worthy sir," answered karl, "you have made my heart light and happy again." he then took his leave, as desired, and returned to moscow; where, as he was wandering about, looking into various shops, to pass the time, he met an acquaintance, to whom he could not resist giving the gratifying intelligence, that he had heard of his young master, the son of the baron galetzoff, as he still persisted in calling ivan. he did not observe that a stranger was standing within ear-shot, at the time; but he soon found, to his cost, the effects of his thoughtless communication; for, within, an hour, he was seized by some of the police, and dragged immediately before a magistrate. he was at first mildly interrogated respecting ivan, in the hope of extracting some voluntary information from him. the magistrate then pressed him more severely, but discovered that the prisoner was a most difficult subject to exert his authority upon, and when sternly ordered to confess all he knew, he stoutly denied ever having received any information of the person in question. unfortunately, however, for poor karl, his perseverance was of no avail to himself, for his acquaintance, who had confessed all he knew, was confronted with him. another person was found, who proved that he was a serf of the baron galetzoff, and consequently must have known the son of that noble. his denial was therefore of no further service to him, and the next day, he was ordered before a criminal court then sitting, where for his contumacy in refusing to answer any questions, he was condemned forthwith to receive the punishment of the knout. poor karl turned pale when he heard his sentence pronounced, but his courage did not forsake him, and he determined to undergo any torture, rather than betray his young master. he was dragged off, therefore, to receive his punishment, with two other criminals convicted of heinous crimes, and whose pallid countenances and trembling limbs, betokened their dread of the coming torture. the place of execution and punishment is in an open space, outside one of the barriers of the city; and there a mob of skin-clad labourers and peasants had collected, as they saw the prisoners approach, conducted by their guards and the officers, whose duty it was to see that punishment was duly inflicted. even in russia, the executioner or palatch, as he is called, is looked upon with the same opprobrium and dislike as in most other countries, and he is always some criminal, still considered as a prisoner, but lodges by himself in a solitary house outside the gates of the city. instances have occurred of criminals actually refusing the odious office, preferring, rather than undertake its cruel duties, the weary and toilsome journey to siberia, with all the miseries and wretchedness incident to it, and an eternal banishment from their country. the palatch, on the present occasion, was a criminal sentenced for life to hard labour in the siberian mines for murder. the mere appearance of this man, bespoke that savage disposition, which could find gratification in the exercise of his horrid occupation. underneath his red tangled locks, a scowling forehead protruded, exhibiting beneath his rough eye-brows, a pair of bleared eyes; a flattish, turned up nose, was the only other feature to be seen on his face, his mouth being concealed by a mass of grizzly red hair, which covered the lower part of his face. even the yoke-necked, slavish multitude, set up a shout of disgust, as the hated inflictor of cruelty appeared; but he seemed callous to their feelings, commencing the preparations for his loathsome office, with cool indifference. the two real criminals were to suffer first, all three being stationed ready for punishment, in a conspicuous place. the first culprit was placed before an upright board, shaped like an inverted cone; in the upper or broad end of which are hollowed out three notches, the middle one being contrived to receive the neck of the culprit, and the other two the arms, which are securely bound; the legs being fastened to the bottom of the board. the upper part of the body is then stripped quite bare. these preparations being completed, the brutal executioner flourishes the knout round his head, and with tremendous force it descends on the back of the victim, horribly lacerating the flesh. the handle of the knout, is a thick stick eighteen inches long, to the end of which is fastened a twisted thong of leather, twice the length of the stick; and to the end of the thong again, there is a copper ring, through which is passed, with a slip knot, a double strap of leather, an inch broad near the ring, and tapering to a point near the running end; the straps being boiled in milk, to swell and harden them. poor karl looked at this formidable weapon, in the hands of the executioner, with feelings of the most intense hatred; but even the shrieks of his precursors in suffering, as the lash descended on their backs, did not make him waver in his constancy. he was doomed to a still greater trial; for just before it became his turn to suffer, he heard a voice, calling out his name, proceeding apparently from a telga, which, with some others, had just left the gates of the city, and was quickly passing by. he turned round for an instant; and a glance of pleasure lit up his countenance, as he fancied that he recognised the voice: but instantly recollecting himself, he again hung down his head, and appeared to observe nothing around him, till the telga had driven rapidly away. at length he was also lashed up for punishment; but he uttered not a groan, until nature almost gave way before the executioner had finished his hideous work, which he seemed to go through with greater zest, from the practice he had already had; as the wild beast, which has once tasted human blood, feels insatiate until he has gorged himself with it. karl knew that at one moment he might have saved himself the torture inflicted upon him; but he willingly suffered without a complaint--a true specimen of the russian national character, displaying sturdy fidelity and passive endurance, without an expectation or hope of reward. as yet, he had not half expiated the crime he was charged with, and justice still retained him in her clutches. he was carried back to prison till his wounds were healed, at which period he was compelled to serve the emperor as a soldier. the constant draft, which an unhealthy climate and the circassian sabres made in the army of the caucasus, necessitated the frequent incorporation of criminals in its ranks. with manacles on his hands and feet, he was marched off with others, formed into large bands, containing many volunteers, who were, however, treated in the same way, to prevent their escaping, lest they should change their minds. karl knew that it was useless to complain; and as he was of a contented and happy disposition, not much addicted to thinking, he determined to make the best of his lot. fortunately for themselves, his companions also were blind to the hardships and miseries they would probably be compelled to undergo; although thus loaded like culprits with heavy chains, they passed their time in singing and laughter. as they marched on, their shouts of merriment rose to the skies, amid the clank of their chains, as if to mock the cruelty of their oppressors: the poor wretches being entirely ignorant of the blessings of freedom, and incapable of feeling their degradation, perhaps even incapacitated for thought! such are now the only people in europe who can securely be governed by despotism; and such are the senseless tools with which the mighty czar of russia works out his imperial will. what care they how many freemen they bring to a like state of bondage as their own? the yoke has so long pressed on their necks, that they heed not its galling weight; but like the patient oxen, they are content to be goaded on to their work, at their master's will. this vast, soulless engine, is indeed of tremendous force; and has but too often been used to crush and overwhelm freedom, and to plant the banner of tyranny amid lands, where the flag of liberty has hitherto waved bright and unsullied. volume , chapter xvii. it was towards the close of the day, when a young and active peasant, who, contrary to the usual character of his class, was rather intelligent-looking, was slowly driving a small telga or wagon, filled apparently with hides and merchandise, at the end of a bye-way or narrow lane, at a point where it joined one of the principal roads leading from the south towards moscow. observing a cloud of dust rising in the distance, in a southerly direction, he drew up his telga, anxious to ascertain the cause of it. he presently found it to proceed from a long train of wagons, about twenty in number, mostly drawn by oxen, but others, of the same description as the vehicle he himself drove, drawn by horses. the drivers of the wagons were short, ugly-looking fellows, with sandy moustaches and beards, black woolly caps, sheep-skin jackets, the woolly side next the skin. many of them were half asleep on the tops of their vehicles, trusting to the sagacity of their beasts; but it was now time to rouse themselves into activity, for they were approaching the end of their journey, on which perhaps they had come several hundred miles. moscow, their bourne, was at hand. the young peasant joined in the line of the caravan, driving between the carts as if apparently he belonged to their party. laughter and joking soon arose among the easily pleased wagoners, caused by his jests and stories; and, searching, under the hides which covered his cart, he produced a case of vodka, and a glass, which he filled with the much-prized liquor, handing it about to the people nearest to him. by this means, and from time to time also singing a song, he soon won all their hearts; the russian peasants being as passionately fond of music, as they are addicted to vodka. "jump up, my friend," said he to one of the men trudging along-side, "you will find a better seat here than in your own wagon." the man readily complied, and the young peasant began to ply him with a number of questions. in this way he learned that they were to remain only one day to rest their cattle, and to start on the following morning for the south. the information seemed to give him much satisfaction; and he intimated to his new friends, that he should wish to enter the city as one of their party, and to return at the same time with them, reminding them that he should not forget to fill his can of vodka. the lofty towers, and polished domes of moscow now appeared in sight; and being allowed to pass the gates without hindrance, the caravan proceeded to the part of the city where that class of people chiefly congregate: the young peasant acting in every way like the rest of the party. after dark, however, giving his telga in charge to one of the wagoners, whom he had more particularly made his friend, he sallied forth into the still crowded and bustling streets, meeting parties of pleasure returning from the gardens in the neighbourhood. rich nobles driving from one gay scene of dissipation to another; the military returning from relieving guard; drunken men of all classes, reeling home, attempting to support each other as they tottered against the door-posts; none of them, however, joining in bacchanalian songs, as in england and other countries; for the russian, though a careless, light-hearted being, when sober, becomes when overpowered with liquor, a surly, morose animal, with all his worst passions aroused, and having no pretensions to enjoyment. this is too common a scene in russia; but we should rather pity than blame such slavish beings, sunk so low in apathetic ignorance, and who are never taught to respect themselves. the peasant seemed well acquainted with the city; for without once deviating from his course, he quickly threaded its intricate streets. whatever was his business, he soon performed it; and on his return, again joined the most convivial of his new friends, treating them from his can of vodka, and singing songs to them till late at night. the whole of the next day was spent by the carters in distributing the contents of their vehicles to their different destinations, and in reloading them with goods to convey to the south. the stranger peasant having likewise apparently disposed of his cargo, returned with a very light one, saying that he had a friend with a broken limb, whom he was anxious to convey to his home in the country. in the evening, he again unloaded his cart, leaving his goods under charge of his friend the carter, and drove away in the direction he had formerly taken; saying, before he went, that he should return with his maimed companion. he drove his light cart quickly along the streets, till he reached that part of the city before mentioned, as the neighbourhood of the place in which the conspirators held their meetings; when on his giving a low whistle, a lad sprang out from behind a wall, and taking the place of the peasant, drove slowly on, the other hastening to the door of the vault, in which ivan had been so long concealed. "is all safe?" he asked of the lad, who took his place. "have you seen none of the cursed police in the neighbourhood?" "there is nothing to fear, and no one could pass near here, without my seeing or hearing them," answered the boy. the peasant gave the peculiar knock at the door of the vault, which being opened by the old man, he immediately entered. no one appeared in sight, as the telga drove up to the nearest spot, by which the door could be approached; and without allowing it scarcely time to stop, the peasant and a gipsy were seen, bearing the body of a man, wrapped up in the folds of a peasant's dress, his head bandaged so as completely to conceal his features. no sooner was he placed in the cart, reclining his whole length at the bottom, than the young peasant, again taking the reins, drove rapidly away. the old man was again left to his solitude, and the two gipsies hastened off in an opposite direction. the peasant proceeded quickly through the narrow and winding streets of the city; once or twice the police seeming inclined to stop him, but as he put on a careless air, whistling and singing as he drove along, they did not think it necessary to interrupt his progress. at length, however, an officer of police, in search of some of the conspirators, who had as yet escaped detection, ordered him in an authoritative tone to stop his telga. he instantly obeyed, uncovering the face of its occupant, and displaying a profusion of red shaggy locks, and large untrimmed beard; a cloth being bound round the head of the wounded man. the peasant's volubility and frankness, seemed to convince the officer that there was no cause for suspicion, and he bid the former drive on, an order most promptly obeyed; until at length the peasant escaping all further impediments, reached the caravan party in safety. he was warmly welcomed by his friends, who were making merry over cans of their beloved quass and vodka; and having attended carefully to the comforts of his charge, whom he covered up in his wagon, he joined his comrades, and remained with them, until they stole off to rest in their carts, the young peasant rolling himself up beneath the shelter of his own telga. the next morning they were all astir; but it was some time before they were ready to begin their journey towards the south. the wounded man was able to sit up among the merchandise, with which the telga of the peasant was now loaded, the owner walking by its side; and as they passed the gates of the city, he had a joke for each of the guards, who after looking into each vehicle, allowed the caravan to pass on. at a short distance, outside the gates of the city, they observed a concourse of people assembled, when the wounded man inquired the cause of the crowd. "it is only because a few people are going to be knouted," answered one of the drivers, taking it as a thing of course. as they passed close to the place of execution, the wounded man observed one of the unfortunate culprits standing in a conspicuous situation, just about to receive punishment. he uttered an exclamation, and seemed as if he would rush forward to the rescue of the criminal; but his weakness reminded him of his incapability even to walk, as with a look of indignant regret, he sank back on his seat. the young peasant, observing the movement, leaped quickly into the telga, urging on his horse at a faster speed. "hist, sir! hist! would you spoil all, by want of caution?" he said, "nothing can save the poor fellow, and i know he would rather die than bring you into danger. the knowledge that you are safe will fully repay him." the caravan had now proceeded on some way, clouds of dust obscuring the hateful scene from their eyes, and perchance, even among that servile band of drovers, many a breast might have heaved, indignant at the cruelty they had witnessed; for to their sorrow they knew, that the innocent too often suffered punishment, due alone to the guilty, yet none of them dared to utter their thoughts, even to their comrades. it was some time before the young peasant could resume his gaiety, as he returned to his post by the side of his telga; however, he at length began to talk and laugh as before, his light-hearted companions quickly dismissing all recollection of the scene they had witnessed. some versts further on, after charging his comrades not to mention his having been with them, and receiving their cordial farewell, he drove away rapidly along the bye road which there presented itself. he was long remembered by that kind-hearted and simple race, in whose breasts enmity retains a slighter hold than gratitude and affection. the caravan had proceeded for about the space of an hour, along the road, when an alarm was given, that a party of mounted police were galloping after them. the emissaries of justice were soon among the wagoners, calling loudly to them to stop, striking at them with their thick whips, and demanding a culprit, who had escaped their vigilance. though the sturdy carters could easily have overpowered their brutal assailants, not one attempted to make any resistance; but the young peasant reaped the reward of his address and wit, in conciliating them, for they one and all denied any knowledge of the person described, nor could additional blows gain any further information from them. the police, after bestowing a few parting stripes, returned the way they came; many a muttered curse followed them, the honest carters rejoicing that their friend had escaped, and piously crossing themselves, offered up many a hearty prayer for his ultimate escape. the peasant drove on, till he caught sight of the gipsy encampment of our former friends, between whose tented walls he forthwith entered, and was received with a shout of congratulation by its swarthy inhabitants. the zingani chief went forward to welcome the new-comers; a cry of pleasure escaping azila, who timidly followed her father, as the wounded man was lifted from his conveyance; and he with the seeming peasant, throwing off their disguises, discovered to their assembled friends, ivan and the young gipsy javis. the chief warmly welcomed ivan, and congratulated javis on the successful commencement of his undertaking, to which azila added her own thanks. ivan was then conducted to the principal tent, where the old crone hagar, took the wounded man again under her surgical care, and from the effects of her healing remedies, he soon experienced relief. the chief took a seat by his side. "my daughter," said he, "could not venture again into the city, to aid your escape as she wished, having as we have reason to know, been already suspected by the police of being concerned in the late conspiracy; and as you well know, suspicion is sufficient to condemn a person in this country, of a political crime." "i trust, my friend, to be soon able to relieve you from the danger you run in sheltering me," said ivan. "not until you are sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey, will we allow you to depart," answered the gipsy, "and then i have hopes, that by the talents and ingenuity of javis, you will entirely escape from the power of your enemies." while this conversation was going forward, a man who had been sent out as a scout, hastened into the tent, to say that he had seen a party of the police, galloping on the high road towards the south, in the direction the caravan had taken which javis had just left. "ah!" said the chief, "you have had a narrow escape, sir, but i have my hopes that the police will lose their scent, and i trust that we are not yet suspected. we will, however, move our camp as quickly as possible towards the south, where we may be more secure from their interference." volume , chapter xviii. we must now refer back for a short period, to the morning on which the count erintoff learned, from public rumour, that a dreadful murder had been committed, on some one who could not be recognised, owing to the mangled state of his features, and to the absence of any papers or valuables upon the body by which it could be known. the count congratulated himself that he had at length got rid of one, whom he most deeply hated; looking upon him as his rival in azila's love; and he now therefore anticipated an easy conquest of the beautiful gipsy girl. he was however, not aware that she had been made fully acquainted, not only with his views towards herself, but with his intention of causing ivan's assassination. it will be remembered that there were two gipsy boys, whom groff had kept in the palace for the purpose of enticing azila thither; these lads were, by the count's orders, afterwards allowed to remain, in the hope of again attracting her there. none of their tribe, however, seemed to take any notice of them; the wounded boy remaining in bed, and the other who appeared to be dull and heavy was suffered to wander about the house, at will. the count little thinking at the time, that he was an active, intelligent spy, whom azila, profiting by the accident which had introduced them to the palace, had purposely left there to discover and report all the count's movements. the count being convinced of ivan's death, when groff presented himself to claim the wages of blood, gladly paid the money, and then bethought himself of some plan, to make the most advantageous use of the papers he had become possessed of. they clearly proved the existence of some conspiracy, but of what nature or extent he could not tell; and he began to consider whether or no, he had not better make further discoveries, before he communicated it to the government. he ordered groff, therefore, to watch the neighbourhood of the place, to learn if others assembled there; an office the wretch was very unwilling to perform; a horror seizing him as he approached the spot, where he had committed the murder, and driving him away, so that he brought back word to his master that he had seen no one. the count's rage and disappointment was excessive, when on the morning of ivan's return to moscow, he heard, by chance, that it was suspected the count flatoff was the person murdered, and on making particular inquiries at ivan's hotel, he was informed that on the night of the murder, he suddenly departed for the country. this, it will be remembered, was the very time when he was summoned to attend the death-bed of his mother, owing to which he escaped the fate intended for him. he therefore stationed groff to watch for his return, to bring him instant information, determining this time to glut his vengeance with his own hands. groff had not long to wait before ivan returned, when he hastened with the intelligence to his master. the count ordered him to arm himself with a sword, and to return to watch ivan's movements, in case he should visit the place of meeting; then taking kruntz with him, also well armed, he himself repaired to the neighbourhood. he then informed the chief officer of police, that he suspected some plot was on foot, desiring that some of the subordinates might accompany him, in case his suspicions proved correct. his plan was, to attack ivan under the pretext of arresting him, and to kill him when he attempted to defend himself, as he had no doubt he would do. this purpose, he communicated to his two worthy followers, but it was fortunately overheard by the young gipsy spy, who had concealed himself in the apartment, and as soon as the lad was able to make his escape, he communicated the information to azila, who was waiting for him. the count's arrangements occupied some time, so that ivan had left the place of meeting before the police had arrived, and the count was but just in time to encounter him. his fury and disappointment were doubly increased at finding himself again foiled in his purpose; his only satisfaction being in the death of groff, who was in possession of some rather dangerous secrets. how much greater was his rage, when on returning with the police, he found that his prey had escaped him altogether. he eagerly joined in the search, urging on the police to their work, but to no purpose, until baffled and enraged, he returned to his palace, resolving not to rest until he had discovered his rival, and obtained possession of azila. in order to accomplish the first of these objects, he instituted inquiries in every direction, sending out spies with promises of rewards, if they should discover the traitor, he himself again joining in the search. on inquiring for the gipsy boys, in order to ascertain where azila was to be found, he learned that they had both escaped, no one could tell how or when. of azila, he could not hear anything, as she had not again appeared in the city. at all points, he seemed doomed to be disappointed in his vile purposes, when early one day, he heard that a telga had been seen on the previous evening, coming from the direction of the place where the conspirators had held their meetings; and taking the hint, he repaired thither with some of the police. they went directly to the vault of the old man, who had been previously suspected. the wretched inmate was dragged from his abode, and on refusing to answer the questions put to him, which might betray his late guest, he was sentenced to receive the punishment of the knout. the sentence was carried into execution. the old man sunk under it; he died unknown, and unmourned. the police, however, traced the telga to the place where javis had passed the night, and finding that a caravan had set out that morning, some of their mounted comrades were sent in pursuit. as we have before stated, they arrived after javis had driven away, and were again at fault, not knowing what course to pursue; for they were now persuaded that they had been led on a wrong scent. count erintoff at length almost despaired of wreaking his vengeance on ivan, until, in his inquiries for azila, he learned that she had been implicated in the conspiracy, and it then occurred to him, that she might have been the companion of his flight. he learned also, that the very tribe of gipsies, to which he knew azila belonged, had lately been in the neighbourhood of moscow, though the police were not aware of the fact, and that they had moved towards the south soon after the conspiracy had been discovered. connecting all these circumstances together, his hopes of gaining possession of azila, and of punishing his enemy, were again raised. on his giving, therefore, the information he had gained to the police, a party of that force was ordered to attend him. he now felt certain that they could no longer escape; indulging his mind with the thoughts of vengeance, and the success of his passion. he easily traced the route the gipsies had taken, following up each of their day's journeys, which he was enabled to accomplish in a much shorter time than they had done. with savage delight at his expected triumph, he caught sight of the tents of the gipsy encampment; when ordering some of the police to watch well that none escaped, he with the rest, confiding in the power and terror of the legal authority they possessed, rushed into the centre of the encampment. the gipsies appeared to be completely taken by surprise, the women crowding together in alarm, and the men starting on their feet, and advancing to meet the intruders. the chief came out of his tent, as if just aroused from sleep. "on what account," he demanded, "is the quiet and order of my camp thus suddenly broken into by the police? who is it you seek here?" "the traitor ivan galetzoff, and a gipsy female called azila," said the count; "and if they are not delivered into our hands, you shall suffer." "ah!" exclaimed the chief, starting and eyeing the count narrowly, "i have no one here among my people, of that name." "you refuse then to deliver up those we are in search of," said the count. "examine the tents," he exclaimed to his followers; who immediately commenced pulling them down, strewing the contents in all directions on the ground. the gipsies looked on at the work of destruction with sullen indifference; neither interfering, or offering any resistance to prevent the injury committed; for the police wantonly cut the ropes of the tents, broke open the chests, turned the animals adrift, as they examined the vehicles; so that in a few minutes from the time they entered the encampment, where the quiet circle of tents then stood, there was now a scene of confusion and disorder. yet it was of no effect, for their intended prisoners could no where be found. "you have set at defiance the emperor's authority," said the count, addressing the zingani chief, "and must take the consequences. i arrest you in the name of the czar." "what, has the noble count erintoff turned police officer, as well as assassin?" exclaimed the chief. "i fear you not, count. either let me go free, or take the consequences. the murderer of the count flatoff is known," he added, stepping closer up to him. "i well know your motives, count; but will not interfere, while you attempt not to injure me or mine. i am your prisoner if you wish." the count turned pale with rage and fear. he felt that he was entirely in the power of the bold gipsy, should he not succeed in destroying him at once, and that he could not hope to do in the midst of his people, when no resistance was offered. the only alternative was to make him his friend, for he saw that terror was not likely to influence him. the count, therefore, pretended to be satisfied that the people he sought were not among the gipsies; hoping, by throwing them off their guard, to pounce upon them when unprepared, and intending to take the first opportunity of crushing: one who had a secret of such importance to him in his possession. he feared too, that the accusation would lead to further inquiries as to the means by which he became possessed of the papers, and how he gained his information of the conspiracy, for he knew there were already some causes of suspicion existing against him. secretly vowing vengeance therefore, he ordered the police to remount, and accompany him in a further search he meditated making, being convinced that the fugitives were at no great distance. the gipsies saw their enemies depart, with bitter feelings of vengeance towards them, as they set about repairing the wanton damage they had sustained, while the latter rode on their way; the count being resolved to accuse the gipsy of having, like his daughter, given his assistance to the late conspiracy, hoping thus to crush him, without danger to himself, knowing that the first accusation has always the greatest weight. how he succeeded will be seen hereafter. the count did not gain the reward he expected for the discovery of the conspiracy; it being strongly suspected, that he would have kept it concealed completely, had he not been instigated by some motive advantageous to himself. instead therefore of receiving some lucrative office, or of being raised to a higher dignity in rank, the emperor fully appreciated his motives, and giving him the credit of believing that if it had been to his interest, he would have joined the conspiracy without scruple, appointed him to the command of a regiment in the army of the caucasus, hoping thus to get rid of a troublesome and suspected subject. as the count had a short time before reached the rank of colonel; this order could not appear singular; and although he well understood the reasons of his appointment, he had no alternative but to obey. the regiment which the count erintoff commanded, was one of those forming a brigade under the orders of the baron galetzoff, destined for the army of the caucasus, now marching towards the south, to embark for the opposite coast. levies had been raised in all directions, the recruits as soon as collected being marched off to the depots in the south, to join an army with which the emperor had determined to overwhelm and crush his mountain opponents of circassia; and no one exulted more in the prospect of carrying fire and sword into the country of his detested enemies, than the baron galetzoff, as he reviewed his well-equipped though mostly newly raised troops. under his standard were collected the short hardy natives of the north, cossacks from the banks of the don, and volga; regiments of enslaved poles, now fighting by the side of their conquerors; some few cavalry, whom the russians called circassians, but who were, in truth, men collected from the confines of the caucasus; georgians, immeritians, mingrelians; but not one who could boast of true circassian descent. with these troops was also the regiment to which thaddeus stanisloff was attached, he being obliged to leave moscow ignorant of the fate of his friend; and many a long day passed, without his receiving any tidings of him. absence did not however diminish his friendship, or his regret at their separation. though under the orders of the baron galetzoff, it was long before he came in contact with him; he heard it reported, that there was no one so bitter against the defection of his supposed son, or more eager in endeavouring to apprehend him, vowing that he should be punished as a traitor and renegade, if he fell into his power. volume , chapter xix. it was now the beautiful, balmy, and genial month of a russian june, all nature rejoicing, clothed in one entire bright livery of green, fresh from the new bursting buds, yet unseared by the burning heats of summer, like the beauteous maiden just ripened into perfect womanhood, surrounded with a halo of freshness and purity, ere the blasts and scorching atmosphere of the cruel world have had time to obscure the one or sully the other. a few days had been passed by ivan in the gipsy camp, with but slow progress; each day, however, contributing to his strength. at length he declared himself sufficiently recovered to undertake the more difficult and dangerous part of his journey on foot; so eagerly burning was he with the desire of reaching the place of his destination, to fulfil the vow he had taken at the death-bed of his mother. azila had been his constant attendant, enlivening him with her conversation, and soothing him with her attentions; but so completely were his thoughts occupied with the events which had occurred, and especially with those to which he was looking forward, that no other sentiment entered his heart. that lovely being, day by day, sat by his side, watching anxiously each look, listening eagerly to each word he uttered, yet he loved not. he felt sincere gratitude to her as the preserver of his life, he would have again risked his own to aid her; but no other feeling excited his bosom. and she--so proud, so indifferent as she had shewn herself to be, towards the count erintoff, could she give her love to one from whom she could scarce hope for a return. the hearts of women are uncertain, incomprehensible, inscrutable, and we will not venture to pronounce by what special agency azila's was influenced. ivan was much indebted to old hagar for his rapid recovery, though it was some time before she would give her consent to his eager wish to quit her care. on the last day's journey, as he was riding among the gipsies, dressed in the costume of the rest of the party, the chief unfolded the plan he had formed to enable him to make his further escape from the empire. "at this time of the year," said the zingani chief, "thousands of pilgrims flock from all parts of the empire, to what they superstitiously call their holy city of chioff, and i propose that you should first repair thither with javis, who is intimately acquainted with every part of the country, as your guide, both of you disguised as peasants performing the pilgrimage, for which i have provided every thing necessary. should you, by any chance, be again followed, among the vast crowds who are now assembling at chioff, you will find more facilities for preventing all clue of your route being discovered. after you have passed through the city, you and your guide may assume the character of pilgrims, returning from thence, towards their habitations on the confines of the country. i have sent forward a messenger to some friends of our people, who are now near the place where you will find the least danger in crossing the frontiers into moldavia, to which javis will lead you; and our people there, will afford you assistance should you require it. i must now ride forward to select a spot for our encampment; i wish to keep as much as possible concealed from all passers by, for we know not who may prove an enemy among them." saying which, the gipsy chief rode on. we must observe that the zingani party had been travelling as much as practicable across the country, keeping all the bye roads and lanes, and avoiding all communications with the villages, near which they were at times obliged to pass. as they journeyed on, ivan rode up to the side of azila, for the maiden seemed sad and dispirited. after some other conversation-- "you go, sir," said she, "amid scenes of excitement and of wild strife, where all your thoughts and hopes are centered, and where you will soon forget those you leave behind, those who would have died to serve you; but believe me, there is one who will never forget your aid, nor your bravery in her defence; who--" "neither can i ever forget one to whom i owe my life and liberty," he exclaimed; "nay, much more: who will have enabled me to fulfil, i hope, a deep sworn vow, the accomplishment of which i have so rashly hazarded." their conversation was here interrupted by the return of the zingani chief, who rode to ivan's side. early the following day, ivan and his guide sallied from a tent, so completely changed in appearance, that no one could possibly have recognised in the two old peasants, they now seemed to be, the dark featured, handsome young men they really were. their very skin had been tinged of a reddish hue, with wrinkles on their brows and cheeks; while red shaggy locks sprinkled with white, covered their own dark hair, and long full beards of the same colour fell over their breasts to the waist, large low hats still more concealing their countenances. they wore long dark coloured gowns, and sheep-skin coats: rough boots of untanned leather protected their feet, and by their side hung wallets to contain their food. in their hands they bore thick sticks, ostensibly to support their tottering steps, but really to serve as a means of defence, in case of necessity. thus equipped, when ready to depart, the zingani chief embraced them both, bestowing on them the peculiar blessings of his people, and charging javis with many injunctions for the guidance of his conduct on their journey. the whole tribe assembled to bid them farewell, the old crone hagar calling down curses on all who should impede them in their progress, and blessings on the heads of all who favoured them. azila alone was no where to be seen; and feelings which ivan could scarcely acknowledge, even to himself, prevented him from asking for her, till the last moment. the chief, on missing azila, sent in all directions to discover her, his alarm becoming considerable when she was not to be found. the travellers delayed their departure, in the hopes of gaining intelligence of her before they went; for fears began to be entertained, that by some means or other she had been entrapped either by the count erintoff or by the police, who might have feared to seize her by open force, among so large a band of defenders. while the whole camp was thus thrown into a state of alarm, one of the scouts, who were at all times kept on the watch, to give timely notice in case they might be pursued, came running hastily among them, to say that he had descried, at a distance, a party whom he took to be police, riding rapidly towards the camp. without a moment's delay, javis seized ivan's hand, hurrying him away at perhaps a faster rate, than their apparent age would have warranted; but they were only just in time to escape, for before they lost sight of the encampment, they perceived the police ride into it. the delay which there occurred, as we have already seen, enabled them to make good their distance, though they were in momentary expectation of being pursued: no signs, however, of their enemies appearing, they continued their journey at a more moderate speed. on the second day, as they were about to repose by the road-side, the heat of the sun becoming oppressive, they heard the clattering of horses' hoofs behind them, and perceived, on turning their heads, a party of the police galloping along the road, before they had time to attempt concealing themselves. javis, however, with perfect presence of mind, begged ivan to imitate his style of walking, when the police coming up, merely cast a glance at them, and rode on; but the travellers saw them stop at a short distance ahead, to interrogate a young peasant lad, whom they had just before observed. the lad appeared in no way disconcerted, pointing in answer to their questions, to a road across the country, which they followed at the same rapid speed. quickening their own pace, they soon overtook the boy, who saluted them as they passed, in respect for their seeming age. they did not think it prudent to rest, until the evening was far advanced, when javis led ivan to a hut, with the inhabitants of which he exchanged a few words, and was instantly admitted. it is not necessary to give here a detail of each day's journey, their adventures possessing but little interest, merely observing, that on some nights they rested in the cottages of the peasants, and at other times they found shelter beneath the shade of the thick leaved trees, or reposed during the heat of the day, and travelled at night while the moon shone brightly. several times, ivan felt almost confident, that he had caught sight of the same peasant lad they had passed on their second day's journey, who seemed to be dogging their steps; but javis declared that he had not seen him, so that he concluded he must have again been mistaken. ivan had now perfectly recovered not only his strength, but his spirits, for trusting that his hopes might be realised of reaching the land of his birth, where all his thoughts and aspirations centered, he felt that nothing could press him down, or prevent him from accomplishing his much desired object. one day, towards the evening, a violent storm overtook them, obliging them to stop at a wretched hostelry on the road-side, the only house of public entertainment to be found for a considerable distance. the fierceness of the tempest made it impossible for them to proceed; in spite therefore, of the slight danger they perhaps ran in entering a house where a spy might already be, they agreed to remain there, till a clear sky should again allow them to prosecute their journey. while they were seated at the wretched repast the house was able alone to afford, in an apartment serving the purpose of kitchen and receiving room for the guests, for whose accommodation tables and benches were placed at one end of it, a boy entered, who started at seeing them, turning back as if he would retreat, when ivan recognised in him the lad whom he had suspected of following their steps. he entered the house, throwing himself on a bench near the fire, and while he endeavoured to dry his wet garments, he seemed lost in a reverie, gazing at the burning embers on the hearth, speaking to no one, nor turning his head to look at the other guests. ivan at length taking compassion on the youth's disconsolate manner, forgetful of his suspicions about him, in his assumed character of an old man, approached to invite him to share their humble fare. the boy started as ivan spoke, a blush mantling on his cheek, and he hesitated to accept the proffered offer, till javis came to add his persuasions. at length, he yielded and took his seat at their table, when ivan asked him, if he had not before seen him on the road. the boy acknowledged that they had passed him. "are you then going to chioff, boy, to worship at the shrines of the holy saints?" asked ivan. "yes, i go thither for that purpose," answered the boy. "you are but a youthful pilgrim to attempt so long a journey alone and unprotected," said ivan. "it surprises me that your parents put you not under the care of older people travelling the same road, who might have guarded your youth from the dangers your inexperience may lead you into. had you no friends from your neighbourhood, making the pilgrimage?" "alas, i have no parents who are able to protect me, and few friends who love me; but for protection i need it not, i can protect myself." "do not say that you have no friends, boy," interrupted javis, "when perchance, there are some, who most likely, would be ready to shield you from the slightest harm." the boy answered not, but hung down his head, nor did he venture to look towards ivan, while he was speaking. ivan, in compassion for the boy's timidity, spoke to him a few kind words of encouragement, when javis addressed him. "you are travelling the same road we go, boy, and may, perchance, require protection. you shall, if you wish, accompany us, and you shall have all that two old men can bestow. will you accept our offer?" the boy again seemed to hesitate, until ivan pressed him to accept their protection, when he gladly assented. "you seem, poor boy, weighed down by some secret sorrow; tell it to us, that we may, if possible, afford you all the consolation in our power." "not for worlds," answered the boy, sadly; "it would but increase my sorrow to name it, nor would you have power to heal it." "but tell me, boy," said ivan, "by what name shall we call you?" the boy hesitated for a moment, before he spoke. "they call me, conrin, sir." "forsooth, boy, the name is a pretty one," said ivan, "and conrin will we call you. you seem fatigued and weary; and now that you have satisfied your hunger, lie down and rest, for you have yet many a weary mile to travel, ere you can reach the shrines of the holy saints." the boy indeed seemed unwilling to enter into conversation, listening however with earnest attention to the words which fell from the seeming old men's lips, and as they ceased speaking, he retired to a corner of the room, where throwing himself on a bench, and wrapping his cloak close around him, he placed his head on a bundle he carried, and composed himself to sleep. the poor boy was evidently weary, and unaccustomed to the fatigues he had undergone on his journey, and though dressed as a common peasant, there was much greater neatness and care displayed than usual, the cloak also being a luxury few of his class possessed. the storm continued raging furiously as before, and as there were no beds in the house, nor any thing like such a comfort, the two travellers were fain to repose as best they might, on the hard benches placed against the wall. on the next morning by break of day, their new companion was already on foot, prepared to start, when the storm having passed away, the whole party set forward on their journey. they had not proceeded many miles, when javis informed his companions, that there was a cottage in the neighbourhood, from whence he could procure a conveyance to carry them on at a faster rate; and begging them to rest for a while, he went in search of it, and soon returned, driving a small vehicle capable of containing all the three. in this carriage they travelled till the end of the next day, when javis again found a fresh horse, so that by thus frequently changing both horse and carriage, in a few days they reached the neighbourhood of their destination. a distance now remained, which would take them two days to perform on foot, it being necessary to travel thus in their assumed characters of pilgrims, for already had they overtaken large crowds, all hastening to the same destination. the pilgrims travelled in bands of one or two hundred, of both sexes, and of all ages; the hoary headed grandsire and the athletic youth, aged women and laughing maidens, the old supporting their weary limbs on their staves, while by their side ran young children of all ages. the troop headed by a white bearded monk, leaning on a long staff, clothed in sackcloth and bare-footed, chaunting forth songs of encouragement to the weary, and praise to heaven. thousands were at that moment on their way, to visit the catacombs of chioff, from every part of the immense empire of russia; from the bleak and freezing kamstchatka, from the vast and far distant regions of siberia, from the confines of tartary, and from the scattered provinces of the south; performing with unabated perseverance the whole distance on foot, seldom sleeping under a roof, and living on the precarious charity of the miserable peasants on their road. our friends therefore joined one of the numerous companies, uninvited, yet cheerfully welcomed. all day the band travelled on, assembling at night in a grove of a few lofty wide-spreading trees near the road-side, through which the pale moon shone brightly on the heads of the numerous groups, here and there seen amid the darker shades. a fire was lighted to cook their scanty meal, after partaking of which, they assembled reverentially round an aged monk; who arose, commencing a slow and solemn chaunt, in which by degrees, the whole concourse joined. far off, amid the silence of the night, were heard the hymns of adoration of those simple people, and for many hours of the night, did those songs of praise continue, ere throwing themselves on the bare ground, their bed, the heavens their only covering, they composed themselves to sleep. the boy found shelter close to the trees, amid some groups, apparently of about his own age, the bright moonbeams streaming like rays of glory on the youthful heads of the sleeping pilgrims. the road they had been hitherto travelling, had led over the flat and uninteresting steppe. the country, however, as they approached chioff or kiov, as it is also called, now became slightly undulating; but it was not until towards the evening, that they came in sight of the holy city. as that unique and strikingly beautiful city first struck their view, standing in a commanding position, on a hill, the golden cupolas and domes, with which it is crowned, reflecting the rays of the sun with dazzling brightness, the pilgrims simultaneously raised a hymn of joy and praise. every one of the vast crowd kneeling down, devoutly crossed himself, rending the air with songs of thanksgiving. after some minutes spent in prayer, again they all arose, and headed by the reverend monk, they descended the hill, to cross by a bridge the river dnieper, whose waters wash the walls of the city. some, in eager haste, without stopping to rest their weary limbs, rushed towards the cathedral of the ascension, or the church of the catacombs, which stands a little removed from the city on the banks of the dnieper. others, among whom were ivan and his companions, sought rest and food, ere on the next morning, they should commence paying their adorations at the numerous shrines, they had vowed to visit. so well had ivan and javis sustained their characters, that not one of the credulous people, among whom they had freely mixed, suspected that they were otherwise than as what they appeared. next morning ivan and his companions set forward, to go through the usual routine of visiting the shrines. it is said, that in some years, more than fifty thousand pilgrims have visited the catacombs, and even now the whole city was filled with them, many too encamping outside on the unsheltered ground, thinking to gain more credit with heaven, by thus enduring greater hardship on earth. by early dawn, the whole of that vast concourse of strangers were on foot, hastening to the different places of worship. the church of the catacombs is adorned with seven golden domes, and seven golden spires, which are connected with gilt chains, now glittering with the first bright rays of the rising sun, seeming to shed a blaze of glory over the holy edifice, as the orisons of the morning worshippers rose towards heaven. upwards of five hundred feet above the river, rises the dome of the belfry, adorned with ionic columns and corinthian pilasters, to which all russians accord the greatest admiration and praise. as the doors of the church were thrown open, the eager pilgrims rushed in to throw themselves before the shrines of their favourite saints, whose pictures hung over their altars; though the least devout among them would have been scandalised had an image or figure stood there instead. as the first deep and solemn tones of the sacred harmony in the service rose towards heaven, ivan and his companions entered the cathedral, and following the example of the multitude, knelt before one of the altars; but there was an almost imperceptible curl of contempt on the lip of javis as they did so, even the boy seemed scarcely so devout as the long pilgrimage he had undertaken would have led one to suppose he should be. when the service was concluded, the pilgrims bought tapers at the porch of the church, and forming a procession in a long line, descended a wooden stair-case of many steps to the mouth of the catacombs, down each side of which were arranged an uninterrupted line of kneeling devotees, of the most wretched appearance. the procession halted, as the first part reached the entrance of the excavated passages of the catacombs, the priest preceding them; they then slowly and reverently entered the subterraneous vaults, the roof blackened with the smoke of thousands, and tens of thousands of the candles of the faithful, which had burnt there on previous years. on each side, in niches in the walls, were placed in open coffins, the bodies of those, who dying in the odour of sanctity, have been canonised for their pious acts and thoughts. there unburied they remain, enveloped in wrappers of cloth, and silk, highly ornamented with gold and silver embroidery, that their fellow mortals who come to them for intercession, seeing their honours after death, may study to imitate them in the purity of their lives; while their spirits, having ascended into heaven, are devoutly believed to exercise an influence with the father and son. their names are written on their breasts, and many have also a history of their virtuous actions, while their stiffened hands placed before them in the attitude of prayer, receive the kisses of the pilgrims, though few perchance could decypher even the names of those they worshipped. further on, they reached a passage in which was a range of small windows, where men had, with their own hands, built themselves in with stones against the wall, leaving open only a small hole to receive their food; dying with the insane thought, that they were doing their maker a good service. before each of the windows of those fanatics' last dwelling, now their tomb, knelt some bigoted and devoted worshipper, firmly believing that their self-immolation and unnatural death, had purchased for them everlasting life, and place, and power, among the spirits of the blessed. though it may seem incredible, yet so it was, that perchance not even one of that vast crowd had any just or clear notions of the tenets of the very religion they professed; for so ignorant are the russian peasants, that the most absurd and superstitious legends find fall credit in their minds. of the attributes of the supreme being, the majority have but the slightest conception, regarding him in the light of one inferior to their emperor, and neither respecting nor fearing him so much. so completely does the despotic influence of the czar extend over the greater mass of the people, that they have been taught to look upon him as one sent with divine authority, to rule over their lives and property, against whom it would be the most dreadful impiety to rebel; and for this end has their religion, and every feeling, and sentiment of their minds, been made subservient. yet these are the people, whose rulers profess to extend the benign light of christianity, and the blessings of civilisation, among the nations of the east! leaving the church, as they walked through the crowds, javis adroitly made inquiries among the peasant pilgrims, as to when a party was likely to start for the west confines of the empire and gladly found that a band was about to return towards the frontier of bessarabia the very next morning. with his usual tact and cleverness, he soon discovered where the party was lodging, introducing himself among the peasants, and gaining their good will. they therefore gladly received him and his friends among their company. the rest of the day was of necessity spent, in their character of pilgrims, in visiting the churches and most interesting sights of that gorgeous city, though gladly did they prepare to accompany the party of self-satisfied pilgrims, who were returning the same way they wished to pursue. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ end of volume one. volume , chapter i. thus far, ivan had been successful in the accomplishment of his journey, though there still remained many difficulties to overcome. these, however, were lessened by the presence of mind and cleverness which javis at all times displayed. he seemed too to be possessed of noble and generous sentiments, so that, notwithstanding their difference in rank, ivan began to feel for him a sincere friendship, independently of the gratitude due to his assistance and attention. a change, however, had come over him, for though active and intelligent as ever, he was no longer the gay light hearted being, he had at first appeared. it was in vain, that ivan endeavoured to discover the cause: javis would start at times, and walk on muttering to himself, as if some important subject occupied his thoughts: his laugh was hollow, and his smile forced and painful. young conrin often turned an inquiring glance towards him, but seemed also equally puzzled to account for the alteration. he too had won much upon ivan's regard, by his gentle and unassuming behaviour, and by his evident desire to please his self-constituted masters. it was with much regret, therefore, on the morning of their departure, and while javis had gone out to make some necessary purchases for their journey, that ivan called the boy to him, to bid him farewell. "we must now part, conrin. believe me that i do so with regret; but we return not to the place whence we came, while you must go back to your parents and friends. here, take this small sum of money, it is all i can spare, but you may require it on your journey." while he spoke, the tears fell fast from the boy's eyes. "alas! why are you so ready to dismiss me from your company, sir?" he said, putting aside the money. "have i done aught to offend you? i have no home--no friends to return to--i have quitted all, and for ever! oh, let me accompany you then as your servant, and i will serve you faithfully and truly." "but we go far from hence, boy," said ivan; "and perchance, you might never again see your own native russia." "it matters not, sir, to what part of the country, or to what part of the world you go. whither you go, there i will follow you. but in pity, dismiss not an orphan child, who claims your protection." seeing that ivan still seemed to hesitate, he added, "think not that i am a serf, escaping from bondage: no, i am free-born, and free alone will i live; for no proud master shall ever claim me as his slave." the boy's eyes flashed with a look of proud independence as he spoke. "but, young conrin," answered ivan, "i am as you see, but a poor old man, without the means of supporting you, or of giving you employment fit for your youth." "i seek not the wages of a servant," answered conrin; "perchance too, i may find the opportunity of serving you. try me, at least, and if i prove useless, you can but dismiss me at last." "but suppose, that though we are old men, we may lead you into far and strange countries, where you may be exposed to hardships, under which your tender years may sink? you will then repent that you followed us," said ivan. "i fear no danger that you can lead me into," answered the boy; "and am too well accustomed to hardships to sink under them. besides, i am older than i appear, and understand full well the task i undertake." ivan still hesitated to comply with young conrin's extraordinary fancy, as it seemed, when javis entered, and the boy instantly referred his cause to him. javis, without hesitation, seconded his petition, when ivan, at length, consented to his accompanying them. "oh, trust me, sirs," he said, "that you will not find me wanting in aught that becomes a servant. you know not how my heart is lightened by your kindness." the pleasure which beamed in the speaker's eyes attested the truth of his words; yet, it had before occurred to ivan, and now did so again, that the boy had seen through their disguise from the very first; and he was not without a suspicion, that the boy followed them thus pertinaciously, as a spy sent to betray them at the end of their journey, and in the very moment when they might have congratulated themselves on having effected their escape. ivan knew how varied and constant are the devices made use of in russia to entrap the unwary, and to shew that the power of that vast engine of despotism, the secret police, can extend to the very confines of the empire. at length, however, he dismissed the thought as contradicting the stamp which nature sets on the countenances of her children; and while looking at the boy's face, he felt convinced he was incapable of such treachery. that conrin was not deceived by the disguise the fugitives had assumed, ivan felt convinced, as he at all times addressed him in a tone and manner of respect that he would scarcely have paid to a poor peasant pilgrim, although children are early taught in russia to treat age with respect and attention. he never, also, attempted to intrude into their presence, keeping aloof till called to approach nearer, though, several times, ivan had discovered, as he thought, the boy's eyes fixed on him with an earnest and inquiring gaze, as if he wished to read his very thoughts. but again, he fancied that in that idea he must have been mistaken. he saw clearly, that at all events, there was something which the boy wished to conceal, and whatever was the cause of his attachment, he felt gratified in the knowledge that there was one more human being who could care for him, in the world. we will not accompany the travellers each day in their long and tedious journey, in company with the returning pilgrims, of whom, in a short time, they became very weary, so much so, that javis was of opinion they might now venture to travel on at a faster speed, by themselves. for this purpose, he left the party, as they encamped, in search of some of the numerous wandering bands of his people, whom he had heard were in the neighbourhood. he returned the next morning before break of day, with the intelligence that he had procured a telga, which was in waiting a short distance in advance, to which he led ivan and their young companion, before the pilgrims had begun their march. these were, accordingly, soon left a long way behind. our travellers were fortunate in procuring a constant change of horses and vehicles, from the friendly tribes of zingani, or from peasants with whom they had communication, so that they rapidly approached the confines of the empire, to cross which would prove another difficulty, and demand a change of disguise. since leaving the band of pilgrims, ivan and his companions had kept a south-westerly course, as much as possible, by cross-roads and bye-paths, both to avoid observation, and because, in the more unfrequented parts of the country, javis had a greater chance of encountering some of the wandering tribes of his people. indeed, from information he had received, he expected to find a party of them encamped in the neighbourhood of the pruth. the travellers were now approaching that river, where it divides the principality of moldavia from the russian province of bessarabia, in which they now were; their greatest hazard being in passing the russian posts on the frontier, though they had yet other dangers to encounter, from the numerous spies sent out by the imperial government, who exercise complete influence in the principality, to the very borders of the turkish provinces. as they journeyed on, they observed a figure before them, jumping and singing as he went, now and then stopping to look around him, and then again pursuing his extraordinary antics. when he saw the party approaching, instead of endeavouring to escape, by increasing his speed, he turned round to meet them. in this ragged, half-witted creature, fantastically dressed in coloured rags and tatters, javis recognised one of his own race. a few words from javis, in the rommany language, brought the poor being directly to their side. he gave them to understand that an encampment of his people was not far off, adding that he would lead them to the spot. as they came in sight of the encampment, several fierce-looking men of the zingani, on seeing strangers approach, rushed out with threatening gestures; but when javis called to them in their own language, they gave him a hearty, though a rude welcome, and forthwith ushered the strangers within the circle of their camp. here all the people of the tribe gathered round the travellers, telling them that they had been already informed of their approach, and were prepared to offer them assistance. javis, in return, explained the wishes of his friend and himself, and the necessity of proceeding without delay. several men at once volunteered to assist them in crossing the river at an unguarded spot, and to be answerable for their safety, on condition of their assuming the dress and character of their own people, as they were in the custom of communicating with others of their tribe in moldavia. they also advised them to continue the same disguise till they had arrived in the turkish provinces, as numerous tribes of their people were in the country, who would assist them. such a dress would, moreover, exempt them from the attack of the numerous robbers who infested the land, but who would not deem such poor-looking wayfarers worth pillaging. to this proposition ivan gladly assented; and, after a plentiful supply of provisions had been placed before them, javis set about arranging the necessary dresses; the zingani treating ivan and his youthful companion with the greatest respect. while engaged in this employment, the brow of javis grew more clouded and uneasy than before. as he passed ivan, he would turn a quick uncertain glance towards him, his countenance assuming an expression as if a sudden pang had tormented him, and then he would endeavour to look calm and composed as before. ivan, overcome with the fatigue of his journey, gladly accepted the offer made by the chief of the tribe to rest in his tent, where throwing himself on a heap of skins, he was soon wrapt in deep sleep, it yet wanting some time before it would be safe to venture across the pruth. the dark shades of evening were fast coming on, and the sky gave threatening warnings of a rough tempestuous night, when javis, unperceived, as he thought, by any of the people, stole from the camp. he looked tremblingly behind him, but saw no one following, and again pursued his way. he hastened onwards at a fast rate, then stopped and hesitated; fear and doubt were working in his breast. at last he mustered all his courage, and again ran quickly on. his purpose he scarce dared utter to himself. could he, the hitherto brave, the true, the most loved of all his tribe, be guilty of treachery? the long-threatened storm now broke with sudden fury; the lightning flashed brightly, and the wind loudly howled. javis kept up his speed. the russian guard-house was in sight, when a flash brighter and more dazzling than before darted from the clouds. for a moment his eyes were blinded. he looked up, and fancied that a tall and majestic form rose before him. the attitude of this phantom of his brain was threatening; the countenance fierce and angry. he beheld before him, as he believed, the spirit of his tribe, such as it had been described to him. he thought a voice, as if borne on the blast of the tempest, uttered these awful words: "cursed is he who shall hinder the friend of our tribe on his way; doubly cursed the betrayer of the confiding one, and thrice cursed the perjurer." the youth's eyes rolled wildly; his heart throbbed with violent pulsation; his limbs trembled. he could not move. he fell prostrate to the earth, where he lay for some time--he knew not how long. a gentle touch on his shoulder recalled him to consciousness. "rise!" said a gentle voice, yet trembling as if with alarm; "rise! you could not do the vile deed. thank the great spirit that you have been saved so cursed an act--an act so contrary to your nature. think you thus to have won a maiden's love? she would have doubly hated you. rise, and return to the camp, and henceforward atone by fidelity, for your thoughts of treachery. guard with your own life his you would have taken, and in time the curse, which hangs over you for your oath broken in thought, may be averted." the speaker turned, and flew towards the camp, when javis arose, and threw himself on his knees on the ground. "great spirit," he cried, "i will obey you! take but this heavy curse from off me, and i will follow this stranger wheresoever he listeth to go. never will i quit him until i see him in safety in his native land. though my heart consume with hopeless love, yet will i endure all for his sake. let this heavy trial gain me pardon." javis arose, and fled back to the camp. ivan, unconscious of the danger and treachery he had escaped, awoke and came forth from his tent; soon after which javis, having thrown aside all marks of age, appeared in his proper character, and ivan gladly followed his example. returning again to the tent, he equipped himself as a young gipsy, conrin having also assumed the same character. when all was prepared, the fugitives set forward with their gipsy guides towards the banks of the river. the weather was still dark and stormy, and the wind whistled among the few straggling trees which grew on the shore. here and there a star glimmered forth, as the dark masses of clouds were rapidly driven across the sky. the water rushed by in turbid eddies; and for a moment the wild scene was lit up by flashes of lightning, to be again left in total darkness. descending a steep bank, the guides launched a small boat which had been concealed among some thick underwood, and the travellers, taking their seats, pushed off into the stream. the gipsies, however, well knew their course, and, as they believed that none of the russian guards were likely, on such a night, to venture away from their posts, seemed free from apprehension. it was thus, amid storm and tempest, that ivan bade farewell for ever to the inhospitable territories of russia, leaving behind him few regrets, and looking forward to his future path with enthusiastic ardour and confidence. the gipsies pulled their slight bark boldly and safely across the boiling stream. while ivan landed on the opposite shore, a vivid flash followed by a long continued roar of thunder, gave him the last glimpse of russia, as he and his two companions stopped for an instant to gaze at it without speaking. the guides now took a direction across the wild and uncultivated ground, which extends for a considerable distance along the shores of the pruth. no rain had fallen to impede their progress, and with rapid strides they pursued their way, javis assisting young conrin, who could scarcely keep pace with the party. they hastened on thus, in hope of reaching some shelter, before the expected rain should fall, and having travelled some miles, the barking of dogs gave notice that they were approaching a human habitation. a loud whistle in return was given by the guides, when the fierce bark was changed into a cry of welcome, and the fugitives found themselves at the entrance of another gipsy encampment. the chief came forward to meet them, and as soon as he had heard their story from javis, he received them with a courteous welcome. when the guides were about to return, ivan offered them some remuneration for their trouble. "no," said they, refusing it, "we take nothing from the friends of our people, and from one who is so highly esteemed by our brother near moscow. it is from our enemies and from those who oppress us, that we exact tribute; and when they do not give we take. may a prosperous journey be your lot." saying which, they hastened away on their return across the river. contrary to the expectations of the travellers, they had no sooner reached the encampment than the sky grew clear, the stars shone out brightly, the wind subsided, and the summer storm had passed away. they were glad to find rest and shelter in the friendly tents of these wild people, whom, however dishonest they might be towards others, ivan had found faithful and true to him. one of their small skin-covered tents were prepared for ivan's accommodation, into which he was invited to enter, and repose himself. young conrin, seating himself at the entrance, prepared to watch his master while he slept; the boy, however, over-rated his own powers, for while he fancied that he kept guard, a deep slumber stole on his weariness. ivan slept soundly for some hours, fatigued as he was with the exertions of the last few days and the anxiety of his escape. as he was first returning to consciousness, the curtains of his small tent being closed, and a gentle light streaming through them, he fancied, or it might have been a waking dream, that a strain of music fell on his ear. as he listened, he was lulled into that half-dreaming, half-waking state, so delightful after the heavy slumber induced by fatigue; yet the syllables sounded distinctly, and he feared to stir, lest the sweet tones should prove but a dreamy illusion of the ear. the words were to the following effect, sung in a clear rich voice, which ivan fancied that he could recognise as that of young conrin. far as the waves can bear o'er the deep sea; far as the breezes blow o'er vale and lea; in whate'er lands you roam, leaving my father's home, i'll follow thee. o'er the blue mountain's brow, joyous and free; e'en where the desert plain bears not a tree, and the dark simoon's breath, comes bearing sudden death, i'll follow thee. where, in the forest, waves many a tree, to those cold regions which day cannot see; over the arid sand of afric's scorching land, i'll follow thee. to the proud battle-field bounding with glee, bearing thy banner high, as the foes flee; or mid the raging strife, where fierce men seek thy life, i'll follow thee. in the dark prison hold near thee i'll be; for thy lov'd service gives freedom to me: should grief or sickness come, and when death is thy doom, i'll follow thee. [see note] no sooner had the strain ceased, than ivan awoke to perfect consciousness, and springing from his couch, went forth from the tent, where he found javis and conrin waiting his presence, and a blush stole on the boy's cheeks at having been detected in his musical performance. "ah, my young page!" said ivan, "were you the good spirit which first aroused me from slumber with your sweet strains? i knew not of your vocal skill; but now that i have discovered it, i may often call upon you to soothe my spirit when oppressed." "ah! gladly would i sing to you the live long day, if i thought it would please you, sir," answered the boy. "indeed, it does please me; but how came you possessed of this art, the most prized in the sendee of a page?" asked ivan. "i lived with those who gained their livelihood by it; but i could never sing for pay; my voice is dumb if my words flow not from the heart." "well, boy, i hope often to hear you; and now you see that i am not the decrepit old man i first seemed, still do you wish to follow my fortunes, knowing that they may be perilous ones? but i would not command you to leave me." "say you so, sir? and i would not quit you for worlds," answered conrin. "then, my good page, i hope we may not part for a long time; and i trust, moreover, that in my country you may find a home you will love more than the one you have left. but we must away on our road towards that loved land." the hospitable chief of the tribe, as they are here called, tzygani, undertook to pass the travellers on from camp to camp of the numerous gangs of his people, (who wander through moldavia), till they could reach the danube, where it passes the turkish provinces. ivan and his two companions, much refreshed by their night's rest, after bidding farewell to the hospitable chief, set forward on the horses he had provided for them. they were accompanied by a guide, to shew them the way across the country, until they should again fall in with another camp of their people. in this way, they quickly travelled through the principality. moldavia, which formed part of the ancient kingdom of dacia, for a long time groaned under the iron rule of the turks, until freed by the victorious arms of russia, when the people began to rejoice at the prospect of the amelioration of the country, placed under the benign protection of a christian power. alas! they found to their cost, that they had only changed masters, and that their new protectors were determined to rivet still more firmly the chains which enslaved them, being yet more determinately opposed to liberal institutions, and all general improvement. the wretched peasants had no sooner been relieved from their turkish masters, by whom they had been pillaged and exhausted, than they were reduced to a state of absolute starvation by the russian army of occupation, which took up its position in the country. already scarcely able to find food for themselves, their corn and meat were forcibly torn from their grasp to feed their rapacious guests, and to supply provisions for the army engaged in the war against the turks. even a supply of corn, sent them by the benevolent inhabitants of the neighbouring austrian provinces, was seized by the russian soldiers, after crossing the frontier, thus depriving the famishing peasants of their last resource. on no side could they turn for assistance or sympathy, while, sinking under their misfortune, thousands died from famine and disease, the rest of europe being kept in utter ignorance of the foul and unwarranted tyranny exercised over them. so brutalised, indeed, have the lower orders become by a long state of vassalage, and utter insecurity of property, as to be almost insensible to the hardships of their condition, while the upper classes are most lamentably demoralised. in consequence of this state of things, the travellers found great parts of the country an almost entire wilderness, only slight patches of cultivation appearing here and there, though the soil seemed rich and productive. they passed but few miserable villages, and those far distant from each other. the peasants have a wild and savage appearance, increased by their black hair streaming loosely over their countenances, and by their sheepskin habits and caps, with sandals of goat skin fastened round the leg by a rope. the women are still more wretched and squalid. at each quiet and solitary farm house, at which our fugitives stopped, the poor people received them kindly, though they appeared to be in hourly alarm, from the fierce bands of robbers who were scouring the country in every direction, levying their lawless contributions alike on the peaceable villagers, and the unprotected travellers, and not unfrequently adding murder to robbery. the paths traversed by ivan and his companions scarcely deserved the name of roads, though the light low cart javis had procured, carried them safely and quickly over them. several rivers and streams interrupted their course. some of the latter were nearly dry, and the first they passed in boats, with small parties of gipsies, whom they fell in with, and who accompanied them on purpose. as they approached the broad danube, they proceeded on foot across the country, by paths scarcely trodden, except by their wandering guides. it was with considerable difficulty they gained the river, passing over a long distance of low marshy shore, which here forms its banks, and rousing from their rest the pelican and other wild fowl of this desert region. on a calm and lovely night, they crossed the rapid, but smooth stream, in a boat, pulled by their friends, the tzygani; and, in about an hour, landed in the turkish province of bulgaria. the spot at which they struck the danube was considerably above the walachian town of galatz, near the turkish hirsova, situated on the summit of precipitous rocks close to the river. they did not venture to enter that now ruinous place, as most of the turkish towns taken by the russians in the late war, were still held by their troops. the direct road of the travellers now lay along the southern bank of the danube for a considerable distance, to silistria, a wretched town with a fort, also destroyed by the russians, who yet retained a garrison there. they therefore avoided it, keeping across the country to the left of the road. the hamlets, through which they passed, consisted of about fifty houses, each formed of wicker work plastered over, and kept neat and clean within. the men were clad in brown sheepskin caps, jackets of undyed brown wool, white cloth trowsers, and sandals of raw leather; while the women, who appeared without hesitation before the strangers, were handsome and neatly dressed, all wearing trinkets, the girls having their heads uncovered, and their hair braided and ornamented with different coins. most of the villages were inhabited by turks, except the first at which they arrived. here our fugitives were fortunate in finding that the greater number of the simple and industrious people were christians, by whom they were kindly and hospitably received. the villagers seemed to vie with each other in shewing them attention, insisting on their resting, and taking such refreshment as they could produce, so that in a short time they were again ready to proceed on their road. they here again laid aside the gipsy dress and appearance, and assumed a costume more approaching the european, and which would procure them more respect than they could expect to receive in the other. they also obtained horses to finish the journey across the bulgarian mountains, which form part of the great haemus chain, to varna, the port of their destination, expecting there to find some vessel by which they could reach any other turkish port in communication with circassia. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ note. the above lines have been set to music by miss l. kingston, and published by d'almaine and co. volume , chapter ii. notwithstanding the heat of the noontide sun, which shone forth with the unobscured splendour of a southern clime, our hero and his two followers, who had been travelling since the early morn, still kept the road, eager to reach the coast they were now approaching. mountain after mountain, hill after hill, had been left behind, which at a distance had appeared so steep and lofty as to be almost insurmountable. thus, in the ordinary affairs of life, difficulties which threaten to impede our progress when viewed in long perspective, and from which the faint-hearted turn back in despair, when fairly encountered and grappled with, may often be overcome with half the labour and pain we contemplated. they had just gained the brow of a lofty hill, up which they had been toiling, when a long and glittering line of silvery brightness met their view. "the sea! the sea!" exclaimed ivan, as for a moment the party reined in their steeds, to gaze with interest and curiosity on that longed for sign of the near accomplishment of their weary journey. "onward, my friends, onward!" he added, setting spurs to his horse, impatient to reach that liquid road which now alone separated him from his country. as they rode quickly on, by degrees the line grew broader and broader, till a wide expanse of sea lay before them, heaving in gentle undulations, and shining like a sheet of polished silver. here and there, the tiny white sail of some light caique seemed like a sea bird floating calmly on the waters, and farther off, the loftier sails of larger vessels, seen through the haze caused by the heat, resembled thin and shifting pillars of white smoke. all nature seemed to slumber. not a human being, nor a dumb animal was to be seen abroad. the sails suspended in festoons from the yards of the few vessels floating in the bay, hung down without moving, nor were the crews stirring. not a boat was visible. all were taking their rest, till the great heat of the day should have passed. as the travellers entered the small sea port of varna, the streets also were dull, and deserted; and it was only when they reached the neighbourhood of the few cafenehs, of which the place boasted, that some signs of life were perceived; and, even here, few of the inmates had as yet roused themselves from their mid-day sleep. at the barber's shop also, the loquacious and vivacious operator might be seen just awaking from his slumbers, to welcome his customers, as, one by one, they lazily strolled to his door, either to submit their heads to his care, or to converse with his friends, or with any strangers who could supply the place of newspapers. our travellers first proceeded to the caravanserai, to which they had been directed, to leave their horses to be returned to their owners; and they then repaired to the principal cafeneh, to refresh themselves with food and rest. as they entered, a few of the occupants roused themselves to gaze at the strangers; and in a short time, the coffee-house was again filled with guests. some, forming knots, filled their chibouques, and as they smoked the fragrant weed, discussed various subjects in a grave and solemn tone. here a group of listeners formed a circle round one of those story tellers, to be found in every turkish coffee-house, intently hearing the wonderful tales he narrated, and expressing their satisfaction by low exclamations of applause. ivan and his companions had not been long seated, when a smoking dish of pilau and other turkish dainties were placed before them. while he and his friends were discussing their meal, a party of men had clustered near them; the sound of whose language, as he listened to their voices, made his heart beat with feelings of the most intense interest and delight. he drew in his breath with eagerness as he listened attentively. he could not be mistaken, they spoke in that language heard by him before, only from the mouth of one ardently loved--his mother. those sounds struck a new chord in his feelings. it was his own native tongue. what a tumult of sensations did the words, simple as they were, raise in his bosom! he gasped, in his anxiety not to lose a syllable of the words which fell from the mouths of his newly-found countrymen. he could not remain quiet. he rose, and approached them. he could not withdraw his eyes from them, as he scanned the countenances of each to read their different characters. he longed to address them, but hung back hesitatingly, in fear of not finding suitable expressions. he understood all they said, and their conversation had become deeply interesting to him; but as he attempted to speak, his lips refused to give utterance to what he sought to say. he returned to his seat in despair, but soon again arose, determining to address them. words now flowed rapidly from his mouth. the circassians started, as they first heard one dressed in the frank costume, speaking their own language; but a smile of satisfaction lighted up their countenances as he continued. he told them that he was a circassian, that he sought to reach his native land, in which all his hopes were centered--that he had long lived away from it, and knew not even its customs--that he had undergone many dangers and difficulties in approaching to that point--but that he had not further means to accomplish his purpose. as he finished speaking, a rough weather-beaten man in the turkish dress started up, exclaiming: "the way to get there is clear before you; for my vessel now rides in the bay, waiting only for a fair wind, or any wind at all, to sail direct for the coast. this good company is going with me, and by allah! we will reach it safely, or never trust the reis mustapha, in spite of all the russian fleets that may beset our course. may the evil one possess them, and their mother's sons!" having thus delivered himself of his unusually long oration, he sat down; and a tall and venerable man, who appeared to be the chief of the party, rose to confirm his words. "whoever you may be, young stranger, who, though with a frankish dress and appearance speak our language, and are as you say of our country, you shall be welcome to join our party; and if, with good intentions, you visit the land of the atteghei, i will protect you from all dangers which may beset you, to the utmost of my power." the speaker was dressed in the circassian costume. he bore on his head a white turban. his long beard descended to his breast. he wore a flowing caftan of silk; and at his girdle, a cama or dagger, with a broad two-edged blade, and an ivory handle. his features were handsome, and his eyes sparkled with the fire and animation of youth as he spoke. ivan's heart bounded with joy and gratitude at his words; for one of the last, the greatest difficulties in the accomplishment of his undertaking, was overcome. "willingly do i embrace your valued offer," he said; "and i trust to be able to prove to you and all my countrymen that i go to circassia for the purpose alone of aiding her cause. as yet, i am a man without a name, and without friends: but the time may come when i shall find both, and be able to show my gratitude for your generosity. till then you must be content to remain in ignorance of my previous history. my first endeavour shall be, to gain a noble name by gallant deeds, and thus prove myself worthy of the race from whence i sprung. i will then seek a brave and honoured sire, who may not blush to own his son. till i have accomplished my purpose, i have sworn to conceal my name from all. know me, then, alone as `the stranger.' i bring with me but my own willing arm, and two faithful followers." "it is enough," replied the old man who had before spoken. "nor has hadji guz beg lived so few years in the world that he cannot read the countenances of men. to your's, young stranger, i can fully trust. in it i can read truth and courage. say no more. i seek not to pry into your motives or private history. i have confidence in the one, and sure i am there is no disgrace in the other. you shall join us." "i confidently put myself into your power," said ivan. "you will thus be able to test my truth. for that of my followers i will be answerable." javis and young conrin were now invited to join the party, with whom the former, in his usual manner, soon made himself acquainted. it was arranged that, at dawn of the next morning, the turkish reis mustapha should return to the cafeneh, to conduct ivan and his followers aboard his vessel, when, if the wind proved favourable, they were to set sail immediately. ivan was surprised at his good fortune in finding a vessel at varna, bound for the circassian coast, as he fully expected to be obliged to touch at several turkish ports before he was successful in his search; but it proved that she had been driven, on her passage from the bosphorus, by a violent gale of wind, thus far to the north, when she had been obliged to anchor to save herself from going ashore. a calm had succeeded the gale, which, most fortunately for ivan, had detained her there for several days. the principal person among the passengers was the hadji guz beg, a celebrated circassian leader, now returning from a pilgrimage which he had undertaken to mecca, during a short interval of peace, which the russians had, for their own sakes, afforded his country. he spoke much of the lands he had visited, and the adventures he had encountered, particularly of a visit he had paid to mahomet ali in egypt, when his brother hero received him with affection and respect, urging him to remain some time with him. but news of the war in the caucasus having been renewed had caused him to hurry back to partake in its dangers and excitement. none could look at the old warrior hadji, without believing that he was possessed of the most indomitable spirit and heroic bravery. as we pursue our history, we shall have much more to say of him. the party soon separated, to make the final preparations for their voyage. the indefatigable javis set out to purchase dresses and other necessaries, nearly exhausting the remainder of their money. ivan had determined to make his appearance on the circassian shores in his native costume, throwing aside for ever all marks and remembrances of russian thraldom. conrin wished, also, to adopt the same style of dress, to which his master willingly needed: while javis, who claimed no nation as his own, preferred the turkish habit, as being suited to the language he spoke. javis returned late in the evening, bringing with him a sword of highly tempered damascus steel, which he had obtained with great difficulty; a rifle and dagger for ivan, and a brace of pistols for himself. he had procured, moreover, a handsome circassian coat of dark cloth trimmed with silver, and a red cap, trimmed with fur, with other parts of the dress for his master, and a light-coloured tunic and vest, with a cloak for the page, for whom he also brought a sharp silver-mounted dagger and pistols. it would be difficult to describe the feelings of satisfaction with which ivan assumed the garb of his ancestors. in imagination, he fancied himself at the head of a faithful band of his tribe--if in reality he could claim the rank of leader--ready to rush down on the invaders of his paternal shores; he grasped his sword, gazing on it with a stern and determined eye, and internally vowing never to sheathe it, until they had been driven from the land, or to perish with it bravely in his hand. as he drew himself up to his full height, with eye dilated, thoughts abstracted from all present scenes, he looked in truth already the gallant and brave warrior he fancied himself. so regardless was he of all around him, that he did not observe the glance with which his youthful follower, who had silently and unobserved entered the apartment, regarded him. the boy stood rivetted to the ground as he first caught sight of his master in his new costume; and had ivan wished to know what effect he was likely to produce on others, he might have looked into the countenance of his page, when his vanity would have been fully satisfied. neither spoke for some time; but when ivan at last perceived the youth, "ah! conrin," he cried, "are you come to welcome your master in the free garb of the mountains? rejoice with me, that i no longer feel myself a slave and an alien in a land of tyranny; henceforward you will follow the fortunes of one determined to rise above the frowns of fate. are you still resolved, boy, to share all the dangers and hardships i must encounter, to receive alone the slender reward i may be able to offer? will you now quit me?" "oh, speak not thus, sir," replied the boy; "where you go i will willingly follow, through all dangers, all hardships, even to death: that i may be only near you, to warn you of any threatened harm i may discover, is the utmost reward i seek for my poor services. to nurse you when wounded, to cheer your couch when you might be left to the heartless care of strangers, will be my anxious task. to accompany you on your excursions--to follow you to the field--to fight by your side-- to shield your life, will be my greatest happiness." carried away by his feelings, the boy clasped his hands with energy as he spoke; but in a moment he stopped in confusion, as if he had expressed more than he had intended. ivan looked at him with astonishment. "you are indeed a noble, gallant youth," said he, "though you claim not high birth or descent; i am happy in finding so faithful and true a friend. i could not, if i wished it now, send you back to your country, and much it would grieve my heart to part from you; but i will protect you while i live and have an arm to wield my sword. wherever i go, you shall accompany me; but i fear that you will be exposed to many perils in my sendee; for, believe me, the enemies of my country will not be driven from their attempt, without a fierce and desperate struggle; and it may yet be many years before they are free." "oh, sir, you know not the happiness your words cause in my breast," answered conrin. "with you i shall laugh at all dangers and difficulties, and fear nothing that can happen to me." "i know your regard, my good boy. now, leave me to myself. i would be alone, to meditate on my undertaking. a few days more will carry us to those shores whence i wish never to return." as the page withdrew, he cast a glance of affection at his master, and ivan sunk again into the train of thought from which he had been aroused. at length he rose, and wandered forth by himself, not feeling inclined for the company even of his faithful attendants. he climbed to the summit of the half ruined citadel of the town, and looked forth anxiously on the broad expanse of ocean which lay calm and unruffled at his feet, longing eagerly for a breeze, to fill the sails of the bark which was to carry him and his fortunes to death or victory. but not a breath fanned his cheeks as he waited, long watching, till he saw the sun descend over the land of his destination, in a broad flame of glory, tinging the whole sea with a yellow glow. on every side, the fortifications were in a state of ruin and dilapidation, owing to the severe and protracted siege the town had sustained from the russians, till it was traitorously delivered into their hands by that execrable monster, usef pacha. [vide spenser.] rousing himself, he returned to the cafeneh, where he found young conrin anxiously awaiting his arrival. the boy looked sad and melancholy, till he saw his master's countenance wearing a more serene expression than before, when his features were lit up with pleasure, and he followed him into the house, where they found the hadji, the captain of the zebeque, and the rest of his passengers. the hadji, on first glancing towards ivan, as he entered in his national costume, scarcely knew him, but no sooner did he recognise him, than he rushed forward with outstretched arms to embrace him. "ah, my son," he cried, "i now recognise in you a true scion of the noble race of the _atteghei_; [the name the circassians call themselves] and welcome shall you be to join, with your youthful arm, in our struggle for independence. bismillah! with a few hundred such youths as you at my back, i would take every cursed russian fort on our coast, may the evil one possess them! you, perchance, have no father; i will be to you as one, and you shall be to me as a son. i will protect you from all who shall dare to oppose you, so fear not." "i would wish for no more valiant protector, noble hadji," replied ivan, "and gladly, in all things, will i follow your advice, and profit by your experience. under your guidance, i trust soon to gain that renown after which i thirst, and to shew myself no unworthy child of the atteghei." "you speak well, young man," replied the hadji; "i have grown too old not to boast a little; and you need have no fear of not gaining credit under my standard. bismillah! the fana moscov well know the sight of it. i will shew you what fighting is in a few days, with the blessing of allah!" with such like conversation, the time passed, till all the party sought repose. at the first streak of dawn, ivan started up from the carpet on which he had passed the night, at one end of the divan, summoning javis and his page, who came the moment he heard his master's voice. the hadji, and the rest of the party quickly followed his example, and were met at the door of the cafeneh by the reis, who came in haste to inform them that a breeze, light, though favourable for their voyage, had sprung up. they rowed off into the bay, where the light zebeque lay at anchor, with her sails loosened, and were quickly on board. the anchor was tripped, her head gradually paid off from the wind, and calmly and slowly she glided from the shores of turkey. far in the distance appeared the blue and indistinct ridges of the balcan mountains; before them, the quiet sea; while around passed many of the primitive looking fishing boats, and small coasting vessels, skimming over the waters, their crews habited in picturesque dresses, and gaudy-coloured turbans. no sooner were they under weigh, than the devout mahometans of the party knelt for the performance of morning prayer, while ivan, following their example, offered up his thanks to heaven for his escape from so many and imminent dangers. volume , chapter iii. for several days did the light zebeque, which bore our hero and his fortunes towards his native land, glide calmly and securely over the unruffled surface of the blue and shining waters, without encountering any of those violent, but short lived, tempests for which the euxine is so noted; or, what was still more to be dreaded by the voyagers, without meeting any of the russian cruisers. all on board were congratulating themselves on the calmness of the sea, and the favourable weather, which seemed to promise a prosperous termination to their voyage, when they were doomed to experience how uncertain and changeable are all things here below. the wind, which had hitherto blown gently in their favour, now treacherously shifted round to the north-east, while dark lowering clouds appeared in the horizon ahead. the breeze came at first in fitful and strong gusts, so suddenly commencing, that it scarcely allowed time to the slow-moving turkish seamen to take in their canvass, ere the light vessel heeled over to the strength of the blast, but as they clewed up the sails she again righted. "allah be praised!" exclaimed the sturdy captain of the zebeque, running here and there, encouraging and assisting the people in their exertions to shorten sail; "we shall yet weather such a summer storm as this. bosh! this is nothing. now, my brothers, my dear brothers, work with a good will, and by the blessings of the prophet, no harm will happen to us. keep her well before it, osman," turning to the man at the helm. "we must run before it for a time till the wind moderates, since she will not look up to it. square the yards, my men," as the people descended on deck, having close-reefed the lower sail, and taken in the upper ones. "well done, good brothers, allah is merciful, and we may laugh at the storm." with such like exclamations of encouragement, the reis cheered the men's spirits, instead of swearing at and abusing them, as the commanders of vessels of more civilised nations are apt to do. as the vessel's head turned from the gale, she ran quickly before it, bounding over the low, but froth-covered, hissing and sparkling waves which the squall had raised. the breeze quickly abated, and her head being again brought to the wind in nearly her right course, she dashed bravely through the water, the spray breaking over her bows in showers, sparkling with the hues of the rainbow, and sorely disconcerting her passengers. to our hero, who had never been before on the surface of the ocean, the scene was novel and highly exciting. the waters, so lately smiling in calm and unruffled beauty, were now crested with a white glistening foam; the waves madly danced and sported in confused ridges; the dark clouds chased each other across the sky, and quickly disappeared to leave it blue and clear. from the looks of his seafaring companions, he could have seen that no danger was to be apprehended, had he not been too much occupied with the contemplation of the sudden, and to him, extraordinary change which the face of nature had undergone, to think even for a moment of peril or mishap. the youthful page, standing near his master, kept his eye fixed on his countenance, giving an eager and an inquiring glance; but, reading in his tranquil looks that there was nothing to fear, he seemed perfectly satisfied. javis, who, in his wandering life, had passed over many leagues of sea, saw there was no danger to dread in this summer squall, and with his usual activity was giving his assistance to the sailors. he had already become a great favourite with all the crew and passengers; and even the dignified but kind-hearted hadji regarded him with an eye of favour, as one faithful to the friend to whom he considered himself as protector. young conrin alone kept aloof from the crew in solitude and silence, except when answering a few low words to javis's attentive inquiries, or when ivan addressed him. his countenance would then light up with pleasure and animation, as he poured out his soul in expressions of admiration at the vast changing scene of waters, seeming alike, and yet so different and variable. as the sun sank down beneath the waves, a vast, glowing ball of fire, seeming to throw a liquid flame over the sky to the very zenith, reflecting its burning hue on the dancing waters; the wind fell as suddenly as it had arisen; but in its stead a dense fog came on, so that by the time the shades of night had cast their gloom over the sea, it was scarcely possible to distinguish any object beyond the head of the vessel. nevertheless, with a firm confidence in destiny, the reis kept the zebeque on her course, trusting that she would not be run down by any larger craft in the dark, or meet with any other accident, and throwing himself on his mat spread on the deck, waited for daylight, in the hope of seeing by that time the circassian coast, to which he calculated they were drawing near. the night passed tranquilly; but it was yet scarcely daylight when the breeze, again freshening, partly dissipated the fog, blowing slight openings in some places, and in others wreathing it into thick columns, when the man at the mast-head sung out that he saw a large and towering sail on the weather bow, close aboard them. as he gave the alarm on deck, the reis sprung from his mat and rushed to the helm. the lookout man indicated the direction of the stranger, who evidently did not yet see them, concealed as their low sails were by the fog. nothing daunted, the sturdy captain put the helm up, ordering the yards to be squared, and keeping the vessel's head before the wind, hoping thereby to escape the vigilance of their much-dreaded foe, for there was not the slightest doubt the stranger must be a russian, it being improbable that one of any other nation should be found in those waters. for some anxious minutes it appeared that this manoeuvre had succeeded; and calling on allah and his holy prophet to succour them, he prayed that the fog, again becoming dense, would favour their escape; but it was a narrow chance. should the breeze freshen a little more, it might in a moment blow aside the thin veil which shrouded them, and expose them to their remorseless enemies. ivan, the hadji, and the rest of the passengers, had assembled on deck, and on being informed of the threatened danger, the former, to whom it was the most critical, nerved himself to meet it with fortitude. to fall into the hands of the russians, by whom he would probably be soon recognised, would be utter destruction, perpetual slavery or death. the hadji, forgetful partly of his newly assumed sacred character, drew his sword with one hand, while he commenced telling his beads with the other; and, addressing himself to prayers for their safety, at intervals he hurled abusive epithets at the foe, and uttered words of encouragement to his companions. the rest of the landsmen followed the more pious part of his example, except ivan's two followers, who stood by their master's side, looking as if determined to sell their lives dearly, ere they would permit him to be captured by their hated enemies. the crew, much to their credit, kept at their posts, ready to obey any of the orders the captain might find it necessary to give, in altering their course, or in taking in or making sail. as much canvass had already been spread on the lower yards of the vessel as she could bear, the reis being fearful of setting any more aloft, in case of thus exposing her to the sight of the enemy. the man from the mast-head gave the welcome intelligence, that the russian ship was no where to be seen; but scarcely a minute had elapsed, when another violent and sudden squall struck the zebeque, almost splitting her sails, but, fortunately being before the wind, she scudded on still quicker from the danger. the hopes of all on board, at this chance of escape, were raised high, only to be as quickly and grievously disappointed; for at the same instant, the blast which had struck them cleared away the fog, and discovered a large russian corvette, at some distance fortunately, and heeling over on her beam ends to the violence of the squall, it having caught her it appeared unawares, her people being busily employed in taking in her more lofty sails. it was a moment of deep suspense to all on board the turkish vessel; but a cry of despair arose from her crew, as they saw with their glasses the crew of the corvette descending from her rigging, the sails yet unfurled, the yards being squared as her head came quickly round in the direction they were sailing. onward she proudly came, ploughing with her bow the now fast rising sea, all her sails swelling, as if they would burst from the ropes which confined them. it seemed that no power could stop her course, as throwing the foaming waters aside, she spurned the waves on which she rode. many a cheek on board the turk was blanched with anticipations of the worst, and many a heart trembled which had scarce before felt fear, as the crew looked on their overwhelming pursuer, now rapidly shortening her distance from them. even on the sturdy captain's brow large drops of perspiration stood, as he grasped more firmly the helm, casting many an anxious, but momentary, glance behind him, and then again at his sails and masts to see that they stood the gale; for he knew that his vessel's best point of sailing was before the wind, drawing as she did, so little water, and scarcely seeming to touch the waves as she bounded along before them. dark and thick masses of clouds rose rapidly behind the enemy, causing her sails to appear of snowy whiteness, and making her seem still more alarmingly near than she really was. as yet, however, for fear of stopping her way, she had not fired her guns, being perfectly certain of quickly catching her tiny chase. the turmoil of the foaming waves, now lashed into ungovernable fury, increased each moment, while the thick heavy clouds, clashing in their hurried and disordered race, sent forth reiterated peels of thunder, and vivid and sharp flashes of forked lightning darted through the air. the rising sun had for a moment shed forth his beams on the scene of tumult, casting a bright glittering light on the madly leaping waves; but as if angry at the wild uproar, again concealed his glory behind the clouds, leaving a deep gloom on the disturbed waters. the huge billows rolled along side of the little bark; and, following up astern, as if eager to grasp her beneath their vortex, threatened every moment to overwhelm her. still, however, keeping before them, she seemed thrown from wave to wave; her head now dashed into the frothy, boiling cauldron, and now lifted high above the sea, while a dark abyss threatened below, and a towering billow seemed about to break over, and inundate her. at intervals also, the clouds, to add to the disorder, sent forth deluges of rain so thick, as almost to conceal their vast pursuer from view; but when again it subsided, she was seen approaching still nearer to them. at length, the russian, angry and weary of the long chase, yawed a little, and discharged his bow chasers in hopes of crippling the turk, and bringing him to; but the balls either plunged into the leaping waves, or flew high above his masts, as difficult it was to take any certain aim, while so high a sea was running. when the missiles of destruction passed thus wide of their mark, a laugh of defiance, which sounded much like desperation, escaped the reis, as he watched where they fell. the corvette continued firing, as fast as the people could load the guns, but without doing any damage to the chase; and of course, the manoeuvre constantly repeated, made her fall further astern, till hopeless of hitting so small a mark at that distance, she desisted from firing; and continuing the pursuit, followed, according to the shiftings of the wind, the devious track of the zebeque. the gale as if wearied by its own violence, seemed to have expended its fury, and to be passing over; first leaving the larger vessel astern, which was preparing to make more sail, when it shifted round suddenly to the west with redoubled fury. though the zebeque was thus placed to windward, it was certain destruction to attempt bringing so crank and light a vessel as she was, broadside on to that raging sea, which would, in an instant, have overwhelmed her; on a wind being her worst point of sailing. the only alternative of unavoidable and quick destruction, was to run still on before it, and thus to bring the vessel under the very bows of her gigantic opponent. few men, however brave, will rush with their eyes open on certain death, if it is to be avoided. not a moment was to be lost in deliberation, and as the renewed fury of the gale struck her, the zebeque's head was again turned towards the east, rapidly approaching the enemy. the respective positions of the vessels may be thus described. the corvette was to the north, with her head south-east, while the turk was running due east; thus approaching each other on two sides of a triangle, of which the apex was towards the east. now was the most trying moment for all on board the turkish vessel, yet still there was one remote chance of escape--a hazardous one unquestionably; and yet, in preference to captivity, it was worth while to risk destruction. they might, by running down to the russian, and pretending to submit, pass under her stern, and escape before the wind. yet it was an experiment, the very mention of which might be derided as the proposition of madmen. the moment the russian perceived the change of course the chase had made, the corvette hauled her wind without stopping to take in sail, and recommenced firing her guns, to allow no chance to escape, should the wind again fail, of capturing her almost certain prey. the balls, as before, at first flew harmlessly through the air, or plunged into the deep, as, towering in her pride; on she came, heeling over to the furious blast, and casting the foaming waters high over her broad swelling lofty bow. yet the power, the majesty of man's greatest achievement, seemed as nought amid the strife and tumult of nature. the roar of the artillery was mocked to scorn by the far louder crash of heaven's thunder, and the wild tumult of the waves. the flashes of the guns were far outshone by the brightness of the vivid lightning; but none in either vessel seemed to regard the violent fury of the elements, too intent were they on their own desperate game. during this awful and critical interval, ivan stood firm and collected, though a sad fate seemed to await him. on one side, he saw imprisonment, degradation, and a hopeless exile: on the other, a certain death, should the russians, as was but too probable, when there was no prospect of a prize of value, run down the vessel which had given them so much trouble; or if she refused to yield, sink her with their guns. ivan earnestly prayed for the latter fate: for of what value would life be to him, with all its lofty aspirations overthrown, his hopes blasted? what but misery and hopeless slavery, chains and toil, could he expect, if he escaped with life? javis had brought him his sword, which he held firmly in his grasp, yet somewhat mechanically, perhaps, as if it would be a satisfaction to die with that in his hand: while javis, casting glances of scowling defiance towards the foe, stood ready to defend his master if it were possible. and young conrin, where was he during this time of tumult and danger? calm and undismayed, he too stood by his master's side. his courage seemed to have risen with the imminence of the danger. it was not ignorance of the peril of their situation which gave him that cool and intrepid air; for he marked it well, as with unflinching glance he gazed ever and anon at the coming foe, and then fixed his large flashing eye intently on his master's face. his brow and cheek were paler than usual, and his lips compressed: yet it seemed that, although an awful death was about to overwhelm all on board, his features wore an air of almost satisfaction and happiness; but he spoke not, nor moved from his post. it was strange that so young a boy should show such courage at so trying a moment, when hardy seamen quailed and turned pale with terror. well did the gallant old hadji show that his heart was fearless, and that he was a warrior-leader of a brave people, whom no danger could daunt, as rousing himself from his prayers, he stood defying his enemies, and prepared for the worst. of his followers and the crew, some took courage from his example, and bravely grasped their arms, in the futile hope of, at least, having one blow for life; while others, pallid and trembling with dismay, tried to shelter themselves behind the bulwarks of the vessel. the russians continued firing without intermission, the shots every instant falling closer to the mark, till one went through the turk's after-sail, and another followed, striking his deck, ploughing up the wood, and throwing the splinters on every side, ere it bounded overboard. a few more fell harmlessly; but they were now approaching frightfully near the russian, and they could scarcely hope to escape more of his shots. another of these missiles came on board tearing away part of the bulwarks, striking one of the seamen, and carrying his mangled body with it into the sea. at this event, even the hardy captain's presence of mind forsook him: his courage for a moment gave way; and quitting his post, he wrung his hands in despair, leaving the vessel to her fate. at this critical juncture, ivan sprang aft, seizing the captain by the arm, and forced him to resume his place at the helm. "for shame, reis mustapha!" he exclaimed. "you, have hitherto behaved like a brave, good seaman, continue to prove that you really are one. regard not the shots till they sink us. that can but be our fate at the last, when all hope has flown. while you live, use all means, all exertions to escape, for providence may yet rescue us from destruction." "ay, ay, my brother," interrupted the brave old hadji. "give not way to despair while a hope remains. cowards alone do that. think you that i have prayed to allah and his prophet for no purpose, that he should thus abandon his servants? have i journeyed to his holy city, and kissed the sacred kaaba for nought? still hope that our time is not yet come." "the noble hadji speaks truly," added ivan. "take the helm, reis, and guide us straight onward. we shall soon know the worst." the reis obeyed; taking the tiller from the hands of javis, but with a look which plainly indicated that he was without hope. by this time they were close to the corvette; but her guns were now more carelessly aimed, from the certainty the russians felt of capturing the chase. the awful, the dreaded moment approached, which would too probably consign every human being on board the zebeque to eternity, for their huge opponent seemed determined to run them down if their colours were not instantly lowered, and even then there was but little chance of their escaping that fate. another moment and the next vast surge would bring her upon them! a more tremendous blast than they had hitherto felt now struck them, hurling their tiny bark before it into the very jaws of the foe. deluges of thick rain rushed down, while a loud roar thundered from the clouds, and a vivid flash of lightning darted through the air. a loud shriek of despair rose from the crew: their fate was sealed. "allah protect us!" cried the hadji. "this is an awful time." the bravest gasped for breath; the deck seemed to shake beneath their feet. the sea dashed over them, but the thick falling rain obscured all around from their sight. the young page gazed more earnestly at his master, but his limbs trembled not, nor did a word escape his lips. the dreaded shock came not; the vessel still floated on the waves; the thick rain ceased. again a cry arose from the turkish crew, but it was no longer that of terror. "where is the giaour? where is the russian ship?" was uttered by the voices of all. they had passed her. there she lay, close on their quarter, with her head to the wind, her foremast shattered to the deck, the spars and rigging dashing against her sides, her bulwarks stove in: the proud ship of russia, was a wreck--she was on fire! even at that moment of confusion, some small guns were fired over her stern, with a determined feeling of animosity and revenge, in the hopes of doing some injury, but their shot fell impotently into the waves, and the crew were too much occupied with their own preservation, to pay any further attention to the hard-driven chase. loud prayers ascended from the deck of the turk, for their narrow and providential escape; ivan's heartbeat quicker with gratitude than it had with fear; while young conrin clasped his hands with silent fervour, and seemed ready to fall at his master's feet with joy. the hadji, having concluded his brief prayer, exclaimed; "did i not tell you, reis, that allah would protect us, that my prayers would not be in vain? look, where the late impious kaffir lies shattered and scathed by heaven's rage, at the very moment he thought himself secure of his prey. another time think not that it is your kismet [fate] to die; that will come in allah's good time; but strive on always to the last. think you my countrymen could hold out against our mighty foe, if we thought that it was our kismet to be conquered? bosh! kismet is a good thing, when it points to victory; but else it is nonsense. no, my brother, no; strive while you can, and yield to fate only when it overpowers you." these principles the gallant hadji not only preached, but with the rest of his countrymen, practised. as the danger diminished, so did the courage of the terror-stricken crew return. they taunted with gestures their crippled and now impotent foe, as the light zebeque bounded away from her before the gale. "why don't you come on now?" some cried. "see, giaour; see, cowardly kaffir, we are sailing away from you; why don't you follow us as before? come on, then, come on. we cannot wait for you. we are in a hurry to pursue our voyage." with such like expressions the crew shewed their delight at their escape, while rapidly scudding onward they soon run the corvette out of sight. as long as her movements could be distinguished, she remained with her head still to the wind, dipping her bows under the waves which broke in deluges over her. thick wreaths of smoke rose from that part of her deck where her foremast had stood, curling round her remaining masts as it was blown aft; but that in time decreased, and the fire was apparently got under. so little mercy had she shewn to the zebeque, that no commiseration was felt for her fate, whatever it might be. those only who have escaped from imminent peril, when either death or slavery has been about to overtake them, can fully enter into the feelings of gratitude and satisfaction which our hero experienced, as the last topmast sails of the russian ship sank below the horizon; and those only who have seen a loved object rescued from a threatened danger, can feel as the young conrin did; for few could love so well as that strangely enthusiastic and romantic boy loved his master. they continued on their course, running all day before the wind, which drove them towards their destination, each moment dreading to fall in with another russian cruiser; but not a sail appeared to alarm them. by night the wind, still keeping favourable, subsided to a gentle breeze, while a sharp lookout was kept from the mast-head for another enemy, or to discover the coast, which they knew they must be now nearing. volume , chapter iv. the territory of the circassian tribes is bounded on the north by the river kouban, which separates it from the lands now inhabited by the tchernemorskoi cossacks, whom the russians--after utterly annihilating the former inhabitants, (not using the words in a figurative sense)-- placed there as a rough and sturdy outwork to their empire. from the mouths of the kouban it is bounded by the black sea, the coast trending from the north-west to the south-east as far as iscuria, on the mouth of the salamache river, which separates it on the south from the province of mingrelia, now nominally subject to russia. to the south-east is the former kingdom of georgia, now also brought under subjection to the same benign and far reaching power. to the north-east, the sources of the kouban and some of its numerous mountain tributaries pass through its present borders, the plains beyond having been conquered by russia. to the east, the boundaries are uncertain, depending on those natural fortifications, the inaccessible cliffs of the caucasus; but the tribes even to the very shores of the caspian, have set their invaders at defiance, and have joined the league of the patriot circassians. circassia proper is divided into lower abasia to the north, bordering on the kouban, and upper abasia to the south; the inhabitants of the former being by far the most civilised and polished of the two, though both equally cordial in detestation of their invaders. these two divisions are again separated into provinces, those of nottakhaotzi, khapsoukhi, bredoukha, and of the demirghoi, in lower abasia, which is the part of the country to which we are about to introduce our readers. the tribes keep distinct from each other, though the members of each live scattered about in all parts of the country. the whole of the independent part of circassia is mountainous, that alone having: been able to withstand the immensely superior force which the russians brought against them; but the tribes of the plains equally hate their conquerors, and take every opportunity of escaping to join their still free countrymen. indeed, the whole, or greater part, of some tribes have migrated to the mountains to be released from russian oppression, leaving their homes, their fields, and their property, to ruin and destruction. there are no cities or towns in circassia; the inhabitants preferring the freedom and health of a mountain life to the trammels and formality of the city, and each chief choosing the most beautiful and romantic spot for his habitation, while his followers and dependents collect in hamlets in the neighbourhood. the principal rivers falling into the kouban are the kara kouban, the ubin, the aranos, the laba, and the urup; those which empty themselves into the black sea are the sukhoi, the mezi, near the russian fort ghelendjik, the toughe, the soubachi, which divides upper and lower abasia, the kenehili, the llhena, the kodos, and the salmache, which separates the country from mingrelia. numerous other streams and rivulets meander through the whole country, and fertilise every vale. at the time to which our story refers, the russians had succeeded in erecting several forts in the boundaries of the country; those of anapa and ghelendjik on the coast, both built under the protection of a powerful army, aided by the guns from their ship. they have established also a line of fortified towns to the north of the kouban, the principal of which are ekatermodar, labinskai, stavrapol, alexandrof, and georgivesk, forming a road of communication from the black sea towards the caspian, called the valdi caucasse. but even between these towns the russians cannot move except with a strong escort, as otherwise they would run the greatest risk of being cut off by the mountaineers, who descending from their fastnesses, frequently make excursions far beyond them. there are also other forts of less importance, which will be mentioned in the course of our history. the origin of the circassians, like that of all nations who have tradition alone to hand down their history, is clouded in obscurity. they themselves do not pretend to know from what race they are sprung, but it is certain that they are of very great antiquity, and have in all ages been celebrated for their bravery and other warlike qualities, their courtesy, and the surpassing beauty of their women. at one period they inhabited an extended tract of territory, comprising the crimea, and all the country bordering on the sea of marmora and the euxine; but the tribes dwelling in that country either became amalgamated with the tartars, or were driven thence by the superior numbers of that people, as the pure stock is now only to be found among the mountains of the caucasus, or in the plains immediately below them. it seems probable, that the circassians are of median extraction, and were at one time as civilised as any of the surrounding nations, if not more so: but it must be confessed that they have not advanced, even with the same steps in the arts and sciences as their neighbours; though they retain in a greater degree the polished and courteous manners, and heroic virtues which formed the pride of the nations of antiquity. the tribes which boast of belonging to the purer race, unmixed with any foreign blood, distinguish themselves by the name of atteghei, and as in great and little karbadia, their language is spoken with the greatest purity. those provinces have most likely from time immemorial, been inhabited by the true circassians, who thence scattered themselves over the surrounding districts, either by conquest, or by finding the land unoccupied. the people to whom we give the general name of circassians, call themselves atteghei; some writers mention them as carbadians, from their former country of karbadia, while the turks and russians call them without distinction, abasians. there are four classes of society among them, the first, that of the pchees or princes, who are the heads of the most powerful tribes; the ouzdens or nobles, many of whom, at present, have no real power, but who disdain to intermix their blood with those below them; the tocavs or freemen, many of whom possess wealth, and are, except in blood, equal to the nobles; and lastly, the serfs, or slaves taken in war, who in time become incorporated into the tribes of their masters, and may gain their freedom. the power of the princes has of late years much declined, though they are treated with the strictest observances of respect, by those of inferior rank. in some tribes, the chiefs are hereditary, while in others, a head is chosen among the principal nobles of their own tribe, for his life, except he should prove incapable, in which case he is deposed, and another elected in his stead. at times also, instead of the head of the tribe, a leader is chosen to conduct them to war, while the former acts in a civil capacity alone. in no country is greater respect shewn by inferiors to those above them in rank or age; and in no country has the spirit of clanship been carried further, all being bound to revenge the death of one of their tribe on the slayer; and, should the offender not be given up, on the life of any member of his family; the lex talionis, being indeed the principal law of the land, as it must be in all countries, where there is no fixed government to dispense justice. the government, indeed, such as it is, may be looked upon rather as a republic, than as an oligarchy; for those of all ranks may give their opinion, and vote at the public meetings, though the princes and chiefs of clans have the most influence, and their sentiments are looked upon with the greatest respect. perhaps, no country is more free, or governed with so much regularity and order. each man may if oppressed, leave his chief, and put himself under the protection of another; changing his lands at will to any spot he may find unoccupied, no one having the right of keeping lands he does not cultivate. though, for many generations, they have remained under successive descendants of the same chief; they are bound by no other tie, than that of love and respect, while so carefully does each class guard its own privileges, that no chief has ever succeeded in uniting the whole under his own authority. their laws are few and simple, exactly suited to their state of society, and so strictly enforced, that they are comparatively rarely infringed; each tribe being answerable for the crimes of any individual member, who consequently offends equally against his own friends. all claims are settled by a jury, composed of six members from the respective tribes, and are generally arranged by payment of fines, two hundred head of oxen, being the fine for manslaughter, and so on for theft, abduction, etc. should the fine not be paid by the time agreed on, the sufferers carry off the cattle, and destroy the fences and fields of the offenders. it must be understood, that these tribes of the atteghei are not distinct races, but merely families who have been, perhaps for ages, bound together by a solemn oath, to support each other in every way, forming a brotherhood, as it were, who consider themselves so nearly related, that they may not even intermarry with each other. the religious faith of the people, is formed of a belief in one omnipotent being, and in the immortality of the soul; but they have no established priests. the elders and most venerable chiefs, or those most noted for piety, together with their aged bards, perform the few and simple ceremonies of religion. their place of worship is in some secluded grove of aged and lofty trees, held sacred for ages by their ancestors, whose tombs lie around them. let our readers ask themselves, if such worship is not more likely to be grateful to the divine being, than the gross superstition and bigoted idolatry of the benighted russian, who scarcely knows the name of his maker. there is not the slightest doubt, but that christianity was at one time the prevailing religion of the country, as there are numerous crosses in all parts, still looked up to with veneration by the people; and there are the ruins also of several churches. it is said, that in some parts of the interior of the more remote districts of upper abasia, the people still profess christianity unmixed with any pagan observances. the circassians divide the week as among us, considering sunday as the most sacred day. easter is celebrated by them as a holy feast, with the utmost pomp, beginning with a strict fast. they have several saints or inferior deities, guardians, they say, of the air, water, the harvest, the summer, in whose honour they hold festivals at stated seasons, as in catholic countries; particularly one, which they celebrate much in the same manner as the feast of st. john, in some parts of germany, by decking a tree with flowers, lights, and other ornaments. except on these particular days, they do not pay their presiding guardians any attention, nor even then, do they pray to them, but offer up sacrifices by immolating victims on an altar, according to the old pagan custom of greece and rome. they meet in the sacred groves to pray before going to battle, and after a victory. no religious ceremonies take place at their marriages, the couple being alone betrothed in the presence of their friends, (as is now the lawful way of coupling people in civilised england) when a feast is given, and games take place. the burial ceremonies, even of a chief or warrior, are simple, consisting of a funeral oration, pronounced over his grave, while hymns are sung by those who attend the procession to his last resting-place. the anniversary of his death is celebrated with feasts, and prayers over his tomb, decked with flowers. mahometism has of late years been introduced into the caucasus by the turks, and some mosques have been established, but it has not gained much ground; their ancient institutions being too deeply rooted in the affections of the people, though numbers now profess it, but conform to its customs, as far only as their inclination leads them. the circassians are, in general, a most abstemious people, living chiefly on a farinaceous diet, and though possessing spirituous liquors and wine, they use them in moderation, indulging in them, as well as in meat, only on their great feasts. they are hospitable in an unbounded degree, their guest-houses ever standing open for the reception of visitors, but they have been taught, by the vilest treachery, too often practised against them by the instigation of the russians, to be suspicious of strangers coming without a recommendation to them. any one, however, who may visit their country under the protection of one of their chiefs, they are ready to protect to the utmost with their lives, each noble vieing with the other in paying their guest attention. they have the deepest veneration for age, listening to the counsels of their elders, and obeying their commands. to the female sex also, they pay the most chivalrous devotion. their minstrel's highest theme, next to their warrior's deeds, is the praise of woman's charms, and the proudest noble treats the lowly maiden with every consideration and respect, nor thinks himself demeaned in aiding her in any occupation in which she may be engaged. the lower orders are in the habit of sending their daughters to the constantinopolitan matrimonial market, (for so it is to them,) receiving, however, some valuable consideration, to insure their safe arrival there. the circassians also take every precaution to hear continually of the welfare of their daughters in turkey; nor do they ever compel them to go against their will, or, as in the more civilised countries of europe, drive them to contract a hateful marriage, or offer them the dreadful alternative of being immured for life in a convent. the nobles never allow their daughters to marry, except with one of their own rank, and when they send them to stamboul, it is to become the chief sultana of some pacha's harem, an arrangement the fair girls consider the happiest fate which could befall them, though exchanging the liberty of their mountains for riches, splendour, and a prison, but gaining what they never could at home, entire liberty, on the death of their lord, and frequently considerable wealth. the circassian girls are much prized in the turkish harems, beyond their beauty, for their various useful and ornamental accomplishments. we have said that there are no towns, the people living in villages, hamlets, or detached dwellings. the houses consist only of a ground floor, built of wood plastered over, and neatly thatched. the dwelling of a chief consists of several separate divisions: the anderoon, or women's apartments; that of the lord himself; and the guest-house; besides the houses of the servants, the granaries, and stables for the horses and cattle. it is curious to see the interior of what appears a humble cottage, filled with rich couches of silk, magnificent turkey carpets, splendid armour and weapons, inlaid tables and other valuable articles. some of the villages are fortified, but in a manner to afford no protection against cannon. they are generally situated by the side of some limpid stream, and in the most picturesque situations. they speak a language entirely different from any other known tongue; but turkish and arabic is understood by many of their chiefs, who have served in turkey and egypt. several also have been in the russian service; but have returned to their native country to defend her rights, in preference to indulging in luxury and ease under a despot. they say that their fighting men amount to two hundred thousand; but every man amongst them is a warrior. the arts are at a very low ebb among them, though they possess the greatest skill in forging their armour and weapons, which they emboss beautifully. they also work in gold and silver embroidery; but it must be confessed they are totally ignorant of science, nor have they even a written language, and very few among them can read turkish, though they pay the greatest respect to the koran, with which they administer their oaths. they are very industrious, having brought their lands into the highest state of cultivation, thus enabling them within a small extent of country, aided by the fertility of the soil, to support a large population. the farms are kept with the greatest neatness, and surrounded with thriving orchards. they possess also large flocks and herds. on all public occasions and when engaged in war, the chiefs wear complete suits of splendid armour, much like that of the ancient persians, from whose country they sometimes procure it at the present day. on a foray, when activity is most requisite, and they wish not to be distinguished from their followers, they have under their ordinary dress, light coats of chain armour of most exquisite workmanship, many of which are made in the country, and others come from persia. they possess rifles and pistols, but many still use the long bow and arrow, with which they can take the most deadly aim. they have also long swords, and the broad two-edged dagger, such as was used by the romans of old, a most murderous weapon in their hands. they use also a sharp straight sabre without a guard to the hilt. the ordinary dress of all classes is elegant and picturesque. there are numerous wild animals in circassia, such as bears, wolves, jackals, and stags, which the people eagerly hunt. their horses are celebrated for speed and strength, and they are perhaps the most expert horsemen in the world. we will now sum up the character of the circassians. no one, even their enemies, can deny that they possess the most heroic bravery and undaunted courage, the most devoted love of liberty, are hospitable to the utmost of their means, generous in the extreme, virtuous in their lives, and abstemious in their habits; that they venerate age, are courteous and gentle to their women, polished in their manners to each other, more especially to strangers, humane to their prisoners, have a firm reliance on the goodness of the divinity, a deep sense of religion, and the strictest regard to an oath, which is inviolable among them; and yet, this being no highly coloured or overdrawn character, these are the people, whom the russian stigmatise as untameable barbarians, whom it will be a benefit to the human race to sweep from the face of the earth. volume , chapter v. the now calm, glass-like waters shone with a rich glow of orange tint reflected from the sky, as the sun rose in majestic glory from his ocean bed. the sails of the turkish bark caught the radiance, as, impelled by a gentle air, she glided through the sea of molten gold. as the deep glow gradually faded from the horizon, leaving a clear view of the ocean's margin, the man from the mast-head shouted in tones of delight, "abasa! abasa! land! land! the land of circassia!" the effect was electrical. all on board turned their gaze towards the east. the hadji and the devout mahometans ceased from their morning prayer; the seamen mounted the rigging; and, as a light gauze-like veil of mist was drawn up to the sky, the blue mountains of the lofty caucasian range appeared just rising above the waters in the far distance. ivan's heart beat with enthusiastic delight as he gazed on the land of his birth, the land of all his most romantic aspirations. the accomplishment of his eager wishes--the fulfilment of his vow--would not much longer be deferred. his earnest gaze was fixed on the scene, as mountain after mountain, and hill after hill, rose to view. as the zebeque glided swiftly towards land, the more minute details of the landscape could be distinguished; mountains of every fantastic form were seen piled one on another, clothed with verdure from the bright water's edge to the topmost peak, where they seemed lost in the pure blue sky. trees of various foliage bent over precipitous and rugged cliffs, bounding a smiling valley, through which meandered a sparkling stream; by its banks grazed herds of cattle while numerous horses galloped in unrestrained freedom over the velvet lawn. the zebeque had made the shore rather too far to the south of their destination, and as she coasted calmly along, ivan gazed with enraptured and untiring eye on the lovely scene. far as the eye could reach, up the sides of the steep sloping hills, numerous flocks of white sheep were seen quietly grazing, and from craig to craig, bounded nimbly with long and slender limbs the jet black goats. he looked on the unostentatious abodes of his countrymen, their little cots built on the slopes of the gently swelling hills, amid fields of ripening corn, their farm yards surrounded by groves of trees covered with fruit, from among which the thin smoke from their domestic hearths curled upward in wreathy pillars. all around appeared the abodes of contentment and peace--how sadly deceitful and treacherous. in another day all might be laid waste, and a howling desert usurp its place. the lately dignified hadji, excited to the most enthusiastic delight, walked the deck with the activity of youth, pointing out to ivan the names of the different little inlets, bays, valleys, and mountains as they coasted along. they were saluted too, as they passed, by many a band of warriors, hastening towards the scene of strife in the north, where their invaders had landed. many a gallant chief, in his war array, his bright armour glittering in the sun, galloped by, waving his shining sword to salute them, attended by a band of followers, shouting defiance to their foes, and singing hymns of victory. no one seemed to enter into ivan's feelings so well as young conrin, whose eyes brightened with delight unusual to him as he gazed ever and anon at his master's countenance: and then turned them towards the lovely scene, whose beauties he seemed to enjoy the more that they were seen by one he loved. the spot where the reis had appointed to land was near the bay of pchad, in sight of which they soon came. here a dense forest covered, with thickest foliage, both the mountain side and the shore to the very water's edge, affording a secure shelter to the inhabitants, should any of their enemies attempt to land in order to destroy their vessels. the zebeque ran boldly on towards the smooth yellow sand, almost overshadowed by the trees; and as she neared the shore, a man, whose glittering armour and helmet, decked with an eagle's plume, betokened him a chieftain, approached the water, mounted on a coal-black steed, and urging the noble animal up to his girths into the sea, he waved his sword, and courteously beckoned to the strangers to land. having saluted them, he again slowly and with dignity retired from the shore. as the vessel's keel almost touched the sand, her anchor was let go, her sails being quickly furled by her eager crew, delighted at thus having brought their hazardous adventure to a successful issue. in a moment, she was surrounded by boats from the shore, to lighten her of her cargo ere she was drawn up on the beach beneath the shelter of the trees. into the first the hadji, our hero, and his two followers stepped; and as her bow touched the strand of circassia, the natives flocked around, eager to welcome the strangers to their shores. ivan's heart leaped with joy as his foot touched his native land; and he would have knelt down in gratitude to heaven, and kissed the soil he had so eagerly longed to tread, but that the presence of the surrounding multitude prevented his giving way to his feelings. for an instant, then, that sensation of blankness, of loneliness, that unsatisfied feeling, which sometimes comes over us, when we fancy that our desires are accomplished, seized him, and oppressed his spirits, as accompanied by his two retainers, he followed the hadji towards the spot to which the chieftain had retired. no sooner did the latter see the hadji approaching, than he leaped from his steed, which his squire held while he hastened to meet him. the two aged men, for the noble warrior seemed far advanced in years, rushed forward; their dignity thrown aside, and falling on each other's necks, they embraced and almost wept for joy. "my brother!" exclaimed the aged chief; "hast thou, indeed, again returned to me from thy long and perilous pilgrimage among strange people? do i again see the noble pride of our race in life and strength? allah be praised for all his mercies!" "yes, my brother!" rejoined the hadji, "yes, allah is merciful. i have escaped all dangers, and my heart rejoices to see you still able to bear arms against our foes; but say, my brother, how fares my son alp, my well-loved young son? does the boy live? does he still follow up the early promise of his youth?" "your son, my brother, is well worthy of your name. he still dwells with his attalick; but being well skilled in all martial exercises, he is now able to follow you to the field, and has already gained some honour against the enemy. it will rejoice your heart to see him, and you will seem to live your youth over again as you recognise yourself in him." "to allah and his prophet be all praise," replied the hadji, piously. "then am i content. but say, my brother, does my wife still live to rejoice in the growing promise of our son?" "yes, yes, she still lives." "allah be praised!" again ejaculated the hadji. "and say, does my sister still live; does she also rejoice in the noble deeds of your gallant sons? are they yet numbered among the stern bulwarks of our country? do their steeds yet carry them like thunder-bolts against the foe?" the old warrior shook his head. "alas! my brother, the leaden death of the hated urus [the name the circassians give to the russians] have laid two in the graves of our fathers, where they sleep the sleep of the brave; but the rest yet remain to avenge their fate." "god is great," answered the hadji, "and by his prophet's help we will yet take ample vengeance on their destroyers." "allah is merciful, and will give us blood for blood," replied the other. "but think not that they died ere they had made their foes pay dearly for their death. no, hundreds of the slavish urus fell before their conquering sabres; and in that thought, i cease to mourn, but yet what are the lives of a thousand urus to one true son of the atteghei?" "bosh! as nothing. as chaff to corn, as dross to pure gold; but we will avenge them brother," said the hadji, grasping his sword. "my heart will beat with joy, when i find myself once more among their ranks." "that may soon be; for their ships, but a short time ago, landed a large force on the coast to the north, who are yet shut up in their fort. but say, who are these strangers who accompany you? what do they here?" "in the first joyful moment of meeting you i thought not of them, but will now attend to the duties of hospitality," and introducing ivan, the hadji added, "i bring with me, one who is our countryman, my adopted son, next to alp in my love; regard him as such, for my sake." "to me he will always be welcome," replied the chief, taking ivan by the hand. "and i will believe that he is worthy to be a true son of the atteghei. but come, we will waste no further time here. he and his attendants shall accompany us, while some of my followers shall stay to bring up your goods from the vessel. we will at once repair to the dwelling of the noble prince of pchad, whither i was bound, when i saw your vessel approaching the land. he will welcome you with the arms of friendship. away, my deli khans," he cried, addressing several young men who surrounded him. "give notice to the noble prince of our coming, and say, moreover, that some strangers accompany us." the chieftain, and his brother, the hadji led the way from the sea shore, accompanied by ivan, and followed by a numerous band of active young mountaineers, each completely armed, with a gun slung on his back, a sword by his side, and a dagger in his belt, to which several had added pistols. their dress consisted of a coat, fitting close to the body, of dark cloth trimmed with silver, without a collar, and open at the neck, secured by loops in front, and having long hanging sleeves; the skirts reached completely round to the knees, wide trowsers of a darkish green colour, tightening at the calf, embroidered boots of dressed leather, and belts round their waists of the same. their bonnets were of sheepskin or dark cloth. altogether the costume was elegant and picturesque. the party proceeded for a short distance through a thick grove, on a gentle slope, which soon terminated in rough cliffs rising abruptly from the lower ground, under the shelter of wide-spreading beech trees of vast height, and of venerable oaks, extending their leafy boughs, almost to the water's edge. they soon arrived at the entrance of a beautiful valley, which extended in a winding course far inland. after passing some way through it, they were entirely shut in by rocky cliffs, or steep, almost precipitous hills, yet clothed with the graceful linden, the dark leaved mulberry, the magnificent chestnut, the dark and silvery olive, and many other trees; and as they wound their way up the steep sides of the hills, they passed beneath natural arbours of the high creeping vine, and the graceful hop, which twined their slender tendrils from tree to tree, and from peak to peak. the distant scenery was still hidden by the leafy shelter, when a successive discharge of fire arms was heard, and as they emerged from the thickets into an open space on the summit of the hill, a party of young cavaliers was seen galloping towards them at desperate speed, flourishing their swords, and firing off their pistols, and uttering shouts of congratulation and welcome; to which the old chief's party answered when the others rushing forward, joined their ranks. a beautiful village of low cottages scattered among the trees now appeared. apart from the rest, and having greater pretentions to architectural grandeur, stood a dwelling, surrounded with several other buildings appertaining to it. from the principal gate-way in the fence, which enclosed it, was seen advancing towards the party, a personage, whose appearance struck ivan with admiration. his long, flowing, and blanched beard, the deep lines which furrowed his expressive countenance, and his attenuated figure, bespoke him a man far advanced in the vale of years, though his eye still glowed with some of the fire of youth. he walked erect and firm, clothed in complete armour, with helmet on head, cuirass and cuisses of polished steel plates richly embossed, as with a noble and dignified air, he advanced to meet his guests, and to welcome them to his home. he courteously pressed their hands. "welcome, my noble friend," he said, addressing the chief, "and you, oh venerable hadji, who by the blessing of allah, have returned from your travels, to bring wisdom and knowledge to our country. welcome also to these strangers, who, under thy protection, i will receive as my sons and friends. my house, and all whom mahmood commands, are at your orders--" "most noble prince," replied the hadji, as spokesman of the party, "not the least of my happiness in returning again to my loved country, is to see you still alive, and ruling your people with wisdom and justice. gladly will we partake of your well-known hospitality." saying which, the hadji led the way to the guest-house, to which the prince pointed, following himself in the rear of the party, who entering, took their seats on broad cushions or ottomans, which surrounded the room; their arms being hung up on the walls by attendants in waiting. the aged host would not take a seat, till the hadji and his brother had earnestly pressed him to do so. "rest here awhile," he said, "till my women can prepare food to refresh you after your voyage. do not imagine, that though daily threatened by a descent of our deadly enemy, i cannot, as in other days, prepare a banquet for a thousand or more of our gallant warriors, if they should honour me by a visit." the conversation now became general. the hadji had many inquiries to make, and much to relate; and as the time wore on, several nobles of lesser rank, and importance in the neighbourhood, and subject to the prince of pchad, entered, and took their seats on the divan. ivan was silent, listening with interest to the conversation, while his two attendants stood respectfully among the others at the further end of the room. the subject of discourse then turned entirely on the state of the country; the uzden achmet beg, the hadji's brother, giving him an account of the different military operations which had occurred since the commencement of the campaign. "bismillah!" exclaimed the old chief. "we have well beaten the cursed urus, whenever we could catch them beyond the shelter of their fortresses, where we coop them up like so many sheep in their pens. they talk of occupying our country; why, they have in all but three or four forts in it, which they can only hold by means of their fleet; and which we could capture any day we liked. except anapa, which we care no more for, than a dog chained to his kennel, who barks without reaching us to bite, they have only ghelendjik, and another small fort near the sea, and aboon at the head of the kouban, where we close them in, and have nearly starved them to death. but as they can do no harm there, we do not choose to risk losing many valuable lives to take it. they once attempted to establish one of their colonies and forts at soudjouk kalie; but that time we were prepared for them. we rushed down upon them like a troop of wolves into a sheep fold, ere they could throw up their fortifications, and carried away one half of their people to till our own fields; while the rest we drove into the sea, where their ships picked them up. they found it was no use attempting to sow corn where they would never be allowed to reap, so they sailed away; and with the blessings of allah, we will soon make them do the like from all parts of the country." "allah be praised, we will soon accomplish that work," exclaimed the hadji. "my heart yearns to be among them again, with my true sword in my hand, in the loving way i used to treat them. bismillah! we must make a foray among them, just to take the rust off our weapons. what say you, my son?" turning to ivan, "will you try the strength of your arm on the hard heads of the urus, and strike your first blow for the liberty of your country?" "gladly will i accompany you, my noble friend," said ivan. "i should not wish to serve under a better leader, for you well know how ardently i long to prove myself worthy of the race from which i have sprung." "then, by the favour of allah," replied the hadji, "before long, i will lead the way among their ranks, and we will then see what stuff they are made of, by cutting them to pieces. they are slaves and curs. their mothers and fathers are dogs." the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of several male and female slaves bearing a repast. the dishes were placed on small wooden tables, about a foot high, before each person, as they sat round the room on the ottoman. the host himself handed to every guest a cup of light mead, a ceremony preliminary to the repast. he would not be seated until he had performed this courtesy; nor would he join the meal, notwithstanding his advanced age, till repeatedly urged by the party to do so. the servants stood round to attend to the wants of each guest: the repast consisted of mutton, dressed in a variety of ways; fat poultry, pastry, preserves, and fruit, commencing with a bowl of rich and savoury soup, with spoons placed for every person to help themselves; after which, each man drew a small knife from his girdle, to commence the attack. before the attendants had cleared away the tables, the aged prince arose, and filling his cup with mead, drank to the health of all present in turns. "by what name shall i address my young stranger guest?" he asked, turning to ivan. "though he speaks with the tongue of our people, and his eagle glance, and lofty stature, betoken him to be a noble, yet know i not his name. say, under what appellation shall he dwell in the memory of mahmood indar?" "noble prince," replied ivan, rising from his seat, "you speak truly, though i am, i trust, of the pure race of the atteghei. name have i none. i love not the one i have borne for many years, therefore, i give it not, and the noble name i long to bear, i give not, until i have done some deeds, to shew myself worthy of the race from which i deem myself sprung; that my kindred should not say, when i claim their love, that i am no true scion of their stock. this i have sworn by the bright heaven above us. my noble friend, the hadji guz beg, has offered to shew the way among the ranks of our foes, and i have sworn to follow him, even to the cannon's mouth." all applauded this speech, the hadji springing forward to embrace him. "i see, my second son, that you will prove a true circassian," he cried, "and by the blessing of allah, by to-morrow's dawn, we will proceed in search of our foes: to-night, we will rest under the roof of our noble host." "happy am i to receive so gallant a warrior as you have proved yourself, oh! hadji; and honoured am i in such guests as you and your friends," answered the prince. the repast being concluded, the party strolled out among rich and fertile meadows, sloping from the house down to a pure and glassy rivulet. an orchard of various fruit trees surrounded the dwelling, while, before it, grew some magnificent chestnut trees, under whose grateful shade the old noble loved to sit, surrounded by his youthful descendants, enjoying their gambols on the grass. in the neighbourhood of the house were the farm yards and granaries, stored with all kinds of corn, the produce of the surrounding highly-cultivated fields. on the mountain's brow grazed his numerous flocks, and in the rich meadows below his herds of fat cattle. our hero had parted from his companions, when the page sought his side; and as ivan's eye fell on the boy, he exclaimed-- "conrin, do you find yourself sad and solitary among so many strange people?" "ah, no!" answered the page, "i cannot be sad or solitary when in your presence." "do you then come to congratulate me on having, at length, arrived in the land of my hopes?" asked ivan. "yes, sir, yes; whatever gives you pleasure makes my heart beat with joy; and may your utmost hopes be now fulfilled!" "thanks, page; but still my heart is full of fears. i know not, nor dare i ask, if yet my father lives. why do you sigh, boy? does the name of father cause you thus to sigh?" "alas, sir, i never knew one: the name sounds like mockery on my ear. the kind and noble friend, whom i thought my father, i found was not so; and yet i feared to ask who was." "'tis strange," said ivan. "and your mother, boy?" "alas, sir!" said the page, "the kind and gentle care of her, who was my mother, i never knew." the boy's eyes filled with tears. "i would i had not asked you, boy, about your parents, to make you weep thus: but dry your tears; i will supply the place of both your parents, as much as in my power lies; and you shall share my fortunes, which, i trust, will lead to happiness." in a moment the boy's eyes brightened, as he gazed up into ivan's face, with an inquiring and searching glance, yet radiating with smiles of joy. "'tis that alone i ask to do," he replied. "to follow your fortunes through good or evil, in happiness or misery. still speak to me in words like those you just now uttered, and they will repay me all the hardships i may endure." "i could not speak harsh words to one so unprotected as you are. now tell me, what think you of my countrymen? are they like the wild barbarians the russians would have taught the world to think them? but, thank heaven! they yet may learn how true courage can oppose its arms to tyranny, though backed by hosts of slaves." "i did not think to find them as they are," replied the boy; "more courteous far, and hospitable, than the people of the land whence we came. true valour sits in the eye, even of the lowest of the multitude." "you praise them well, good page, but justly," replied ivan. "but see, the party move towards the house. we must go in. keep by my side, as you see the pages of the nobles do." volume , chapter vi. as the sun of the first day, which ivan had passed in his native land, sunk down beneath the waters of the ocean, shining bright and blue between an opening in the hills, the guests re-assembled in the hospitable mansion of the prince mahmood, where another repast was served, much in the style of the former; and as the party were seated at it, a new comer entered the guest-house. he was dressed in the high fur cap of armenia, with a long-flowing, dark robe, bound by a belt round his waist, at which he carried an ink-horn, pen, and book. a slave followed him, staggering under the weight of large packages, which he had unloaded from two horses at the door. he took his seat respectfully, at some distance from the chiefs, and humbly ate the viands which the prince ordered to be placed before him. "whence come you?" demanded the host of the stranger, who seemed to be a pedlar or travelling merchant. "what goods do you bring for sale? allah knows we have little need of any, except powder and lead in these times." "i come from the city of the sultan," replied the armenian, "from the rich stamboul; and i bring jewels and silks for your lovely wives and daughters, and gemmed daggers and swords for you, noble chiefs. but i am a man of peace, and thought not of the powder and lead." "you will find but a bad market for such wares here," answered the prince; "but in my house you are welcome. what news bring you from stamboul? do you hear what measures the great padishah is taking in our cause? or, forgetting the children of his holy creed, does he tamely submit to the audacious tyranny of the proud moscov?" "alas! my father," replied the merchant, "though all men desire to aid your cause, and many would eagerly hasten to your assistance, yet the power of russia is great, and no movement can be made without coming to the ears of her minister in the capital of the sultan, where a whole host of spies are ever on the watch to carry information to him. the sultan--may allah prosper him!--would of his own free will do much for you; but where is now his power, since the standard of the osmanlis has sunk before the eagles of the moscov? alas! fallen is the greatness of the turks, my father. their old allies, the inglis, have forsaken them, and joined the armies of their foes. what help have you, but to yield to the mighty power opposed to you?" "what help have we!" vehemently exclaimed the hadji. "you are a man of peace, and the guest of our host, or you should eat those words of dirt you speak. what help! we have the help of allah in our rightful cause, and our own good swords to defend our homes; and with the will of heaven, we will show those cursed urus that we know how to use our arms. let them venture from their strongholds, and we will teach them a lesson they will not easily forget. go to their camps, merchant. tell them to come on; we fear them not. but, man, you speak false. bosh! it is nonsense. i, too, have come from stamboul; and the inglis are again the friends of the sultan; and i know well they would aid our cause if the urus did not cram their ears with lies. there are many noble spirits among them, ready to fly to our assistance. go to, man, you speak of things long passed. you know not what you say." the armenian pedlar looked confused for a moment, but his assurance soon returned. "if the noble hadji has just arrived from stamboul, i have no more to say. i have journeyed far by land since i left that city, so he, perchance, brings fresher news than i do." "the hadji is right," said the prince. "for i too know that the inglis are our friends, and if they would but send us powder and lead, we would be grateful, and be their friends for ever." "the inglis, say you, prince?" answered the armenian; "you are deceived in the inglis. they are a nation of merchants like me, and aid not a cause where they cannot make gain; some few are gallant warriors, and would shed their blood perhaps in your cause; but of what assistance would a few more swords be among a nation of warriors? no, prince, i say, expect no help from them. seek not to war against so powerful a nation as the moscovite. i say not, be friends, but it is madness contending with them." "mashallah!" exclaimed the hadji, furiously regarding the stranger, "i warned you, trader, not to speak of peace with our foes, and you have again done so. beware how you utter those words again. the inglis are a brave nation, and i know that they are good warriors, for i have met many of them; and all who come to this country shall be welcome. but what want we more than our own arms to defend our own mountains? speak not again of peace. bosh! such words i spit upon;--they are vile." "i see, noble hadji, your slave is wrong," cringingly returned the pedlar. "i thought of some other franks; mine too is not a nation of warriors like your's, to hold out so long against an invader, and to endure, for so many years, all the miseries of war. i spoke but my own feelings, therefore let not your anger be kindled against a poor merchant, who would do nothing to offend you." the hadji's anger was as quickly appeased as it was easily excited, and he regarded the armenian more with feelings of the deepest contempt than with any hostile thoughts. the pedlar himself appeared to have discovered that the most discreet conduct he could follow, was to keep silence among the present company. appealing to the prince, he craved leave to exhibit his goods to the ladies of the family. "i have but little to give for aught you may possess, merchant; yet as the women love to look on fine silks and jewels, you may send in your packages to the anderoon, and see if they will select any. go now, it is late, they will soon retire to rest." as the armenian left the apartment, the hadji glanced at him with a look of disgust. "for what should that slave talk to us of treating with the urus?" he cried; "one might think from his words that he was a friend of theirs; but he is a craven-hearted slave, and not worth further thought." the principal part of the company now adjourned to the verandah in front of the house, where they passed an hour in smoking the much prized tchibouks. before they retired to rest, the pedlar returned, having disposed of some of his silks to the ladies of the family. "your slave," he said, humbly addressing the hadji, "hears that you and some other noble chiefs are travelling towards the north to-morrow, and it would be a high honour as well as a great kindness, if you would allow him to accompany you." "do you fear, merchant, that your friends the moscov would ease you of your goods, if you happen to go near their forts?" the pedlar started. "but what care i? you may go with us if your pack horses can keep pace with our steeds; but remember that we delay not for a few bales of silk." "thanks, noble chiefs," replied the pedlar, bowing before them; "much shall i prize your protection. but do not say that the russians are my friends; i know them not, i hate them, i detest them, i spit upon them." "you do well, man," replied the hadji. "but remember another time, that if you talk of peace between the sons of the atteghei and the moscov, while they remain on our coasts, you may chance to take a leap from a higher rock than you would like." "your servant hears, and will follow your advice," replied the armenian; then turning to the prince, he presented to him a richly jewelled dagger. "perchance, as the noble prince mahmood will not purchase, he will accept as a gift this dagger from his servant, to prove his love for the atteghei, and his hatred for the moscov. he will honour his slave much by receiving it from his hands." the prince looked musingly at the dagger, which seemed of great value. "take back your gift, merchant," he said; "what mahmood requires he can purchase, and beware how you make such gifts. they are too much like the bribes the urus offer to tempt traitorous hearts to join them. mahmood thanks you, but cannot accept your gift." "your slave would be more gratified if the prince would take the trifling gift. he can repay it when he pleases." "i thank you, merchant, but i have said i will not accept your gift," replied the prince. "therefore take it back, and go in peace." the armenian, as desired, took the dagger, concealing it beneath the folds of his dress, while the prince whispered a few words into achmet beg's ear. the night being already far advanced, the party prepared for rest. slaves entered the guest-house, bringing cushions and coverlids of rich silk, and spreading them on the floor, to form beds for the guests, on which the voyagers gladly threw themselves to rest. seeing that every thing was arranged, their princely host retired to a part of the dwelling appropriated to himself. the walls of the room were adorned by tablets with passages of the koran written on them, while the arms of the guests, with several suits of rich armour, hung suspended around. the internal ornaments afforded a strong contrast to the primitive simplicity of the mansion, and to the simple habits and customs of its inhabitants. the manners of the chiefs, however, were courteous and knightly, resembling all we hear of the chivalry of the middle ages, or perhaps still more like the heroes of ancient greece. the lower orders and serfs, also, are certainly less barbarous, and perhaps more intelligent than the scottish highlanders of the same class a century ago, if it is necessary indeed to go back so far. the next morning, the uzden achmet beg assembled his followers, who had been dispersed about the neighbouring hamlet for the night; and when it was rumoured that the celebrated hadji guz beg had returned from his distant pilgrimage, and was about to take the field, with his hatred of the urus unabated, numbers of young men volunteered to join his standard, leaving the old men and women to attend to their fields. achmet beg indeed, though the head of his tribe, and a much respected noble, had not gained that renown which his younger brother had acquired by a long series of hazardous and daring exploits. the latter, therefore, was always preferred as a leader by the young and bold spirits of their tribe, nor did the elder, who was of an unambitious, quiet character, feel the slightest jealousy at his brother's superior military abilities. ivan was overjoyed when he found with whom he had formed a friendship, little thinking while aboard ship, where he had scarcely spoken on the subject of war, that the sedate hadji was the renowned warrior he on all sides was acknowledged to be; and though he seemed somewhat to boast among his friends of past deeds, and of others to be accomplished, it was easy to see that it was not the vaunting of a pretender, by the attention paid to his words. a gallant array of cavaliers now assembled before the house of prince mahmood; the chiefs in glittering suits of armour, some of highly polished plates of steel, and others of finely worked chain, their cloaks of varied colours, and swords girded to their sides, with richly embossed handles. the daggers in their belts were decorated in the same manner. many carried pistols, and the greater number had also a long rifle slung at their backs, thus mingling the weapons of ancient and modern days. their retainers were armed, some with long guns, and others with long bows, and quivers full of arrows, wearing in their belts short double-edged swords, or rather daggers, and straight sabres by their sides. as ivan issued from the house, he found a high-mettled steed waiting at the door, held by achmet beg's squire. the hadji advanced as he appeared, and leading the horse forward, presented it to him, saying: "let me be the first, my son, to provide you with a charger of the true atteghei breed, who well knows his way among the ranks of the moscov; and in case you do not like the gift, you can repay me when we have made a foray into their country, and have carried off a rich booty. till then, accept him from a father who loves you. there are two others, which count as nothing, for the use of your squire and page, though perhaps not to be matched among the cossacks of the plain." ivan, gratefully thanking him for his well-timed present, vaulted with alacrity into the light saddle, javis holding his stirrup, and then following his example. young conrin also shewed himself no mean horseman, leaping lightly on his small, but well proportioned and active steed. the whole party were prepared to set forth, when the aged prince himself appeared, tendering to each guest of noble rank a parting stirrup cup of mead; for such is the knightly custom, still adhered to in that primitive country. "may the blessings of allah attend you, my sons!" said the aged chieftain; "may your arms be victorious over our enemies, and may death fly from your ranks. would that i too had strength to lead my followers to the field; but while my gallant sons yet exist to take my place, i must remain to guard our lands from the foe. should it be the will of allah that they fall, then i too must gird on my sword, and yield my last breath amid the din of battle. now heaven protect you, my sons!" the venerable prince, grasping the hand of each chief as in turn they rode by, the cavalcade set forward. as they issued from the court-yard of their konag, the cry of "ogmaff! ogmaff! farewell! farewell!" resounded on all sides from the assembled retainers and slaves of the chief; and loud shouts of "vo-ri-va-ka," rent the air, as a parting salute to the warriors who were sallying forth to defend their country. they set forward at a brisk pace, ivan keeping by the side of the hadji, who pointed out to him each scene of note as they advanced, explaining to him the circassian style of fighting, and other subjects of interest and importance. in the rear of their ranks, came the armenian merchant and his pack horses, light active animals, formed of bone and sinew alone, who continued to keep up with the high-mettled steeds of the warriors, though the ground was rough and hilly. their route lay across a country, wild as if no other foot had trodden it save the beasts of the forest; now over the edge of dizzy precipices, then descending into savage glens and through dark and frightful defiles, amid gigantic rocks, bared, broken, and distorted into a thousand strange forms. then again they had to scale some lofty elevation, amid splendid forest trees, where a platform of rich ground would be found, highly-cultivated, and far removed from the reach of their enemies. occasionally they saw, amid the almost inaccessible recesses of the mountains, some alpine cot, whose skin-clad inhabitant was tending his flocks of goats. as they rode along, game of various sorts, such as wild turkeys, pheasants, hares, and deer, would start up in their path, to which some of the party gave chase, and either ran down or shot with their true-aimed arrows. as they were passing through a rocky defile, an immense wild boar started up in their path. "a fortunate omen for our next expedition," shouted the hadji. "now, my deli khans, let us give chase to the huge monster as we would to the savage urus." uttering these words, and with the spirit and agility of youth, spurring on his horse, followed by ivan and the younger men of the party, he rode at the beast, who, gnashing his long tusks in defiance as he turned his head towards them, first endeavoured to escape among the rocks, when he saw the number of his foes. the hadji was, however, too quick for him; and the boar, seeing escape from his active pursuers was hopeless, stood at bay. grinning at them with his sharp teeth, and foaming with fury, he prepared to rush at the headmost of his opponents; but, nothing daunted, the aged, but active huntsman rode directly at him, and leaning from his saddle, plunged a short sword deep into the thick neck of the animal, who made a last desperate attempt to rip up the horse of his opponent; but the hadji, making his steed spring on one side, the fierce beast rolled over, and expired without a struggle. shouts of applause, from those of his friends who had come up to the scene of action, followed this dexterous feat of the old warrior. "bosh! it is nothing," he exclaimed. "i did it but to ascertain if my eye had lost its quickness, or my arm its nerve; but, praises be to allah, neither of them is the worse for my long rest." the carcase of the boar was left to feed the beasts of the mountain, less scrupulous than the followers of mahomet; though in truth, few of the circassian mountaineers are very strict observers of the tenets of his religion, nor would object, if hard pressed, to a slice of the unclean animal. "we will soon find more noble game than this," said the hadji, turning to ivan, who had arrived as the boar received his death stroke; "and you will become both a good huntsman and a good warrior. but inshallah! the first is only fit sport for boys or young men, when there are no enemies to be met with; and i did it but to stretch my sinews a little after my voyage." the whole party now proceeded through a deep and romantic glen, where scarcely a breath stirred the light festoons of creeping plants which hung from the rocks above. all seemed solemn and sad; when achmet beg's followers struck into a low chaunting song, describing the actions of some chief who had fallen lately, fighting against the russians. the whole party joined in a rich and full chorus; the sounds of ay-a-ri-ra swelling and dying away among the ravines and far distant glades of the mountain forest. ascending a lofty eminence, crowned by trees, they emerged from their shelter, when a view was obtained of the sea below them, and of the fort of ghelendjik, far to the north, built on one side of a deep bay. stretching far beyond it was a long line of white cliffs. as the party of warriors gazed on it, expressions of execration burst from their lips, and the hadji looked anxiously down a steep pathway leading to the shore, by which he might have gained the outside of the fort; but feeling the uselessness of the wish, he merely contented himself with muttering-- "the piggish cowards! let us but meet them beyond their walls and without their cannon, and we will soon teach them better manners than to pay us a visit without an invitation." it struck the chiefs as singular, that they had met none of the sentinels, who watch every height along the coast in the neighbourhood of an enemy. "the men of hyderbey were not wont to be sluggards at their posts!" exclaimed the hadji to his brother. "how is it that they do not watch these heights?" "perhaps they have gone nearer to our foes," replied the chief, "to shoot any who may show their faces above the walls of their fort." the scene below them seemed calm and quiet. a few white sails of russian vessels, alone dotted the smooth bosom of the euxine. in the fort all was so quiet, that it looked like a deserted mound of earth. the roofs of the buildings scarcely peered above the walls; and the proud standard of russia was hardly distinguishable, as it hung listlessly round its staff. not a breath stirred the air, and deep silence reigned on the calm scene, when, in a moment, it was broken by the loud crash of artillery, followed by the continued reports of musketry, far above which rose the loud war shriek of the atteghei. "allah be praised, here is work for us, my friends, without delay!" exclaimed the gallant hadji, in a joyous tone, "bismillah! we will be upon them when they little expect us, and aid our friends, whoever they are. follow me, brave warriors." so saying, he spurred on his charger, with his brother and ivan by his side, followed by the rest of the band, and galloped, by an almost precipitous path, down the wooded sides of the hill. they passed many a rocky ravine, and dry bed of winter torrents, tearing their way with eager haste through the boughs and thick underwood. nothing could stop their course. volume , chapter vii. we have, in a previous chapter, attempted to describe the romantic and pastoral beauty of the coast of circassia, as viewed from the sea. we must now transport our readers to a scene of even loftier grandeur, and more surpassing loveliness. on the southern side of a high mountain, thickly clothed with the varied foliage of magnificent trees, some two or three hundred feet from the base, was a broad and extended plateau or terrace, terminating on one side by a steep precipice, while on the other the mountain rose in majestic grandeur, from the side of which, amid the trees, projected rocky crags of fantastic shapes, partly covered with the slender tendrils of creeping plants. down the mountain's slope sparkled a bright cascade, leaping from rock to rock, here hidden from sight by some overhanging trees or jutting cliff, and there appearing more clear and joyous than before, till it fell in a spray-wreathed column into a bason, from which it meandered through the small plain of the plateau, fertilising in its course several highly-cultivated fields, till it again fell in a shower of foam over the sides of the precipice, into a beautifully green and broad valley below; there joining the pure waters of a rapid rivulet, which brawled over its rocky bed in its course towards the sea, through the winding gorge of the valley. towards the east, as far as the eye could reach, appeared hills and mountains of every form; some swelling in gentle undulations, and covered with fields of corn or green pastures, where grazed numerous flocks and herds; some clothed to their lofty summits with magnificent forests, and others again rising in steep, rugged, and barren abruptness. above all were seen blue ridges of mountains, rising one beyond the other; first clear and defined, and then growing more indistinct and faint, till lost in the azure tint of the sky. in the same direction, the terrace extended for some way, gradually narrowing till it merged in the steep sides of the mountain. some well cultivated high ground of no great elevation, rose on the opposite side of the valley, which, in the direction of the sea, narrowed into a deep ravine, taking an abrupt turn, with precipitous and insurmountable sides. the sea face of the mountains which formed it, could be trodden by none but the light-footed goat, or the almost equally active and daring mountain-hunters. it was, in truth, a situation well calculated to secure a retreat, and to form a fortification against any hostile invader, if protected by a few brave and resolute men; and on that account, it had been selected as a location by the gallant chief of a once numerous tribe, who had been driven by the russians from his former hereditary possessions. his residence stood just within sound of the refreshing cascade, whose pure waters flowed before his door. the house was surrounded by farm yards, well-stocked with every species of domestic animal, and every kind of poultry. well-planted orchards formed part of the homestead; and the trees in them were now loaded with fruit. the dwelling consisted of several separate buildings, of the usual style of circassian architecture; but one was arranged with more care and attention than the others. this was the anderoon, or house appropriated to the women; it was separated from the others by a paling, which, however, was not sufficiently high to obscure the prospect. the front looked down the lovely valley, over many a rocky hill and cliff, beyond which, in the distance, was the bright blue sea. before it extended a verandah, round whose trellised supports many creeping plants had been trained; their slender tendrils bearing sweet-smelling flowers, which hung in graceful festoons from the top. but it was in the interior that the brightest gem of the casket was to be found. on a cushion of rich silk, was seated, gazing through the open door, a young girl, lovely as one of eve's fairest daughters. her eyes, of the deepest blue and of dazzling lustre, shaded with long dark silky eyelashes, were gazing upon the picturesque view before her; her delicate carnation lips were slightly parted, disclosing her pearly teeth. her features were perfectly regular; and the fair complexion of her gently rounded cheeks was almost imperceptibly tinged with a roseate hue. her raven hair fastened by a silken band over her forehead, fell in a long plait behind, and from her head a veil of white gauze scarcely shrouded her graceful and slender figure. the robe she wore was of blue silk, trimmed with silver; her full white muslin trousers were confined with a richly worked girdle, which encircled her waist; and small slippers of coloured leather, beautifully worked in arabesque patterns with silver, completed her attire. by her side lay an embroidered belt, at which she apparently had been working, as the golden thread still hung, unconsciously, in her slender fingers. at a short distance from this lovely creature, sat a little girl, busily occupied in spinning; whose small, quick, piercing eyes, and dark irregular features, shewed her to be not of circassian race; a slave taken, probably in some predatory excursion, from the calmuck tartars. as she pursued her occupation, she turned at times her quick glance towards her young mistress, as if with an endeavour to catch her eye, but without avail; and she seemed fearful of arousing her from her meditations, whatever might be their nature. a tame kid of snowy whiteness was gambolling before the door; till, grown bold by impunity, it bounded into the room. but even the pretty animal's playful antics did not rouse her; and the little maiden diligently plied her work, despairing of recalling the thoughts of her lady, to the affairs of the present moment. at length the sound of a distant footstep approaching the dwelling, caught her ear, she started from the reverie. "run, buda, run!" she cried, in tones of silvery sweetness, "haste, maiden! and see who approaches; but whoever they may be, stop them from coming here. say i can see no one to-day; i am ill at ease; i should weep to see strangers. shew them to the guest room, but not here. say i would see friends another day, but i cannot now. go, child." the little girl was flying to obey these mandates, when the young beauty stooped for a moment, in the attitude of listening. "stay, buda, stay; it is useless. my fears have made me fanciful. those are my father's footsteps. haste, buda, to usher him to my apartment." while she spoke, the subject of her meditations appeared at the entrance of the apartment, ushered in, according to etiquette, by the youthful slave. as he entered, he bowed low, his lofty plumed helmet touching the door-sill, and as his graceful daughter rose from her silken cushions to receive and welcome him, he folded her in a tender embrace. he was a warrior of commanding and majestic stature, clothed in complete armour. his coat of mail richly inlaid with gold, shone brightly with steel of the highest polish. his curling dark moustache and beard were yet untinged by any of the hues which betoken the approach of age, though his stern and fine features were marked with many furrows, indicating deep thought and numerous cares. he raised from his head his glittering helm, which his daughter respectfully took and placed by her side, as he seated himself on the ottoman and beckoned her to sit near him. "it is long, my father," said the fair girl, "since i have rejoiced in the light of your presence; and oh, what pleasure do you bring to me when you come! i was before sad and thoughtful, and now i feel light and happy. say, what has kept you so long away?" "my own sweet ina," answered the chieftain, "in these times of war and of constant peril, i have many things to attend to; and it does not become a warrior to spare many moments from his duties, even though he spend them in soft intercourse with one so loved as you, my child. i have even but now returned from mustering the small remnant of the faithful followers whom his foes have left to arslan gherrei; to see that they are well supplied with arms, horses and food, for a campaign. but why, ina, were you just now, so sad and thoughtful?" "oh do not ask me, my father! now that i am again happy," replied the daughter. "i did but for a moment feel somewhat ill, and feared that guests were coming whom i did not wish to receive. i am well again, my father, now that you are with me." "i have matter of importance to communicate to you," said the chief, "you know ina, that i so love you, that for all the riches of the mighty padishah of the osmanlis, i would not part from you; but yet, sweet one, the stern necessity of war compels me to leave you, and i must haste to join the hosts of my countrymen to repel our invaders. i may perchance fall, and leave you unprotected." "do not say so, my father," cried the lovely ina. "surely heaven will protect us, as it has done before. but why this sudden haste? stay but some short time longer with me, and among your fields and retainers. nothing can have happened to call you so quickly away." "it may not be, dear daughter. now listen to my words. i have already told you that the valiant khan, the noble khoros kaloret, has seen you-- that he loves you. he is rich and brave; hundreds of retainers obey his commands and follow him to battle. he has numerous slaves who till his fields; rich pastures on which large herds of cattle graze; innumerable flocks wander over his mountains, while none can boast of finer horses or richer armour. what more can i say of him? he has sent his brother, who has just arrived, as an envoy to demand you in marriage, and i have spoken much to him. he says that he loves you, truly and deeply--that he would sacrifice half his possessions to gain you. nay, tremble not, loved one. you know that horses, cattle, or the richest armour, are but as nought compared to you--that i would give all i have for your sake; but yet in this time of war, when any moment may lay me low, i would find some gallant protector who would shield you from danger; that when i am in the land of the blessed spirits, i may look down and see my child happy. many there are who would be to me as a son, and would gladly accept your hand and succeed to my possessions; but none appear to win my ina's heart. say, will my child become the bride of the khan?" "oh my father, indeed, indeed, i feel your kind and generous conduct," exclaimed ina, with feeling and animation. "where other fathers do not consult their daughters' wishes, you willingly yield to mine. i too have seen the khan, but i would not be his bride; i cannot dream of love for one like him. for your sake, my father, i would wed whom you wished; but still he should be one whom you too could love, who would obey, and follow you as a son. ah! that allah had made me one, that i might follow you to the battle, and share your dangers and your victories. if i were to wed this khan, i should see you no more; i should be carried far away to his mountain home, distant from the sounds of war and strife, when you would be left alone without a child to attend you, when sick or wounded; or should you return victorious, none would be in your home to offer you a joyous welcome. oh, my father! let me still remain your daughter; let me remain to tend your household and your flocks, if you will not let me go with you. but oh! how much rather than become the wife of the richest noble, would i follow you to the field, to cheer you in the camp, to dress your food, to be your page and attendant. this i can do." "alas! my daughter, i cannot leave you here, for i must take all the followers that i can muster to the field. i have now so few, that i cannot leave enough to guard our home; and should our invaders gain the entrance of this pass, my house and fields must fall a prey to them. then, my ina, would you not be more safe and happy as the wife of a powerful chief, with thousands of warriors to fight under his banner, than to be following me amid the toils of a campaign?" "no, oh no," replied the daughter. "i do not, i cannot love the khan; he is brave, but fierce, noble, and cruel; his followers obey him more through fear than love. his very features bespeak his character; he is no true son of the atteghei, and i would wed none but a scion of the true stock. oh, tell the khan's brother, that you cannot part from me; that i am your only child, your successor; that i am not worthy of the khan's thoughts; that circassia has many maidens far more prized than i. oh! say that you will do so, and restore happiness to your daughter's heart. it was the thought of this that made me sad and ill." the chieftain gazed at his daughter with a glance of deep affection; yet, for a moment, the customs of his country seemed contending with his love. nature, however, triumphed over habit. "i will do as you will, my ina," he cried, clasping her in his arms. "i will send word to the proud khan that even he cannot melt the icy heart of my child. nay, do not weep, my daughter; you shall not leave me against your will for a stranger's care." "thanks, thanks, my father," exclaimed ina, affectionately returning his embrace. "you have restored peace and joy to my heart, and gladly will i prepare to accompany you to the camp." "that cannot be," replied the chief. "your delicate frame is but ill prepared to share the hardships of a warrior's life; but your safety shall be better cared for, and i will bestow you with the family of my kinsman, the noble chief aitek tcherei. his lands are far removed from danger, among the rocky fastnesses of the mountains; and yet, so near the camp, that a quick-footed messenger, may reach it on the second day. thither will i conduct you, ina, ere i seek the field; and there, with a companion of your own age, you will be safe and happy. to-morrow after the sun has risen, prepare to accompany me, with your women and slaves; i must now away to the guest-house, to give your message to the young khan besin kaloret, who is eagerly expecting an answer; and were it not for his oath of peace, methinks the proud tartar khan would ill brook a refusal. and now, ina, farewell, till to-morrow's morn, when i will meet you with my retainers to guard you on your way." the chieftain arose, again bestowing an affectionate embrace on his child, as she presented him with his casque. he replaced it on his head, and quitted the chamber, attended by his daughter to the door. she followed him with her eyes, till he reached the entrance of the guest-house; when returning to her couch, she placed her hands before her face, and gave way to her overcharged feelings, in a flood of tears. the little slave buda gazed with astonishment, to see her mistress so overcome with distress; she approached her with concern. "oh, my dear mistress! why do you weep?" she cried. ina looked up at the little girl, with an affectionate and grateful eye. "i weep not through pain, buda, but that i am a weak, foolish girl, unworthy, some would say, to be a maiden of circassia, where all ought to be brave and bold. i weep, because i may not share my father's dangers, and that i may never again see him, or hear his voice. i weep too, for joy, that he so loves me, that he will not part from me. but i must not give way to thoughts like these, or my tears will not cease flowing. i must nerve my soul to bear all that may happen, with the courage of a daughter of the atteghei, if i have not the strength of her sons. now haste, buda, we have much to do, to prepare for our journey. summon the women from the fields, tell them that we must leave our home; bid them hasten to prepare our goods and furniture for our journey. go, good buda, go." as the little slave ran off to obey her mistress's behests, the pet-kid again gambolled within the door of the room, and ran bleating to its fair guardian, looking up with its soft eyes full of affection, to her face. she bent down, and took it up in her arms. "ah! my little plaything, and you too, i must see for the last time; perchance, no more shall i look upon your pretty gambols; no more will you come to be fed by my hand. when i am gone, you will wander wild among the mountains, with no roof to shelter you, and miss the care of your mistress, or a more sad fate, perhaps, be driven into the hands of those worse than wolves, our greedy invaders. farewell, pretty one! give one more look with those soft eyes, and then go, forget me, and be happy among the wild flocks of your kind." the little animal, as if understanding her words, or the tone of her voice, ceased its frolicsome play, and seemed unwilling to quit her side. the whole household was kept the rest of the day in a state of bustle and activity. the women were busily employed in making packages of all the light and easily moved valuables of the family; every one being too well prepared for the necessity of such a movement. ina herself attended, to see that the tasks were properly performed; for a circassian maiden, even of the highest rank, does not consider it a degradation to attend to her household affairs, but rather an honour to be so employed. volume , chapter viii. the chieftain, arslan gherrei, was one of the bravest of the nobles of circassia. he was generous in his behaviour, courteous in his manners, and temperate in the extreme; but there was a melancholy in his countenance, almost approaching to sternness. he kept aloof from his countrymen, except in the council of war or the scene of strife, where his advice was respected, and his standard followed with alacrity. at their banquets and scenes of conviviality and amusement, he was scarcely ever to be found, preferring rather his domestic hearth and the society of his daughter. such was the father of the beautiful ina, the devoted patriot, the champion of circassia; but as we shall have occasion to refer, at a future time, to the particulars of his history, we will now follow his steps to his guest-house, where the young noble, the brother of the tartar khan khoros kaloret, was anxiously waiting his return with ina's answer to his brother's proposal of marriage; not dreaming that it was possible any maiden of circassia could refuse so noble an offer. the young khan, who was seated on the divan at the further end of the apartment, attended by his squire, rose as the chieftain entered. he was a tall, hard-featured youth, of herculean frame, clothed from head to foot in chain armour, over which he wore a dark cloak of thick cloth; his head was guarded by a helmet, or rather cap, of iron, trimmed round the edge with a thick fur border, giving to his face rather a ferocious appearance, which his overhanging and scowling brow did not belie. by his side hung a ponderous two-edged sword, the handle richly embossed with gold and ornamented with jewels, as was the poniard at his belt. his other weapons, as well as those of his squire, hung against the wall over his head. his squire was without armour of any sort; but his cap was of the same coloured fur as his master's; and his dress of dark cloth fitted closely to his figure. this man was of shorter stature than the khan, and thick set, with the same disagreeable, forbidding cast of features. the khan seemed eager for the chieftain's reply, though he tried to conceal his anxiety; but before either of them spoke, his host, motioning him to resume his seat, took a place on a cushion opposite to him, waiting for his guest to commence the conversation. "noble uzden, what answer does the bright dawn of day send to my gallant brother? will she be the queen of his anderoon, and the future mother of our noble race? when will she be prepared to meet my brother on her road to his home, and when shall i again come with a large company of our retainers, such as befits her rank and beauty, decked in bridal array to bear her away to the longing arms of her spouse?" "it cannot be," answered the chieftain, gravely, "i speak not with disdain of the noble khan, your brother, but my daughter is to me as my son; and not even to him, for all the riches of stamboul, will i part with her against her wish. ina is still young, and loves me as a son would. tell your noble brother that she will yet remain with her father; that she is the only bright jewel i cherish; that i value her more than the richest armour, or steeds of the purest race. there are other maidens of the atteghei, gladly willing to cheer your brother's home--willing to be the mother of his sons, brave and warlike as their father; may allah send joy to his house! but my daughter cannot be his bride. it is enough, khan, i have given my answer." the brow of the young besin khan grew darker at these words. "must i then go back to my brother with such an answer as this? must i go tell the leader of a thousand brave warriors that a weak girl will not bow to his will? why thus, oh uzden! do you throw dirt in my face? must i speak such words as these in my brother's ear? think you that he will listen to me? he will say that i am laughing at his beard. he will tell me to return and bring back his bride; you know not my brother, if you suppose that he will hear with calmness such words as these. he will not rest. he will send me back with another message, and will not receive me till i return with his bride. say then, oh chieftain! that the sweet bird shall quit her bower, that she will come and sing in my brother's anderoon. she will soon be happy there, though at first she may mourn for her father's home; and she will become my brother's pride, his brightest jewel, his sweetest flower. he will send you, uzden, a coat of armour through which no sword can cleave; four noble steeds of the purest race, fleet as the wind, a fine herd of fat cattle, and flocks of sheep. do not despise these things." "have i not said, khan, that my daughter is to me more than armour or steeds?" replied arslan gherrei; "why then, talk we like children? my word is spoken--my daughter cannot be the bride of the khan. be not foolish, but take my message to your brother; and now khan, speak no more on the subject. refreshments are preparing for you ere you return, if you must needs use so much haste; but rather spend this night at my house, and by to-morrow's dawn you shall depart, for i lead forth my few remaining followers against the foe, and must take my daughter to place her in safety with the family of our kinsman aitek tcherei. stay then, till to-morrow, when you shall go in peace; and perchance the next time we meet, it will be on the battle-field against the urus; for i have often been witness of your bravery, and many of your foes have i seen bite the dust." "i cannot stay; i must away with haste; i want not food, if such is the only answer, oh chief! that you can send my brother," exclaimed the young noble with vehemence. "he will not brook such words as these. his soul will not tamely submit to this refusal. it is folly to think it. his offer was not made to be refused." "you speak words of folly, khan; your brother is no child, that he should be angered at a thing like this," replied the chief, gravely. "your feelings carry away your judgment; wait, and you will think better on the subject to-morrow." "you little know my brother. he is now waiting, eager for the answer i must take, and i will not tarry to hear more of such words," exclaimed the young khan, still more angry than before. "my horse, kiru!" turning to his squire. "reach me my arms. bring forth my horse. order my followers to mount, and away." his squire, as desired, presented him with his gun and pistols, and hastened from the room to obey his orders, while the young khan strode angrily and haughtily to the door, where he stood, foaming with rage, till his horse was brought forth. he then mounted, without offering the customary salute at parting to his noble host, who amazed, and vexed, at his want of knightly courtesy, and at his hot, irascible temper, re-entered his house. followed by his squire, and the retainers of his family, the enraged young noble galloped furiously along the flat terrace, till he reached the steep path on the mountain's side, down which he continued his way, and along the bottom of the valley in the direction of the sea, keeping his course towards the north, along the coast. volume , chapter ix. among the beetling crags of the high, dark, and rugged mountains, which surround the still more gigantic and terrific elborous, is a deep glen, more wild and fearful than the many other fissures into which the mountains have been rent by some awful convulsion of nature, forming the only accessible approach to a wide bason, round which precipitous cliffs arise on every side. their lofty and pointed summits are insurmountable, even by the wild goat or active chamois. it appeared as if nature had formed the spot expressly to serve as a fortification for outlaws, as a dozen or twenty men could at all times defend the entrance from a host of foes. it was for this reason that the ancestors of the present occupier of the country had selected it as a spot on which to fix his abode, probably on account of his own lawless disposition, that he might sally forth from this strong hold, and commit forays on his neighbours, with a secure place to retire to with his booty, without fear of reprisal. be that as it may, his descendants had followed constantly the same occupation; rushing down on the unguarded and unsuspecting villagers of the plains, carrying off their cattle, and seizing on themselves as slaves. the first of the present race who inhabited this wild spot, was a khan of high rank in tartary; one of the many who escaped with the exiled king into the mountains of the caucasus, when driven from his throne by the russians under the grasping catharine. there they were hospitably and joyfully received by the brave people from whose blood they had originally sprung; great numbers, therefore, settled in abasia, and their followers adhering to them through good and evil, they thus formed powerful tribes in their new mountain homes. from the marauding practices of the ancestor of khoros kaloret khan, he was possessed of large herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, numerous slaves, and a breed of high-mettled steeds, from the stock which they had brought with them from tartary. thus possessed of abundance of wealth, he refrained from practices followed in more lawless times. he was at the head also of a numerous band of retainers, who obeyed him implicitly as their hereditary chief and master; so that besides his rank, he was a person of great consideration in the country, though perhaps more feared from his power to do evil, than loved for the benefits he conferred on his neighbours. his temper, being uncontrolled, was fierce and violent, so that none of his retainers dared to disobey his slightest orders; yet they followed him willingly to battle, for he was, at the same time, a brave and skilful leader, and the russians had often felt the power of his arm in his tremendous onslaughts. no sooner did they commence hostilities against the tribes of caucasus, than his father, leading out his clansmen from their fastnesses, proved himself one of their most bitter and unceasing enemies. deep and fierce was his revenge for the wrongs which crim tartary had endured at their hands. sending once some of his people to throw themselves in their way, in order to act as guides to them, he drew a large body among the fastnesses of the mountains, where, having lain in ambush, he set upon them with his followers, and slaughtered several hundreds on the spot. the others, attempting to take refuge among the caverns and rocks, were hunted like wild beasts. for several days did the savage chase continue; every avenue for their escape was so guarded, that none returned to tell the tale of their disasters. those who were not taken and put to the sword, died of starvation among the barren mountains. the young khan and his brother had imbibed from their father the same bitter hostility towards their foes; but revenge ruled their breasts more than love for their adopted country; and the ungovernable and fiery temper of the elder, often led him to commit excesses, even among his own followers, of which his father was not guilty. such was the suitor for the hand of the gentle ina; and though arslan gherrei loved him not, yet he was not fully acquainted with his real character; nor could he, without giving good reason, refuse his suit without a deadly insult, as he himself was descended, by his mother's side, from the same race, though of a royal line. the house of the chief, near which was erected a high watch-tower, was built directly facing the rocky defile leading to the green circular plain or bason before described, thus commanding a view of all who approached. the khan was pacing under the verandah in front of his house, in a state of violent excitement. "see you any one coming?" he shouted to a page stationed on the summit of the watch-tower. "why tarries my brother thus? why sends he not messengers to announce the coming of my bride? surely he would not fail to send, and give me time to meet the beauteous girl, with due honour, on the way. he is not wont to disobey my orders. see you none coming, slave?" he again vociferated. "see you none coming?" "on my head be it, khan, i see not one speck moving in the whole of the glen," answered the page. "am i your khan, that you hasten not?" he cried, to some attendants waiting at a little distance. "do you, zand, take the fleetest steed, and fly towards ghelendjik for three hours, returning without delay; and see that you bring me tidings of my coming bride, or of my brother's messengers." the man hastened to obey the order, the khan continuing his irregular and agitated walk as before, every now and then turning his glance down the glen, then shouting to his watchman to learn if he had caught sight of any one approaching. the answer was as before. his impatience increased. "saddle me a steed, knaves--haste, fly. am i not your khan, that you make no better speed?" a horse was quickly brought him; when, throwing himself into the saddle, he rode furiously down the dark ravine; but he soon returned, on the back of the panting animal, from the fruitless search. his temper was not assuaged by his headlong and heating ride; as throwing the reins to a slave, who stood trembling to take his horse, he resumed his hurried walk in front of his dwelling. another hour passed, when the look-out man, on the watch-tower, gave notice that he saw a horseman coming up the glen. as he approached nearer, he proved to be only one of the messengers despatched in the morning, and he reported that he could gain no intelligence of any of the young khan's escort. the shades of evening were beginning to throw a deep gloom into the glen, when the look-out man again cried that he saw a party of horsemen approaching. the khan instantly threw himself on a gaily caparisoned steed, preceded by his banner-bearer. his squire and pages followed, with the principal of his retainers, and galloped down the glen to meet the expected bride. what was his rage and disappointment when he did not see his brother's towering form, or the white veil of the betrothed; but met, instead, the travel-worn and agitated band of retainers who had set out with him? "where is my brother, and where my bride?" he exclaimed, riding furiously towards them with his drawn scimitar uplifted. "say, caitiffs, ere i slay you." "as allah is great, we dare not say, khan, where your brother is. we know not--we cannot speak," answered the foremost of the party. "the fair daughter of the uzden arslan gherrei is with her father." "what! does she not come with my brother? speak, slaves; answer, i charge you," cried the khan. "this only we know, khan. on my head be it that i say truth," replied the first speaker: "the brother of the khan parted from the uzden arslan gherrei in anger, that he would not let his daughter come to be queen of our chief's anderoon. we then travelled towards the castle of the urus at ghelendjik, where besin khan, taking with him only kiru, ordered us to proceed a day's journey, and then wait for him. for two days he came not. we waited a third, and we then went to search for him. we heard that there had been a bloody fight between some of the tribes on the coast and the urus, and we thought our young khan would not have been absent; but all, of whom we asked for news of him, turned aside, and would not answer. we then went to the shore, where the combat took place, and among heaps of the vile soldiers of the urus, almost destroyed by the birds of prey and wild beasts, we found the sabre, which was our young master's, broken, and his iron cap and his corslet, with a deep dent on its centre." as he spoke, the horsemen opened their ranks, and discovered between them, on a led horse, the shattered arms of besin khan. "as allah is great, khan, this is all we know," added the man. the rage of the chief seemed for a moment abated, by the shock he had experienced at the account of his brother's too probable death. but it as suddenly returned. "what lies are those you speak, villains?" he exclaimed. "is it the custom of the chiefs of abbaseik to leave their companion warriors when slain on the field? though he had not his own clansmen with him, think you the other nobles would not have brought off his body were he slain? no; those cannot be the arms of my brother. if you have lied, some of you shall suffer for this. follow me to my house. we will see, when light is brought, if these are truly my brother's arms." and turning his horse's head, he rode hastily homeward. throwing himself on a divan, in his principal apartment, followed by all the newly-arrived troop, he caused torches to be brought, and the arms to be placed before him. he examined them narrowly. "alas, my khan!" said one of his attendants, "the hilt of this sabre i know it too well. often have i seen it in your noble brother's hand." "peace, fool!" answered the khan, furiously. "think you that i know not my brother's sword? yes, those are his arms, and i will make those pay dearly who have cast this indignity on my father's son. he would not, if living, have left his weapons on the field; and by allah and his prophet, i swear that i will have revenge. he may have fallen into the hands of the urus; but no, besin khan would not be taken alive. i will go to the chieftains of the atteghei, engaged in this combat, and make them pay dearly for thus deserting my brother, if he was slain. if he were near, and heard the sounds of strife, so assuredly would he have rushed into the thickest of the fight; and if he fell by those hated urus, doubly will i wreak my vengeance on all of their cursed race who fall into my hands. yet what is the blood of a whole host of such as they are, to one drop of the blood of my noble brother? he would have died for me, and shall i rest while i live to avenge him? no; his spirit calls to me from the grave." he rose, and walked in an excited manner through the chamber, shaking his clenched hand in the air. "perchance even yet, my brother, thou art not slain! wherever thou art, at the hands of that proud uzden arslan gherrei, i will demand thee. he must know where thou art. why should he refuse me his daughter? am not i as noble as he? have i not more faithful followers, more flocks and herds? then why does he refuse to let the maiden come to my anderoon?" on the next morning, a fierce and warlike band were ready to follow the khan, as, clothed in rich and glittering armour, with his banner borne before him, he left his mountain home, nor tarried on his road, but with furious speed galloped on, like some cataract descending from a lofty mountain to the plain. the band of horsemen issued from the glen, passing along the giddy edge of precipices, fearless of danger, down the steep sides of the rugged mountains, along the dry rocky bed of the winter torrent, never drawing rein. the inhabitants of the villages and hamlets ran out on hearing the rattling hoofs of the steeds, as the fiery khan and his followers galloped by; but none greeted him as he passed, and, like a whirlwind, vanished from their sight. "ai! ai!" cried the aged villagers. "is the khan again on a foray? woe betide the hapless people of the plain he pounces on; or if he rides against the urus, many will rue his coming, as he gallops over the slaughtered bodies of their countrymen." volume , chapter x. it has been seen, that young khan besin kaloret had been deputed by his brother, the fierce khan of the mountains, khoros kaloret, according to the custom of the country necessary to be observed on such occasions, to make his proposals to the uzden arslan gherrei, for the hand of his lovely daughter; having several times seen her in his excursions to that part of the country, and being deeply captivated by her beauty, and reputed accomplishments. the young envoy came, empowered to offer rich presents, which his brother had prepared to her father, in the full confidence that his magnificent overtures would be accepted; for who could doubt that the suit of a powerful and youthful noble would be successful; one, whom a thousand brave warriors obeyed, and followed to war, who possessed large herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, fleet steeds, and rich armour. koros was, as we have said, a noble of a violent and revengeful disposition; so that his brother, though he loved him, and was himself equally brave, quailed beneath the fury of his overpowering anger; and well he knew that a defeat in this affair, would raise it to the utmost. on leaving the uzden his thoughts were bent on vengeance, or on accomplishing his object; and had it not been for the oath, which he, with many other nobles had entered into, to refrain from all broils amongst each other, on account of the impending danger of the country, he would probably have determined to return immediately with a strong body of his retainers, and carry off the unwilling girl by force. as it was, the tumult of his feelings took away all his judgment, nor knew he how to proceed; when his wily squire divining his thoughts, laid a plan to which he had little doubt his master would accede. when the khan first drew rein, he began cautiously to unfold a stratagem, which he had thought of, by which the wished for object might be obtained. "why does my young master thus give way to anger and despair, at the folly of a wilful pale-faced girl? why does he think, that it is impossible to succeed in obeying the wishes of his noble brother? are there not yet many ways left to attain his object?" "what mean you, kiru? speak!" exclaimed the khan. "to what do these words you speak tend?" "the chieftain arslan gherrei, and his fair daughter, with the few retainers he has left, travel this way to-morrow, and will pass near the russian fort at ghelendjik," answered the crafty counsellor. "could not then my master instigate the russians to sally forth, from their entrenchments, and capture the chieftain and his daughter, as they pass by? they will give the lovely maiden as a reward to my master, that he may take her to his brother, our chief, to make his home joyful with her presence." "what are these words, i hear?" exclaimed the young noble in an angry tone, and frowning at the same time. "would you have me turn traitor to my country? would you have me break my oath by dealings with the cursed urus. no, kiru, no. are they not my deadly foes? have i not slain them, as the mower sweeps down the ripe corn with his sickle? no, kiru, it cannot be." setting spurs to his horse, he again galloped forward, to avoid the temptations of his attendant. he, however, pondered on the subject as he rode; and his imagination having been once excited by the instigation of his follower, he could not drive the idea from his mind, by the rapidity of his pace. unfortunately for himself, he again stopped to hear what further arguments his squire might have to urge; who, like the arch instigator to evil, seeing the effect his proposition had already made, ventured to proceed. "does the khan, my master, think that i would persuade him to form a friendship with the hated urus? no! no! i love them not. my master mistakes my words. i would advise only that he should make use of their assistance to gain his object, and then he may quit them without thanks. he may again bathe his sword in their blood, as if he had never spoken to them. what matters it, if a few men on either side be slain? it is a trifle compared to fulfilling his brother's commands." "that may be, kiru; but will not men say, that i have stained the name of our family, by holding communication with our enemies?" said the young khan. "no one need ever know what you have done," replied the tempter. "leave that to the care of your faithful squire. will not also many of the urus be slain in the combat, and thus benefit our cause? for the chief arslan gherrei is too brave and powerful to let many escape to tell the tale; and while all are engaged, the khan can rush down and carry off the fair girl, as if to rescue her from her enemies. has not your servant well spoken, khan?" "your plan is good, kiru," he replied, now almost determined to follow the crafty suggestions of his tempter. "yet, how can i gain admittance to the fort of our enemies?" "that is easy; for they are always glad to see those whom they may hope to gain over to their side; and we may easily deceive them. say, but the word, and i will go on, to prepare for your coming," urged the evil counsellor. "you persuade me much, kiru; but yet are not the scouts of the atteghei constantly on the watch to mark the movements of the urus; and will not they assemble a larger force of their people, the moment they see them leave their entrenchments?" "that, too, shall be my care," answered the squire. "i will deceive the scouts, and send them in different directions, so as to leave the road clear. on that account there is naught to fear." "your persuasions are powerful, kiru," answered the khan, now scarce hesitating, "and in no other way do i see that i can fulfil my brother's wishes." "we have no time to lose then, khan," said the squire. "let us hasten to put the plot in execution, and we will shew these foolish russians, how well we can deceive them." the young khan had now been fully persuaded to commit this act of treachery and folly. waiting, therefore, till his followers came up, he despatched them on their way homeward; while he and his squire proceeded towards the castle of ghelendjik, keeping as much as possible under the shelter of the rocks and trees, that they might pass unobserved by the circassian scouts, till, at the close of evening, they arrived under its walls. the fort of ghelendjik was built on the eastern side of a deep bay, the calm waters of which were sheltered from nearly all the winds which agitate the black sea. lofty and precipitous hills rose around it, at some distance from the shore, leaving, on the side where the fort was erected, a broad expanse of sand and low ground, reaching beyond musket-range of the hills. far to the north-west, extended a high range of chalk cliffs; above which the mountains rose in broken ridges, or sunk in deep ravines to the very edge of the cliffs forming an impassable barrier to troops; while on the other side, the land stretched far into the sea in wooded promontories or capes, forming a series of beautiful bays or windings of the shore in the direction of pchad. the walls of the fort within which the russians were cooped up by the vigilance of their foes, were built partly of stone and partly of clay embankments, forming a high parapet, surmounted with palisades; and from the embrasures frowned the muzzles of their guns, in a long line of ordnance of the heaviest calibre, loaded at all times to the mouth with langridge and grape shot. on the outside a deep ditch had been dug, and redoubts thrown out. at intervals of a few yards between the rough hewn timbers forming palisades, bristled the bayonets of the numerous sentinels constantly on the watch, to prevent a surprise from their indefatigable and dreaded enemies. the store-houses and barracks were built of wood; many of them but wretched huts scarcely giving shelter to the miserable garrison, which now consisted of upwards of four thousand men. even with this strong force, so vigilant and persevering were the circassians, that the russians could scarcely venture to shew themselves beyond their walls without being fired at; and their foraging parties to obtain wood and water were escorted by a troop of artillery, to guard them against the attacks of the natives. all the trees in the neighbourhood had been felled by the invaders to build their fort, and to prevent the mountaineers from finding shelter behind them in their advances, in case they should attack it; so that the country for a short distance around, wore a desolate and barren aspect: a sad contrast to the smiling and rich scenery a little further off. in a hut of better pretensions than the other buildings, within the fort, sat, on his camp sofa, the commander of the russian castle. the deep frown on his dark brow, showed his mortification at the ill success of the imperial arms, and he was meditating fierce and sanguinary revenge against the gallant mountaineers for their determined defence of their native land. he was one with whom our readers are already acquainted; the reputed father of our hero, the baron galetzoff. the governor was interrupted in his meditations by the entrance of an officer, who came to announce that a native chief, as his dress betokened him to be, had with a single attendant arrived at the fort, and seemed to have some communication of importance to make. "admit him," said the baron. "but let a company with fixed bayonets form round him at the entrance of the fort, and i will go forth to meet him. i cannot trust these mountaineers; some treachery lurks beneath every action. call my interpreter, and i will hear what this robber chief has to say, and order the troops under arms, that he may see our strength, and report it to his countrymen for he comes here but to act the spy." as the khan and his squire entered the fort, the moon slowly rose above the mountains, throwing her soft clear beams on the calm waters of the bay, and shining on the fixed bayonets of the troops, and on the swords of the officers, who stood grouped in knots around in rich and varied uniforms gazing on the proud and warlike-looking stranger, while the banner displaying russia's dark eagle floated vauntingly above their heads. a troop of cossacks, in their wild and picturesque garb, were mounted on fleet horses with embroidered housings. their arms were highly ornamented; and, as they galloped to the spot, they flourished aloft their long spears whose points glittered brightly. on either side the troops were drawn up in long and close lines; the bayonets seeming to form a sharp, pointed wall of bright steel tipped with burnished silver. in different parts of the fort blazed the camp fires of the soldiers; and, in attendance on the governor, came a party of men with torches, throwing a red glare of light on all around. the miserable buildings, and dark irregular fortifications were thrown into shade, leaving only the gaudy and glittering panoply of war exposed to view, mocking the calm splendour of the moon, as she glided in her course through the deep blue sky, amid myriads of bright and shining stars. as the russian governor reached the gate of the fort, he perceived the commanding figure of the young khan besin kaloret, and his squire standing close behind him with a cocked pistol in his hand. the mountain warrior stood fearless and unabashed amid the gorgeous and imposing array of the russian troops forming round him. "who are you," began the baron, "who have so audaciously ventured to approach my camp? know you not, that i have the right and power to order you to be instantly shot for the many atrocities committed by you, and your barbarous countrymen? speak, what brings you here?" "i fear not your power," calmly answered the khan; "nor should i die unrevenged; but i come to you with thoughts of peace, i come to crave your assistance in an affair of import, but i cannot speak when so many are, near who may overhear my words." the russian general, conscious of his own evil intentions, looked at the pistol held by the attendant kiru. the khan saw his glance. "put up your pistol, kiru. we have nothing here to fear," he said; and, as his squire obeyed, the baron ordered the soldiers to fall further back. "now tell me your errand," said the general, "and say who you are." "it matters not who i am," replied the khan, "but my errand is this; i would possess myself of a fair girl, the daughter of a chieftain, who, with a small band of followers travels this way to-morrow. though they are brave, they may be easily overpowered if you will follow my suggestions. now hear me, general of the moscov. if you will send one hundred of your foot soldiers with me, i will lead them to a spot where they may remain in ambush, till the chief and his band pass that way. they may then rush out and take them prisoners if you will, and as my reward i claim the chieftain's daughter." "the plan might succeed," answered the baron, doubtingly. "but how can i know that you mean no treachery? i cannot trust your countrymen." "you might know that i would not play you false, by coming here among your troops in your camp. if you doubt me, slay me. i am in your power." the unembarrassed manner in which the khan spoke contributed to allay the baron's suspicions, though he still hesitated to trust the stranger. "suppose i follow your advice," said the general, "how can it succeed? for, overlooked as we are by the enemy's scouts, none can leave the fort without being perceived." "i have arranged that also," answered the khan. "my squire, whom i can trust as myself, will go forth to lead the scouts astray with false reports, and none shall interrupt our proceedings. the spot too on which i have fixed is near at hand, so that you may send assistance if required. will you do therefore as i wish?" "how can i be assured of your fidelity?" again inquired the baron. "i must have some hostage to prove that you are not deceiving me, you yourself must stay while you send some one to point out the spot; and when the girl you speak of is captured, you shall have your reward." "that cannot be," replied the khan, equally distrustful; "i must myself lead your fighting men to the place of ambush; and must also be near at hand to carry off the daughter of the chief, that none may know i had aught to do with the surprise. the rest treat as you will; but you still distrust me. it is well. i will send out my squire before day-break to clear the country round of scouts, and when he returns he shall remain as a hostage to prove my truth. is it not well?" the baron at length agreed to the proposed plan, congratulating himself in the hope, that, by the capture of a chieftain, with all his family and women, by retaining them as hostages, he should bring into subjection all his landsmen and followers; and finally, by detaining the young khan as a prisoner for the same purpose, a justly severe retaliation would be inflicted on the treachery of his countrymen. the baron therefore ordered double the number of infantry asked for, with some light field-pieces, and a troop of cossacks to attend, the khan and to watch the proceedings with orders to kill him should he attempt to escape. the conference being over, the young traitor was conducted to a hut prepared for him, where refreshments were offered, and every inducement held out, with promises of valuable presents should he quit the circassian cause, and with his followers join the russians. but his cupidity could not be excited. revenge for the insult he considered his family to have received alone ruled his actions. he turned a deaf ear to their most tempting offers, though, to disarm suspicion, he pretended to be influenced by these propositions. not so, however, his squire, who hoped to partake of the rich presents and advantages which his master would acquire, if he accepted the russian's offers; and he determined to use his utmost persuasions with the khan for the purpose. the next morning before the sun had risen, kiru stealthily sallied forth from the fort, and fully succeeded in misleading the scouts of the circassians, who dreamed not of such treachery. but on his return, to his great surprise, he found himself detained a prisoner. what was the khan's dismay, also, when he found how different were the arrangements made from what he had himself proposed, and that he was completely in the power of his enemies? but he had now advanced too far to retrace his steps, so that at all hazards he determined to attempt the seizure of ina, hoping at all events to escape with her in the melee. it was clear, however, that he did not at first intend to prove a complete traitor to his countrymen, nor, till driven to desperation by finding himself out-witted, would he have drawn his sword against them. if his countrymen saw him rescue ina, she would become his fair prize, and he thought that most of her friends would escape by the fleetness of their horses. volume , chapter xi. the household of arslan gherrei were early astir on the following morning, to be in readiness to commence their journey, whenever their chief should give the order. several household slaves, calmucks, and even russians, who had been taken prisoners, and one or two poles, deserters from the enemy, but who had not yet proved their fidelity to the circassians, by wielding their swords against their late masters, were employed in loading the sturdy ponies with the articles which the women had prepared. lighter steeds were in readiness to carry the females; and one of fine proportions, with sleek skin, and long-flowing mane and tail, as docile as a dog, was destined to bear the graceful and slender form of the chieftain's daughter. the beautiful animal was decked with rich housings of scarlet cloth trimmed with gold; slender reins of leather entwined with a golden thread, and bunches of wild flowers in his head. and truly he seemed conscious of the care bestowed on him, and proud of the charge he was accustomed to carry. after the frugal morning meal had been dispatched, the fair ina, blooming in the fresh morning air, came forth from her dwelling, and the chieftain himself appeared, to conduct her to her steed. in addition to her other dress, she now wore a scarlet mantle worked with gold, and a hat, the rim turned up on one side, in which was placed a white plume fastened by a jewel of price; while a thicker veil hung in ample folds from her head to shroud her features, if she pleased, from the rays of the sun, or the too admiring gaze of strangers. as soon as their young mistress had mounted, the women and the rest of the party followed her example, her father riding by her side, to guide her palfrey through the more difficult part of the road. the women servants and slaves followed next; the household attendants bringing up the rear with the baggage horses. as the cavalcade proceeded along the plateau or terrace before described, and wound down the steep sides of the mountain, and along the valley towards the sea, it was joined by bands of horsemen, of ten to twenty at a time, arriving from different directions; so that, by the time they had reached the defile which opened on the sea-coast, the party amounted to nearly a hundred warriors. some of them were nobles of little consequence or wealth, who were glad to attach themselves to the standard of so gallant a leader as the brave uzden arslan gherrei; and others were yeomen and freemen, who had been followers of his family for ages. some wore entire suits of armour; others, only breast-plates and helmets; others, were without any defensive armour; but all were completely supplied with weapons: light guns slung at the back, scimitars attached to their sides, pistols in their belts behind, and the cama or dagger at their waists. the rest wore the tight-fitting circassian coat, the cloth or fur cap, and a large cloak over the shoulder; so that the whole of the party had a bold, martial appearance; the horses curvetting and careering, and the leader's banner borne at the head, fluttering in the wind. it was, in truth, a noble and gallant looking little band, worthy to be led by such a chief. and ina's eyes flashed with enthusiasm and animation, as she rode by her father's side, at their head, guarded on each side by a few of the most favoured and honoured. in order to avoid the more rugged and difficult passage over the mountains, the chieftain had, for his daughter's sake, chosen a route along the sea-coast, affording a plain and even path for some distance towards the north, before it would be necessary for him to strike inland towards the place of their destination. after riding for some distance by the side of the clear stream, flowing through the valley, they passed the narrow gorge which formed its entrance, emerging from it into the open coast of the blue sea, whose waves rippled on the bright hard sand at their feet. high on their right, rose lofty mountains, covered with shrubs of every varied form and hue. sometimes they passed beneath the boughs of wide-spreading trees, whose grateful shade sheltered them from the heat of the sun, now rising high in the heavens; and again where the gentle breath of the sea-breeze came soft and cooling to their cheeks. the leader kept his small troop together, except a few of the younger men, who galloped about in every direction, both to ascertain whether any enemies were lurking about, and to amuse themselves by martial exercises; now throwing the djereed with unerring aim, now galloping their fiery steeds up the steep sides of the mountain, amid rocks which appeared to afford scarce footing even for the nimble goats; then dashing amid the cooling waters of the clear blue sea, and swimming their well-trained steeds at some distance out in a line with the shore. there some would join in mimic fight, chasing after, or flying from each other along the hard sandy margin of the ocean. not a few, indeed, were eager to exhibit their feats of horsemanship before their chieftain's fair daughter, whose bright smile every now and then offered rich reward for any superior display of dexterity or courage. they were now approaching the neighbourhood of ghelendjik. though little danger was to be apprehended from their foes; who scarcely left their entrenchments, and never without a strong force when driven out by famine to forage in the neighbouring country; yet as a good commander, arslan gherrei considered it necessary to lead his men more carefully along the dehli khans keeping a stricter watch in every direction. to avoid the fort, it was necessary to leave the sea shore, and to proceed over some rugged paths further into the interior. a rapid and deep stream, however, the mezi, crossed their path, before they could reach a part of the mountains practicable for their horses and baggage. the nearest ford was close to the mouth of the stream; so that, to enable the women and their goods to pass over secure from wet, it was necessary to return again to the margin of the sea, which they had previously left for a short distance, in order to pass through a shady grove on level ground. the young men, however, at once dashed into the stream, quickly swimming their horses over, and galloped along on the bank of the side they had gained to meet the rest of the party, and assist them in crossing, which, with some difficulty, on account of the depth of the water, they accomplished. the warlike little band, forming in order, turned again from the sea, to proceed along the bank of the stream, to the entrance of a vast gorge, through which its waters passed. few scenes could have more of wild grandeur than the one now before them. the foaming waters of the stream, dashing over its rocky bed, were lined, where the crevices of the rocks afforded root for them, with willow, elder, and other trees and shrubs. on each side of the gorge, were dark and lofty rocks, overhung with bending shrubs and creeping plants, which fell in thick festoons; while the sides of the mountains, rising high above the shore, and crowned to the summit with thick growing trees, were so precipitous, as to afford but a narrow, steep, and winding path, difficult even for the nimble horses of the circassians. ina gazed up the steep sides of the mountain with doubt and hesitation, as to the possibility of crossing it; but finding her father about to proceed to the fort, she prepared to accompany him. some horsemen, who were sent in advance to clear a passage among the thick branches of trees and the underwood which impeded their progress, were about to scale the side of the mountain, when a loud shout from the rest of the band, rending the sky, called them back. at the same moment, a terrific crash, and report of cannon, sending forth a death-dealing shower of grape, laid many of the foremost low. arslan gherrei turned in the direction from whence the iron shower came; and calling to some of his retainers to follow, galloped furiously up the glen, without a moment's hesitation, towards a mound rising slightly above the stream, on which now appeared a row of light field-pieces, guarded by a body of russian troops, who had before been concealed by the ground they now occupied. at the same moment, the sides of the mountain, up which their intended route lay, glittered with hostile bayonets. half the circassian band, raising their terrific war-cry, rushed with headlong speed, led by their gallant chief, against the guns. the heavy discharge of musketry which met their advance, did not check them; and, with irresistible force, they drove the gunners from their posts, causing the troops to recoil before them. the russians, panic-stricken by their shouts, and the impetuosity of their onset, made slight resistance, as the circassians, seizing the guns, hurled them with several of their defenders into the torrent; and were about to follow up their success against the party of soldiers who guarded the glen, when they were recalled by a loud shout from their comrades. turning, they perceived the opposite side of the stream lined by a strong body of troops, who, as they passed down, opened a heavy fire on them; while, from behind every tree which clothed the mountain, appeared more of their enemies. turning their horse's heads, they again galloped back, in spite of the bullets which assailed them, to answer the call of their friends. the party whom they had left to protect their fair charge, seemed not to attract the hostility of their foes, for among that band none had fallen; but, at the moment they were again about to join, a strong troop of cossacks were seen advancing at full gallop, with loud shouts, to attack them. "there has been treachery at work, oh! men of atteghei! or we should never have been caught in this toil; but, my gallant friends, we must cut our way through them, or die, wreaking due vengeance on their heads. let us now remember that we fight for the fair ones we are bound to protect. on, my brave followers--on, men of atteghei, and shew our dastard foes that we fear not a host such as they. we will hew a way for ourselves through their crowded ranks, and pass the guns of their fort, leaving those who may survive our charge to follow if they will. on, gallant warriors, on!" shouted their noble leader. hearing these words, the band again raised their terrific war-cry, overpowering the rattling sound of the musketry, and rushed impetuously to meet the charge which the advancing troops of fierce cossacks seemed about to make. on both parties rushed, shrieking in their eagerness; their eyes starting from their sockets; their sabres clenched firmly in their hands; the hoofs of their steeds spurning the soil, and foam flying from their nostrils. the meeting crash of the hostile cavalry was terrific; but many of the first ranks of the cossacks were overthrown by the superior agility of the circassian warriors, their active steeds well seconding their riders, as their swords whirled rapidly round their heads, and descended with tremendous force on the unguarded bodies of their foes, whose sabres were shivered against their steel breast-plates and helmets. so fierce was the onslaught of the mountaineers, that the sturdy horsemen of the plain recoiled at first before their desperate charge. they might have succeeded in cutting their way through the ranks of their opponents, had they not been already weakened, and their numbers thinned by the deadly fire of the infantry, who continued to harass their rear from a distance; part only as yet having reached the spot to which the combat had been removed. these were kept at bay by a few horsemen who wheeled rapidly again and again when they ventured to approach; caring but little for the infantry, whom they despised now that their guns were destroyed; yet the force of the cossacks was almost overpowering, so that nothing but the most determined and desperate bravery would have excited the circassians to persist in the unequal combat. their movements too were impeded by the women. the young ina, undaunted amid the scene of desperate strife, endeavoured to urge her palfrey to her father's side; and was almost surrounded by the enemy, when the chieftain hewed his way towards her, and cleared a passage for her escape. yet, notwithstanding the most heroic and desperate fighting, the circassians were at length driven back towards the river, when nothing seemed to remain for them but to sell their lives dearly, or to yield themselves as prisoners to their detested foes. the courage of the chieftain, even then, quailed not before the danger; but he thought of his loved ina, and what her fate might be should he fall. again shouting their war-cry, his clansmen rallied round him, having retreated a short space to renew the charge. on they rushed with a furious shock; but it was only to find the hopelessness of their attempt. the attacks of the foes seemed principally directed against the chieftain arslan gherrei himself, as he was easily distinguished by his lofty plume, his jewelled poniard, his rich shining armour, his impetuous valour, and his noble bearing. the cossacks pressed round him, though many of their comrades bit the dust beneath his horse's feet. a spell seemed thrown over himself and his charger, for the shot fell harmlessly around them. the noble animal was equally energetic in the combat, rushing onward, and trampling down his foes, or seizing the advancing horses with his mouth, trying to overthrow them. [a well-known fact. the arab horses constantly fight in this way, with or without riders.] ina, amid the fierce slaughter and loud din of the combat, thought only of her father, following him with her eyes whenever the tide of battle carried him from her. towards her, also, many desperate attacks were made by the enemy in the attempt apparently to possess themselves of so lovely a prize; but too many gallant hearts were yet beating with life, to allow her assailants to succeed while they could yet wield their weapons. among their opponents was one who frequently led the attack, charging impetuously towards ina, whenever she was separated from her father; but it appeared that he, at all times, avoided meeting the chieftain hand to hand; and once, when he had almost reached ina, arslan gherrei again returned to her side; and the cossack officer, as he seemed, turned the tide of war in another direction. he was a person of great strength and height, dressed in the cossack uniform, except that a cap shrouded his face; but in the skirmish, his vest flying open, discovered a coat of chain armour, and his cap at the same moment falling off, exhibited the fierce features of the young khan besin kaloret. a shout of execration arose from the band of his adopted countrymen, as they discovered the traitor, and many an arm sought to cut him down; but, conscious of his shame, he seemed to avoid the strife. seeing the effect that his conduct had on the cossacks, and that he might, after all, lose his prize, he again desperately joined the combat, which had become fiercer than ever. the children of the mountains were still undaunted. placing the women in the centre, they determined to succeed in cutting their way, or to perish in the attempt. their war-cry was answered from above their heads; and looking up, they perceived a band of warriors amid the trees on the mountain's brow, dashing furiously down with headlong speed to join them. scarcely had the russian infantry, posted in the path, time to perceive their danger, when the fresh band of circassian warriors were upon them, cutting down some with their sharp sabres, trampling over others, and hurling the rest over the precipices, till none remained to impede their furious course. as the gallant men reached the strand, they were met by a strong party of russian infantry formed into a hollow square, bristling with bayonets. but, like a wild mountain torrent, broken loose from some alpine lake, nothing could withstand their overwhelming fury. concentrating their voices into one loud rending shout, of the most dreadful sound, they galloped with uplifted sabres at the steel formed wall. the russian front ranks trembled, wavered, and gave way before their desperate charge, which seemed more like a torrent of wild spirits, than of men, like themselves; unnerving their arms, and causing their blood to run cold. the fierce horsemen who rushed over their prostrate bodies, to succour their hard-pressed countrymen, were led on by a noble looking cavalier, without defensive armour of any sort, and in the simple costume of the country; but whose sword dealt dreadful havoc amid the foe, as he cut his way through their broken ranks. among this newly-arrived troop of circassians, were several chiefs in armour, some of whom joined the young leader, and others with their retainers, turned to follow up their success over the infantry, and prevent their rallying. onward flew the young hero, like a flash of lightning, followed by his squire, and by a youthful page, who kept close to his side, with a gallant array of horsemen. they shouted loudly to give their countrymen notice of the succour close at hand, and dashed furiously against the cossacks with so tremendous a shock, as to drive them bodily back for an instant, and to give arslan gherrei, and his followers, breathing time to recover from their exertions. but the cossacks, to revenge themselves for the check given to their nearly-won victory, soon recovering from the effects of the last charge, gathered in overwhelming numbers round the chieftain arslan gherrei, attacking his followers so furiously, as to separate him from them, and to hem him in completely. his gallant steed wheeled and pranced high, attentive to the rein, till receiving a wound in his neck, he became weak from loss of blood, and began to falter in his movements. hard pressed by numbers, the chief was nearly overpowered, when the young leader we have spoken of, saw his peril, and galloped to his rescue. at the same moment, besin khan, with a strong body of cossacks, wheeling round, made a furious charge at the spot, where ina had been forced by the press of the combatants to move, when separated from her father, with a few circassians only around her. seizing her horse's rein, after a desperate defence by her guards, he was on the point of carrying her off, when the young stranger leader, followed by a small party, rushed towards him, and cutting down all who opposed him, pressed the khan so hard, that he was obliged to quit his hold, in order to defend himself. the lady ina, thus restored to momentary safety among the women, and some of her father's retainers, again hastened to join the combatants. the traitor khan, who had recovered from his repulse, now seeing the stranger without armour, singled him out in hopes of making him fall an easy prey. their swords met: a furious conflict ensued between them: one backed by his adherents, the other by the cossacks. victory seemed doubtful, but besin khan's strength prevailed, and the young hero's sword being beaten down, the weapon of his opponent was about to fall on his unguarded head, when ere it could descend, a shot from the pistol of the youthful page struck the breast of the traitor. he reeled in his saddle. for a moment, he attempted to keep his seat, but in vain. his weapon dropped powerlessly by his side; his knees refused to press his horse's sides; and his eyes rolling wildly, he fell heavily to the ground, where his body lay trampled on by the prancing steeds of the combatants. a piercing cry of joy escaped the boy's lips, as his master was saved; and arslan gherrei, at that moment joining him, the two leaders fought side by side, heading their followers in many desperate onslaughts, till the cossacks, despairing of victory, endeavoured to save themselves by flight. as they galloped off, however, they loaded their short guns, and turned to discharge them at their eager pursuers. the chieftain loudly called on his clansmen to desist, for they had still many opponents. those who heard him, obeyed; but others followed their foes to within range of the guns of fort ghelendjik. to complete their victory, the circassians had still a powerful force of infantry to conquer, who had kept up a galling fire on the horsemen, during the whole time of the combat. the circassian chiefs, collecting all their followers, again charged the enemy in a strong body, breaking through their ranks, cutting them down, driving them into the sea, and carrying away as prisoners many who threw down their arms and begged for quarter. a few of the leading ranks of the russians succeeded in escaping; and those only by a strong force from the fort, with some artillery, sallying out to succour them. content with their victory, the circassian leaders assembled their followers. some were occupied in collecting their wounded and dead countrymen, and placing them on their horses; others, in collecting the russian arms and ammunition, most valuable to them at that time; and others, in dragging away the prisoners whom they had captured. among the dead, was found the body of the traitor besin khan; and every warrior, as he passed, cast a stone at it, with a low, muttered curse, leaving it to rot among the carcases of the hated urus, or to be devoured by the wild beasts of the forest, and the birds of the air; the greatest indignity they could shew it. the russian prisoners willingly followed their new masters, glad to escape the confinement and danger of the camp, for the safety and free range of the country; preferring, to the iron tyranny of the imperial army, a servitude under the kind-hearted circassians. no sooner was the fight over, than arslan gherrei hastened to the spot where ina and her women had been stationed, anxious to learn if either she or her attendants had suffered from the fire of the retreating infantry. all were unhurt; and his lovely daughter, though still pale, had begun to recover from the terror into which his danger had thrown her. great was her admiration and her gratitude, when she saw the gallant stranger rush so heroically to his aid; and she longed, with feminine eagerness, to express to him her deep thanks; but as she looked round to discover him, he was nowhere to be seen. "oh, my father!" exclaimed ina, as the chieftain rode up, "heaven be praised, that you have escaped unharmed from this dreadful combat; and that i again see you after the terrible perils to which you have been exposed! i thought never more to have been pressed in your arms!" "allah, by the means of that noble young stranger, protected me, my child," replied the chieftain: "but we must stay no longer here; let us hasten from this scene of death." "gladly will i go," said ina. "but first let us thank our gallant preserver; for know you, my father, that when you were separated from me, i was surrounded by those terrible cossacks, when he came, like a protecting angel, with the speed of lightning, and saved me from the power of that traitorous khan. oh! my father, i have much to thank him for!" "i will seek him, my ina," replied the chieftain. "oh! had heaven but spared me such a son as he, to delight my heart with his noble deeds, i should have been content: but the will of allah be done--he is great!" ordering some of his band to escort ina and her women up the mountain, he rode round to seek the chiefs of the party who had brought him such timely assistance. he first recognised the aged warrior, uzden achmet beg, and, throwing himself from his horse, he hastened to thank him. the two chiefs warmly grasped each other's hands; a few manly words sufficing to show the gratitude of one whom the other well knew would have acted in the same way towards him. as he turned, his eye fell on the hadji guz beg, who was advancing to meet him, though he at first scarcely recognised him after his long absence, disfigured as he was with the dust and smoke of the conflict. "is it indeed you, my father, my friend?" he exclaimed. "most welcome, are you to our native land, and well have you shown this day that, among the effeminate nations in whose lands you have journeyed, you have not forgotten the use of your sharp sword. thanks, brave hadji, for your timely succour." "oh! it is nothing," replied the hadji, laughing; "i will soon show the urus that i love them not better than of yore. and you, uzden, glad i am to see you, and to have lost no time in wetting my blade in the blood of the cursed urus for your sake." "thanks, many thanks, my father," answered the chief. "but where is that gallant young warrior, who rushed so bravely to my aid when hard pressed by the cossacks?" "he is my friend, my adopted son," replied the hadji; "a true son of the atteghei, as he has this day shown himself to be; but he gives not his name, nor know i even whence he comes. he will first do some deed to win a name for himself, and to show himself worthy of his father and his tribe; and happy will be the father who can own him." "happy will he be, indeed," replied arslan gherrei, sighing; "for he is well worthy to be the son of the bravest of our chiefs. whither has he gone? let me hasten to thank him." "i saw him last," replied the hadji, "closely pursuing the flying troops; i thought he had returned. perhaps he and his followers have already gone up the mountain's side." "allah forbid that the brave youth should have been laid low by the fire of the enemy, or fallen into their cursed power; for little mercy would they show him." search was made in every direction for the gallant stranger, but he could nowhere be found; and the chieftains, at length summoning the remainder of their warriors, hastened to overtake the party who had preceded them. volume , chapter xii. as our hero was attacking the retiring troops of the russians, he observed a young officer endeavouring to form his men into squares, and to keep them in close order to repel the desperate charges of the wild mountain cavalry. again and again were they broken; and at one time, by a furious charge, ivan succeeded in riding close up to the officer, in hope of taking him prisoner; when, to his sorrow, he recognised in his opponent his former friend, thaddeus stanisloff. before he had time to summon him to surrender, one of the circassian horsemen was on the point of cutting him down, when, throwing himself forward, he interposed his own sword, and saved his friend from destruction. a shot directly after killed the circassian; and ivan, calling upon thaddeus by name, entreated him to surrender. but at the moment the young pole recognised him, the russians rushed forward with desperation to rescue their officer, and ivan was himself obliged to retreat with his followers. he had no further opportunity of getting near enough to thaddeus to speak to him; for the retreat of the defeated infantry was soon after covered by the arrival of a strong body of troops from ghelendjik; and the circassian warriors were obliged to quit the pursuit of their prey. like the last heavy cloud of a thunder-storm, the mountaineers made a tremendous charge on the remnant of the retreating russians, almost overwhelming them in their fury; and then, like a whirlwind, they swept by before the arrival of the fresh troops, and galloped off to overtake their companions. as ivan was passing the prisoners, he heard a voice calling to him by name. he started, and turned to see whence it came; for he fancied he recognised the tone; and in a miserable object, his dress torn and covered with blood, he saw his former attendant, the faithful karl, in the hands of a mountaineer, who, on a promise of a slight recompense, consented to give up his prize to his young leader. as soon as poor karl was liberated, he rushed to ivan's side to express his gratitude. "my honest, my kind friend," said our hero, "it makes my heart beat quickly to see your old familiar face. banish all fears, for no one here will ill-treat you. you shall be at liberty to go where you like, or to return to your countrymen in the castle of ghelendjik." "oh, my dear master," replied karl; "don't, for mercy's sake, talk of sending me back; for that is the very last place that i know of in the world, that i should wish to return to. let me be your servant and slave as before, for i would not give a glass of quass for the freedom we gain, by becoming soldiers. let me follow you wherever you go." "well, my good friend," replied ivan; "you shall do as you wish; but we have no time to lose, or we may all fall again into the hands of the russians. keep, therefore by my side, till we get beyond the reach of the enemy." saying which, ivan rode on with his companions, karl holding by his stirrup. during the whole of the combat and skirmishing we have described, young conrin and javis were by ivan's side, charging into the thickest of the enemy; and many a blow did the page ward off from his master, while the squire was as much occupied in protecting him, for he seemed scarcely to think of himself. the boy's eye burned with an almost unnatural lustre, and his lips were closely pressed, as with sword in hand, he rushed amid the fierce melee; but he seemed to bear a charmed life, for neither steel or bullet touched him. while our hero was proceeding at a fast pace along the sea shore, followed by his two attendants, and a body of mountaineers, who had no little difficulty in dragging on some of their captives, and were besides, heavily laden with arms taken from the enemy, a loud shout made them turn their heads, when they perceived a large body of cossacks fresh from the fort, coming at full gallop towards them. the horses of all the party were already fatigued with the fight and pursuit; they had small chance of escape by flight, and they were too far outnumbered by the foe, to hope to gain the victory in a second engagement. yet, what was to be done? it was better to die fighting bravely with their faces to the enemy, than to be cut down in an ignominious flight; and at all hazards, ivan ordered his men to wheel round, and receive the charge of the coming cavalry, though the odds were dreadfully against them, when one of the circassian horsemen, calling to his companions to follow, led the way through a steep narrow ravine, thickly overhung with trees. here, at all events, they could fight at an advantage, if the cossacks attempted to follow; but most of the party had enough of fighting for the day. they eagerly followed their guide up the mountain, which appeared almost insurmountable for the animals. karl, in greater haste than any of the party to escape from his late masters, scrambled up the rocks with the utmost agility, scarcely looking behind, to see if ivan followed; who, finding; the uselessness of further fighting, rode after the rest; and they had already gained a considerable height, when the cossacks arrived at the base of the mountain. their horses, though fleet, were unable to compete with the goat-like nimbleness of the circassian steeds; and, as they rode about seeking for a practicable way to follow, many of their number fell beneath the unerring aim of the mountaineers. vainly returning the shots which told so fearfully among their ranks, they rode up the mountain in desperation; and at last, finding the pathway by which the circassians had escaped, and attempting to ride up it, they were still more at the mercy of their enemy; till at length, despairing of overtaking them, and having lost many of their number, their officers called them off, and they galloped back to the fort, leaving our hero and his band to pursue their route unmolested. from the spot they had now reached, it was much more easy to mount than to descend. continuing, therefore, their upward course among broken crags and stumps of trees, leaping and climbing from rock to rock, after infinite labour, they at last reached the flat ground, which crowned the summit of the mountain; when, striking across the country, they perceived the bands of arslan gherrei, and the hadji, with the chieftain's daughter and her women. no sooner did ivan and his small band appear at the summit of the hill, than the keen eye of the hadji caught sight of him; and spurring on his steed, he came to meet him, almost lifting him from his horse, as he rode up to his side to embrace him; at the same time, exclaiming with accents of delight: "welcome to my arms, my son! i feared one of the future heroes of the atteghei might have been slain by those rascal cossacks, as you could nowhere be found after the fight. but my heart leaps with joy, to see you alive; for well have you fought this day, and full worthy are you to be called a son of the atteghei! my eye was on you, when you first charged the cossack horse, and i was then confident you would prove no disgrace to your country; for bravely you fell upon them; and one of the noblest of our uzdens says, that you gallantly came to his aid, when hard pressed by our foes. his fair daughter seeks to shew you her gratitude, for rescuing her from the hands of besin khan, that vile traitor. so, my son, you have lost no time in becoming known as a gallant warrior, and the praise of the chief, whom you rescued, is alone the proudest meed you could gain." "happy, indeed am i, to have won his praise then," replied ivan; "and not the less your's, my kind friend. but i hope, with your guidance, ere long to win more laurels in my country's cause." they waited till arslan gherrei and his band came up; when the chieftain, leaping from his horse, ivan doing the same, advanced to meet him. "my gallant young hero!" he exclaimed, embracing him, "though a stranger, as i hear, in our land, you have this day shewn yourself as valiant as the bravest of our chiefs; and a deep debt do i owe you, not only for saving my life, but in rescuing my only child from the hands of our enemy. think not, that if i am wanting in the power of expressing my feelings, my heart thanks you the less. my child too longs to throw herself at your feet, to express her gratitude." "speak not thus noble chieftain, for you owe me nothing," cried ivan. "i acted but the duty of a warrior, nor deserve thanks for so doing; and tell your fair daughter, that to have been of service to her, is my greatest happiness. the gratitude of all is, however, due to my father, the hadji guz beg; for he it was, who shewed us the way into action." "do not thank me, my friends," exclaimed the hadji; "for i have not been so happy for years. inshallah! we left not a few of our foes on the field. but we must not delay here, my friends; the day is far spent, and if we lose more time, we shall not reach our konag before dark." mounting their horses, therefore, they overtook the rest of the party, passing the armenian pedlar and his pack horses. he had remained on the summit of the hill when the hadji's band galloped down to join the fight--a distant hearer of the combat, though not venturing to approach near enough to the edge of the cliffs, to see what was going forward below. "ah, man of trade!" exclaimed the hadji, laughingly, as he rode up; "you look fresh and well. as a spectator of our combat, you have managed to keep yourself cleaner than we have done. how think you, your friends the russians like it? but you will make a rich harvest; for there are few of our followers who have not something to exchange for your goods." ina gazed earnestly at our hero, as he rode past her; for an unaccountable feeling of bashfulness prevented his addressing her, though, bending low to his saddle bow, he respectfully saluted her, and went on to take his place by the hadji's side. not so, however, his page the young conrin, who gained a situation near her, earnestly stealing glances at her beautiful features, as her veil was occasionally blown aside; but they seemed not to give him that pleasure, which they so highly merited; for a slight frown and a look of dissatisfaction sat on the boy's countenance, though he seemed so fascinated that he could not withdraw his eyes from her. the warlike party now gained another height, close above the bay of ghelendjik, when the report of musketry was heard. looking down upon the fort, a wreath of smoke ascended to the sky, and they observed a company of the russian soldiers drawn up, and a man in the dress of the country fall beneath their fire. a feeling of rage and indignation agitated their breasts, as they fancied some friend might have been thus cruelly murdered; and brandishing their weapons they uttered a loud shout of defiance, and a promise of revenge. they were, however, obliged to retreat behind shelter, for their appearance was a signal for the discharge of all the guns in the fort. "bismillah! i wish we had some of their powder and shot, if they can afford to expend it in this way upon the rocks and trees," exclaimed the hadji. "but whom have the cowards dared thus to murder before our eyes?" a young mountaineer, who had been stationed as a scout close to the fort, now made his appearance. "yonder died the traitor squire of besin khan, who this morning deceived us all by false reports," said the youth; "and now he has paid the penalty of his deceit, for the russians have vented their rage at their own defeat on him." "it is well," exclaimed the hadji. "they have saved us a task, for which they are more fitted." as it was found impossible to reach the place at which they had originally intended to stop before night, a nearer konag was fixed upon, and a messenger sent forward to warn the host of their near approach. the shades of evening were fast coming on, as they caught sight of a smiling village, sequestered in a dell amid the mountains, and shaded by lofty trees. the chimneys with their curling wreaths of smoke, and the shepherds driving home their flocks, afforded a scene of rural beauty and peace, in welcome contrast to that in which they had lately been engaged. as our wayfarers reached the dwelling of the chief of the hamlet, the moon rose above the mountains, throwing her pale golden hue on their summits, and shedding her rays in a silvery stream amid the forest glades, and deep into the recesses of the dale. numerous domestic slaves ran out to take the horses of the chiefs, who were ushered into the guest-house, by the squire of the lord of the mansion; he himself being absent, mounting guard in the passes from ghelendjik, above which they had lately passed. ina and her attendants were delivered over to the care of the wife and daughters of the host. as ivan was dismounting, he observed the armenian merchant regarding the russian prisoners with an uneasy look, which was increased when he saw karl in close attendance on himself. javis also regarded the pedlar with a scrutinising glance. "there is something in that man's look that i like not," said he, addressing ivan. "i will watch him closely, for if i mistake not, he will be found no true friend to circassia." as the man, unsuspicious of what was said of him, moved onward with his pack horses to take up his abode with one of the inhabitants of the village, of equal rank to himself, karl came up to ivan who was standing under the verandah of the guest-house admiring the scene of loveliness before him. "hist! sir, hist!" he said. "did you observe yonder travelling merchant? where did he come from? i am surprised to see him in such worshipful company; for if my eyes deceive me not, i saw him a few nights ago, as i was on guard near the baron's quarters, pass by me twice, and each time a light fell upon his features, so that i think i cannot be mistaken. he remained closeted with the governor for an hour, and then took his way towards the mountains." "is it, indeed, so?" said ivan. "the man must be closely watched; for it will not be advisable to let a spy go at large. here, javis, i give it to your charge to watch the pedlar's movements. my friends seem to have no suspicion of him; but i will speak to the hadji, and persuade him to send some shrewd person to assist you, and act as your guide if requisite." as he spoke the hadji himself appeared, and ivan lost no time in mentioning the suspicions which had been raised about the armenian's honesty. "a spy do you think he is?" he replied; "i suspected the fellow was a knave when he tried to persuade the prince of pchad that there was no use in contending with russia. no use, forsooth! we shewed them as much to-day. but this fellow shall be watched, and he shall pay dearly if he proves treacherous." "you are silent, my son; of what are you thinking?" "i am thinking of a dear friend i once had who is in the ranks of the enemy," replied ivan. "he is a noble pole, who, did he know the true state of this country, would, i feel confident, be ready to shed his best blood in our cause instead of against us. i saved his life to-day; and i long to find means to see him and to bring him over to our party. say, my father, how i can accomplish it?" "i scarcely know," replied the hadji. "we might send some one on some pretext into the fort; but these russian rascals are grown suspicious of late, and our young men cannot now play them the tricks they were wont to do. it was a bad system; and our elders put a stop to it. it was at one time a common custom for the young men to go to the urus, and pretend to be great friends, and then to carry off all the presents they could get, and laugh at their beards. you must now, however, bide your time, and perhaps something may happen, before long, to favour your wishes." their conversation was interrupted by the announcement that the evening meal was served, and at the same time their host arrived from his guard. throwing off his large dark-coloured watch cloak as he entered, he offered his welcome to all his guests, and congratulations on the success of their recent exploit. volume , chapter xiii. the rage and fury of the baron galetzoff was ungovernable when, instead of his troops returning with a number of prisoners, the tchernemorskoi cossacks first arrived in disorder and dismay at the fort, giving news of the entire defeat of his well-laid plan to entrap the chief arslan gherrei and his followers, and of the dangerous situation in which the fugitives had left the infantry. he lost no time in ordering out fresh troops to cover their retreat, and he smiled with grim satisfaction when he heard that the instigator of the plan had fallen. he determined to wreak his vengeance on the hostage who remained, as having forfeited his life by the failure of the enterprise. the traitor kiru, suspecting that something had gone wrong from the bustle and excitement around, made a desperate and nearly successful attempt to escape, when he was dragged back by the soldiers, manacled, and chained to a stake, with a strong guard placed over him. no sooner did the governor return from succouring his defeated troops than the prisoner was summoned before him. "traitor! you have deceived me!" he exclaimed. "instead of capturing one of your chiefs, my troops have been defeated; and before another hour has passed you shall die." the tartar looked at him fearlessly. "if i die," he said, "my master and my tribe will amply revenge me; you dare not slay me." "do you speak, barbarian, of your master?" said the governor. "your traitorous master now is a rotting corpse among the bodies of my brave fellows whom he betrayed! expect not help from him." the traitor started at these words, and his courage seemed to give way. "russian, speak you the words of truth? has my master indeed fallen?" demanded the prisoner. "i tell you the truth," replied the general. "your master has received the reward of his treachery; and you shall soon follow his fate. i give you ten minutes to prepare; after that you die. lead him away!" he cried to the guards who held the prisoner. "since my master has fallen, what have i more to do with life? i spit at you--i laugh at your threats. do with me as you will, but i will yet be revenged." and with herculean strength, throwing aside the soldiers who held him, he had nearly reached the throat of the governor when he was felled to the ground. he was again manacled and led off, using every epithet of abuse, to shew his scorn of his executioners. at the lapse of the specified time, he was led outside the ramparts of the fort, where he was again chained to a stake to prevent any chance of his escape. his shallow grave was dug beneath his feet. his courage was indeed worthy of a better fate and better cause, for he quailed not during the preparations. a company of soldiers advanced; and as they presented their muskets he shook his manacled and clenched hands at them in an attitude of defiance, and uttering, with a dreadful shriek, the war-cry of his tribe, his body was pierced with innumerable wounds. ere the yet warm clay had ceased to vibrate with the pulse of life, the corpse was thrown into the shallow hole prepared for it, and instantly covered up; so that in a few minutes from the time a human being had stood there with all the energy and strength of life, he was for ever hidden from the sight of men, and a little new turned up earth alone marked the spot of the tragedy. none can pity the fate of kim, which he so richly deserved, though not at the hands of his executioners. but it would be fortunate for the russian name if it were not stained with atrocities of a much darker hue. the garrison of the fort remained all the rest of the day in a state of watchfulness and alarm, in expectation of an attack from the mountaineers, whom they thought their weakened state might tempt to come down upon them, if a sufficient force could be assembled in the neighbourhood; their fears however were groundless, for the day passed away without any further appearance of the enemy. some hours after dark, a figure was perceived by the outer picket stealing cautiously from beneath the shadow of the cliffs towards his post. the person, on being challenged, gave the sign and countersign, and was allowed to pass to the gate of the fort, where, the like caution being employed, he was admitted, and conducted to the quarters of the governor. the baron looked up on seeing him enter, with an expression of satisfaction. "ah! my faithful armenian," he exclaimed, "i rejoice to see you return here in safety. what news do you bring me from the enemy's country? do the barbarians think of attacking us?" "i bring you some news which may please you, noble general, though not much of general importance," replied the seeming armenian, in very good russian. "let me hear it quickly then; for i require some good news to put me in spirits after the disaster of the morning:" said the governor. "and how came you not to give me warning that so large a body of circassians were on the move?" "i knew not of it myself till the moment i saw the troops engaged," answered the spy. "well, well, i believe you: but your news now," said the general. "in the first place the barbarians are meditating some exploit--though i yet know not what, but will discover to-morrow--under the guidance of that old rebel guz beg, who has just returned from a pilgrimage to mecca, and has lost no time in inciting his countrymen to fresh outrages against you, their rightful masters. he nearly cut my throat when he heard me trying to persuade old mahmood, the prince of pchad, to send in his allegiance to the emperor. i was obliged to hold my tongue to save my neck. the hadji, as he is now called, touched at some place in the north of turkey, varna i believe, and there picked up a young russian, as he seems, though he speaks the circassian language, and two followers, who act as his squire and page. they at all events are russian, for i heard them conversing together, and i have my strong suspicions that their master is an officer of the emperor who has deserted, for i heard him speaking to one of the prisoners, whom he took to-day, as an old acquaintance, calling the man karl." "it is he!" almost shouted the general. "i guessed it from the moment you spoke of him. may curses rest on the traitor's head! one whom i had adopted as my son! but i will punish him for his vile ingratitude. that knave, who was taken prisoner, or rather deserted, was once in attendance on him, and a slave of mine. now mark me. i will give a handsome reward to any who delivers them into my power. are you ready to gain it?" "i would do any thing to please you, general, much more to gain a reward," answered the spy. "but i know not how to manage it." "it must be done," said the baron. "entice him near the fort, when he may be taken prisoner, or watch his movements, and perchance he may be found sleeping in the neighbourhood, when i will send a strong body to capture him. but mark me, i must have him brought before me a prisoner, and my orders are not to be disobeyed. follow what plan you will; i would rather have his head than that of a thousand circassians." "your orders shall be obeyed, general," answered the spy. "and i will set my wits to work for the purpose." "remember your reward shall be great if you succeed. you may now return, or you may be missed by the barbarians, and fail not to come to-morrow night with the report of your proceedings." "i will obey your orders, baron, without fail," replied the spy, as, bowing, he retired out of the fort, and returned to the village he had left, without the slightest suspicion that his movements had been observed. we must now follow the steps of our hero's faithful squire, javis, who was keeping a strict watch on the house in which the armenian merchant had taken up his abode, in company with an active, clever youth, whom the hadji had sent to act as his guide. they had not long to wait before they saw the armenian issue from the house, telling his host that he must, before night was over, pay a visit to the chief of the village, to settle about some goods he had sold him, as he might be obliged to start early on his way. to deceive his host he first took the path to the chiefs house of whom he had spoken; then, turning abruptly, he hastened in the direction of the fort of ghelendjik. following him at the same speed, over hill and dale, through brake and stream, javis and his guide traced him till he arrived in the neighbourhood of the fort. fortunately for their design, the moon was now obscured by some dark clouds; and, leaving the lad under shelter of some rocks, the gipsy crept cautiously forward, till he arrived close to the picquet, where he heard the password given, and the armenian, who addressed a few words to the guard in russian, was instantly allowed to proceed. remaining cautiously concealed, javis waited till he again saw the spy pass from the fort, and heard the officer on guard give him the password for the following night--"the eagle of russia"--when the man set off rapidly towards the interior. dodging his steps, javis traced him to the house he had left. outside the house of the chief, javis found the hadji and ivan anxiously waiting his return, to whom he related what he had seen. "let the knave rest to-night," said the former, "to-morrow we will give him a surprise he little dreams of. he can do us but little harm now." "i have thought of a plan," said javis, "by which you can communicate with lieutenant stanisloff, without danger either to him or to yourself. i heard the password given for to-morrow night, and i propose to personate the treacherous armenian, and gain admittance to the fort, where i will trust to my own wits to find out your friend, and give him your message, and to escape without seeing the governor, who would probably discover me. what say you, sir, to my plan? shall i attempt it?" "though i long to see my friend, i would not that you should run so great a risk; for were you discovered, your death would be certain," said ivan. "o fear not for me, sir," replied javis, "my life is of but little value to any one, and the danger is not so great as it appears; for those thick-headed russians are not likely to distinguish me at night from the armenian. i shall also, i have no doubt, be able to gain some further information from the man to-morrow." the next morning the armenian appeared with his packs on his horses' backs, as if prepared for a journey. he smilingly saluted the chiefs who were assembled in front of the guest-house; but alarm took the place of his smiles, when he observed the stern looks which met him on every side; and more so when he found himself surrounded by a number of their armed followers. "whither go you so fast, armenian?" said the hadji, sternly. "are you hastening to visit your friends the urus? what, do you turn pale? drag the treacherous spy from his horse," he added, turning to his attendants, "and bring him along. we will judge his case; and if he prove guilty, he knows the punishment of spies." the unfortunate pedlar trembled violently as he was dragged along to an open glade surrounded by trees, at a short distance from the village. here the chiefs soon assembled, as well as several rich tocavs or yeomen, and other influential men in the neighbourhood, who were summoned to give the criminal the fairest trial. the judges seated themselves, with due formality and gravity, in a semi-circle, on a grassy bank, when the terror-stricken armenian was brought before them. the witnesses against him, javis and his guide, were also summoned into their presence. javis first gave his evidence, which ivan interpreted, as also did his guide. "said you not, armenian, that you were a man of peace, and a friend to the atteghei?" demanded the chief of the village, who acted as president. "see that you have not spoken lies, and proved that you are a friend of our enemies. answer this one question: where went you last night?" "where went i?" tremblingly echoed the armenian. "i went forth from the house of my good konag, to cool my brow after the heat of the day. surely i went no where beyond the hamlet." "oh thou son of the evil one! think you to elude our vigilance? answer truly, or you die on the spot. why went you to the camp of our enemies?" "oh! spare my life, noble chiefs!" cried the armenian, falling on his knees. "i am but a poor trader, and i went but to sell my goods. oh slay me not, valiant nobles!" "do you not know that it is prohibited to have any dealings with the enemy?" said the president. "and of what use are such goods as you carry to the urus? but you are full of lies. you went without your goods, secretly, and by night. you know the enemy's password. you were seen to enter their fort, and shortly after to return. your own words condemn you. what say you, uzdens?" turning to the other judges, "has the armenian proved himself to be innocent, or is he guilty?" the chiefs, all standing up, pronounced the solemn words of the wretch's doom-- "he is guilty: let him die the death of a spy." the miserable being had not a word to plead in his own defence; but loudly crying for mercy, he lifted up his hands in an imploring attitude; for well he knew the dreadful fate prepared for him. the stern warriors relaxed not their features as they motioned to the attendants to lead him away. his crime was of the greatest magnitude, and no mercy could be granted him; not a voice spoke in his favour; not an eye turned with pity towards him. at some distance from the hamlet was a lofty and perpendicular cliff, at whose base, over a rough rocky bed, roared a foaming and rapid torrent. the wretched armenian, without any further delay, was dragged up a steep pathway to the summit of the cliff, where, by order of the hadji, he was stripped of his high astracan fur cap, his dark robe, and the appurtenances of his trade, and then led, shrieking, forward, to the edge of the precipice. as he thus saw his dreadful fate approaching, he screamed loudly for mercy and pardon; but his cries fell on the ears of those whom a fierce exterminating war had rendered deaf to pity for their cruel foes. as he stood, shivering with terror, on the very edge of the frightful chasm, in a last fit of desperation, he seized hold of those who stood near, endeavouring to drag them down with him; but his hands were torn from their hold; and two powerful slaves, appointed as his executioners, lifting him from the ground, hurled him, with tremendous exertion, far over the edge of the cliff. a last shriek of despairing agony alone escaped him, as he fell headlong into the dark abyss, grasping at the empty air, and seeking to find some hold to prolong life, even for a few moments. so deep was the chasm, that not a sound was heard, as he struck the shallow and rocky bed of the stream; and its waters whirled the mangled frame far out of sight. "thus, let all spies and traitors die!" exclaimed the multitude, as they retired from the scene of execution. volume , chapter xiv. reports were abroad in the neighbourhood of ghelendjik, that the russians intended to make some movement from their fortifications; so that, in the hopes of finding occupation for their swords, the hadji and achmet beg determined to remain on the spot to assist their friends; and ivan gladly availed himself of the opportunity of endeavouring to communicate with thaddeus. arslan gherrei was also persuaded by the hadji to remain, to lend his powerful aid in repelling their foes, and to give his daughter ina a longer period to recover from her fatigue. ivan anxiously looked forward to the evening, when javis was to make his attempt to enter the fort, and he determined to accompany him near the walls, in the hope of meeting thaddeus. every body was eager for information respecting the movements of the russians, some spending the day in anxiously watching the fort, while others were occupied in deep deliberation as to their future proceedings. the dehli khans, or young men, employed themselves in those warlike exercises which inure their bodies to fatigue, and make them hardy warriors. by the hadji's direction, the dress of the armenian was given up to javis. when the evening drew on, and he appeared habited in it, the bystanders started with amazement, thinking that the pedlar had arisen from the dead, so completely had he disguised himself. as soon as it was dark, he set forward, led by his former guide, and accompanied by ivan, whose anxiety for the safety of his follower, and desire to see his friend, made him wish to remain as near as possible until the adventure should be terminated. as javis arrived at the outer picquet, he gave the right answer to the sentry's challenge, and was allowed to pass on, while ivan remained concealed among the rocks. "who goes there?" cried the sentinel, at the gates of the fort. "a friend to russia," he answered. "the word, `the eagle of russia.'" the drawbridge was lowered. the pretended armenian entered the fort. the officer of the guard, unsuspicious of any deceit, ordered a soldier to conduct the spy to the quarters of the governor. as the adventurer and his guard got beyond hearing of the people at the gates-- "my friend," said the former, addressing the soldier in russian, and slipping some coin into his hand, "i know my way to the governor's quarters well enough by this time; here, take this to carouse with. you have a hard life of it here, i suspect. ah! you thought i could not speak in your own language. why, man, i come from your part of the country, and would ask a favour of you. i am in no hurry to see the governor, so we will not hasten, as i am before the time appointed, and he loves not irregularity. now say, how do you like the life you lead here?" "why, i do not like it at all," answered the man; "for we have nothing but hard blows, and get no rest from those infernal mountaineers, as we cannot tell from one moment to another when they may be upon us. if we wander but a few yards beyond the fort, some of our men are certain to be picked off by their rifles. then there is no booty to be gained, nor amusement of any sort." "you do not draw a very pleasant picture of your life here, my friend," said javis, "and i suppose that is the reason why so many of your men desert to the enemy, where they are sure to be well treated, and have little work to do. sometimes, too, they marry the beautiful women of the country; and, as there are plenty of warriors in the land, they are not obliged to fight against their countrymen. for my part, i wonder the general can keep any of his soldiers around him; but i would not breathe such an idea in the camp. now, my friend, do you know lieutenant stanisloff of the th regiment?" "do i know lieutenant stanisloff? yes, surely," answered the soldier, "i am his servant, and a kind master he is to me. this night it is his turn for picquet duty, so that he will be in his quarters, if he has not yet started." "will you then, my friend, hasten and call him hither," said javis, as they arrived near a row of wretched huts appropriated to the junior officers. "whisper to him that some one has something of importance to communicate. remember to tell no one about the happy lives the deserters lead among the circassians. it might be said that i was persuading you to go over to them, and that would not be acting the part of a friend to russia." javis retired below the eaves of a storehouse, where, in the dark shade, he could remain free from observation, while in other parts of the fort the scene was one of bustle and animation. groups of soldiers were seated round their fires, cooking their suppers; others gambling on a drum head for their scanty allowance of pay. numbers surrounded the suttlers' booths and huts where spirits were sold, quaffing, as their only resource from misery, huge bickers of quass and glasses of vodka. here parties were marching and countermarching to relieve guard, their firm regular tread heard above the din and clatter of the camp. in a few minutes thaddeus appeared, wrapped in his cloak, prepared for his night guard. on seeing javis he seemed annoyed, as with a tone of contempt he addressed him. "what want you with me, armenian? if you have any of your worthy communications to make, i should have thought that the governor was the fittest person to whom a spy should make his report." "hist, sir," said javis; "draw nearer--you mistake me. i bring a message from one who loves you, and who will not be happy till he has seen you again. do you not remember the night you passed in the gipsy's camp near tver? there you last saw me." "do my senses deceive me?" exclaimed thaddeus; "are you not the armenian spy who has for so long brought us information from the enemy?" "outwardly you see that i am; but i would not that my soul should be where his now is. but to my message. your friend, ivan galetzoff, is now waiting for you close to the fort. he has much to say to you. shall i tell him that you will come; you can have no difficulty, as i can assure you that no attack will be made on the fort to-night." thaddeus scarcely hesitated a moment before he answered, "yes, yes, say that i will go, at all hazards, to see him. where shall i find him?" "do you remember a peculiar rock jutting out over the sands, its top overhung by a large tree? close to that rock i will wait for you, and conduct you to him." "go then, my friend; i will trust to you. but how can you leave the fort? are you not afraid the governor will discover you?" said thaddeus. "i have no fear, and may easily deceive him." "fortune favour your hazardous adventure, my friend! i must hasten to my post," said thaddeus. directing his servant to accompany the pretended armenian to the baron's quarters, he hurried off, and javis followed the soldier's steps. it was a trying moment for javis when he entered the baron's presence; but his eye quailed not before his fierce imperious glance, as, imitating the armenian's manner, he bowed before him. "you have returned in good time, my faithful messenger," said the baron. "have the barbarians yet formed their plans to attack the fort?" "they have given up all hopes of doing so with success, noble general," replied javis undauntedly, "and have begun to disperse to their several homes." "that is well," replied the general. "and tell me, what plan have you formed to entrap the young renegade who bears my name? i must have him in my power by to-morrow night, at furthest." "i have thought of several plans, general, which i think may succeed; but i have a difficult game to play, as i fear that i am already suspected by the barbarians, and i should not have ventured to return to-night but that you seemed to wish it. i would not be away longer than possible, so by your leave, general, i will return at once." "you may go, man," said the baron: "and let me hear from you to-morrow." "i will obey your orders without fail," answered javis, bowing as he hastened from the hut, at the door of which he found his friend the soldier waiting to conduct him to the gates. "if a russian escapes from the fort to the circassians, you are certain that he is well treated by them?" asked the man. "o yes, my friend, they receive him with open arms," answered javis. "but you must not now speak to me. we may meet again soon:--farewell!" the adventurer was allowed to go through the gates without question, and passing the picquets, he hastened to the spot he had indicated to thaddeus, where, sheltered beneath an overhanging rock, he waited his coming for some time, till he began to fear that something might have occurred to prevent his leaving his post. at length his quick ear caught the sound of footsteps, and to his summons in a low voice, thaddeus himself answered. javis then led the way up a small ravine overhung by trees, under the dark shade of which he had left his master. ivan was anxiously waiting the coming of his friend, and as he caught sight of him he dashed forward, and the two friends were in each others arms. "you knew not," said ivan, "that i was a circassian; but i am prouder to bear that name than to be the highest rank the emperor of russia can bestow. but, thaddeus, my tried, my earliest friend, it takes away from the happiness i feel at meeting you again, to see you in the garb of the enemies of my country, armed against her liberty and her rights." "oh do not taunt me thus, my friend," replied thaddeus, "for, believe me, i do not now willingly follow the standard of your enemies. but how could i do otherwise? my father remains an hostage in their hands, and should i desert from their ranks, they would visit their vengeance upon him." "but why draw your sword at all, when against the cause of liberty?" exclaimed ivan. "surely your father himself would rather see you follow any other pursuit." "can you speak thus, ivan, who are a soldier as well as i am? would you persuade me to lead a life of indolent peace?" "then, my dear thaddeus, quit that hated standard, under which you now serve, and you will be welcomed, by the noble warriors of this country, with open arms," exclaimed ivan. "they love the poles, for they have heard of the wrongs of poland, and feel for her children the affection of brothers." "ivan, my friend, you wring my heart," cried thaddeus passionately. "i feel the justice of your cause; but i have become a soldier of the emperor. and would you have me, like a traitor, desert my colours? i was wrong to enter his service; but i sought for military glory, regardless of the cause for which i fought. doubly did i feel how wrong i had been, when yesterday i saw the desperate bravery of your countrymen driving thrice the numbers of the slavish soldiery of russia before them. to you, ivan, i owe my life; for had not your sword been raised to shield my head, i should at once have finished my career; and it was at that moment only i first recognised you. yet do not think me ungrateful if i still remain on the side of your enemies." "speak not of gratitude, thaddeus," answered ivan; "but let me draw you from the ranks of my foes, and from certain destruction." "no, ivan; deeply as i mourn the fate which divides us, i cannot change it while the emperor claims the services i once tendered to him. that i love you, my coming here stealthily and alone shews; for i have already been guilty of deserting my post; but i did so in the assurance that no surprise would be attempted on the fort, and that i risked not the lives of my companions in arms. that a love of quiet does not prompt my refusal to join you, will be evident from the life we all lead in the fort; and i in particular am subject to every annoyance which the hatred and tyranny of baron galetzoff can inflict. but i refuse, ivan, because, as a soldier, my duty will not allow me to quit my standard, till i am absolved from my oath of allegiance; and also because i would not expose my father to persecution on my account." "thaddeus, my friend, you have convinced me against my wish," exclaimed ivan. "i see your just and disinterested reasons, and have but to mourn the hard fate which thus places us on opposing sides. still let us be joined in heart, and endeavour to mitigate the horrors of this war." "that i will do as far as lies in my power," said thaddeus. "but now, my friend, i must hasten back to my post, or i may be missed. i have many enemies who would make the utmost of any departure from duty. the count erintoff, who has lately arrived here, and who knows i am your friend, is my colonel, and would gladly find an excuse for ruining me." "ah!" exclaimed ivan, "i long to meet that man in the field, to punish him for his atrocities." "he well deserves punishment; but i must not speak of him; and now, farewell. i know not when we may meet again; but believe me, my friendship will ever remain unchanged." saying which, thaddeus warmly clasped his friend's hand, and hastened back to resume the post he had quitted. javis and the guide, who had retired to a short distance during the conference, now approached; and on their way back to the village, javis related to his master his adventures in the fort. as ivan entered the guest-house, the hadji started up from his couch, eager to hear an account of his adventures, laughing heartily at the success of javis's disguise, and of the defeat of the plan to entrap him. "so the general of the urus thinks we are prepared to attack him, does he?" he exclaimed. "bismillah! we will make his fears come true. i shall not sleep all night for thinking of some plan to surprise him." volume , chapter xv. how often in our lives have we been obliged to quit some delightful abode, or some enchanting scene of pleasure, to visit places and persons we dislike, or to mix in the coarse bustle of the vulgar world! and thus must we once again lead our readers from the beautiful and romantic scenery of circassia, and from its gallant inhabitants, to the detested castle of ghelendjik, and into the presence of its fierce governor. the baron galetzoff had just returned from riding round the fortifications, and was about to throw himself on his couch for the night, when his servant entered the room to announce count erintoff. throwing his cloak around him, he angrily arose to receive his guest. "you come at an unseasonable hour, count," he said, with a harsh tone. "am i to have no rest either from friends or foes? what brings you here?" "i come with news which may interest you; but for your private ear, general," returned the count, looking at the servant who remained. "why stay you here? begone, sirrah," exclaimed the baron to the man, who hastily disappeared. "now, count, your news," he continued, turning to his guest, and relaxing his features a little. "it is late, and i would try to seek some rest; so pray no delay." "my news is not of much general importance," returned the count; "but to you, baron, it may afford some satisfaction. at length i have found that immaculate officer, lieutenant stanisloff, tripping, if indeed i do not succeed in proving him a traitor. as he was to mount one of the outer guards to-night, it occurred to me that he might perhaps communicate with that arch-traitor, your once adopted son, whom, as i told you, i recognised among the horde of the mountain barbarians we were engaged with yesterday. i, therefore, having gone my rounds, waited for some time, and returned to his post; but when summoned, he did not answer: he was nowhere to be found. i, therefore, left my orderly to watch him, enjoining secrecy, and called others to witness that he was absent from his post, in the face of the enemy. my orderly has just come in to say, that after a long absence, he returned from the direction of the mountains. he is, therefore, entirely in your power; but i would not seize him without first consulting your wishes." "then haste, seize him, and bring him here at once," said the baron. "to-morrow he shall die." the count hurried off to obey, and during his absence, which lasted some time, the baron strode up and down the room in an angry mood. at length the count returned with thaddeus stanisloff, his prisoner, strongly guarded. "so, lieutenant stanisloff," said the baron, glaring fiercely at him, "you have been absent from your post when before the enemy. you have held conversation with an arch-traitor to the emperor, and you are suspected of an intention to desert your colours." "whoever accuses me," exclaimed thaddeus, returning the baron's look firmly, "speaks a foul and slanderous falsehood, if he says that i am, or ever have been wanting, in my allegiance to the emperor." "i accuse you," cried the count stepping forward. "i myself discovered that you were absent from your post." "i grant it," replied thaddeus firmly; "and i await my punishment; but, beyond that, whoever was your informer is a vile slanderer." "know you not that even for what you acknowledge to have done, your punishment is death?" said the baron. "confess therefore where you went, or expect no mercy." "i expect no mercy at your hands," answered thaddeus. "if i deserve death, i am prepared to meet it." "hear me, obstinate youth," cried the baron, "you have held some communication with my once reputed son. you may do so again, but in the company of some trusty guards; and if i can see him safe within the walls of this fort, not only shall you go free, and your crime be overlooked, but your rise shall be rapid in the army, and honours and distinctions shall await you." at these words the prisoner seemed to gasp for breath. "baron galetzoff, i am in your power," he exclaimed, "or you should pay dear for such an insult as you have now offered me. think you that a son of my unhappy and enslaved country can be sunk so low as to hear calmly such vile propositions? no! you have torn us from our homes, you have taken from us our lands, you have ravaged our fields, you have overthrown our kingdom, and ruined our once proud families; but you cannot take from us our honour. i have ever been faithful to your emperor, our conqueror. i defy your malice. i will speak no more." the baron's own stern eye sunk before the noble indignation of the prisoner, as standing before him without trembling, he folded his arms on his breast. "madman," cried the baron furiously, "you bring your doom on your own head. no power in heaven or earth shall save you." thaddeus spoke not, but looking towards heaven seemed to implore its aid. "colonel erintoff," continued the governor, "i commit this prisoner to your charge, and you will take measures that he does not escape." "i will strictly obey your orders, general," said the count with a significant and sinister look. closely guarded, thaddeus was led out and placed in a miserable hut, built to serve the purpose of a prison for the fort. he passed a wretched night, heavily ironed. indignation at the baron's base propositions at first smothered all thoughts of his own impending fate. he rejoiced that ivan had escaped; but he longed to warn him of the danger he ran; and the impossibility of doing so added to the poignancy of his feelings. by degrees the conviction of his own miserable destiny crept on him. "how dark! how wretched is all around me," he cried in the agony of his spirit. "do thus end all my hopes of military glory? must i die with my once proud name blackened and disgraced; my character as an officer maligned? my father's last few and sad days hastened by the foul history of his son's disgrace and untimely death? i cannot bear such thoughts! oh that ivan's unkind sword had rather cut me down on the field of battle, than saved me for this end! little does he think that my anxiety to see him has been the cause of this misery. no! there is no hope, no glimpse of light left me in the world. let me prepare then to meet my inevitable fate like a man, and then my comrades in arms may at least say, that i died with courage and firmness. and, oh heaven! give me strength to bear my lot." he prayed, and ere the morning broke he slept calmly, even on the hard ground, in sweet forgetfulness of his doom. he was awakened by the entrance of a soldier with an open letter, sent by his brutal gaoler, in hopes of adding to his misery. it was from his father's kind friend announcing the death of his parent, his last words being blessings on his son. "heaven be praised," he cried, falling on his knees, "that misery has been spared me. the rest will be easy to bear." and with a serene countenance he prepared to meet whatever might follow. count erintoff soon after made his appearance; he was received by thaddeus with the most haughty coldness. "i come to learn," said the count, "whether you have thought better of the governor's propositions, and are prepared to accede to them, or meet the fate you deserve." "were i tied to the stake, i would spurn the vile offer, as i do now," replied the prisoner. "i have no more to say." "if such is your answer, expect no mercy," replied the count fiercely, and he quitted the prison, greatly to the occupant's relief. thaddeus was left for some hours to his meditations, when, his prison doors opening, a file of soldiers appeared to conduct him before the court martial assembled to try him. "i fear that it will go hard with you, stanisloff," said the officer in charge of the men, casting a look of pity on the prisoner. "you must be prepared for the worst." "fear not for me, my friend," answered thaddeus; "but i trust that neither you nor my brother officers will judge me harshly, though i am fully convinced of the result of my trial." "think not that your character will suffer," answered the other. "we all feel a warm interest in your fate." "that is already settled," said the prisoner. "i am ready to accompany you." when placed before the principal officers of the garrison, his trial proceeded as was to be expected, when the governor had determined on his condemnation. he was clearly convicted of having left the post he had been placed to guard, by his own colonel as witness; but when there was some demur as to his having communicated with the enemy, two servants of count erintoff's stepped forward, and swore positively to having seen him speaking to one of the chiefs of the circassians, and having overheard him promise to give them timely notice of any movement among the russians. though great doubt was thrown on the credibility of the men, who were known to be bad characters, yet as their own colonel swore to their honesty, they were received as witnesses. notwithstanding the preponderance of the influence against him there was a strong feeling in favour of the prisoner, both in the court and throughout the garrison. so great indeed had the ferment become, when it was reported that he was condemned to die, (most people being convinced that his sentence was unjust), that the count expressed his fears to the governor that a general outbreak would be the consequence, if measures were carried to extremities with the prisoner. "we shall see," cried the baron, furiously, "if my authority is not of more avail; however, i will disappoint their hopes, if they think to save the prisoner." after sentence of death had been passed on thaddeus, he was led back to prison, there to await his execution, while the governor summoned the count to his private councils. a fort had been lately erected between anapa and ghelendjik, during a time when the greater part of the patriot forces were engaged in another part of the country, some occupied in attending a religious festival, and others in agricultural pursuits, so that the few who remained to guard the coast, were unable to defeat the object of the russians when first landing; and in a day or so, by the time others arrived to their assistance, the entrenchments had become too strong to attack. the garrison left in it had lately been much reduced by disease, and had also lost many men in a party foraging for wood and water, so that the baron determined on sending reinforcements thither, and also to despatch the count there with the culprit, under the plea of inspecting the fortifications. "he is there, a stranger," he added, with a hideous smile. "and while those here are left in doubt of his fate, you count, can take the order for his execution." "i shall obey your orders, general, and hope to return in a few days, with an account of their having been fulfilled," replied the count, as he left the quarters of the governor, to make arrangements for his voyage. thaddeus was fully prepared for his coming fate, expecting every moment to be dragged forth to execution; and was much astonished, therefore, to find himself at the close of the day, placed on board a brig of war, without any notice having been given him of his destination. for a moment, as he was being conducted down to the shore, his faithful servant found an opportunity of approaching him, for the purpose of uttering his farewell. "do not be down-hearted, sir," he whispered. "you may be saved ere you expect it. i have discovered where you are going, and i will aid you, or die for it." thaddeus was then hurried on board with four companies of soldiers, under the orders of the count, when the brig instantly made sail to the northward; but as the winds were light, she made no progress during the night. as she was standing close in shore the next morning, several shot from rifles pierced her sails, and a party of horsemen were seen galloping along the edge of the cliffs. the brig's guns were instantly discharged, but the balls struck the hard rocks alone, the deep sound echoing along the shore. the horsemen had disappeared; but several other shot from various directions, hit the vessel; and the commander seeing how useless it would be to contend with his scattered and concealed foes, giving a parting salute, stood further out to sea. thaddeus all the time was kept below, in a state of the greatest suspense; no one being allowed to hold any communication with him. very light and variable winds detained them on their voyage; so that it was not till the end of the day, that they reached their destination, though the distance was but short. the fort, to which thaddeus was conveyed, was built further from the sea, than that of ghelendjik, nor could it be so well protected by the guns of a fleet, as that fortress; but, from the nature of its position, it was almost equally strong. there was, however, a securely fortified way from it to the sea, with which a communication could always be kept up, without fear of interruption from the circassians. the scenery round it was barren and savage; huge dark rocks rising on all sides from the sandy shore, broken into fantastic forms, appearing like castles towering above the plain. the fortress was built of dark stones quarried, from the neighbouring rocks, on a ledge rising gradually from the shore, and running far inland. it stood on the eastern, or furthest inland point of this ledge; a steep and almost perpendicular cliff protecting it on one side, while in front, there being a smooth green surface, and gradual descent on the plain, its defences depended on its guns, being so placed as to sweep the ground with showers of grape. a sandy and barren ground extended for some way in front, and on one side, a succession of low rugged rocks formed a considerable protection. the site had been chosen on account of the shelter afforded to the ships of war by a bay in the neighbourhood. on reaching the shore, the count ordered thaddeus to be conducted to a strong prison in the fort; while he himself went round to inspect the fortifications. the reinforcement he had brought with him was gladly welcomed by the commanding officer, who complained much of the small garrison, which was left to protect the fort. the count then informed him, that the prisoner he had brought with him was to be shot the next morning at day-break, by command of the governor of ghelendjik; producing the baron's written order, desiring him to acquaint lieutenant stanisloff of the fate which awaited him. the governor looked with pity on thaddeus, as he gave the count's message; but he himself received it unmoved, and thus addressed the officer: "i ask you to defend my fame whenever you hear my name blackened; say then, that i died true to my colours, and to my oath. that is my only request." "i will do my utmost to defend your character," said the officer. "farewell!" exclaimed thaddeus, "till to-morrow's dawn. delay the execution, if possible, till the sun rises. i would look once more on that glorious luminary: his beams will aid my strength." "it shall be as you wish, if i can possibly so arrange it," returned the officer, as he hastened from the prison, and left thaddeus again to meditate in solitude on his impending fate. the night had at first been serene and beautiful, but towards morning, sudden gusts of wind howled through the rocks and buildings of the fort. the thunder broke in loud peals over head, and flashes of lightning illuminated the gloom of his small and dark prison, through the bars of the only aperture to give light and air. the tumult of the tempest awoke thaddeus from a slumber into which he had fallen. it seemed to him to rage with greater fury than at first, as he sat up, watching each bright flash. the wind had increased to a hurricane. the tempest, however, quickly passed over, and all was again silent, except the low sullen roar of the ocean, as its waves dashed on the rocky and caverned shore, or the distant murmur of the passing blast among the trees of the neighbouring mountain. the dawn was about to break. thaddeus, whose spirits were exhausted by his mental sufferings, had thrown himself on the rough log, which formed the only seat and couch of his prison, and was falling into a quiet slumber, when he was startled by a fearful shriek, piercing to the inmost recesses of the fort. again and again it arose from all sides, far louder than the howling of the late tempest, drowning the shouts of the soldiers, as they rushed to their posts at the walls. soon the roar of artillery, and the rattle of musketry seemed endeavouring to overpower the sound of that war-cry; but it triumphed over all, and sounded nearer and nearer. thaddeus felt that he could not be mistaken; he had heard that tremendous shout but a few days before, when attacked by the mountain cavalry. the cannon had ceased its roar, when next arose the shouts of the russian soldiery; succeeded by thrilling cries for mercy and agonised groans of despair, answered by the loud, overwhelming huzzas of "allah! allah!" from all sides. a momentary silence ensued; and then a tramping of feet, as of men engaged in desperate strife. even he, from whom the fear of death had passed away, felt his heart beat quick, and his breath almost stopped. the cries passed close to him; the bullets rattled against his prison walls; and the flashes of the guns lighted up the gloom of the chamber. the strange unearthly noises grew more confused; the reports of the firing ceased, except a few straggling shots, and the shouts of the combatants passed on. knowing little of the localities of the fort, thaddeus could not discover in what direction the combatants had gone, when he again heard the sound of the rapid steps of a body of men passing close to his prison. presently, loud and quick reports of musketry were heard, and he concluded that a body of russians, cut off from their retreat to the shore, had thrown themselves into some strong building, and were making a last desperate defence. they seemed to be successful, as the firing increased, when an awful pause ensued, a tremendous deafening explosion took place, as if an earthquake had rent the earth; the prison walls were shaken to their foundation; the door flew open, and the roof fell in, overwhelming the prisoner in its ruins. volume , chapter xvi. we must now relate several circumstances, which had occurred while thaddeus was being transported from ghelendjik to the fort in which we left him. the words addressed to his servant by javis, when he visited the fort in disguise, had sunk deep into the man's mind. his imagination had been excited by the picture placed before him of rural happiness, contrasted so greatly with the wretched life he led in the camp. like his master, he too was a pole; though not like him, impeded by any scruples from deserting. having heard that his former friend was among the circassians, he determined to fly to him for protection, and to urge him to find some means of rescuing the prisoner; for it was well-known in the fort whither thaddeus was to be conveyed. that night, being on the outer guard, he threw aside his musket and cloak, and hastily sought his way to the mountains, among which he was soon seized by some of the many watchful guards placed there. the hadji was seated in the guest-house with ivan, earnestly discussing various plans for driving their foes from their shores, when their host arrived with a prisoner. no sooner did the captive soldier hear ivan speak to him, than he shouted with joy, and ran to throw himself at his feet. "oh, sir," he cried, "it was to find you that i escaped from the fortress. my poor master, lieutenant stanisloff, has been seized, by the governor's orders, because it is said he went out to meet you, and he is now going to be shot; but every body loved him so much in the camp, that the governor is afraid to have him executed there, lest there should be a mutiny, for which many are fully ready; and he has consequently sent him to a fort a short distance to the north. it is said not to be a very strong place, so you may probably rescue him, if you take it in time. i thought this would be the only chance of saving my poor master's life; and being very wretched at the fort myself, i ran off to tell you all about it." "my friend, i am deeply indebted to you," answered ivan; and he then explained the man's story to the assembled chiefs. "bismillah!" exclaimed the hadji, jumping up. "the very thing for us! we will set forth without delay; and, by the blessing of allah, we will take that cursed fort before the sun has risen in the heavens." "thanks, my noble father, for your promptitude," cried ivan. "no other leader would i rather follow in rescuing my friend. i doubt not of success." "stay!" said the hadji's more cautious brother, achmet beg. "we must consider the subject. we have scarce men enough for the enterprise, and look at the sky. the light wind that blows comes direct from the place: the vessel will take some time to reach it, and if we arrive before it, our object would be lost." "true," answered ivan; "you speak well. in my eagerness to rescue my friend, i overlooked that point." "and i too!" added the hadji. "mashallah! when there's fighting in the case, i am as forgetful of every thing else as the wildest dehli khan among them." "then," said achmet beg, "i propose that we send forward some trusty scouts to watch the vessel along the coast, and give notice when she arrives in the harbour. in the mean time, we will collect as many warriors as possible for the enterprise. what say you, uzdens?" "the advice is good," said arslan gherrei. "and i will gladly lead my few remaining followers to the assault." "well, then, that point is settled," cried the eager hadji; and turning to their host: "now, uzden, will you send out some of your trusty followers to fasten along the coast to watch the vessel? and you, my brother, despatch some of yours to summon all the warriors they can collect in the neighbourhood. there is no time to be lost on an occasion of this sort." the host hastened to fulfil his part of the arrangement, as did achmet beg also. far and near the messengers hastened, in every direction, on their fleet steeds, giving the word at every hamlet and mountain cot. the news flew like lightning, that hadji guz beg had returned from abroad, and had lost no time in keeping up his old reputation by leading an expedition against the enemy. wherever the messengers passed, the young men seized their weapons, either rifles or bows, from the walls, girding their swords to their sides, filling their wallets with meal for their provision, and throwing their cloaks over their backs. thus, fully equipped at a moment's notice, they hastened to the appointed rendezvous. none knew for what exact object the expedition was intended; but it was enough to know, that it was against the detested urus, and that the renowned guz beg was to be the leader. those nearest to the spot repaired to one of the points of rendezvous fixed on in a deep valley, about two miles distant from the fort to be attacked. before the sun had attained its greatest height in the heavens, on the following morning, the hadji found full six hundred fighting men assembled under his standard. many were chiefs themselves of note, attracted by the prospect of renown to be gained under the well-known guidance of so brave a leader. they came clothed in mail, and attended by a retinue of horsemen. others were sturdy yeomen of good repute in arms, also on horseback, (with their serfs on foot) anxious to vie with the knights themselves in gallant deeds. some were independent freemen, coming from their solitary mountain homes, acknowledging no specific leader, each man fighting for himself, as his inclinations prompted him: these were armed with rifle, sword and dagger. whatever was their rank or calling, they were all animated with one feeling--the deepest hatred of the common foe. while they were preparing to march, a loud shout among the multitude proclaimed a new arrival; and dashing among the trees, a noble young cavalier appeared, attended by a band of horsemen of his own age. the youth rode forward, as room was made for him; and leaping from his horse, he threw himself at the hadji's feet. "my son! my son! joy of my heart!" exclaimed the hadji, folding the slight form of the youth in his gauntleted arms. "welcome, thrice welcome, are you to me at this moment! alp, my son, you have not disappointed my hopes; and may you prove yourself as gallant a warrior as your appearance would promise!" then, as if ashamed of giving vent to his feelings before the assembled warriors, though still holding the young man's hand, and gazing fondly at him, he added-- "alp, you have now become a warrior, and these are no times for rest. prove, then, to your countrymen, that you are equal to the bravest." "i have but to follow your steps, my father, and i fear not that i shall gain renown." "now, my friends," cried the hadji, tearing himself from his son's side; "let all men on foot advance, under the guidance of the uzden achmet beg. the cavaliers will quickly follow." under shelter of the trees, the maidens of the hamlet had assembled to witness the departure of the warriors, and to encourage them with their prayers. among them was the lovely ina; her bright eyes regarding not the youthful cavaliers who careered before her, to win her smiles, but following her father's lofty crest as he moved about the field. as he caught sight of his daughter among the women, arslan gherrei sought ivan's side. "young warrior stranger," he said, "i have myself endeavoured to thank you for your timely rescue, when so hard set by our foes: but my daughter would do so likewise." saying which, he conducted ivan to the side of ina; and while they were speaking, he himself stood for some time entranced, gazing on them earnestly. "i would thank you, noble stranger," said ina, in a faltering voice, "for the inestimable blessing you afforded me in saving my noble father from the hands of his foes. to your bravery, i owe also my own safety, when i was near falling into the power of our invaders. i can only repay you with prayers to heaven for your safety; these shall be offered up to allah." "lady," answered ivan, "prayers from those sweet lips will add courage to my heart; but i pray you, do not think any gratitude is due to me. i was but fulfilling a vow i have made to heaven, to strike our foes wherever i can meet them; and i am yet unworthy to be ranked among the warriors of atteghei." "o yes, surely you are well worthy to be called one of the bravest," answered ina; "for who could have fought more nobly than you did?" "no, lady, i cannot yet claim that honour; but your prayers will nerve my arm to gain it," answered our hero. "i must now away; for, see, the knights are mounting their steeds. lady, farewell!" "farewell!" answered ina. "and may heaven prosper you and shield you from danger." "and may allah, too, protect my child," added her father, rousing himself from his trance. "i was thinking, my ina, how great a blessing would be such a son as yonder gallant youth; but allah's will be done! i, too, must hasten to lead my followers. farewell, my child." leaping on his charger, the chieftain galloped to join the cavalcade, while his daughter gazed on him with a fond and anxious glance. as ivan hastened to mount his steed, conrin, who had been watching him anxiously at a distance while conversing with ina, came forward. a blush was on the boy's brow, as if he had been discovered in a fault; and there was an uneasy look in his eye. "ah, my faithful conrin," said ivan, "i must leave you here for a time; you are too young to go on so hazardous an expedition. i must not again expose your life to the dangers of such fierce warfare." "oh! do not despise my services, sir," said the boy, with an imploring look. "have i been backward at any time in obeying you? have i done anything to displease you, that you would now leave me among strangers while you are exposed to peril? did i show fear when you attacked the cossack cavalry?" "no, boy, you did not indeed," answered ivan, with energy. "that day i owed my life to you; and i should be ungrateful did i not endeavour to protect your's; for that reason, i would leave you in safety here." "but i care not for my life when your's is perilled," answered conrin. "think you, sir, that i would survive if you were slain?" "you speak thus almost foolishly, boy," answered ivan. "i am grateful for your attachment; but you would find all kind to you, and many to love and follow. i know that javis loves you, and would protect you with his own life, till you grow strong enough to protect yourself." "javis loves me!" said the boy, gloomily; "but what is his love to yours? let me implore you to allow me to accompany you." "it cannot be," returned ivan, soothingly. "i doubt not your courage, and that you will some day become a gallant warrior; but your arm has not yet gained sufficient strength to compete with men. if i am wounded, javis will attend me; and if i fall, heaven will find you some other protector." "if you fall, i shall not need heaven's protection in this world," returned the page, with a despairing look. "you speak strangely, boy," said ivan. "i have thought of your welfare." as he spoke, arslan gherrei rode up. "uzden," said ivan, addressing him, (for, as it is customary to address a person by his title alone, ivan had not yet learned the name of the chieftain), "i have a faithful page who has followed me from far lands, and i would not lead him to the dangers of warfare, though he is urgent in his prayers to be allowed to accompany me. i would bestow him in safety; and if i fall, will you grant me a boon, and be his protector?" "i would do all you ask me, my noble friend," answered the chief. "i will, if it is your pleasure, place him with my daughter." "he could not have a fairer or kinder mistress," answered ivan, who, desiring conrin to follow, returned with the chieftain to the spot were the women were still standing. "i have returned, lady," said ivan, addressing ina, "to bring you an attendant, who would fain be employed in more warlike services. he is a brave youth, and i owe him much. i leave him, therefore, by your father's permission, to your gentle care, and he will serve you as faithfully as he has done me." "gladly will i follow your wishes, noble stranger," replied ina; "for he is a gallant boy, and i will treat him rather as a brother than as a servant." "thanks, lady, for your kindness," answered ivan. "here, conrin," he added, calling to the boy, "i leave you, during my absence, to serve this lady; and you will find it a more pleasing task than following me to the field. farewell! may you be as happy under her kind care as you deserve." two pages missing from the scan "lynx. we will here leave our horses and our guns; and let us see if circassian steel is not better than russian lead." another shout proclaimed the approbation of the band to this proposal. the most renowned and most active were then divided into four parties, of about one hundred and fifty men each, who, throwing aside all incumbrances, retained only their swords and long broad daggers. the hadji put himself at the head of one band, and his son alp led the most daring and active of the dehli khans, who willingly followed him in consideration of his father's renown. arslan gherrei led a third party of the bravest warriors, with whom ivan was about to volunteer, when he was unanimously elected to lead the fourth band. a few were destined for the less glorious, but necessary, service of guarding the horses and such arms as had been laid aside; and the remainder, under achmet beg, were to form a cordon round the fort, to cut off any stragglers of the enemy who should attempt to escape. the scouts, who had been sent to watch the vessel, brought word that she had just arrived in the bay, and that troops had been landing from her; but this did not damp the ardour of the mountaineers, though ivan remained in a state of alarm, lest his friend might be ordered out for execution before they could attack the fort. the night had been far spent before all the arrangements were made; and, at a signal given by their leader, the army advanced cautiously and in deep silence towards the fort. a storm with terrific fury now broke over their heads, when the hadji proposed to delay no longer; but (their footsteps being unheard amid the tempest) to rush on at once to the assault. the plan was, however, over-ruled by the advice of achmet beg. "stay, my brother," he said; "though the foe hear not the sound of our footsteps, the flashes of lightning would betray our approach." and as they arrived at the skirts of the forest nearest the sea, with the fort below them, he added: "see the lightning plays round the bayonets of the sentinels at their posts. wait, till they grow weary of the storm, and then perchance they may endeavour to seek shelter beneath their walls, and their eyes may not be turned this way." "your advice is good," answered the hadji. "let it be so." attentive to their chief leader, all the bands therefore halted; watching, in eager expectation, for the order to advance again. while our hero was waiting for the command to proceed, he fancied that he observed a small light figure, which now advanced, moving among the dark masses of human beings surrounding him. he looked earnestly through the obscurity to catch a glimpse of the object as the lightning flashed brightest. all was again obscure, when he heard a low sigh near him. he turned: his page conrin stood by his side. he spoke rather angrily. "how is this, boy? i left you under the lady ina's care. do you thus so soon disobey my orders?" a low sob was the answer. at length the boy found words to speak. "and do you thus so soon forget your promise, sir? did you not say that i might follow you through all dangers and hardships? and am i to be left at home in safety, while you are thus exposed to peril? let me now accompany you, and no harm can happen to me. my life is charmed when near you." before ivan had time to answer, the rain poured down in torrents from the dark clouds, and the lightning ceased. "now is our time to advance," cried the hadji to the leaders assembled around him. "to you, my son alp, with your fiery dehli khans, shall be given in charge to scale the steep rocks which form the side of the fort to the right. do you, uzden arslan gherrei, form your band on my left, and we will rush up the smooth ground in front. we have often fought side by side, and can best face danger together, while our armour will protect us in the most exposed situation. you, stranger, with your light-clad followers, must storm on the left, and as far round towards the sea as they can reach over the rough and rocky ground; while do you, my brother, be ready to strengthen any of us who may require aid. and now, chiefs, in the name of allah! lead on your followers." the leaders hastened to the head of their bands, and, amidst the loud roaring of the tempest, and the dashing of the rain, they stole in deep darkness close beneath the walls of the doomed fort. the sentinels at their posts, with their heads muffled in their cloaks, did not suspect the danger that surrounded them; or, when they looked beyond the walls, were blinded by the rain, and saw nothing besides the dark veil which shrouded them. our hero, with a guide, whom he kept close to him, reached the very trench of the fort, on the south-western angle, at the very moment that the other bands gained their destined posts. then crouching down, they could scarcely have been distinguished from the rocks and coarse herbage which covered the ground, even had the clouds cleared off, and allowed the stars to give their light. there the hardy mountaineers waited, scarcely daring to breathe, for the hadji's preconcerted signal to commence the attack. silent, as tenants of the grave, they watched, while not a human being within the fort perceived the thick clustering foe, or dreamed that danger was nigh. the rain had ceased, and the tempest had passed away, when the pale cold light of dawn began, by imperceptible degrees, to appear; yet, before it had thrown a gleam of brightness on the scene, the deep sonorous voice of the hadji, uttering the cry of "allah! allah!" broke the stillness of the air, and was taken up on all sides by the eager warriors, as they rushed impetuously to the assault. they had gained the summit of the ramparts, before the sentinels could recover from their panic. vain was the slight resistance they could offer, as they sunk beneath the powerful arms of their assailants. wherever the russian soldiers turned, as they rushed in disordered affright from their huts, they found themselves surrounded by foes. even on the side they considered impracticable, alp beg, with his youthful and active followers, assaulted them; while on the sea-side, ivan and his band had sprung over the entrenchments, and had driven those who attempted to withstand him from the walls. a few of the most determined of the garrison made a desperate rush towards the guns, which vomited forth a shower of grape; but in a few minutes, the men who fired them were cut down by the mountaineers. on every side arose those tremendous cries which quailed the stoutest hearts. innumerable foes seemed to be hurled from out of the obscurity of the sky among the russians, as the circassians leaped over the trenches. arslan gherrei and the hadji had met with the greatest opposition in front; but the latter, fighting his way, had joined his son alp, on the right, while the brave commander of the fortress, rallying a strong body of troops, met the former chieftain in his victorious course. the russians opened a tremendous fire, beneath which many of their assailants fell, as encouraged by their officer's example, they advanced to meet them, the circassians rushing to their very bayonets' points. so bravely did the former fight, that many of the circassians were for a time driven back; and arslan gherrei found himself surrounded by russians. many of the most daring advanced to seize him, but his sword kept them at bay; yet they seemed determined to overwhelm him: when our hero, on seeing so large a body of defenders still keeping together, led on some of his men, and fought his way towards the spot. there was just sufficient daylight to distinguish objects at no great distance; when, catching sight of the heroic arslan gherrei, hard pressed, and defending himself singly against a host of foes, he shouted loudly his name, and strained every nerve to reach him. he almost shrieked with eagerness, as he fell, like a tiger, on the intervening combatants, till he hewed a way to the rescue of the noble chieftain. and, once again, those two brave warriors fought side by side, their foes giving way before them: none could withstand their arms. then as their followers united, the enemy retreated to a building in their rear, into which some found entrance, and opened a heavy fire on the assailants, while the rest remained without, fighting with their backs to the walls. the firing lasted but a few minutes; when a terrific explosion took place. the earth shook with violence; and the combatants, interrupted in their deadly strife, were covered with the falling ruins, and obscured by smoke and dust. ivan looked around. arslan gherrei stood unharmed near him. around them, and amid the fallen building, lay strewed the bodies of their late opponents, and of many of their own party, killed by the descending ruins. wherever ivan moved, the daring young page was by his side, fearless of the strife. unharmed by the swords of the foe, and the falling ruins, he pursued his way, fighting as bravely as the boldest warrior, and regarding only his master's safety. by the light of the burning rafters, which blazed furiously, ivan eagerly hastened in search of his friend; and as the smoke and dust cleared off, he caught sight of a human being, endeavouring to extricate himself from the ruins of a small building. he leaped over the smoking ruins, towards the spot, followed by some of his men. in a few minutes he had the happiness of lifting his friend stanisloff in his arms, and seeing his fetters knocked off, while loud shouts proclaimed the satisfaction of his liberators. in the mean time, the venerable hadji and his gallant son had cleared the fort of all who opposed them. young alp drove the russians to the water's edge, so that at the time the magazine blew up, all opposition had ceased. as the victors hurried through the fort, the sound of cannon from the ship of war in the harbour, proclaimed that some of their enemies had reached the shore, and were being protected in their embarkation. a party, therefore, hurried off to assist alp in capturing the remainder of their defeated foes, or in utterly destroying them. as the sun rose in majestic splendour over the mountains, what a scene of havoc and destruction it revealed! on every side were the bodies of the slaughtered russians, ghastly with the terrific wounds of the broad bladed cama, which had pierced home to the breasts of the victims, doing its work surely. their countenances were livid, and their limbs distorted into every frightful attitude. among them, near the walls, lay many bodies of the mountaineers, their sabres firmly clasped in their clenched hands, scarcely shewing the small death wound caused by the bullet. some lay pierced by the bayonets of the defenders of the castle, as they leaped from the parapet among them. farther in the centre, amid their slain husbands and fathers, were the bodies of several women and children, who, rushing from their huts, at the first terrific sound of the onslaught, had been, in the darkness and confusion, overthrown, unknowingly slain, and trampled upon, by the fierce combatants of either side. round the smoking ruins of the magazine which had exploded, were the blackened remains of the gallant commander of the fort, and of the few faithful soldiers who had taken refuge with him in the building attached to it; and, crushed amid the heaps of earth and stones, were the bodies of several of the fierce mountaineers who were attacking it. some of the store-houses and barracks had likewise caught fire, and were blazing up furiously, to add to the destruction and confusion. parties of the victors were hurrying over the fort, some ransacking the quarters of the officers, others piling the arms of the conquered, and others collecting the prisoners who had lain down their arms. the cannonading soon ceased, and the brig of war was seen standing out of the harbour, carrying away the poor remains of the garrison, who had first escaped to the shore, though the greater part had either been slain, or made prisoners. none of the chiefs of note had fallen, they being well protected for this species of fighting, by the coats of chain armour they wore under their dress; but it was a dearly-bought victory to their followers, three score of whom had perished by the bullets of the russians, and by the explosion of the magazine. achmet beg, notwithstanding his advanced age, had not been able to restrain his ardour; but with somewhat of the fiery valour of his brother the hadji, when the shouts of the combatants arose, had quitted his post outside, and, scaling the ramparts, with many of his followers, joined in the fray. overcome with fatigue he stood like the statue of an aged mars, leaning on his sword reeking with the blood of his foes, and covered with the dust and smoke of the combat. alp beg now returned from the pursuit of the enemy, whom he had almost cut to pieces before the remnant succeeded in escaping to the boats of the brig. among the latter, was probably the count erintoff; as when ivan and thaddeus went in search of his corpse, it was no where to be found. the chieftains then assembled in the centre of the fort; when our hero led forth his rescued friend, who was received with warm and sincere congratulations by his gallant liberators. few words passed between them; for there was still much to be done, and all were anxious to return to give assurance to their friends of their success. by ivan's side stood young conrin, amid the fierce and bearded warriors; one bright and glowing spot alone remained on his otherwise pale cheek, and his eyes burned with the same unearthly lustre which they had shewn after the former combat. his lip at times quivered, and his arm still trembled with the exertion he had undergone, as his hand grasped a weapon marked with many a red stain. alas! that one so young, and seemingly of so gentle a nature, should engage in scenes of bloodshed like this! the boy gazed up in his master's face with a look expressive of such satisfaction and joy, that he had escaped the dangers of the attack, that ivan relented from the displeasure he had felt at the youth's rashness, and, placing his hand on his shoulder, said: "it was for your safety, my brave, but rash, conrin, that i forbade you to accompany me on this expedition; and for my own sake also. for my grief would have been, indeed, great, and i should never have ceased blaming myself, had you fallen, or received any injury. therefore, if you love me, venture not again into such danger." the boy burst into tears. "it would be my greatest joy to die at your feet, if i thought you loved me as i would be loved!" exclaimed he passionately. "and i am amply rewarded for all the horrors of this scene, now that the moment has arrived in which i know that you are safe." "boy, you will wear that gallant young spirit out, if you thus exert it before its time. for my sake, if not for your own, play me not thus false again," said ivan. "and, now as a truant, i must return you to your mistress." "am i then forgiven, sir?" asked the boy. "yes, conrin, yes, you are forgiven; and gladly, as you have not suffered. but see, the chiefs are moving on, and i must join them." the chiefs had been holding a consultation, in which it was agreed to destroy the fort completely. achmet beg volunteering to remain with a party of his followers, to superintend its entire demolition. the rest quitted the fort, the drawbridge being lowered for their exit. they were received with shouts of congratulation by the party outside the walls, each man laden with the arms and other booty which they had found in the fort, and carefully guarding the few prisoners they had taken. a more mournful procession followed, conveying on quickly-formed biers, the bodies of their slain comrades, the bearers changing, at intervals, the triumphant songs of victory into cries of lamentation for their early fate. the victorious little army first repaired to the secluded vale where they had left their horses, their rifles, their cloaks, and provisions, and where the last sad obsequies were to be performed to the slain. but it was a consolation to all the true believers in mahomet, that, falling in defence of their country, their souls would find a quick passage to paradise. short, consequently, was the burial service of the brave warriors, though the grief of the survivors was not the less for the friends who had fallen. the chieftains, therefore, leaving a party to commit the bodies to their last resting-place in that quiet spot, hastened back to defend the passes of ghelendjik, lest the garrison, taking advantage of the absence of many of the inhabitants, should attempt to ravage the country. volume , chapter xvii. scarce a whole day had passed since the band of gallant warriors had left the neighbourhood of ghelendjik, when they returned crowned with victory. one of the detested forts of the foe was levelled to the ground, and thus one of the first links of the chain, the fana moscov were striving to throw around the land was burst asunder at a single blow. this showed them what they might still do; it raised their courage; it inflamed their ardour. again and again they vowed never to yield while an arm remained to strike. the noble hadji was in high spirits at the success of this the first enterprise he had engaged in since his return to his native land; nor the less so at the gallantry which his son had displayed. he careered along, at the head of the party, gay as the most youthful warrior among them. the heroic arslan gherrei, on his magnificent black charger, his plume towering above the others, rode sedately near him, his features, except when excited amid the combat, ever wearing the same grave stern expression. in each of the small secluded hamlets through which they passed, the women came forth to welcome them, throwing flowers in their path, and singing triumphant hymns of praise for their victory. some made eager inquiries for husbands, and fathers, or brothers; and sad was the wail raised in lieu of songs of triumph, when the death of any loved one was announced to them. by the side of our hero rode his friend thaddeus, for whom he had procured a horse, and who now related the events which had lately occurred to him, and the attempted revenge of the count erintoff. "you are now then, my dear thaddeus, surely absolved from all allegiance to the emperor?" said ivan. "and you may join, without scruple of conscience, the only cause for which a man is justified in fighting, when not for the protection of his own country, the defence of a gallant people's dearest liberties, their homes, their families, against the power of tyrants who would enslave them." "true, my friend," answered thaddeus, "such i now feel is a righteous cause, sanctified by heaven; such the true cause in which the pure spirit of chivalry delights to engage; far different from the hireling service which would place a tyrant or an usurper on the throne, and aid him in oppressing a people whom it is his office to govern." "i am rejoiced to hear you speak sentiments so like my own," exclaimed ivan, "and of which you, of all men, have just reason to feel the truth." "since we parted, i have thought much on the subject, even though death was hanging over me," returned the young pole. "one of the causes, which then made me refuse to join your party, has been removed. my father is no more. the thraldom under which his noble spirit groaned, and grief for his country's overthrow, have at length brought his life to a close." "then, surely," said ivan, "you can no longer, with reason, consider yourself bound to russia." "i do not; i consider myself justly absolved from my oath of service to the emperor," answered thaddeus. "but can you blame me, when i hesitate to turn my sword against my former brothers in arms, many bound to me by the ties of friendship?" "that you need never do," answered ivan; "and henceforth, i shall hail you as my brother in arms; for circassia has foes enough without numbering the few you can claim as friends. the fierce and daring cossacks shall be your opponents, and along the banks of the kouban, they will afford you abundance of opportunities of gaining credit and renown among us." "press me not further on the subject, my friend," returned the pole. "i have scarcely yet learned to consider myself as numbered among the living, so rapid and stunning has been my delivery from death. i have much to give me serious reflection." the two friends relapsed into silence for some time; for ivan's thoughts were also deeply occupied with conjectures, vague, uncertain, yet full of hope, as to who was the brave chieftain, whose name he had heard, and whose noble bearing, heroic valour, stern and melancholy, yet courteous deportment had inspired him with feelings of love and admiration, such as his heart was unaccustomed to accord to others; but he could not yet bring himself to address him. as the party approached the beautiful village they had left the previous day, a group of bright and graceful forms was seen between the trees, waving garlands of flowers; their sweet voices singing songs of welcome and congratulation to the victorious warriors. the chiefs, throwing their reins to the squires, leaped from their steeds, as they reached the woodland glade, already mentioned as the romantic hall of assembly for the neighbourhood. the maidens advanced to meet the warriors, each anxious to welcome the most beloved of their gallant defenders; and still more lovely than all, came ina, rushing with joy into the arms of her father. that one affectionate embrace of his child, was a full recompense to the heart of the noble hero, for all the risks and dangers of war. the wife and daughters of the chief of the hamlet came forward also to welcome him and his sons; and many a bashful maiden betrayed her hitherto concealed love for some gallant youth, in her joy at his safe return from battle. it was a highly interesting scene. diana-like forms of women, clothed in coloured and richly ornamented robes, with long white veils floating gracefully from their heads; the shining and embossed armour, jewelled weapons, and tall plumes of the noble chiefs; the groups of high-mettled steeds, and bands of retainers, assembled on the verdant lawn, surrounded by the bright foliage of lofty trees and canopied by the blue vault of heaven; formed a picture, such as titian or rubens might have loved to paint. it reminded one of the romantic days of chivalry, now long since faded from all other lands but that of the heroic atteghei. near ivan stood thaddeus, enraptured by the beautiful and noble scene; but, more than all, by the loveliness of ina, as his glance first fell on her, clinging to her father's arm. his very soul became entranced as he gazed, nor could he withdraw his admiring eyes; never had he seen a being more lovely, more graceful. it was to him, as if, after arriving from the dark regions of death, he had entered a glorious paradise. scarcely were the first greetings over, when the hadji advanced towards ivan, and taking his hand, led him forward into the midst of the assembled chiefs, exclaiming, "to you, my noble friend arslan gherrei, and to you, chieftains all, i speak. i have this day a pleasing duty to perform. here stands one whom i am proud to call my friend; with me he came to these, our native shores; but to this moment, i know not his name. he was under an oath, and none could disapprove it, not to tell his name or lineage, until he had gained for himself a warlike and noble title, and proved himself worthy to belong to the pure race of the atteghei. i call on you all, who have been spectators of his deeds of arms; who have seen his heroic bravery, when combating against the foes of our country; to bear witness, that he is worthy to be called one of the noblest of the children of the atteghei; i call on you all, to declare, if you will welcome him as a brother, the bravest of the brave among us?" "we do! we do!" was shouted from all sides; "he is a true son of the atteghei. we welcome him as a gallant brother in arms." uttering similar expressions, each chieftain advanced to grasp his hand, in token of approval. the heart of our hero beat quickly, as the blood tumultuously rushed through his veins, with a glow of noble pride, at the applause of his countrymen; but more than all, at the hope that the consummation of his most anxious wishes was about to draw near. "i knew, my friends, that you could have but one opinion," said the hadji. "but to you, arslan gherrei, i more particularly speak, for twice have you been witness of the bravery of the stranger warrior; twice has he rescued from peril, that life so prized by our country." "truly do i know how brave and noble he is," answered the chieftain advancing; "and gladly do i hail him as a son of the atteghei." "young warrior, you hear what has been spoken of you by some of the most gallant chiefs of circassia. what more would you have to absolve you from your oath?" exclaimed the hadji with animation. "i am overwhelmed with the proud feelings of my heart," cried our hero. "no greater praise can i ever hope to gain. i will keep my secret no longer. the name i bore at my birth was selem gherrei!" "what! speak that name again," cried arslan gherrei, springing forward. seizing his hand he held it in his grasp, while he gazed earnestly into his face. "noble youth, whence come you? can a blessed spirit rise from the dead? speak, ere my heart burst with impatience; say who gave you that name?" "my mother," answered our hero. "when a child, i was carried away with her by a russian commander; she continued to watch over my youth till death tore her from me." "it is enough; you are--you are my son, my long mourned son. i need no more to convince me," cried the chieftain, clasping the youth in his arms, while manly tears of joy burst from the long dried up fountains of his eagle eye. "am i! am i, noble chief, your son?" cried the youth, no less overcome, and falling on his knees while returning his new-found father's embrace. "has heaven, indeed, granted me so proud a blessing? see, i have borne this amulet from childhood, and have ever religiously guarded it. this may prove my birth." "i need no mark to convince me that you are my son. nature speaks loudly for you, though well do i remember that amulet," cried the chieftain. "you are, indeed, my son, and allah be praised for his bounty. i felt it when first i saw you, like a guardian angel, fighting by my side, and rescuing me from death; i felt it when first i heard the rich manly tones of your voice inciting your followers to the fight. yes, my heart beat with joy that another warrior should be added to the cause of the atteghei; and now how proud and grateful i am, let heaven witness. see, chiefs, i here present to you my son. great heaven has granted me the only boon i craved," he added, lifting up his son. "after the witness you have borne of his bravery you all must know how proud i am of him." "have i not a sister, too, my father? let her also participate in our joy," cried his son, hastening to embrace ina, who, trembling with agitation, had advanced to the spot. "my sister, my sweet sister!" "oh, my brother! allah be praised that i may pronounce that dear name. now can my father's heart rejoice that he has found his long-wished-for son. already does my heart give some of the love our father once claimed, to you, my brother," she said with a sweet smile beaming through her fast falling tears of joy. the chieftains had courteously retired to some distance, so as not to restrain the indulgence of arslan gherrei's feelings of happiness; but they gazed with deep interest, as the once stern and gloomy champion of their country melted into softness, as he looked on his newly-found gallant son. the hadji also was delighted. "i knew, my friend," he cried, "that none but a noble father could have owned a son brave as my young friend, selem gherrei. say, warriors, are they not worthy of each other?" "yes, yes! may allah grant a long and prosperous life to our gallant champion, arslan gherrei, and to his brave son, the young selem," was shouted by the assembled warriors. "long live selem gherrei!" was echoed through the grove, as they advanced in gallant and martial array, each grasping selem's hand as they passed him and his proud and happy father; nor could they refrain from giving an admiring but respectful glance at the fair ina, as she stood clinging to her newly-found brother's arm. then arose the song of a wandering minstrel, who, attracted by the fast flying news of the storming of the fort, had repaired hither to commemorate the victory with his muse; and here was a theme well worthy of his martial strains. first tuning his lyre he broke forth into a loud triumphant hymn of victory; then, changing his theme, he described the fierce attack of the russians, when the noble chief arslan gherrei was deprived of his wife and son; then it sunk into a low strain of grief, worked into rage against the ravishers. he next enumerated the many bloody combats in which the chief had fought to revenge himself on his foes, the coming of the youthful stranger, his fighting by his father's side and rescuing him and his sister from the enemy. finally, as he pictured their surprise and joy at meeting, his notes were melting and pathetic, till, by degrees swelling high to triumphant strains of joy, he was joined by numerous other minstrels of scarcely less note, who had followed him to the scene. a band of maidens then, taking the word from the bard, advanced, and surrounding the group with their wreaths of flowers, joining their sweet, rich voices to the melody as the cadence rose and fell with the subject. then the bard changed his theme to the rescue of the polish stranger; and as he sang, all eyes were turned towards thaddeus; and as ina caught his gaze drinking in with enraptured delight the beauty of her form and features, she cast her look on the ground, blushing she knew not why; while he, the brave soldier, seemed seized with the same bashful feeling. the bard had ceased his strains when a party of musicians struck up light and cheerful airs, and some of the youthful mountaineers, in spite of the fatigue of the fight and march, led forth the village maidens, nothing loath, to the dance; the nobles looked on to applaud, until messengers arrived from the house of the tocav to say that a banquet was prepared to welcome the warriors. our hero, whom we must in future designate by his true name of selem gherrei, now took the hand of thaddeus. "my sweet sister," he said, "i will lose no time in making known to you one, who has been my friend under various circumstances, and will, i trust, always continue so." "my brother's friend is welcome to me," she answered in turkish, a language thaddeus was also slightly acquainted with. "but i cannot perform the courtesies you have been accustomed to in frangistan. i have but few words to express my feelings in the tongue in which i now speak." "think not so meanly of yourself, ina," said selem. "my friend is one of those noble poles, whose country you have doubtless heard the russians have treated as they would ours; and yet he hesitates to draw his sword against such foes. but i must leave him to your soft persuasions to supply him with excuses for joining us." "i fear that i could scarce disobey your wishes, sweet lady," said thaddeus; "then pray do not bid me act against my conscience." "i would not do as you fear," answered ina. "but among the sons of the atteghei the claims of friendship are paramount to every other. surely you would not quit my brother's side in the battle-field. his foes should be your foes, and his friends your friends." "cease, lady, cease," exclaimed thaddeus earnestly; "or you will gain too quick a victory. the sweet tones of your voice alone are too eloquent to be withstood." "silence, my friend," interrupted selem, in russian smiling. "you bring, indeed, the courtly style of st. petersburg with you, when you commence by paying compliments. i must assert a brother's privilege to stop such language, or you may turn my gentle sister's head. remember that she is unaccustomed to phrases of flattery." "her looks bespeak her to be far too sensible to be influenced by terms of compliment," answered thaddeus. "there breathes no woman of any clime, and but few of the nobler sex even, who are uninfluenced by flattery," returned selem. then speaking again in his own language, "pardon me, my sister, for speaking in a language you understand not. i was but scolding my friend for paying the empty compliments which the fair ones of the cities of frangistan receive as of sterling value." "your friend, my brother, would not surely use phrases unbecoming a mountain girl to hear. he looks too wise, too good," said ina, blushing as she spoke. another messenger now approached to summon the hero of the day, the young circassian chief, and his polish friend, to the feast, where the other chieftains were waiting their arrival. great however was the disappointment of both, when they found that the chief ornaments would be wanting; for though the most chivalrous devotion is paid to the fair sex, such is the custom of the country, that no woman may be present at the festive board, except on private occasions when in attendance on their lords. most unwillingly, therefore, selem was obliged to part from his newly-found beautiful sister, and many an enraptured glance did the young pole cast towards her as she retired with her women and the daughters of the host; while the two friends followed the gallant chief, arslan gherrei (his heart beating with happiness at the restoration of his son), as he led the way to the scene of festivity. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ end of volume two. volume , chapter i. a romantic and chivalrous scene was presented to the eye, as a cavalcade of warriors wound their way along the richly clad mountains of ghelendjik. the fresh dews of the night still moistened the green herbage; the crystal drops sprinkling the grass, shone in the early sun-beams like the precious diamonds of golconda; while the air which played round their heads, came laden with the fragrance of the mountain herbs and sweet scented flowers. the pure and elastic atmosphere seemed to sparkle with life and light: all nature, rejoicing in the bright new-born day, breathed an air of contentment and happiness; how sadly belied by the scenes of devastation and misery the country was doomed to suffer! the chiefs were clad in rich and polished armour; their spear-points and swords glittering in the sun-beams, and their gay banners fluttering in the breeze. at their head, on his noble black charger, rode arslan gherrei and the gallant hadji guz beg, followed by many chiefs of note and consequence. in the centre came ina, more fresh and lovely than the bright morn itself, followed by her damsels, and tended with the utmost care; on one side, by her brother selem, who guided her palfrey over the uneven ground, while thaddeus guarded her on the other, as she listened earnestly to the description of his own loved land, comparing it to the one in which he now was destined to live. every now and then she would turn her eyes from her brother, stealing a glance at him, which was as quickly withdrawn. young alp beg, and other gallant youths, dressed in their gayest attire, on high mettled steeds, curvetted in every direction, in hopes of catching a glance from her bright eyes, or of hearing the sweet tones of her voice. close to them followed the young page conrin, and, though rejoicing in his master's happiness, every now and then a deep shade of melancholy would steal across his features; nor would he, on these occasions, listen to the words of consolation which javis vainly endeavoured to offer. the squires of the knights, their pages, and other attendants followed, bringing up the cortege. as they rode on, they were shrouded by the thick autumnal-tinted foliage of the lofty trees; and the mountain's side, covered with flowering heaths, when trampled on by their horses' hoofs, gave out a sweet odour. in the vale below, flowed a blue sparkling stream, between rich pastures, bounded by sloping banks; while on the opposite side, rose jagged and fantastic cliffs, and in the extreme distance, a sea of azure-tinted and swelling hills. messengers had arrived on the previous evening from the warriors already encamped on the banks of the ubin, a rapid stream falling into the kouban; summoning the chiefs from all parts of circassia to meet them there without delay. some grand object was in contemplation, either to attack the russians before they should retire into their winter quarters, or to prevent them in their turn from making any inroad among their own mountain-homes. the hadji was all fire and eagerness to set forward, in the hopes of some engagement taking place; in which, under his guidance, his darling son might gain victorious laurels, he looked on the storming of the fort as an action of no note to try his mettle. arslan gherrei had also determined to proceed onward to the same destination, leaving ina--who was now fully able to undertake the journey--with the family of a noble kinsman, the chief of the demorghoi, the venerable prince aitek tcherei. their host, shamiz bey, with most of the warlike inhabitants of the neighbourhood, was compelled to remain to guard that part of the country threatened by the garrison of ghelendjik, it being considered a point of honour for every district to protect itself against the foe, except from an overwhelming force. a large body of horsemen were, however, collected, many chiefs having come to greet the renowned hadji on his return from his pilgrimage, to congratulate arslan gherrei on the recovery of his long lost son, and to welcome selem to his native land. their journey was like a triumphant procession. from every hamlet through which they passed, the inhabitants rushed out to congratulate the warriors on their victory; the fame of their exploit having already preceded them. the villagers made their admiring comments, not less on the dignified and noble arslan gherrei and his son, than on his lovely daughter; and the stranger pole was hailed as another champion added to their country's cause. the minstrels struck their harps to strains of triumph, joined by the voices of the maidens. the wild youths, galloping on before, fired off salvos from their rifles, which were answered by others from the hamlets discharging theirs in return, as they threw themselves on their ready-saddled steeds, and flew to join the festive cortege. the green banks, sloping down from the villages, were covered with old men, women, and children, joining their voices to the general shout which welcomed the party, wherever they appeared. the hadji's name sounding above all. sometimes the cavalcade would halt to salute some aged chieftain, unable longer to join in the hardships of war, who had caused himself to be carried out to meet them, and to hear from their own mouths, an account of their late exploit. the eye of the now decrepit warrior would kindle, and his cheek burn with enthusiasm, as he listened to the tale; or his voice would tremble, and a tear of regret roll down his furrowed cheek, that he was no longer capable of participating in the glories and dangers of war. so often had they to stop, and so many questions had they to answer, that it was late in the day before they could reach their resting-place for the night; and happy was the chief, whom they had chosen as their tocav, to receive such distinguished guests. their route on the next day's journey, lay along the base of the far-extended line of the black mountains; when towering high above his brethren, appeared the lofty elborous, dark, rugged, and precipitous. the cavalcade traversed a savage glen, overhung by beetling cliffs, seeming ready to fall on their heads. the light was subdued and gloomy; and the air was moist and heavy from the water which trickled down over the moss-covered rocks. an oppressive feeling overcame all the party--a foreboding of coming evil. dangers in unknown shapes seemed to threaten them. even the hadji's joyful tone was quelled; a chill fell on his spirits. he cast a fond and anxious glance at his son alp, as, for a moment, the dangers to which he was about to expose him, crossed his mind. "why are you so silent, my sister?" said selem, as he rode by ina's side; "why does that shade of sadness steal over a face, but now so bright with smiles?" "i scarce know, selem, why i am sad," returned the fair girl; "but i thought of the dangers our noble father is constantly exposed to; that you, my newly found brother, may again be torn from me; that you must live a life of constant hardship and warfare. i thought of the miseries of our country--our homes and fields burned, our fathers and brothers slain, and that allah should have created men wicked enough to do these things. tell me, my brother, why do the urus attack our country? why do they try to possess themselves of our humble cots and rocky mountains, when they have abundance of land covered with mighty cities?" "the lust of power, of conquest, such as you can have no conception of," replied selem. "they care little to possess our mountain-homes, and nothing for the noble hearts, whose blood they spill. what, to their deaf ears, are the cries of the orphan, the moans of the bereaved widow? there are rich and fair lands beyond our's, in which they would set their grasp, could they reach them, to add to their already vast territories, peopled by slaves. but they fear to advance, leaving behind them one spot of unconquered ground, such as our own land, lest we might impede them on their return home, laden with booty. we are like a castle in a plain, overrun with marauders, which, as long as provisions last, may withstand a host of such foes; so shall we, as long as true and brave hearts beat in circassia. but now, ina, banish such sad thoughts; see, we have gained a bright and joyous scene." as selem spoke, they emerged from the dark ravine, into a broad and extensive valley; so broad, indeed, as almost to be called a plain. it was surrounded by mountains, rising gradually in slopes or bosomy swells, to form the sides of the vast amphitheatre. green pastures and corn fields, interspersed with clumps of fine trees, enriched its surface, which was further adorned by cottages, surrounded by orchards, farm-yards, paddocks, and granaries. "see, ina," exclaimed her brother, enthusiastically; "let not your spirits sink with forebodings, for we have passed in safety through that savage glen: and now what a lovely scene has opened to our view! so may it be with our country. we yet may see bright and glorious days shine on circassia, when freed from the dark wing of the russian eagle." the country through which they were passing, had the appearance of a magnificent park, or the estate of some rich noble of frangistan; the fields were separated by high well clipped hedge-rows, and irrigated by canals filled from a stream, meandering through the centre. the hill sides were covered with flocks of sheep; and fine cattle fed in the fertile pastures. leaving the valley, the cavalcade mounted the sides of one of the hills, by which it is entirely encompassed, traversing the summit of a narrow ridge, looking down on each side into a deep ravine. wherever the eye could reach, appeared a country impracticable to any foes, when guarded by even a handful of brave inhabitants. the cavalcade did not keep in the same order as described in the commencement of the journey; sometimes, the chieftain arslan gherrei would ride to his daughter's side, and address words of affection and encouragement to her; then he would enter into converse with his son, on subjects of deep interest and importance. but there was one who never left ina's side. each moment that thaddeus passed in her company, he became more and more enchained, without being conscious of it. as the mighty elborous appeared in view, with numerous other wild and rugged mountains at its base, "know you," said the hadji to selem, "that the brother of that traitor besin kaloret khan has his dwelling among yonder rugged mountains, though they prove not so wild and barren, as at this distance they appear? he is rich in flocks, herds and noble horses, and many fierce followers are at his beck. i think he will prove a dire foe to you and your's, if he discovers that his traitor brother fell by your hand; or worse still, by that of your youthful page. but, mashallah! fear him not. he knows himself in the wrong, and will dread to take vengeance." ina turned pale, as she heard this account. "does, indeed, that dreadful khan dwell so near us?" said she. "i always feared to look on him: he seems so fierce, so cruel, so unlike our father or you. oh, avoid him, for his presence can bring nothing but harm." "fear him not, fear him not, maiden," exclaimed the hadji. "what harm can he do? his followers cannot compete with us. till he washes out the stain of his brother's dishonour in the blood of our foes, he cannot again appear in the company of the chiefs of abasia." "i fear not for myself," answered ina; "but i fear him for the evil he may work to my father and brother: i know that to meet him in open fight they would have nought to dread; but he is subtle as well as fierce, and may seek secret means to injure them." "do not let such thoughts alarm you for our father or for me, dear ina," said her brother. "the khan could not harm us, if he wished." "mashallah! if he were as cunning as the fox," exclaimed the hadji, "we would rout him out of his den, should he attempt any revenge for that young traitor's just punishment." the travellers were now approaching the residence of the venerable prince aitek tcherei, the kinsman of arslan gherrei, with whom ina was to remain during his and her brother's absence. the whole party, also, were invited to sojourn there that day, ere they proceeded to the camp of the allied princes and chiefs on the ubin. the party were descending a hill bounding another beautiful and romantic vale, on the side of which stood the residence of the aged chief, and had just arrived in sight of a grove of lofty trees surrounding the house, when being perceived from the watch-tower in the neighbourhood, a band of gaily caparisoned youths on horseback, galloped out to meet the chiefs, uttering loud shouts of welcome, and firing off their rifles and pistols as they came on at full speed. halting at the moment they arrived abreast of the leaders of the party, they respectfully saluted them, exchanging greetings with their younger friends as they passed, and then joined the rear of the cortege. along avenue of fine trees led up to the gate of the house, where the aged prince, clothed in a long robe and turban, (the garb of peace), was standing to receive them, attended by his squire, armed more for state than protection, and by his dependants and household serfs, who hastened to take the horses of the chieftains, as they dismounted. folding arslan gherrei in his arms, "my noble kinsman," he said, "welcome are you to my home, for gladly do my old eyes once more look on you; and how did my heart beat with joy when i heard that you had recovered your long lost son. allah is great, who has shielded him from so many perils in the land of the giaour, to restore him once more to your bosom. is yonder noble youth he? worthy he seems to be a circassian chief. let me embrace him," he added, as selem, dismounting from his horse, advanced towards the old man. "come hither, my son, and let your father's oldest friend embrace you. ah! i see in his eye and bearing that he is worthy of you, uzden. and your other child? your daughter? come hither, ina; let my old eyes gaze on thee, too. my own zara will rejoice to see you. go to her, ina; she longs to embrace you, but she fears to quit her anderoon before so many strangers. ah! my gallant friend, hadji guz beg! rejoiced am i to see the lion of the atteghei returned from his pilgrimage, to spread terror among the hearts of the urus. and you, achmet beg, and you, alp, who will one day be a hero like your father; and you, chieftains, welcome all." thus he addressed them, as each chief advanced to pay his respects to the old man. "my heart," exclaimed he, "has not beat so joyfully since the cursed urus slew the last prop of my age, my only son. chieftains, i have ordered a banquet to be prepared to do honour to your coming, and it will soon be the hour for feasting." saying which, the venerable noble led the way to a grove of lofty trees in the neighbourhood of the house, under which a fresh green arbour had been erected by his retainers, forming a grateful shade from the yet burning rays of the sun. divans and carpets had been spread under the leafy bower, the front of which opened on a gentle slope, falling to, a green plot of turf, surrounded by groups of trees. thither the chiefs were ushered, and when all were seated, according to their rank, their venerable host took his place among them. many of the neighbouring nobles had assembled to do honour to the guests of their chief, their numerous attendants forming groups with the villagers and retainers of the host collected before the arbour. the dehli khans, or young men, amusing themselves in the mean time, in various athletic sports. troops of servants soon appeared hastening to the arbour, bearing tables laden with various dishes of richly dressed meats and fruits, which might well vie in taste with the sumptuous fare of less primitive countries. bowls of mead and boza were handed round to the guests; for even those professing the mahomedan faith did not hesitate to drink of the former delicious beverage, nor were spirits and wine wanting, to add to the conviviality of those whose scruples did not prevent their indulging in them. minstrels, also, came from far and near to add to the festivity of the occasion; for what feast would be complete without the masters of song? the aged hassein shahin, the famed bard of the atteghei, he who sang of a hundred fights, which he had himself witnessed, and in some of which he had been engaged, now turned his lyre to a high and martial strain. all voices were silent, every ear intent to catch his words which were as follows: from liberty's harp are the strains you now hear; men of atteghei rise at the call; hark! hark! to its sounds, for the foemen are near, it summons us warriors all to fight for the land of our ancestors' graves, who died that their children might never be slaves. the russ marches onward with chains in his hand, to bind our free arms will he try. his banner's dark eagle o'ershadows our land, but we've sworn or to conquer or die, for we fight o'er the sod of our ancestors' graves, whose valiant hearts ne'er would have yielded to slaves. 'tis poland's enslaver with foul bloody hand, remember her story of woe! her brave sons are captives, or fled their lov'd land, beware, or her fate we may know! let us swear on the earth of our forefathers' graves, that we ne'er will be conquered or yield to those slaves. remember we fight for our mountains so green, for our vales, for our streams' sparkling tide, for those fields which our father's for ages have been, and where, ever unconquer'd, they died. then let not their bones be disturbed in their graves, by the tread of a muscovite army of slaves. see the glorious banner of freedom unfurl'd. it waves o'er our lov'd native land. muster round it, and valiantly prove to the world, that _alone_ we are able to stand. as our fathers who lie in their warrior graves, fighting died, that their children might never be slaves. then curs'd be the traitors who yield to the foe, and curs'd be the cowards who fly! may they ne'er while they live, peace or happiness know, and hated, and scorn'd, may they die! in lands far away may they rot in their graves, and their children bear ever the foul mark of slaves! now sharpen our spears, well prove each tough bow, and the swords of our forefathers wield. don the armour so often they wore 'gainst the foe, seize each rifle and glittering shield, and their shadows yet hovering over their graves, will guard us from foes who would make us their slaves. then to arms, then to arms, and this harp shall proclaim the proud deeds that your valour has done; and the world shall resound with the praise of your name, to be handed from sire to son; and tell of the heroes who lie in their graves, who died that the atteghei ne'er should be slaves. the warriors grasped their swords, their eyes kindled, their breasts heaved at the minstrel's tones, the effect was such as would be difficult to understand from the above meagre translation, without the accompaniment of the bard's rich and animated voice, and the high loud tones of his instrument. several other baras succeeded, taking various themes for their song. when describing the heroic deeds of their warriors, their tones were lofty and inspiring. when singing of their untimely deaths, cut off by the foe, their voices would sink to a low and plaintive wail. when picturing the beauty of some maiden more lovely still than her companions, the air would be soft, sweet, and melting. when the banquet was concluded, the gallant hadji and his brother, achmet beg, rose to depart, for their home was at no great distance, and the hadji's wife was anxiously expecting the return of her lord, though the old warrior dreamed not of giving himself a day's rest, but had engaged to be ready on the following morning, to accompany the other chiefs to the banks of the ubin. when search was made for young alp, he was nowhere to be found, for he had early stolen from the feast. "your gallant son has been a constant visitor here, of late," said the venerable host to the hadji. "the youth loves to listen to my tales of our wars with the urus. he will follow closely in your steps, noble hadji, and i love him much. i know not if it is so; but i sometimes think he casts an eye of affection towards my zara; and if it please you, my friend, he may have her." "it is no time for the youth to take to himself a wife, when his thoughts ought to be alone of war," answered the hadji; "but mashallah! he would be happy to possess so sweet a partner." the aged chieftain's suspicion was correct, for alp was at last discovered, coming from the direction of the anderoon; and he set off with his father to their home. the next morning a large band of warriors, amounting almost to a small army, assembled in the valley, prepared to set off for the camp on the ubin. headed by the aged chief, they repaired to a sacred grove in the neighbourhood, in which stood an ancient stone cross, a relic of the former religion of the country, round which the chieftains and their followers knelt, while supplications were addressed to the one all-powerful being, to aid their arms in driving the urus from their country. each warrior bore a chaplet in his hand, which he hung up as a votive offering to the divinity--a heathen custom handed down from the remotest times. this ceremony being performed, the chiefs mounted their war-steeds, and commenced their journey; the aged chief raising his hands towards heaven, bestowing blessings on them as they passed. selem had much difficulty in compelling young conrin to remain behind; but at last he succeeded in drawing a reluctant promise from the boy that he would not quit the valley without permission, but would remain as the page of ina, and obey her behests. he did not attempt to persuade thaddeus to accompany him, and the young pole had found attractions, stronger even than those of friendship, to detain him in the valley. it would also have been against the usual custom to allow one, who had so lately quitted the enemy, to appear in arms on the side of the patriots; a degree of suspicion existing among the chiefs against all strangers, until their fidelity to the cause had been proved. he therefore remained, with karl as his attendant--a life the honest serf seemed wonderfully to enjoy. volume , chapter ii. deep was the grief of ina when she saw her beloved father and brother depart for the scene of conflict, nor could her heart refrain from sad forebodings when she thought of the dangers to which they must be exposed. too often had she been witness to the misery and heart-rending wailing of her countrywomen, when anxiously expecting a father, a husband, or a brother, as they met in lieu the mangled remains of the loved one brought home on a bloody bier by his comrades. such grief she herself had never known; but she felt too clearly that horrors like those might be in store, too, for her; nor could the fierce blast of war, which raged round the land, steel her heart. zara did all in her power to tranquillise and cheer her friend under her affliction; but too well could she also enter into and share her fears, for she had seen her gallant father brought home stiff and cold on his shield, slaughtered by the foe in repelling an inroad into his country. that father was the last prop of her grandsire's declining years; and hopelessly for him had the old man mourned, for he had now no warrior descendant to succeed to his name and possessions, and none to guard his child from danger. at his death the disposal of zara in marriage would devolve on the eldest of his tribe, and they would not inquire if her heart could be given with her person. her destiny, therefore, might be a cruel one. a new chief would be chosen to lead the clan to battle, and, in peace, to preside at their councils, and poor zara might be neglected. such was the fair girl's account of herself; and thus the two friends, by pouring their griefs into each other's bosom, found mutual consolation. she confessed, indeed, that there was one whom she hoped might win her, and whom she thought loved her; but he had no wealth, and as yet had little renown in arms. yet she whispered to her friend's ear, that she fondly loved the gallant young alp, though she had enjoyed but few opportunities of meeting him. the aged prince, aitek tcherei, having warmly embraced the tenets of mahomet, the two maidens were more strictly secluded than ina had been accustomed to; the old ana, or nurse, who presided over the domestic arrangements of the anderoon, keeping a constant and vigilant watch upon them. though the custom of the country would not allow of their being limited to the same strict seclusion as in a turkish harem, the nurse was, nevertheless, horrified at the idea of ina's appealing in public without her face being entirely shrouded by a thick veil, nor did she at all approve of her propensity to ramble through the groves, or amid the shadowy cliffs. the old kahija's ideas of female happiness did not extend beyond the acquisition of a new veil or robe, or, more than all, the enjoyment of a gossip. what pleasure could the girls find in scrambling over the dirty mountains and damp grass? or why should they dance or sing, except to please their lords and masters, when other persons are paid to dance and sing to them? her parents had sold her, when young and promising great beauty, to a turkish slave-merchant; and it was with unalloyed pleasure, in anticipation of the novelty and magnificence of the great stamboul, that she leaped on board the vessel which was to convey her from her friends and country. at first she herself felt the irksomeness of constraint; but soon became reconciled to her self-chosen lot, and learned to approve of all the regulations of the harem to which she was consigned. her notions, therefore, on her return, at the death of her master, to her own country, were much scandalised at the freedom and what she considered the levity of her young countrywomen; and she loved to expatiate on the superior manners and customs of the fair captives in the seclusions of stamboul. like other dames, who find that their charms can no longer captivate, her temper at times became rather cross and crabbed, though she always tried to treat her young motherless charge with kindness. such was the old ana, kahija, who, wrapped in her feridji, now entered the anderoon to interrupt with her gossip the conversation of the two maidens. she delighted in gossiping--what old nurse does not? particularly a turkish one. she now came out of breath, with her exertion of walking from a neighbouring cottage, to say with great eagerness, that the chief shepherd had just come in from the distant mountains, where he had seen the dark mountain khan, khoros kaloret, whose brother had turned traitor, and been killed by the young chief selem, galloping by with a long train of savage followers, who were riding furiously in the direction of the ubin. "oh, allah, grant that he meet not my father or selem there!" exclaimed ina, in accents of terror. "i know not what may happen, child," said the old nurse. "they say he is a fierce chief. i hear, too, that he sought your hand. mashallah! but you might have been proud to wed so rich a khan; and yet, bosh! what is he even to a merchant of stamboul?" "why could you not love him?" asked zara; "they say he is of gallant appearance." "ah, zara! love him? you know not what love is, to ask such a question. love him! no! i could only fear him, he looks so stern and fierce; so unlike the calm and grave features of my father," said ina. "what is all this stuff the girls are talking about love?" chimed in the old nurse. "bosh! what nonsense is this? love! what is love? it is nothing; it is worse than nothing; it is folly--it is bosh! what should maidens know about love? let them be married, and then it is time to love their lords and masters." ina and zara were in despair; for it was hopeless to carry on any interesting conversation on their own feelings, with the constant observations and interruptions of old kahija; who could be very entertaining at times, when she had the whole of the conversation to herself, with her wonderful stories about turkey and stamboul. they were relieved, however, from the dulness their constrained silence threw over them, by the entrance of conrin, with a small packet from his master to ina. we have said that arslan gherrei had been educated in turkey, and held a high post in the army of the sultan, where he acquired many accomplishments very unusual to the generality of his countrymen. in the calm retreat of his daughter's anderoon, when no strangers were by to witness his occupation, he had endeavoured to cultivate her youthful mind by the aid of the few books he had brought with him; and he had taught her not only to speak, but to read and write turkish, accomplishments possessed probably by no other maiden in circassia; for few were blessed with fathers equally heroic in war, and capable of enjoying the blessings of peace. zara, ignorant of her friend's accomplishments, looked with mute surprise when ina, taking the note from the page's hand, hastily broke the thread which tied it, and read an account of the safety of her father and brother, as far as they had as yet proceeded in their warlike operations. the page was equally eager. "tell me, lady, tell me is my dear master in safety?" he said. "yes he is. allah be praised! he and my father are well; and he tells me not to forget my care of you, conrin." "heaven be praised that he is safe. that he remembers me, brings joy to my heart!" exclaimed the youth, clasping his hands. the venerable prince was kind and courteous in the extreme to his polish guest; yet thaddeus found, to his great disappointment, that the anderoon was, to him, forbidden ground; and instead of the constant communication he had delighted in the prospect of enjoying with ina, he could never approach her, except to offer a few words of courtesy when she was taking the air. those short sentences were understood by kahija, who was scandalised that the young lady should be addressed, even in the ordinary terms of greeting; and more so on perceiving that ina tolerated them. all his attempts at any further conversation were fruitless, owing to the constant vigilance of the old woman; and ina's native modesty forbade her making any advances herself, however she might have received them on his part. at last he bethought him of gaining the confidence of young conrin; but the boy constantly avoided him, though he would now and then stop to listen if he began to speak of his master, and to make any observations in his praise. he thus felt the time hang heavily daring the absence of his friend; for he had few to converse with, except the old prince, who spoke turkish, and some of the polish prisoners, or rather deserters, from the russian army; his only satisfaction being the occasional glimpses he caught of ina, and the delight of hearing the musical tones of her voice as she returned his salutations. his great resource was the chase. with a light rifle in his hand, and attended by karl and his former polish servant, who enjoyed their life of freedom and independence, so different from the abject servitude to which they had hitherto been accustomed, he roamed the woods and mountains. in these excursions he was also accompanied by several of the youths of the valley, too young to go to war, who guided his steps along the precipices, and shewed him where same abounded. at other times he would mount a steed, appropriated to his use, galloping along the green valleys, and up the mountain's sides, and vieing with the young mountaineers in their equestrian exercises, till he became as expert a horseman as they. he would often, with his rifle, bring down a bird on the wing which they could not hit; thus winning their hearts by his proficiency in what they most admired. he, however, began to regret not having accompanied his friend to the camp; and accused himself of want of friendship towards him. we have said that ina longed to breathe the free air of the mountains, unrestrained in her liberty by the slow-moving steps of old kahija. though she could not persuade the timid zara to accompany her, she frequently asserted her independence by sallying forth attended only by her page. on her return, she listened, with composure, to the severe lectures she received for these transgressions of decorum; and still determined to renew them at every opportunity. how delighted she felt as, bounding like a young fawn, whose fleetness she rivalled, she flew through the shady groves. then she would climb the mountain's brow, inhaling the fresh pure air, and almost forgetting, as she gazed over the fair land of mountain, vale, and stream, the miseries which threatened it. towards the end of one lovely day, she left the confines of the anderoon, attended by her page, who had now learned to love her, not more from his affection for her brother than for her own endearing qualities; looking around from the open wicket and seeing none to impede her progress, she took her way through the grove towards a valley she had long wished to explore, at some distance from the house. it was a lovely place, originally formed from a fissure in the mountains, increased by the constant wear of winter floods. under the summer heat, the torrent had dwindled into a tiny and clear rivulet, in one part leaping in a bright cascade, then flowing in a gentle current, and next rushing over a ledge of rocks, and falling into the larger valley, where it expanded into a tiny lake. the lady and her attendant walked on by its side over the soft velvet herbage which the receding waters had left, and began to climb the rocky sides of the glen, the summits of which were now blooming with various sweet scented shrubs and herbs. a soft and mellow sky cast a soothing influence over the scene, and the air was laden with fragrant odours. thoughtless of the difficulties they had passed, and fearless of the steep and rocky paths, they clambered on, leaping lightly from ledge to ledge, and holding by the shrubs and plants to aid their steps, till at length they reached a platform, where they rested to view the broad and beautiful valley into which the little ravine opened. below them was the smiling village amid its groves of stately trees, its farm-yards, granaries, orchards, and cattle-pens. at a little distance, at the side of the stream, was the rustic and unpretending mosque, from the platform of whose primitive minaret the muezzin was calling all true believers to the evening prayer. here were shepherds driving their flocks from the mountain's side to their pens, to shelter them from the wild beasts. the kine were lowing on their way to their sheds, while the village maidens carolled gaily as they milked their cows. the birds were singing from every rock and spray; and all living nature seemed calm and contented-- the page roused ina from her contemplation of the scene. "lady," said he, "we ought ere this to have sought our homeward way: the path is steep and difficult, and the shades of evening will overtake us, ere we can reach the valley." "fear not, conrin. there are no dangers we need dread," returned ina. "old kahija's scolding is the worst that can happen to us. we mountain maids are sure of foot, and fearless as you seem, on the edge of the steepest precipice. but, as you say, it is full time we should return home; for, as it is, we shall be missed from the anderoon, and old kahija will think that we have fled for ever from her grave rule." but as they looked round, doubtful on what part of the steep cliff to begin their descent, they found that to return was not so easy an achievement as ina had pronounced it to be; for so many turnings had they taken, that they could not discover the path by which they had attained the spot where they stood. it was difficult to say how they could have reached their present position, as in vain they searched for the path. at length, conrin hazarded a spring to a lower ledge, from which it appeared that practicable footing was to be found, when he was startled by a scream from above; and, gazing upward, he beheld the lady ina in the grasp of a ferocious, wild-looking man, who was endeavouring to drag her up the steep cliff, while she resisted with all her power, calling her page to her assistance. conrin fruitlessly attempted to reach the upper ledge, for the slender shrubs and herbage gave way in his hands as he clutched them. trembling with agitation, he fell back to the spot from which he was strenuously trying to climb. the man's appearance was, in truth, ferocious. of gigantic height, his face was almost covered with tangled dark locks hanging down from his head, on which he wore a cap of undyed brown and white goat-skin, the long hair of which, falling in front over his neck, added to the wildness of his features. his body was clothed in a tunic of the same material, and a long black cloak of goat's hair fell from his shoulders. rough sandals of bark were on his feet, fastened to his ankles by thongs of leather. at his back hung a bow and quiver, and in one hand he grasped a thick spear or club and a round black shield of bull's hide; while in the other he held the slender form of ina. "set me at freedom! how dare you thus insult me?" she cried. "i would seek my way homeward." "not so, fair maiden," answered the man with rough harsh tones, in a strange dialect, though ina could comprehend it sufficiently to understand the tenor of his words. "not so; you are a prize of too much value to be allowed to escape so easily." "begone, barbarian, and loose your hold," cried ina, though fearful and trembling in his rude grasp, yet retaining her native dignity. "think you to escape the vengeance of my tribe, if you should wrong me?" "vengeance! say you?" exclaimed the man scornfully. "think you i fear the vengeance of any?" "you will have cause to fear it, if you do not release me," she answered. "know you not what chieftain's child i am?" "i know full well," said the savage. "you are the daughter of the chief who wronged my master; who slew my master's brother; and you are the timid maid who would not be his bride. but now you'll not again refuse to obey his will." "i know not of whom you speak," cried ina. "my father never slew a chief of atteghei." "i know your father well," answered the ruffian. "he is the chieftain arslan gherrei, and you refused to be the bride of the brave khan, my master, khoros kaloret." "your master kaloret khan?" cried ina, still more terrified than before, at the sound of that name. "yet he would never dare to rob a noble uzden of his daughter. release me, ruffian!" "my master fears not any chief of atteghei," answered the man, fiercely. "i'll waste no more speech; so cease your cries, and come willingly. my noble master waits your coming." ina shrieked with fear. "oh, allah, protect me!" she cried, as the savage endeavoured to drag her away. "barbarian, release me, i pray you, let me go." "no, no, girl, your prayers are useless," answered the man. "let my master hear them. on me, they are thrown away." "haste, haste, conrin," she cried, in turkish; "fly to our home. send messengers to selem, to my father, and rouse the villagers." as the barbarian saw the page hastening to obey, he said to ina: "stay that boy, till we are out of sight. if he moves hence, i'll send an arrow through his breast." conrin, who understood not his words--ina being too terrified to interpret them--was hurrying from rock to rock, fearless of the peril which a single false step might cause, or of the cruel death which threatened him; when the barbarian prepared to put his threat into execution. for an instant, he loosened his hold of ina, unslinging his bow from his back, and drawing a shaft to its head, with a hand which never missed its aim. in vain, ina shrieked to conrin to stop, and implored the monster to hold his hand. neither of them heard her voice. the last moment of the poor boy's life seemed to have arrived, as the arrow flew from the string; but ere the hand which drew it reached the ear, it was struck by a violent blow, and the shaft wavering in its aim, flew high above the page's head. the fierce mountaineer, taking a second arrow, turned to his aggressor, when he found his arm held by a powerful and firm grasp. ina shrieked with fear for her preserver's life--for in him she beheld the stranger thaddeus--as the follower of the khan attempted to seize his heavy spear, and to fell him to the ground. but the young pole, grappling with him, prevented his raising it high enough to strike. though thaddeus was strong and active, his fierce opponent was heavier and more powerful. releasing his arm with a sudden exertion, he sought his dagger in his girdle; but the pole throwing himself upon him with his whole force, the two combatants fell to the ground. "fear not for me, dearest ina," cried he; "save yourself. hasten down the cliffs, and fly homewards. i will hold this robber, until you are safe." ina scarcely heard his words, or, if she did, thought not of following his advice; but trembling for his life, she watched the combat, so as, if possible, to lend her aid. for an instant, thaddeus was uppermost; but endeavouring to grasp his opponent's throat, he was obliged to release one arm; when, drawing his dagger from his belt, the mountaineer, by a violent effort, threw himself round, grasping the fatal weapon in his hand, and bringing the unfortunate youth below him. he was about to stab the young pole, when another, though a feeble hand, directed its aim, and it struck deeply into the earth, in a cleft of the rock. thaddeus seized the dagger; when his opponent, with tremendous exertion, arose and attempted to hurl him over the cliff; but as the mountaineer approached the edge, his foot slipped. seizing the fortunate moment, and mustering all his strength, thaddeus struck the dagger deep into his breast. the huge barbarian fell heavily, still clasping thaddeus in his arms, who, nevertheless, forced him to the edge of the platform, when the body rolled over to a jutting craig, some feet below where they stood. recovering himself, thaddeus turned to ina, "lady," he said, "i owe my life to your courage: your timely aid saved me." "oh, no," she cried; "it was you who saved my life, and more than life, for which you bravely risked your own. allah be praised, who guarded yours, and brought you to my rescue! you also saved poor conrin's life. but let us not stay here. the comrades of the man may come and revenge his death on you. oh, let us hasten home." "i will bear you safely down these steep cliffs, lady," said thaddeus; "you are weak, and scarce able to walk from terror." lifting her gently (and ina thought not of resisting his offer), with firm and fearless steps, he sought a path amid the craigs; and as he bore her slight form in his arms, he felt her hand unconsciously press his. her bright beaming eyes betrayed the ardent gratitude, which her lips feared to utter. she looked anxiously into his face, to learn if he felt oppressed by fatigue; but there she read alone his love and pride, at having saved her; nor could she bring herself to entreat him to set her down, till they reached in safety the bottom of the glen. "i am stronger now, and will fatigue your arms no longer, noble sir," she said. thaddeus at last, unwillingly obeyed her repeated requests, though she still consented to lean on his arm, as he accompanied her homeward. "whence came that robber, who so terrified you?" asked thaddeus. "oh he was no robber," answered ina. "but a follower of the fierce khan, whose brother the young conrin slew and who seeks to wed me." "wed you, lady? can such as he be worthy of you?" exclaimed the young pole with enthusiasm. "i know not; but i never loved him," answered ina; "and now i doubly fear his vengeance for your sake. when he hears that you have slain his follower, he will not rest till he has had satisfaction for his blood. i would that you were safe beyond his reach!" "i do not dread any injury he can do me," cried thaddeus. "to have saved you from danger is so great a joy that i would die to gain it." ina felt her heart beat quickly as he spoke; for the tone of his voice said more even than the words themselves. it was a moment of delight--of pure bliss to both those young beings; notwithstanding the wildness of the scene, the danger they had passed through and which might be still pursuing them. they knew that they mutually loved. they attempted not to speak; for they felt that words would not adequately convey their love. they looked into each other's eyes, and there they read all each could wish to know. ina thought of her preserver, and the danger he was yet in; and, as she hastened through the glen, she cast many an anxious glance to see if any followed. she thought that she heard a footstep; it was but the rushing of the stream across a rock; she tried to increase her speed; again she turned with fear--it was but the echo of their tread among the cliffs. thaddeus endeavoured to tranquillise her alarms; and partially succeeded, by assuring her that he had himself descended the ravine, and had encountered no one. as they emerged from the narrow gorge, loud shouts saluted their ears, and they met a band of villagers led on by conrin, who, overcome by his exertions, sunk down at his mistress's feet on seeing she was safe. ina stooped over the poor boy with deep solicitude, endeavouring to unloose his vest; but he strenuously resisted her offers, declaring that he was fast recovering. the party, composed of old and young, armed with weapons, shouted loudly for joy when they saw ina in safety; she thanked them for their promptitude in coming to her rescue, and presented thaddeus as her preserver. the villagers complimented him on his bravery and success, as with shouts and songs, they followed her homeward. the aged chief had left his house to encourage the people in their pursuit of the ravisher; but, when he saw his young kinswoman in safety, he felt a strong inclination to scold her for wandering. as, however, she appeared overcome with fatigue, he forbore, and left her to the lectures he knew she would be certain to receive from the old kahija. thaddeus would not quit her side until he had conducted her to the gate of the anderoon, to commit her to the gentle care of zara who was anxiously awaiting her. volume , chapter iii. the circassian chieftains had chosen for the encampment of their irregular but numerous army, a picturesque spot, of which the beauty was much encreased by the wild and warlike bands now filling it. it was in a rich and verdant valley watered by the streams of the aphibs and the ubin. by the banks of the latter river the greater part of the tents were pitched beneath the lofty trees; some growing in clumps and others scattered over the meadows as in a highly cultivated park. the ground rose in gentle grassy undulations from the banks of the river, swelling into round hills covered with the richest verdure, on which fed numerous flocks and herds; while, further off, men, women, and children were employed in the agricultural labour of the fields, unimpeded by the presence of the warriors. in the far distance were seen the lofty pinnacles of the black mountains. each chief had selected some spot on which to pitch his tent, as his taste dictated, while their respective clansmen and followers were stationed around them. here some stalwart chief reposed on the turf in front of his tent, smoking the long chibouque, while looking at his followers engaged in every description of warlike exercise. some selected a mark on a tree, and, retreating to a distance, fixed their hatchets in it with unerring aim; others hurled the heavy javelin; some the light dart; while numbers, with their bows in hand, were taking sure aim at a greater distance. some, too, were practising wrestling and running. in one place, the sound of the smith's anvil and hammer was heard repairing fire-arms for the coming fight. in the river the young men were engaged in teaching their horses to swim across rivers so as to be ready for any sudden excursion into the enemy's country. here a troop of gallant young nobles, on their long-tailed swift steeds, were seen scouring along the valleys, and up the sides of the hills. the many coloured and richly-silvered trappings of their horses, and their own jewelled weapons and armour, shone brightly as they appeared amid the trees. it was, in truth, a brilliant, warlike, and exciting scene. the chiefs and nobles were dressed in their complete war array; some in superbly embossed and ornamented armour, of polished steel; others in beautifully wrought chain armour fitting closely to the body, and being pliable to every movement, shewed off their graceful figures to advantage. the lofty plumes of their helms towered far above the heads of their followers, as they moved through the crowd; their jewelled poniards (the insignia of their rank) were placed in girdles richly worked in gold; and all their other arms were also highly ornamented. some of the venerable elders appeared in turbans and long robes, the garb of peace; and a few nobles wore the simple and elegant tight-fitting coat, richly trimmed with silver lace, and embroidered belts to hold their arms. the army was composed of people of many different tribes and races from all parts of the caucasus, speaking various languages, having many different customs, with great variations in costume. first, in numbers and bravery, were the tribes of the atteghei, consisting of the abzeki, khapsoukhi, nothakhaitze, the demirghoi, and many others. bands of the disciplined lesghians had come from the far off plains bordering on the caspian, to war with the oppressors of their own country, with whom they there could not venture to compete. there were bands, also, of the nomadic tribes, the short broad-faced calmuck and the nogai tartars. many warriors, also, had come from georgia, mingrelia, and immeritia, which countries have succumbed to the russian power, but still bear her the most deadly hatred. some bands had descended from the wild alpine retreats of the snowy mountains, wild as the regions they inhabited or the beasts they rode, a small, uncouth, though hardy and active race. these were dark-visaged men, with projecting jaws, and black shaggy beards, mostly clothed in skins, with fur caps, and garments of the roughest materials. though addicted to roving and predatory habits, they were now animated with the common feeling of hatred to the urus. there were the tribes of the tubi and the ubick; who fought on foot, owing to the inaccessible nature of their mountain-homes, where no horse can find a safe footing, and none can venture but the nimble-footed inhabitants, and the active goats and chamois. they are mostly of gigantic height, with handsome countenances, but fierce in appearance even to wildness, which was not a little increased by their sheep skin turbans, the long white wool of which curled over their face and shoulders. they wore the tight-fitting tunic of the circassians, over which was thrown a black mantle of goat and sheep skin hair, platted together; while their sandals were formed of the bark of the linden tree. each man was armed with a hatchet and poniard in his belt, a light gun on his shoulder, while in his hand he carried a weighty and knotted club, furnished at the end with a long steel barb to assist him in crossing streams, or springing from cliff to cliff. it served also as a rest to his gun to take more deadly aim, and as a weapon in the chase, or in his hours of amusement as a toy, to hurl with fearful exactness at a mark. besides these, came another tribe of foot warriors, of ferocious appearance, from the upper regions of the black mountains, bearing large, black, round shields made of wood, strengthened with bands of iron or yew, covered with the hide of the buffalo. these people were armed chiefly with the primitive bow and arrow, with which they can take the most certain aim. there were also some of the fierce tartar tribes, the most deadly foes to russia, owing to her usurpation of their country. when driven as exiles and wanderers from their native land, they settled in the before uninhabited and almost inaccessible regions of the caucasian range. they also wore jackets of skins and fur turbans, adding to the natural ferocity of their countenances. their arms were broad curving scymitars, and long heavy greek guns, with pistols and hatchets stuck in their belts, and embroidered with silver. even europe furnished many warriors from ill-fated and ruined poland, who had found refuge and sympathy among the generous mountaineers, to try their swords against the hated moscov. among the infantry, the only bands which had any pretension to regular discipline were the lesghians, who manoeuvre in compact bodies on their own plains, though their style of fighting is not well adapted to the mountain warfare of the circassians. the followers of the princes and nobles of the atteghei were habited much alike, in the tight-fitting elegant tunic, without collar to confine the neck, which was left bare; large trowsers, ornamented girdles, embroidered slippers, or low boots of coloured leather, and the broad-crowned low cap, either of hair, or cloth, or leather, trimmed with fur. all had sabres by their sides and the cama in their belts; but many carried the bow and arrow without fire-arms. the greater number were provided with horses, which they had decked with all the ornaments they could collect. the elders and judges, who had repaired to the camp to give their advice and counsel, wore large white turbans and long vests, and might be seen sedately seated beneath the shade of wide spreading trees, in circles, holding grave debates, their white beards flowing over their breasts, and giving them a grave and venerable appearance. many of them, who had served in turkey, retained the costume of that country; adding to the picturesque variety of dress to be found among this congregation of brave warriors. no regular arrangement had been preserved in the formation of the camp; the different bands pitching their tents, or building their leafy shelters where they pleased. many of the warriors had been followed to the camp by their wives, to attend to their tents and to dress their food: their tall and graceful forms were dressed in flowing robes of varied tints, embroidered with gold and silver, and long white veils falling from their heads as they were seen gliding among the trees. the camp was unfortified; but though a short distance only from the russian posts, there was no chance of a surprise, as scouts and advanced parties were constantly watching their foes, who could not make the slightest movement without due notice being given. this was the principal camp of the abasians; but there were others under experienced leaders, along their frontiers towards anapa, watching the enemy's castles in that direction. such was the magnificent spectacle which greeted selem's eyes as, in company with his father and hadji guz beg, they descended from a mountain-ridge into the valley of the ubin, the refulgence of the evening sun throwing a lustre over the animated and exciting scene. as their squires discharged their rifles, numerous chiefs hastened forth from their tents, or from among the thickets and trees, mounting their chargers and galloping to meet their brothers in arms. while they rode on, others came from all directions, greeting with warm congratulations the arrival of the hadji and arslan gherrei; nor were the younger nobles less pleased to see young alp, who was a favourite with all. the chiefs cast inquiring looks at selem, and when arslan gherrei proudly introduced him as his son, relating his romantic history and recent exploits, loud shouts hailed him as a chief of circassia. his heart beat with pride at having acquired that glorious appellation, as his brother warriors came forward to grasp his hand in welcome. their followers assembled under a grove of lofty trees near the river; a few minutes only elapsed since their arrival at the spot, before their tents were erected and every arrangement made for their accommodation. selem then accompanied his father through the encampment, to learn the proceedings and intentions of the leaders. various plans of operations had been discussed; but, unfortunately, unanimity did not reign in their councils as to the best mode of proceeding.--the most sagacious were, however, for preventing the large russian army, which threatened them, from advancing into the interior, without expending their strength in minor exploits: but others were for making excursions into the country of the cossacks at unguarded posts, while the enemy were elsewhere engaged, and some were for at once storming the russian forts. selem saw with grief and pain the sad want of organisation in an army capable, if well directed, of driving back their foes to their own bleak steppes. but they were destitute of artillery and ammunition; and he saw too clearly that no great object could be attained beyond the strict defence of their native mountains. yet, without some object in view, that vast multitude, unaccustomed to any combined movement, would soon be weary of restraint, and might, in a few hours, melt away like snow before the rays of the sun, and return to their own homes. they required some chief of superior talents, whom all would acknowledge as their commander, to lead them to war; and they would then become invincible. this want their invaders well knew, and reckoned on accordingly. the next morning the sun rose with unclouded splendour over the beautiful valley of the ubin, cheering the hearts of the assembled warriors with an omen of success. it was the day appointed for a solemn ceremony to take place, namely, the administering an oath, which all the princes, nobles, and leaders of circassia had agreed to take, never to sheathe their swords, or make terms with the enemy, till he had retired from the neighbourhood of their country; and to sink in oblivion all ancient feuds and animosities among themselves. many chiefs had already bound themselves by this agreement; but the majority had hitherto kept aloof from taking the oath, as it not only forbade them ever making terms with their foes, but involved the necessity of restoring all property unjustly retained from their countrymen. contiguous to the camp was a quiet and sequestered dell, with green hills rising close around it, and filled by a grove of lofty and venerable trees: a spot looked upon as sacred from time immemorial. in an open glade, in the centre of the grove, stood the mouldering remains of a stone cross, near which, where the lofty trees threw their cool shadows, now assembled hundreds of noble warrior chiefs. one sentiment, one soul, animated the breasts of all--the most deadly hatred to their foes, and a determination to resist to the very last gasp. every one of the various tribes and bands, which composed the patriot army, here sent a representative to swear in their name, and to confer on measures for the general advantage. as the princes, nobles, and leaders arrived, they took their seats on the green turf, when, all being assembled, a chief arose from the circle, and advanced towards the centre. his white turban, his long robes, his hoary locks and flowing beard, bespoke his sacred character. in his hands he held a book, which he raised aloft, as he knelt before the cross, and offered up to the all-potent and all-omniscient being, whom every one present worshipped--whatever their other differences of creed might be--a prayer for the success of the sacred cause of liberty, and for the confusion of their tyrannical foes. every warrior, bowing his head, reverently responded "amen!" as the venerable sage ceased his prayer. still holding the book before him, he rose, and, with a voice, yet deep and sonorous, though at times trembling with age, he exclaimed:-- "noble warriors, chiefs of circassia--we have this day assembled for a great, for a righteous purpose. it is to bind ourselves, by a solemn compact, to exert all the energies of our souls and bodies to drive hence the fell invaders of our country. never to sheathe our swords while a foe to circassia exists near her borders; to sink all private feelings of animosity, and to offer the hand of love and fellowship to all who will join us in this sacred cause. i call on all present to come forward, and to swear on the sacred book i hold, to conquer or die for our country, and to shew the world, what a brave band of brothers, though few in numbers compared to the vast hordes of our opponents, can do for the cause of liberty." as he finished his address, one of the most influential of the princes of the atteghei advanced, and, reverently kneeling, kissed the book, and took the required oath. his example was followed by others, till the enthusiasm became general, and all rushed eagerly forward to sign the compact. as they took the oath, they formed in circles, grasping each other's hands, in token of their brotherhood. those who had never before met, except with their hands on the hilts of their swords, now joined them in the pressure of love and fellowship; and the ardent wish of all, was to be led at once against the common foe. many, who had arrived too late for the opening of the ceremony, hastened forward from all directions to swear eternal enmity to the russians. the aged judge again knelt, when all had subscribed the oath, to return thanks to heaven for the concord which reigned throughout the band of patriots; and, as the sacred ceremony concluded, loud shouts rent the air, from the vast concourse of warriors who covered the sides of the hills, and every woodland glade. had any russian spy been present, he might have warned his countrymen of the hopelessness of success, in their nefarious attempt to subjugate so resolute a people. volume , chapter iv. our hero and his friends had spent two days at the camp of the patriot army on the ubin, without devising any plan of operation, or without any movement taking place among the russians, when three horsemen were seen riding at headlong speed down the sides of the mountains, towards the camp. the energies of the horses seemed taxed beyond their power. one noble animal fell, throwing his rider stunned before him. the horse of the second came down with tremendous force, after giving three or four bounds, and making fruitless efforts to continue his course; but the third, not stopping to see what had become of his companions, rode furiously on to the camp, whence many chieftains and warriors rushed out to hear the news he brought. the messenger leaped from his steed as he came among them, the gallant beast trembling in every limb, and scarcely able to continue on his legs as he panted with exertion. "noble chieftains!" cried the messenger, "i bring you dire news from ghelendjik. three days ago, a numerous fleet of russian ships was seen to approach our coasts, from which a mighty army disembarked. it is hoped they will remain some days within their fort to rest from their voyage; but, after that, there can be no doubt they will advance to ravage the country, if a stronger force than is there collected, is not opposed to them. the men of ghelendjik will do their utmost to stop the invaders; but what can they hope to do against an overpowering force? our seraskier, therefore, sent us here with haste to summon some of his friends to join his army." among the foremost of the chiefs, who had hastened to meet the messenger, was the gallant hadji. "bismillah! not a moment is to be lost then," he cried, seizing his standard from before his tent, waving it aloft, and again plunging the staff into the ground. "i will hasten with joy to your chieftain's aid, and we will stop these urus on their march. gallant nobles and warriors, whoever among you will bear me company to the aid of our hard-pressed countrymen, let them assemble round this banner within three minutes, and we will away; for, perhaps, before this the russians may have begun their march. let those who will, follow." saying which, the brave old chief hastened to don his helmet, his squire leading forth his steed; and in less time than he had indicated, he was on horseback by the side of his banner. alp soon galloped up, followed by selem, who directly volunteered to accompany his venerable friend, after taking leave of his father, who was obliged to remain. before the time for starting had arrived, numerous warriors came up from all directions; the news, that an expedition was on foot, having flown like lightning through the camp; so that, within five minutes of the arrival of the messenger, several hundred horsemen had assembled, fully equipped, to follow the hadji. again seizing his standard, the hadji waved it aloft as a signal to march; when giving a loud shout, the band of warriors set off at a quick speed, many others promising to follow. the hadji led on his followers as fast as they could proceed without exhausting their horses, stopping only at night to rest for a few hours; and before sun-rise they were again in their saddles. their anxiety to hear some news of the enemy was extreme, for they were now approaching the neighbourhood of the russian fort; though it was impossible to say in what part of the country they might sally out to commit their depredations. they drew rein on the summit of a mountain, from which they obtained a far-off view of the sea, in the direction of ghelendjik, and of the intervening hills and valleys, from which, with their glasses, they could perceive wreaths of smoke curling upwards to the clear sky in every direction. alas! they told a sad tale of destruction going forward! as the hadji gazed with an anxious eye to discover the cause-- "curses on the fell giaour!" he exclaimed. "yonder flames and smoke are their hellish work! see how the burning cottages, and farms, and ripe corn fields of our countrymen, mark the course of our foes. see, they take the passes towards anapa. ha! we may yet be in time to stop them before they reach that castle. they will no doubt attempt the passage of the valley of the zemes; and there the brave seraskier manjour bey will be found in waiting for them. onward, my friends, we will see what these moscov are about." saying which, the whole party urged their horses down the dizzy mountain's side, crossing valleys, streams, rocks and hills, in their eagerness to arrive at the scene of action. it was nearly sun-set when they came within hearing of distant and straggling shots; and, surmounting a hill, they perceived in the broad valley below them, the vast russian force winding its way by the side of a clear stream, which protected one flank. the long and close columns advanced in regular and steady order; their colours waving above their heads, their bands playing animating and lively airs, and their artillery guarding their van and rear. trains of baggage and ammunition waggons were in the centre, furnished with all the "materiel" for war; while troops of cossacks scoured the fields on each side, to protect their flanks, and to guard them from a surprise. here and there might be seen hovering around them, parties of the patriot horsemen, every now and then charging the cossacks, grappling with their opponents, bearing them off, or cutting them down, ere the russians could point their howitzers at the assailants. a messenger now arrived who had been sent in search of the hadji's party from the seraskier, then commanding the main body of the circassians assembled to impede the russian's progress. he informed them that this chief had determined to hazard no engagement till the enemy had entered the valley of the zemes, which they would probably do on the following morning; calling in all stragglers to form an ambuscade, except a few scouts to watch the movements of the foe. the hadji and his party directly determined to obey the wishes of the general, as did most of the parties who had been engaged in harassing the enemy's advance; though a few still continued hovering on his flanks. the hadji and his followers, therefore, turned their horses' heads in the direction of the spot where their friends were assembled; riding over the summit of the hills, which bounded the valley, till they arrived at the edge of the lofty cliffs forming the sides of the pass or glen of the zemes. the seraskier manjour bey came forward to welcome the friends who had so opportunely arrived; and led them round to the places where he had posted his men, who were to sleep that night on their arms ready for any sudden movement of the enemy, should they attempt to pass through the gorge under cover of the night; the hadji placing his followers in other advantageous positions. behind every rock and bush, on every projecting craig where footing was to be found, were to be seen the athletic forms of the highland warriors, their rifles and bows ready for action, and their ears intent to catch the first notes of the russian horns in their advance. many also, in places to which they could lead their horses, were crouching down by the side of the well-trained animals, hidden by the thick brushwood and broken rocks. it was but a small body of mountaineers whom the hadji and selem found assembled; they were entirely destitute of artillery, and there was a scarcity of ammunition. they could, therefore, depend alone on their sharp broad swords to contend with the well-trained bands of europe supplied with all the "materiel" of war. the hadji was deeply disappointed when he discovered the hopelessness of entirely annihilating the russian army, as he at first expected; but he determined to gall them, as much as possible, in their march. here the brave patriot band continued the live-long night in eager expectation; not a word above a whisper being uttered to disturb the dead silence which reigned around. young alp remained by his father's side, as did selem, for they well knew that where the fight was thickest, there would the gallant old warrior be found. seated on the soft heather, on a bank rising but a little way above the bottom of the glen, they passed the night, listening to his long tales of war, and his adventures. our hero, unaccustomed as yet to the night watch, and the bivouac, was worked up to the highest pitch of excitement and expectation; the night seemed interminably protracted; but to the other hardy warriors it was an affair of constant occurrence, though they were, perhaps, no less eager for the issue of the approaching combat, which might be of such vital importance to the liberty of the province of khapsoukhi. at length, as reclined on the turf, he gazed up into the pure calm sky, dotted with myriads of stars, they seemed to grow fainter and fainter, until he could scarcely distinguish them, amid the blue void. he sprung to his feet; not a sound was heard; the first faint streaks of dawn appeared in the east, yet no one moved from the leafy shelter. the sun rose, a vast globe of living fire, glowing as if in anger at the scene of blood on which his beams were so soon to shine; now throwing a glowing red flame on the dew-besprinkled trees above their heads, soon to be followed by one of still deeper hue. so calm and quiet was the scene, that a traveller might have passed through the glen, unconscious that he was surrounded by hundreds of warriors and their steeds. all were on the tiptoe of expectation; for every moment might bring up the russian army; when the interest was increased tenfold as the scouts, breaking through the brushwood, spurred their horses up the sides of the glen. "the urus are advancing! the urus are advancing!" they cried, as they passed to make their report to the seraskier, and to take their station within the shelter of the thickets. all things wore again the silence of the grave; then the cheering sounds of drums and fifes came faintly on the breeze, through the windings of the valley; next, the firm tread of the approaching host might be heard; and then appeared the advance guard of the russian army. onward they came, regardless of danger. each of the highland warriors held his breath with eagerness, and more firmly grasped his sword to spring forward on the foe; or kept his finger on the lock of his rifle, or drew his arrow to his ear, prepared for the word of command to commence the work of death. not a leaf moved, not a whisper was heard, when the advancing column of the russian force appeared in sight. the leading file came directly below the ambuscade. at this moment, a terrific cry arose from the sides of the glen, reverberating from rock to rock, from craig to craig, down the whole extent of the savage pass. "come, my sons, now is the moment; we'll up and be at them. follow, those who will. wa allah! allah! allah!" cried the gallant hadji, springing to his horse. his example was followed by alp, selem, and about twenty other warriors, who drew their scymitars as they rushed from the leafy cover; shrieking, rather than shouting their war cry, and dashing among the foremost ranks of the russians, giving them not a moment to defend themselves. it is necessary to go back a little in our narrative, and explain the cause of this sudden incursion on the part of the russians. when the brig of war returned to ghelendjik, bringing the remnant of the garrison, and an account of the loss of the fort, the rage of baron galetzoff knew no bounds; especially when he heard that our hero had been one of the most daring leaders, and that lieutenant stanisloff had escaped. again, and again, he renewed his vows of wreaking vengeance on the circassians, and expressed his determination to capture the two friends at all hazards. count erintoff confessed that he had, at first, the intention of putting the baron's warrant into execution himself, and dispatching thaddeus in prison, with his own hands; but the surprise of the mountaineers had been so sudden, that he had barely time to escape with his life. some time after these events, a fleet arrived with fresh troops to garrison ghelendjik; and the baron received orders from the general-in-chief to proceed with a large body of troops by land, to anapa, through the defiles of the zemes, from thence to take up his position, and erect a new fort near the kouban, at no great distance from the spot where the ubin falls into that river. the baron marched out of the fort with four or five thousand men under his command, well supplied with all the munitions of war, and was allowed to proceed unmolested through the broader valleys, where his cannon had range enough to play, leaving, as he advanced through the smiling vales, dotted with hamlets, and spread with verdant fields, a long track of ruin and desolation behind him. so suddenly, indeed, had the russian army sallied out, that the inhabitants had scarce time to drive off their flocks and herds, and remove their valuables, as from a distance they mournfully beheld, but with a keen hope of vengeance, their habitations wantonly committed to the flames. the russians continued to advance through the open valleys, and through the first part of the defiles of the zemes, without meeting a foe; the country throughout appealing to be some land of enchantment, so calm and beautiful did it look. they began to congratulate themselves on having awed the natives into peace, and on the hope of being allowed to perform their march without molestation. towards the evening, indeed, a few circassians appeared, attacking their flanks, at intervals, like hornets on some huge animal, and flying off, before there was time to send any of their own cavalry to pursue them. the general had ordered the cossacks to scour the sides of the hills, to prevent the main body from being taken by surprise--a most hazardous service; for, one by one, those who took the outer range disappeared, and their comrades, who went in search of them, shared the same fate; but there was no time to make inquiries. that night the army slept on their arms; before the sun arose on the following morning, they were again on their march. they advanced cautiously through many serpentine windings of a deep gorge; at their feet rushed the surge of a mountain torrent, in whose bright waters the soldiers eagerly slaked their thirst. not a foe had been seen as onward they marched, the cool morning air refreshing their cheeks, and a deep and solemn silence reigning through the glen. in a moment that scene of quiet and repose was changed into one of carnage and confusion. the foremost ranks fell back, trembling at the sound of the war shout of the mountaineers, as from behind every craig, shrub, and tree, a destructive shower of bullets and arrows fell thick among them. at that instant, a troop of fierce horsemen leaped from amid the rocks, hewing down all who crossed their path; and, ere the cannon could be brought to bear, vanishing on the opposite side. it was the daring band of guz beg. "ya allah! well done, my sons!" cried the veteran. "my brave alp, you will not disgrace your father. you cut down those vile urus as a mower cuts corn with his sickle. ask what you will of me, my son, and it shall be granted for that one charge. what say you, my friends, shall we be at them again?" saying which, before there was time to think of the great danger they ran, the hadji's band were once more upon the amazed and confused ranks of the foe, scarce recovered from their first panic. they were not this time so fortunate; one of their number fell by the fire which the russians now opened upon them; and selem was nearly suffering the same fate, for, as he swept by, he perceived the count erintoff in the advance, who spurred on his horse to meet him; but too many men intervened for them to exchange blows; and selem was obliged to follow his friends, being the last circassian horseman who reached the covert of the wood. "that will do for the present," said the hadji. "but, mashallah! i should like to be among them again. a few charges like that would annihilate their army." selem, however, urged him not to attempt the manoeuvre, which involved too great a risk, without advantage, to his valuable life. however, the hadji and selem were every where to be seen dashing at the foe, then galloping up the steep sides of the glen. the russians, stunned with the terrific cries knew not which way to turn. where they least expected an attack, they found themselves grappled by the active mountaineers, who seemed to leap from the cliffs above their heads, dealing death around them with their sharp broad daggers, then rapidly disappearing among the rocks, leaping from craig to craig, where none could follow. hundreds were shot down by the silent arrows of their invisible foe; nor, as they gazed with fear around, could they tell whence the shafts proceeded. the soldiers saw their comrades next to them sink down, struck by those winged messengers of death. their ranks were thinning fast, nor could they defend themselves, nor attack their aggressors; but in these trying moments, the stern discipline, even of slaves, triumphed over their fears, and rescued them from the hands of the most daring and courageous warriors. the officers shewed courage worthy of a nobler and better cause: exerting themselves to the utmost, with calm voices, keeping up the men's spirits, closing their ranks, and leading them on in order. but could it have been real courage which enabled the men to endure this terrific storm? it was rather a dull and heartless apathy. they saw their fellows fall; and knew that they were released from a life of privation and tyrannical suffering; and cared not if it should be their fate to be the next victims. it mattered but little whether death should come by famine, the sword, or by pestilence; too certainly would they fall by one or the other. the army, with thinned ranks, continued to advance, protected, as they defiled into more open ground, by their light howitzers carried on the backs of horses; every now and then keeping the slender force of their daring assailants at a distance, as they could bring their guns to bear on them. they marched as fast as they were capable of doing; but they were not yet secure; for the seraskier of the circassians, a brave, but a sagacious and cautious leader; though he would not allow his followers to attempt competing with the russians on the plain; attacked their rear and flank incessantly, until, when near anapa, he was joined by another larger body of the patriots. the whole army of the enemy might now have been destroyed, had the mountaineers possessed artillery. as it was, they escaped destruction solely through the garrison of anapa making a sortie to their rescue, with artillery and a strong body of cossacks. the harassed remnant at length reached that fortress. "mashallah!" cried the old warrior, as he looked angrily towards their retiring columns when they entered the fort; "we've repaid them for the surprise they attempted to give your noble father. they will not forget this day's work, for a long time to come. allah! if we had some of their light guns, they would not have escaped as they have done. but fear not, my sons, we will meet them again before long." there seemed every probability that the campaign in this part of the caucasus would be soon finished for that year. the hadji, therefore, with his followers, returned to the camp on the ubin to wait further events. the preceding is a faithful account of the style of warfare the russians have to engage in with the mountaineers of the caucasus, in which thousands of their soldiers annually fall victims. but what matters such a loss to the government of st. petersburg? they have millions of slaves to replace those who fall; and they have resolved to subdue the barbarians in spite of the rivers of innocent blood which may flow. may heaven grant that the bravery and patriotism of the high-minded and gallant circassians may be completely triumphant over all the efforts of their slavish and despotic oppressors! volume , chapter v. thaddeus stanisloff was now perfectly happy. no longer did he hesitate to approach the anderoon, and no longer did ina fear to meet him; her ear was ever intent to catch his approaching footstep, when, in spite of old kahija's frowns, she would start up, and hasten to the gate of the enclosure, for within those sacred precincts, no man dares venture to approach. she did not, however, stop to analyse very clearly her own feelings; but they were so novel, so delightful, so pure, she could not help indulging in them. thaddeus loved ina, with the most ardent, tender attachment; and often did he anticipate a life of happiness, passed in her society, amidst the vales and mountains of circassian when he would teach her the love, religion, and the customs of civilised europe, and eagerly did she listen to these discourses of her gallant preserver. still they had not yet talked of love; yet, much did he long to speak in the language of confidence, unrestrained by the presence of the gentle zara, or the young conrin. early one morning, he met his mistress at the gate of the anderoon, fortunately before old kahija had made her appearance; seizing the opportunity-- "ina," said he, "i have much of deep and earnest import to communicate; and i would not, that other ears than yours, should listen. will you deign to meet me then, and hear my words, for here i cannot speak them? ere the sun has set this evening, will you meet me, ina, in the sacred grove, near the ruins, over whose shattered fragments the cross still rears its head triumphant?" "stranger," answered ina, "you are my brother's trusted friend. i know too from your brave and generous nature, that you would not seek aught from me, that is unbecoming a maiden's modesty." "believe me, you will do no wrong in trusting me. i'll wait until you can steal from old kahija's vigilance. your page can see you safe, and watch the while we speak, that none intrude. do you consent, lady?" "i will meet you, noble stranger," answered ina, with timidity, and blushing as she spoke. "i know that you will guard me from danger." "thanks, ina, thanks, for your confidence; my life shall answer for your safety!" thaddeus might, perhaps, at that time have found an opportunity of letting ina fully understand his devoted love for her; when they were interrupted by the coming of the discreet old kahija, who considered that the conversation had already endured beyond the bounds of decorum. he was most unwillingly, therefore, obliged to retire, and to pass away the hours in thinking of his mistress; until the old nurse should have gone to the mosque for evening prayer, when ina would meet him. the spot thaddeus had selected, was a beautiful grove situated a little way up the mountain side, which, from time immemorial, had been looked on with veneration, by the inhabitants; because there, according to tradition, their ancestors had formerly worshipped the great spirit, and his son who once visited earth. in his wanderings, thaddeus had discovered the ruins he mentioned, which were those of a church of considerable size, as appeared by the fragments, still remaining scattered here and there, among the herbage; but many years must have passed since it was reduced to its present state, from the large trees growing amidst the stones. the foot of the cross itself, formed from two large blocks, had been deeply imbedded in a rock, projecting from the mountain's side. over the sacred emblem, the trees had formed a sheltering arbour, its existence there being a fit symbol of the christian religion, standing on the rock amid the ruin and decay even of its own temples and rites. to this spot resorted those, who would ask some special favour of the mighty spirit they worshipped; but, ignorant of him who had chosen it as his emblem, they would fall down in adoration before it; many believing that the spirit himself dwelt within it, and that the stone retained hidden virtues. it was also considered as a sanctuary, which none would dare to violate. any one followed by his most deadly enemy, who could reach it, might cling to its support and there be safe from vengeance. even those professing islamism still held it in veneration. chaplets of flowers, the votive offerings of the worshippers, were hung on the surrounding trees until they withered away. thaddeus eagerly hastened to the spot, long ere the time he might expect the coming of his mistress; but he wished to be alone in that sacred place to commune with himself, to dwell upon the anticipation of his bliss should his hopes of her answer be fulfilled. he wandered round the ruins of the once sacred pile; sometimes he feared she could not really love him, and a moment afterwards he felt confident of winning her. then he threw himself beneath the shade of some tree, and anxiously watched the lengthening shadows; and next he would rise and hasten through the grove, towards the direction whence his mistress should come; but he saw her not. the sun had not yet sunk low enough in the heavens, and he regretted that he had not persuaded her to come at an earlier hour. he again returned, lest, perhaps, she might have passed some other way. inspired by the solemnity of the spot, he threw himself down before the cross, and offered up his thanksgiving to heaven for his own preservation, and his prayers for future blessings. deeply absorbed in his devotions, he thought not of the lapse of time; and, as he rose and gazed eagerly around to see if ina was near, the sun had reached the edge of the mountain, tinging its sides with a saffron hue, and throwing a deep shade at its base. the minutes now passed like hours; he feared something might have prevented her coming; some accident might have befallen her; he thought of the revenge of the khan and trembled for her safety. as despair was about taking possession of him, at length, his heart bounded as he caught sight of her, moving amid the trees like some benign spirit of the groves. at a little distance from her, followed conrin, slowly and mournfully; who, on seeing thaddeus, turned aside. the young lover hastened forward to meet his mistress; he gently took her hand, which she did not withdraw, as he led her to a seat, formed of a broken architrave, beneath the cross. for some minutes neither spoke, as they sat gazing on the rich and smiling valley below them, which was clothed with a soft mellow light; a serene and solemn silence reigned over the whole scene. the lovers felt perfect happiness; they feared to speak, lest a word might break the soft enchantment. thaddeus turned to ina, and, gazing on her eyes, so liquid and tender, yet so lustrous, he saw an expression there which gave him courage to speak. "ina," he said, "i came to this land a stranger among your people. all my hopes in life were blighted. i had been an imprisoned felon, condemned to death, every instant expecting to die by the hands of my comrades, but was rescued by your brother's bravery. to him i owe all i now possess: i owe him my life, and--more far more than life--the happiness of seeing you. from the moment i saw you, i loved you; from that moment your image has never been absent from my thoughts. in the ardour of the chase, in the solitude of the night, i have thought alone of you; and oh! the rapture, when i found you were saved from the ruffian who would have torn you from me! sweetest ina, i love you!" ina gazed at him. a sweet smile irradiated her features; her eyes sparkled with animation. "is it possible?" she said, with an inquiring look. "that you, thaddeus, accustomed to the magnificence of the cities, and the accomplished beauties of frangistan, can think of a mountain maid like me, who has never passed her native shores? perhaps, you spoke but in sport; but no, you would not tamper thus with my heart." "ina, could words alone convince you how ardently i love you, i would speak them," answered thaddeus; "but no language has fitting words to express my feelings. i would die to save you from harm. dearest ina, can you love me?" "love you? blessed joy! oh yes! perhaps, i do not love you as i ought; still i would not that any arm but yours should have saved me from him that would have torn me from you. do you think i love you now?" "yes, dearest," said her lover, folding her in his arms as her head sank upon his neck. "yes, ina, by yonder cross i swear to guard you with my life; to love no other but you." "indeed 'tis bliss to hear you speak such words," answered the maid. "a short time ago i thought i loved but one--my honoured father; and then, my brother coming, shared my love; but now i feel my heart too small to hold the love i bear for you. the feelings which i bear for those dear ones i would tell to all the world; but what i feel for you is a treasured secret i would tell to none but you." "ina, you are my own," exclaimed thaddeus. "oh never deem that i could share my love for you with any other: the very thought were sacrilege. how ardently have i longed before to say this to you--to learn from your own sweet lips, if you could feel the same for me! but still i feared that i could not be worthy of such love as yours." we must no longer attempt to describe the words with which the young pole told the deep feelings of his heart to the pure and gentle ina. side by side they sat, nor thought how fast the hours sped. the sun had long gone down, the stars came out glittering in the dark clear blue sky, and the moon arose in pure and tranquil majesty to witness their guiltless love, throwing her silvery beams through the dark trees of the grove. yet still they lingered, pouring into each other's ears the words of soft endearment. at length they rose from the spot hallowed for ever in their memory, when a gentle step approached, and young conrin stood before them. ina thought she heard a sob. he spoke at last in low and hurried tones-- "i came to warn you that night approaches," he said. "you'll be sought for anxiously in the hamlet, and great alarm will be felt when you are missed." "ah, is it indeed so late?" said ina. "i thought we had passed but a few minutes here. we will hasten home." "i will guard you to your home, dear ina!" said thaddeus, as he supported her steps. though both knew that they ought to hasten, yet neither felt any inclination to quicken their pace, as they passed through the sacred grove, and chose, they knew it not, the longest road to the village. they had yet much to say, when they found themselves at the gate of the anderoon. young conrin followed slowly, and again they heard that half-stifled sob; but he sought to avoid their observation. they stopped at the gate to whisper many more endearing words; and perhaps they might have spent another hour, fancying it but a minute, had they not been startled by the harsh sounds of kahija's voice, who had bustled out in no sweet temper at the long absence of her young charge. "truly, these are pretty doings for a maiden, to be staying from home at this late hour. what would have been said, had any of the inmates of old mustapha's harem, at stamboul, taken it into their silly heads to wander about in this way? they would soon have found themselves at the bottom of the bosphorus, i warrant. that is the way young ladies are treated, who misbehave themselves in the only civilised country in the world--and a very proper way too. a pretty example you set my young lady, zara. i suppose that she, who has always been so correct--thanks to my instructions--will take it into her head next, to go gadding about in the same way. but, i'll take care she does no such thing i'll promise her. i hope to see the free manners of the girls, of this country, reformed before i die. it's quite dreadful, scandalous, to see them wandering about in this independent manner, with their veils thrown off their faces to let everybody stare at them who likes. come, sir," she said, turning to thaddeus; "i wonder you stay here. i thought you knew that the anderoon was forbidden ground to any man but my lord. i should think you had enough of my lady's company already." but thaddeus felt no inclination to move without speaking a word more of farewell; and old kahija, having vented some of her wrath; and not being, in reality, ill-natured; saw it was useless opposing an affair, which was, indeed, no business of hers. she therefore turned away for a few minutes, during which time thaddeus snatched a parting embrace from his mistress, drawing a promise from her to meet him again on the next day. when the old nurse returned, the intruder, much to her satisfaction, was gone. ina then entered the anderoon, when zara, throwing aside the embroidery she was engaged on, sprang forward to meet her. "dear ina," she exclaimed, "i feared some other danger had befallen you, that you returned not before." "no danger could happen to me where i went," answered ina; "i was safe from every harm. so lovely an evening to wander out!" she added, with a little pardonable deceit. "i wonder you can bear to be so shut up." "i, too, should like to wander out to breathe the air of evening," answered zara; "but old kahija will not hear of it." "what is that you say?" said the old nurse entering. "what! are you trying to teach zara to follow your own wild customs? but you will not succeed; she is too good a girl to wish to do any thing of the sort. when she marries young alp beg, she may do what she can; but she will be shut up close enough then; and so will you, ina, if you marry a true believer, instead of one of these heathen countrymen of ours." happy were the slumbers of ina that night as she laid her face upon her pillow. she dreamed that again she trod the sacred grove with him she loved--that again she heard his voice speaking those magic words which changed her very being--she felt the pressure of his hand in hers--and she saw the moon rise amidst the trees, the witness of their love. volume , chapter vi. perfect tranquillity reigned in the valley of abran bashi, far removed from the loud tocsin of war which hung round the borders, though news occasionally arrived of skirmishes with the moscov, and sometimes a wounded warrior would come to be recovered by the care of his family. at times, too, wailing and weeping was heard, when a family received intelligence of some dear relation having fallen in the fight; or a sad train would pass through the valley, accompanying the corpse of some noble, borne on his war-steed, who had lost his life in one of the many useless attacks which were at that time made on the russian lines; more for bravado, and for the sake of exhibiting bravery and fearlessness of consequences--the characteristic of the circassian warrior--than for any advantage to be gained. notwithstanding the predictions of the old chief, thaddeus began to hope that the khan, khoros kaloret, had foregone all farther attempts to carry off ina; and, being ignorant by what hand his clansman had fallen, he would be unable to fix his revenge on any one. thus all dread of evil consequences left his mind; and even ina no longer feared to renew her rambles under his protection beyond even her former limits, though sure of receiving a severe lecture from old kahija after each transgression. we have as yet given but a slight sketch of her beautiful friend, the young zara: she was like a sweet rose-bud, fresh and blooming, ere the first rays of the morning sun have dissipated the crystal dew; a complete child of nature. brought up in that secluded valley, she knew nought of the world beyond the lofty mountains that surrounded it. within that spot all her thoughts and hopes had been concentrated; she loved her pure streams, her verdant fields, and her shady groves, and grateful to the kind nature who placed her there; she was happy and contented, and would have felt miserable at the idea of leaving them, undazzled even by old kahija's descriptions of the gorgeous stamboul. her character was pure as her own sweet face; she seemed formed for love and tenderness alone, unfit to buffet with the cares and troubles of the world. like a delicate plant, requiring some strong tree round which to entwine its slender tendrils, to gain strength and support from it. her temper was sweet and amiable to all; and even old kahija's lectures failed to ruffle her. dutiful and obedient to her only remaining parent, she tended him in sickness with the most gentle and unremitting care; and dearly in return did the old chief love his little zara. her features were soft and feminine as her character; she was beautifully fair; her delicate auburn locks hung over her swan-like neck in rich profusion, her large eyes of purest blue were shaded by dark lashes, adding to their tender and languishing glance, while a smile playing round her ruby lips, betokened a happy and contented heart. her figure, though equally graceful, was shorter and fuller than her friend's; but none could deem it otherwise than perfect. such seemed the fair young being who had bestowed all her pure and warm affections on the gallant and youthful warrior, alp beg, and truly did he prize the treasured girl he had won. he had been loved from his childhood by her grandfather for his courage and activity in all manly sports, and now gladly did the old chief accord his sanction to their union, which he had arranged with the hadji before his departure for the camp. as yet the fair girl knew not that her hopes were to be fulfilled, for though alp had found time to whisper his love, neither knew that their parents would give their sanction to their marriage; and often would sad forebodings for the future cross her otherwise tranquil mind, fears that their union might be forbid, or that he might be snatched from her by the cruel urus. the two fair girls were seated on an ottoman in the anderoon, while ina worked a belt with golden thread, her first gift to thaddeus. zara struck the cords of her lute. how sweet and thrilling was her voice, as she sang the following simple ballad:-- the sun shone like glittering gold on the lake, while softly the breeze through the green forest play'd; the birds sang their gay notes from rock and from brake, and sweet odours sprung from each flowery glade; there was heard too a fountain's light murmuring voice, and nature in smiles seemed with glee to rejoice. though nature was smiling, yet sorrow was nigh, for near a pure stream, 'neath a green willow's shade, with her quick panting bosom, a bright weeping eye, there stood, trembling with fear, a fair atteghei maid, as a gallant youth, pressing her form in his arms, sought, with love's parting kisses, to calm her alarms. mid the clustering forest his charger stood near. and, his streaming mane tossing, was stamping the ground; his squire was holding his buckler and spear, while from far off came booming the cannon's deep sound. one more agonised pang, and he tore him away, and mounted his war-steed to join the affray, but as slowly he rode through the green leafy wood, with a lingering pace he oft turned his fond gaze, to cast one more glance where his lov'd maiden stood, till soon she was hid by the thick forest maze; then, spurring his charger with speed o'er the lee, soon with fear did the foemen his dancing crest see. like the willow which gracefully bent o'er the stream. the maiden stood tremb'ling and drooping with grief, like the dew of the morn did those precious drops seem, when the bright sun-beams play on the spark'ling green leaf. ah! cruel the war that could make her thus mourn! ah! sad 'twas to leave that sweet maiden forlorn! then rising, she clomb o'er the mountain so high, and she look'd o'er the hill and she look'd down the vale; saw joyous in fancy his gay banner fly, when her ear caught the sound of a funeral wail. through the glen, as advancing with mournful slow tread, a train bore the bier of a warrior dead. then fearful and fleet as the chas'd deer she flew, down the steep mountain's side, over chasm and brake. for well the bright arms of her hero she knew; not the whirlwind's swift course could her flight overtake. then she threw herself down her slain lover beside; she sigh'd not, she wept not, but heart-broken died. as she finished, tears stood in her eyes, and her voice trembled at the last lines. "why sing you that mournful ditty, dear zara?" said her friend. "it is too sad for one, whose eye sorrow has not dimmed, to sing." "i know not why i sing it," answered zara; "but i could not help it, the words came flowing to my lips." "who taught you so sad an air?" asked ina. "a venerable bard who travelled once this way. his steps were feeble, and his locks were blanched with years, and, as he rested at our house he sang this air, gazing sorrowfully at my face, and made me learn these words, i know not why. he went his way, nor ever have i seen him since: but still, at times, a sadness comes upon me, and i sing this song." a deep-drawn sob was heard from the corner of the apartment where the young conrin had thrown himself on a divan. "come hither, conrin," said ina, in tones of kindness. he had been weeping; for his eyes were red and his features wore an air of sadness. "why do you weep, dear conrin? what makes you thus sorrowful?" "sad thoughts and feelings," answered the page. "i have much to make me weep: but it was that song overcame me. i wept for the sad forebodings that it brought upon my soul, for myself i care not, but for those i have learned to love." "what causes have you for grief, dear boy?" said ina. "are you not happy here, where all so love you?" "i cannot tell you, lady," answered the page. "why not tell me your grief? perchance, confiding it to me, i may aid to mitigate it," said ina. "oh no, it is impossible; my grief is too deep for consolation; it is a secret i shall never tell," answered the page. "but, i may find a means to soothe it," urged ina. "lady, pray deem me not ungrateful; but again, i beseech you, let me leave you," exclaimed conrin. "i love you much; but yet, i love your noble brother more. the only balm you can give to soothe me is to let me go to him." "but, why would you leave this calm retreat to hasten amidst scenes of war and bloodshed?" said ina. "i would go to my master, wherever he may be, lady," answered conrin. "i fear some danger threatens him; i know not what, but dark forebodings steal across my soul. i cannot look upon the future as i used to do, hoping for days of brightness and joy; my heart no longer bounds as it was wont, with thoughts of happiness. oh let me seek my master, that i may guard him from the threatened harm, if still i may! i would too, gaze upon his loved features once again before i die, for too surely do i feel the troubled inward spirit preparing for its flight to quit this world. i feel that nothing can avert my death, come how it may." "boy, you speak of strange, mysterious things," exclaimed ina, in an alarmed tone. "why think you danger threatens my dear brother? and why these sad forebodings of your own fate?" "lady, i come of a race who oft see things hidden from duller eyes; and once, it is said, our ancestors could foretell either the death of mortals, or their destiny; but the power has passed away, as we have mixed our blood with other tribes. yet, even now, we often see the shadow of a coming evil; and it is a curse upon our race, that we cannot guard against it when it threatens ourselves. for others yet we may, and thus i would attempt to guard my master." "conrin, you persuade me strongly to let you go; and for my dear brother's sake i will, though i should be loath to part from you. oh, shield him, if you can, from danger, and may allah bless you!" "thanks, lady, thanks! even now my spirits lighten of their load," exclaimed conrin. "i would set off this day; another may be too late." "you cannot journey alone, on that road, dear page," said ina; "you shall accompany the first band of warriors who set forward for the camp." "oh, i would find my way alone, through every obstacle, to meet your noble brother," said the boy, eagerly. "conrin, that cannot be; you know not half the dangers which would beset you on the road. to-morrow, perhaps, some warriors may go forth. you said you had a secret that you would not tell; but let me hear it; for much do i love you, for the affection which you bear my brother; and much it pains my heart to think that yours must bleed without a sympathising friend, to soothe your pain. ah! how blind i have been! a thought has opened now my eyes. come hither; let me whisper to your ear." the gentle ina bent over her page's head. a deep blush suffused the boy's cheeks; his eyes filled with tears. "ah! it is so? let me weep with you," she cried. "but, be of good hope, all may yet be well. such love as yours cannot go unrequited." old kahija was certain to intrude when she was least wanted; and at that instant she made her appearance, hobbling in, for she was somewhat unwieldy in her gait. her cheeks almost burst with impatience to communicate some important information. "here's news for you, young ladies, from the camp," she exclaimed. "ah, zara, my pretty maid, you'll not have to sigh much longer, i am thinking, for the young alp. now, girls, what would you give to have the information? your best earrings, i warrant; but i am not cruel, and will keep you no longer in suspense," she added, as eager to communicate the news, as the fair inmates of the harem were to hear it. "know then, my pretty zara, that our noble chief, your grandfather, has given his sanction for your marriage with young alp beg, and in a short time, he will be here to bear you from us." "speak you the words of truth, kahija?" exclaimed zara, blushing, but looking perfectly happy, as she threw herself upon ina's neck. "oh, say when he will come?" "he has sent some one to deliver a message to you; therefore wrap your features closely in a veil, and go out to the gate of the anderoon. and that reminds me there is some one to see you, conrin, from your master." "ah!" exclaimed the page, hastening to the door. "what joy to hear of him." "a messenger from my brother!" cried ina. "i too, must learn what news he brings." at the gates of the anderoon, conrin found javis waiting his coming. "i bring news from our master, for his sister," said the squire. "in a few days he will be here, and then i must quit his service, if i can return to russia. i have fulfilled my oath, i have obeyed your wish; no mortal, with a spirit that could feel, would do more." "javis, i owe you much;" exclaimed the page. "i would repay you with my life; but the only reward you prize, alas! i cannot give." "i ask for no reward," answered javis; "the only one i prize, alas! i cannot gain; and after that, death will be the most welcome. but i would see my people first, and breathe my spirit out amongst them. i have done your bidding. i vowed to do what you wished, nor stipulated for reward. i rescued the young chief from the power of the russians; i have striven to wash away my thought of crime almost perpetrated; i saw him safely landed on his native shores; i have seen him take his place among his people, as a chieftain of circassia: i even learned to love him for himself, but more i cannot do. i could not bear to see him again at your side; i must go even from you." the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of ina and zara. "say, when will my brother come?" exclaimed ina. "oh, 'twill be joy to see him." "in three days hence, if the russians move not from their encampments," answered javis. "bring you any message for me?" said zara, timidly addressing a young warrior, who respectfully saluted her at her approach. "yes, lady, i bear a message from my friend, the gallant alp beg. before two days have passed, and ere the shade of yonder lofty tree has reached the stream which flows a short distance from its base, he will be here." "you bring me grateful news, indeed. oh, many thanks!" returned zara. "say, is your friend well?" "yes, lady, he is well; and bears himself bravely against the foe," answered the messenger. "come, come, maidens," exclaimed kahija, bustling up. "it is very incorrect to stop chattering longer than is necessary at the gate of the anderoon. if you have received your messages, come into the house, and let the young men go their way." having no further excuse for remaining, the fair girls were obliged to do as desired, though they would fain have heard more of those so dear to them. volume , chapter vii. we must return again to take a glance at the patriot camp on the ubin. except the slight skirmishes already described, nothing of importance had been effected, and as the winter was now fast approaching, the russians appeared to contemplate no further movement. a council of war was one day held in a grove, away from the din and bustle of the camp, at which were present, among many of the princes and nobles of circassia; arslan gherrei, his son and the hadji, when shots were heard announcing the arrival of some other chief, and presently a band of wild horsemen were seen approaching, dressed in skins and furs, of some of the mountain tartar tribes. at their head, rode the khan khoros kaloret; who, after dismounting, singly approached the council ring. the chiefs stood up as he stepped boldly amongst them. his looks were fierce and angry, as his glance passed round on the assembled nobles, who could ill brook his haughty mien. at length, one of the most ancient addressed him-- "why come you here, khan, to interrupt our conference? have you any tidings of importance to communicate?" "why come i here?" echoed the khan, furiously. "think you, i come for idle sport? no, i come to claim my brother's blood at your hands. say, where he is, or i may not continue to be a friend to any here. say, where is my brother?" "we know not of your brother, khan; we have spoken our answer." "does my brother, live? i ask you," said the khan. "we know not of your brother," answered the former speaker. "to you then, uzden arslan gherrei, i appeal," said the khan. "i sent him to you, to bring back your daughter as my bride; and since he left your house, none of my clansmen know aught of him. at your hands, i require him." "your brother, khan, quitted my house free to go where he willed. i cannot tell you of him more," answered the chieftain-- the khan glanced fiercely around him for a few seconds, without speaking; during which, the members of the council moved to a farther distance, and resumed their seats; leaving the enraged khan, standing alone; a customary ana sufficient signal, that his presence was not required. the khan stood irresolute for a few minutes; then, against all rules of established ceremony, again approached them. "chieftain," he cried, addressing arslan gherrei; "again, i ask you, where is my brother? if dead, say who slew him, that i may know my enemy; or, if he fell before the foe, why brought you not away his corpse, and arms?" "khan," answered the chief; "is it not enough to say, that i cannot tell you of your brother? then ask me no more." saying which, the whole body returned to their former position, leaving the khan alone. he again followed them, when the council slowly rising, the aged chief, who had before spoken, again addressed him: "twice have we warned you, khan, not to question us of your brother. now learn his fate; he died a traitor's death--fighting in our foemen's ranks, he fell, attempting treachery. he lies now amongst a heap of cursed urus; his name disgraced and blotted from our memories. now go, and ask no more of him. his name is foul." "chieftain, whoever says my brother died a traitor's death, lies black as eblis. back in his mouth, i'll throw the calumny," cried the khan. "my brother was ever a foe to russia, and deeply will i avenge his slandered honour." at these words, the chiefs half drew their swords; but, recollecting that he stood one among many, and having compassion upon him for his grief, and his brother's crime and death, they returned them to their scabbards, and spoke not. "uzden arslan gherrei, from henceforth know me as your deadly foe," cried the khan; "whatever death my brother died, 'twas you that caused it, and i will have revenge, if i die to gain it." uttering which, with a fierce tone and aspect, he strode from the spot, mounting his war horse, rode furiously from the camp, followed by the troop of his wild clansmen, without waiting to salute any of the chiefs he met. we must leave the khan to pursue his headlong course, while we follow the movements of the baron galetzoff, and the small army under his command. after marching from anapa, they proceeded to the newly erected fort, we have described on the south side of the kouban, which was built on slightly elevated ground, at no great distance; though beyond gun shot of the range of mountains, which girt the territories to which the tribes of the atteghei are now confined. on the other side extended a broad plain, formed of the marshes of the kouban, from which the heats of summer draw forth the noxious miasma, so prejudicial to the health of the soldiers; but the flat marshy nature of the country, added to the security of the position, lessens the chance of a surprise, and gives full scope for the deadly fire of grape and rockets. the fort had been commenced under the protection of a large force; and the baron was now employed in forming fresh entrenchments, and taking every means to strengthen his position; waiting in hopes of some opportunity occurring to revenge himself for the losses he had sustained. no houses had as yet been built; the troops living in wretched huts hastily constructed of mud and boughs, and the officers in their tents. towards the close of the day, the baron was seated in his tent, when his aide-de-camp announced to him that one of the chiefs of the enemy, with a flag of truce, desired an audience immediately. "let him be admitted," said the general. "we may at length have awed some of these barbarians into subjection." the baron rose to receive his guest as the officer returned, ushering in a tall ferocious looking warrior, his heavy sword clashing against his armour, as with a fearless step he entered the tent. the general started when he saw him; for he thought of the young khan to whose death he had been instrumental, and of his squire whom he had unjustly shot, as gazing earnestly at the stranger, he almost fancied the dead stood before him. for a few moments neither spoke, as the civilised european commander confronted the wild warrior of the mountains, who returned his glance with a haughty and seemingly contemptuous stare. at length, banishing his superstitious fears, he spoke. "who are you, chief, that thus venture into the camp of the russians?" "i am kaloret khan," answered the chief in a fierce tone. at the sound of that name the baron started, laying his hand upon his sword to prepare himself for the expected attack. "fear not," said the khan in a contemptuous tone, "i come not to do you harm. did i wish to kill you, i could have done so ere this. see!" he added, pointing to the opening of the tent, before which one of his wild clansmen was holding his war horse. "i could have struck you dead, and mounted my fleet steed, leaping your paltry entrenchments, before one of your slow-moving soldiers could have stopped me. no, russian, i come not to harm you." "for what purpose do you come here? what ask you?" said the general. "i come," answered the khan, frowning darkly, and clenching his gauntleted hand, "i come to seek revenge." "a goodly feeling, and one that should be encouraged by all brave men," answered the baron. "and on whom do you seek it?" "on those who have injured me. on a chieftain, arslan gherrei, who refused to let his daughter be my wife; and shall i tamely brook such an insult? i would bear the girl away, in spite of her refusal; i would revenge myself upon him for my brother's death; who is said to have come to ask your aid to carry off the chieftain's daughter, when he died by the hand of selem, his newly found son." "you have heard truly, khan," answered the general. "say, how can i assist you in your wishes, and i will gladly hold the hand of friendship forth to you." "i would bring hither the daughter of the chieftain, for i must quit my mountain home, my flocks and herds, and come to join you with my followers." "you speak wisely, khan," said the baron. "you shall be received with open arms; but you must also bring this son of arslan gherrei, and his youthful page, and also a russian officer, who lately escaped when under sentence of death. i will, in return, promise you lands, flocks, and herds to supply those you have left." "you speak of selem gherrei, russian," exclaimed the khan. "it were easier far to entrap the savage boar, and bring him willingly along, than to bring alive before you any of the chiefs of the atteghei. but i will try; and, if i fail, it shall not be for want of hatred and revenge to prompt me." "bring him alive, if possible; if not, bring me his corpse, and you will be welcome. there are others i would secure--his squire, and a slow, heavy slave, who is probably about his person." "i have already said i will do my best to please you," said the khan haughtily, "and now i must depart." "farewell, until you return with your prisoners," rejoined the russian. "chieftain of russia," responded the khan, "you will see me soon again. i tarry not in my revenge." saying which khoros kaloret strode from the tent with the same haughty air with which he had entered, and, mounting his horse, galloped off. "there goes a traitor," said the baron, following him with his eye as he rode off; "and if there were a few more like him, we might soon rightly call the fair lands of circassia our own. i think i can trust that barbarian, with revenge for his motive of action; and if he brings arslan gherrei's daughter, i shall have a hold upon him he cannot easily break through." he then summoned count erintoff to his presence. "ah! colonel," he said, as the count entered, "i have at length a hope of punishing those who have hitherto escaped my vengeance." "i am rejoiced to hear it, general," said the count. "we owe it as a duty to our country to punish those vile deserters, not to mention the indulgence of a little private revenge. but how is it that you hope to succeed?" "why it appears that the fierce khan, khoros khaloret, has taken umbrage that the chief arslan gherrei refuses him his daughter--the same of whom we heard so much, and who so narrowly escaped us at the fords of the mezi, when the khan's brother led you into that desperate scrape. he now wishes to run off with the lady, and take refuge with us: so i have made it a condition of his being; well received, that he brings off those deserters, ivan galetzoff, his page, lieutenant stanisloff, and others. i fear he may not succeed in capturing ivan galetzoff, who, now i hear, bears the name of selem gherrei; indeed, i have no doubt he is the son of arslan gherrei, as i captured the boy myself, and well remember that was the name of the chief whose village i attacked and burned. i carried off his wife with this boy, who i knew not was her own son, little thinking what a viper i was cherishing. i intended him to prove a bitter enemy to this rebellious country, but i find this woman counteracted all my intentions, by instilling into his bosom an absurd love of country and liberty. i would give worlds to get him into my power; and though the khan may not succeed in entrapping him, he may secure his page, whom he brought with him from russia, and to whom it seems he is much attached. i propose to work upon the boy, either by kindness or threats of his life, to induce him to assist in some plot to betray his master. at all events i have hopes that this young gherrei, when he finds we have possession of his sister and page, will attempt to rescue them. we will be on the watch to ensure his capture, and i will promise a reward to whoever makes him a prisoner. what say you, count, to my plans?" "it is an excellent plot, and cannot fail," said his worthy officer; "but we must also endeavour to re-capture lieutenant stanisloff. i have a little private grudge against him, which i would fain indulge." "oh! there is but little chance of missing him," answered his superior; "he will probably accompany selem gherrei into the field, and fall into the same toil as his friend. you, colonel, shall have the lady as your share." "i cannot refuse so generous an offer," said the count. "i suppose she must be beautiful, or she would not have inflamed the heart of the savage khan. i require some fair mistress to drive the gipsy azila out of my head; for i could never gain any further trace of her after it was discovered that she was implicated in that miserable conspiracy." "a great disappointment, colonel; but i dare say this wild mountain beauty will recompense you for her loss," said the baron. "perchance she may," answered the count, "for it is said these circassian beauties may vie with the most lovely in the world. but we must be cautious. if we deprive the fiery khan of the lady, he may give us some trouble. he does not appear a person who would quietly submit to have his mistress taken from him, after the risk and danger he must undergo to win her." "that matters little," answered the baron; "he will give us but slight trouble, for we must put him out of the way on the first convenient opportunity. i never contemplated allowing him to remain alive. i love not these intractable mountaineers; and can never trust them. we can let him fall into the hands of his countrymen, and they will take good care to ease us of any further thought concerning him." "a very good idea, general," answered the count. "i agree with you that these barbarians are equally troublesome whether as friends or enemies; and i confess i did not like the scowl he cast on me and all around, as he passed, bearing himself as proudly as if he were some conqueror riding amidst his slaves." "they are a detested race," exclaimed the general, grinning through his thick-mustachioed lips; "but we will soon humble their pride, and drag them in chains to st. petersburg, where they shall be exhibited as a specimen of the knights of old and we may then build our chateau, and lay out our parks amidst these green hills and fertile valleys, without the fear of being molested." "you are facetious, general, at the expense of the savages," said the count. "but, according to my taste, this is rather too far from the capital to build a country house. i should like, however, to transfer a few of their fair beauties from these wilds to people my domain near moscow; and as for the men who have given us so much trouble, i would shoot them all as traitors, or send them to work in the mines of siberia. they are too fierce to be tamed; for, like hyaenas, they would never be at rest, and would spring upon us when we least expected it. but, badinage aside, what do you, baron, intend to do with the prisoners the khan is to bring us? they deserve severe punishment." "shoot them as flagrant deserters taken in arms against the emperor," answered the baron, clenching his hand, and frowning darkly. "it is too mild a punishment for them." "this page of ivan galetzoff, or selem gherrei, or whatever name he now goes by, deserves punishment richly for that affair of the mezi," said the count. "i saw him fighting as furiously as the oldest hands among them. the fiery young villain shot the khan's brother and one of our own cossacks, who was about to cut down his master. i fear we shall not succeed in getting much service out of him." "then he must die. we must make an example of all deserters," said the general, "or we shall find our ranks completely empty before long. what with the desertion of these rascally slaves we have sent there as soldiers, these cursed fevers which sweep off so many, and the atrocious daring of these barbarous mountaineers, we have lost more men already than we can spare. had i my own way, i would overwhelm these circassians at one fell swoop, and exterminate them from the face of the earth." "i agree with you, general, this is the only way to treat them," answered the count. volume , chapter viii. with light and bounding heart, young alp urged on his steed towards the smiling valley of abran bashi, as from the summit of the last mountain he espied amid the trees the habitation of his young and beloved zara. he wore a persian suit of the finest chain armour, a gift from his uncle, achmet beg, over which was thrown a cloak of blue cloth, trimmed with gold. a belt of turkish leather, richly embroidered in gold, (the prized gift of his mistress, worked by her own fair hand), bound his waist, holding his jewelled dagger; and at his side hung a well tempered damascus blade. boots also of turkish leather, and worked by the same loved one, covered his feet. on his head, instead of the warlike helmet, he wore a cap of cloth, trimmed with a narrow border of dark fur, overshadowed by a plume of white feathers. he looked indeed a noble bridegroom, worthy of the love of circassia's lovely daughters, the pride of his gallant old father. by his side rode his tried and sworn friend, the son of the brave and sturdy chief, ali beg, his companion in many a wild and daring adventure, when they were boys together; and lately, in the sterner and sanguinary scenes of warfare. he too was in his most gallant array, his arms furbished to their utmost polish, his coat and steel almost concealed by a gay-coloured vest, and by the cloak which hung from his shoulders. he had been selected by his friend for the honourable and important post of bridesman, to escort the bride to the house of her destined lord. in the meantime, young zara was counting the hours, as they seemed to crawl by, ere he came; and in spite of all old kahija's notions of propriety, stole often and furtively to the wicket of the enclosure surrounding the anderoon, to throw many a searching glance up the valley to the summit of the hill, over which she knew her knight must pass. then she would run back again, and pretend to be busily engaged in her work, her ear anxiously intent to catch the sounds of his horse's hoofs, as her eye was to search for his graceful figure. then she would persuade herself and her friend that she had a head-ache, and that a little more fresh air would wonderfully benefit her; and she would seize ina's arm, and hurry off. her friend fully comprehended the reasons of her constant visits to the gate. "why comes he not, ina?" at length she said. "what think you could have delayed him on the road? he said he would come ere the shadows of yonder tree had reached the waters of the rivulet, and see it already touches the edge of the bank. oh, allah! can any harm have befallen him? i never think of those dreadful urus without shuddering, and alp is always on some hazardous expedition against them; their very name frightens me." "nay," said ina, "let not your thoughts dwell on such fears. see the shadow has not yet reached the water, and ere it does, perhaps alp will be here." "tell me, ina, how is it that some women of our country can be so courageous as to rush into battle, fearing not the urus, and bear themselves as bravely as the men? for my part, i tremble at the report only of a rifle, and could not fire a pistol to defend my life," said zara. "because, dearest," answered her friend, "you have been removed from the scenes of havoc and bloodshed, which steel their hearts from all feelings of compassion for our foes, and which nerve their arms, and inspire them with courage to avenge their wrongs." "it is dreadful to think of it," exclaimed zara, shuddering. "i would rather die at once than look on blood. the foe might kill me, but i could not fight." "oh, let us pray, allah, that the dread foe may never come near this valley, and then you need have no cause to fear them," answered her friend. "i almost wish that alp was not so great a warrior; but yet i love to hear of his brave deeds. they say he will be equal to his father, and he is one of the bravest heroes of atteghei. ina, i will tell you a secret. i have loved alp for a very long time--ever since i first saw him--when he once came home, bringing two russian prisoners. hearing every body praise so much, i ventured to look at him, and then i saw what a gallant and noble youth he was. then he danced with me at the marriage of one of my grandfather's followers. oh, how my heart leaped as he pressed my hand, and led me out on the green. i did not care for all old kahija's frowns. and then the soft and sweet things he said to me! i never heard words like them, and when i looked at him again, i thought him one of the handsomest of all the youths of the atteghei--not in the least like his father, as people said he was. i was always happy when he came, and used to play so many tricks to avoid old kahija, who makes me so obedient at other times, though i never ventured away so far from the house as you do. then, when he told me how much he loved me, and that he would die, or win me, i was so happy! i did not think he would have to die." "yes, dear zara, alp is indeed a noble youth, well worthy a lady's love," answered ina. "ah!" said zara, clasping her friend's arm tighter, "see, ina, see, he comes! i see his glittering armour. i see his white plume. ah, he hastens onward--he looks this way, to catch a glimpse of me. now he looks at the shadow of the tall tree, to see if he have kept his promised time. see the shadow scarcely yet touches the water! he flies faster than the sun. he will be here in a few minutes. oh, ina, how my heart beats! i must run away--i must hide. he will think i have been looking for him. i ought not to stay here. what will kahija say?" whatever zara ought to have done, she showed not the slightest inclination to move, but continued waiting the approach of alp, who certainly proved himself to be no dilatory lover, by the rate he galloped on. so fast indeed did he approach, that she had not time to retire if she would, before, leaping from his horse, he clasped her in his arms, spite of her blushes, and the presence of ina, whom he seemed to have quite overlooked. he, however, now made his courtesies to her in proper form. "see, zara," he said, "i sent word i would come ere the shadow of yon tall tree had reached the stream, and it but now touches the wet grass on its borders. i come, sweet one;" and he whispered a few magic words in her ear which made the roses glow more brightly in her cheeks. "my father gives me but a few days ere he will call me back to the camp, so that we have but a short time. he will arrange all things with your grandfather, and to-morrow my home will await your coming." we will not dwell any longer on the interview of the lovers; nor need we describe their words of tender endearment; for love, we believe, to be much the same in all parts of the globe, influencing in the same way the thoughts and feelings of all those, whose young hearts have not been blighted and seared by the world, which too soon works a woeful change in all that is tender, pure, and lovely. these mountain lovers might not perhaps have used the courtly phrases of the cities of frangistan; but they spoke a language which both perfectly understood, and, looking into each other's eyes, they found words unnecessary. they did not even perceive that ina had long left them; and were somewhat startled in finding old kahija standing in her place, after an interval whose duration they had not calculated. her appearance drove many things, they were about to communicate to each other, out of their heads; and so pertinaciously did the nurse keep her ground, that alp, who had never fled before the russian fire, was now obliged to beat a most unwilling retreat. from far and near came guests to grace the bridal festival of the fair young zara and the gallant alp. from the mountain villages, and neighbouring dells, all assembled whom war had not called from their homes, and all ranks and classes were equally welcomed by the venerable and hospitable old chief. parties of youths and maidens came in their gayest attire, streaming over the hills and down the valleys; their embroidered cloaks fluttering in the breeze, and glittering with silver fringe, singing, as they wended their way, songs in praise of the young couple. here some noble gallant might be seen on his gaily caparisoned charger, scouring along the valley to join the throng; others came in attendance on their fair partners for the coming dance; their gallantry more sincere, and scarcely less refined than in the civilised countries of europe. the vests of the maidens were ornamented in front with silver studs, and closed by clasps of the same metal; while a jewelled broach confined the bands which bound their slender waists. white veils or scarfs, nearly reaching the ground, fell from amid their braided tresses, confined at the ends by a silver cord. they wore muslin trousers, fastened round their ankles; their petticoats reaching to the knee, and embroidered slippers encased their small feet. the lower ranks were dressed in less elegant attire, though of much the same fashion; but all had done their utmost to deck their persons to the best advantage, to add to the brilliancy of the scene. the feast was held in the grove close to the habitation of the prince, where arbours had been erected for the fairer portion of the guests. in the principal one zara, with ina and old kahija, were stationed to receive them. numerous bands of slaves were in attendance, bearing tables to the green glade, from which, through an opening in the trees, was seen the lower part of the valley; and here the old chief stood with alp and his friends, to receive the male guests as they quickly assembled. the tables were spread in long rows on the grassy lawn; the chiefs, and those of higher rank, being seated round their venerable host, while those not of noble birth and the freemen, were placed at the other end. in the neighbouring thicket were numerous fires, at each of which was suspended a nobly charged spit, or a kettle tended by female slaves busily employed in preparing viands for the large party assembled. at a distance stood in eager and hungry expectation, the serfs and those not of rank sufficiently high to enjoy the privilege of sitting at table; but to whom the remainder of the banquet was to be served when the nobles had finished. there were minstrels also to chaunt forth the praise of the bridegroom and his fair zara, one taking up the strain from the other, and each endeavouring to outdo the first in praise and delicacy of compliment. in the meantime, zara and her fair companions were entertained in the arbours, whence their light ringing laughter reached the spot where the nobles were seated. though many of the party where mahometans, the cup of sparkling wine often passed round to the sound of music; but they remained not long seated, for eager were the youths to join the dance, when they saw the troops of lovely maidens tripping gaily along the verdant glade, entwining round their graceful forms wreaths of bright flowers. the youths spiling quickly from the tables in pursuit of their fair partners; and vain were their laughing efforts to escape from the quick footed, active mountaineers, who soon overtook them, leading them back no unwilling prisoners to the smoothest and most level spot for dancing. then did the musicians strike up their gayest airs; the dancers moving first to slow and measured time, in circles alternately of youths and maids, now lifting their arms in graceful undulations aloft and now joining their hands in the centre. then, as the music quickened, pursuing each other round and round; the maids wreathing their flowers and circling the heads of the youth as they knelt at their feet. then springing up, they pursued their giddy course. alp led forth his bride elect, the last time he could thus appear with her in public; thaddeus, following his example with ina; and many a closely veiled and hooded matron of high rank conducted to the dance their daughters to receive the hands of partners. gracefully they moved through the forest glades. the minstrels exerted their talents to the utmost, and were joined, at times, by the sweet voices of the fair dancers; while, occasionally, laughter resounded on all sides. the elders and matrons, seated on divans and carpets in the arbours or beneath the shade of the trees, looked on with approbation, applauding the graceful movements and activity of their children. the time was now approaching when zara must leave the gay scene to be attired in her thick veil in preparation for her journey, old ivahija being in waiting to carry her off to the house. all present seemed full of happiness, except the young page, conrin. the joyousness of the scene grated on his feelings; and forsaking the throng, he sought to calm his troubled thoughts at a distance in solitude and quiet. he earnestly longed to see his master again; he was disappointed at selem's not arriving as he expected, and feared that the danger he fancied was approaching, might already have overtaken him. javis, on perceiving his departure from the feast, followed at a distance, in hopes of offering consolation; but conrin seemed to avoid him. at length, javis came up with him. "have i done aught to offend you?" he said, "know you not, that i would die an hundred deaths for your sake? then, why do you thus shun me?" "oh, speak not thus," answered conrin. "yes, you are good, you are kind, you are brave; and grateful, deeply grateful, am i, for all that you have done for me; but i can give you no reward." "i seek for no reward, but would comfort you," said javis. "you cannot comfort me. i have brought my misery upon myself; and on you, my kind friend, i have brought danger and hardship; nor know i how you may escape from them. for myself, i care not; my grief has no cure." "quit this vain hope. you still may have happiness with one, who loves you truly," answered javis. "while my life endures, never will i quit the country that holds the young chief selem. think you, i would leave him when a career of glory is opening out before him? i love to gaze upon his noble form, to hear his words, though spoken to others. if he fall, i shall not survive him. now leave me, kind javis, and forget the wrong i've done you. hark, what loud shout is that?" the revelry still continued with unabated ardour. the green was covered with gay and happy dancers. alp was to lead the last round with his sweet zara, and then they must part, though soon to meet again. the song, the laugh, and the cheerful sounds of the musician's strains, filling the forest glade, gladdened the hearts of all; when a shriek arose from the women, and a terrific yell like the cry of demons resounded through the woods. before the youths could draw their swords, a fierce band of savage horsemen were upon them. some of the affrighted maidens fled, shrieking through the groves; others stood paralysed with fear, clinging to the arms of their protectors. the banqueting tables were overturned, as the pursued and the pursuers rushed across the glade; the bright sparkling wine flowed on the grass, mingled with the red blood of the combatants, as the young warriors bravely rallied to withstand the overpowering attack of the fierce followers of the khan khoros kaloret; for he it was who led the band of marauders. his eye had singled out one fair object for his prey, as he fought his way to the spot; she was struggling to escape from the grasp of one of his followers, who had seized her round the waist, to lift her on his horse; when thaddeus, escaping from those who had attacked him, rushed forward, cleaving the savage's shoulder to the arm. he had scarcely time to save his mistress from being crushed by the weight of the falling body, ere the khan fiercely set on him, endeavouring to regain possession of his prize. alp had thrown himself before zara, at the first onset of the foe, repelling all who attacked him. he bore her in safety towards a party of their friends, assembled round the aged chief, who were keeping the horsemen at a distance to protect the women. leaving his bride under protection, he collected a few men, and hastened to assist a small party fiercely beset by the tartars, on whom he set with such energy, that they were compelled to fly; but only to return with fresh fury to the attack. in the mean time, the khan, finding ina snatched from his very grasp, threw himself on thaddeus, with his whole force, hoping to bear him to the ground. thaddeus eluded his first onset, placing ina on his left side, and parrying with the greatest difficulty, the repeated and furious strokes aimed at him by the khan. he retreated fighting, as he bore his mistress to a place of safety; when a heavy blow from the khan's sword brought him on his knee to the ground, though he saved his head by a timely guard. a second stroke from his opponent's sabre would have cut him down; but ina threw herself before him, arresting the khan's arm, ere his sword descended, giving thaddeus time to recover his feet. "foolish maiden, you shall not save your lover a second time," exclaimed the khan, attempting to seize her, though the movement was nearly fatal to himself; for so furious a blow did thaddeus make at him, that he was obliged to relinquish his hold, to parry it. "fly, ina, fly! now that you are safe," exclaimed her lover. "i will keep the savage chief at bay." but ina moved not from his side. at that moment, a fresh troop of tartars galloped to their chief's assistance. thaddeus began to fear that his defence had been futile; when alp, with a few other youths, bravely threw themselves in their way. in a different division of the grove, many of the festive party had been overthrown at the first surprise; but others, drawing their weapons, and placing themselves back to back, fought so bravely, that they gave time to their fair partners to escape; and so well did they hold their ground, that they fully occupied the greater part of the khan's followers; thus preventing them from going to their chiefs assistance; pursuing them so actively whenever they attempted to answer his reiterated summons, that the tartars were again obliged to turn and defend themselves. yet the youths, however brave, wearing only a light gala costume, and having no weapon of defence but their short swords, could scarcely withstand the furious attacks of their fully equipped enemies, for whom victory, at first wavering, was now about to declare, when the war shout of the atteghei was heard; and a small body of fully-armed warriors broke through the grove, led on by selem, who fiercely attacked the first body of tartars he met, and drove them before him. his arrival turned the fortune of the day. several of the young men flew to the house to seize their arms, and to mount their steeds tethered in the neighbouring thickets. selem, fighting his way up to the spot where thaddeus was still defending ina, compelled the khan to retreat, foaming with rage. the events we have here described took place in a few minutes, ere the revellers, scattered in all directions, could assemble; when the old chief, having collected them, as also his serfs, and other retainers who panted with indignation at the audacious outrage committed on his territories, and at being unable to reach the perpetrators, led them against the enemy in so determined an array, that he compelled the tartars to desist from the attack, and to seek their own safety in flight. at the same moment, a party of the young warriors returned on horseback, to fight on more equal terms; when the khan, seeing that any further attempt to gain possession of those he hoped to capture was hopeless, called to his followers to retreat, leaving several of his band dead on the field; for so flagrant was this attack, that, as any fell, they were cut down without mercy by the circassians. the defeated tartars, furious with their disappointment and disgrace, hastily retreated, hotly pursued by the active circassian youths on foot, and by selem and a few others, who were mounted; but it was hopeless for the pedestrians to overtake them, and the horsemen were too few in number to be able to retaliate with success. the horses of selem and his followers were fatigued; he, therefore, with alp, urged their friends to return to arm completely, and mounting fresh steeds, to follow after the daring khan, and take ample vengeance for the outrage he had committed. a few, already mounted on fleet horses, now set off to follow at a distance, tracking his course to bring back word what route he had taken. when at a little distance, the scouts saw the khan's party rein in their steeds for an instant, and seize two persons on foot, and carry them away. they were traced towards the kouban, in the direction of the newly erected russian fort; one of the scouts returning to give the information. the young warriors hastened to their homes to arm, and to follow kaloret khan. alp, who was one of the first prepared, took a tender farewell of the weeping zara, and instead of then making her his bride, was compelled to pursue the foe. when selem called for javis, he was nowhere to be found; and as he passed ina, now with the other women assembled together, and recovering from their terror, he also missed conrin. no one had seen the boy. he called for him through the grove. he answered not. "oh my brother!" cried ina, "allah forbid that he has fallen among the slaughtered ones! for worlds i would not that poor boy should be slain." they searched among the dead throughout the wood, expecting every moment to see his pallid features; but he was not to be found. there was wailing and weeping through the grove, which had late resounded with the sounds of merriment and song. the soft green turf, where the feet of the young and beautiful had a short time previously so joyously trodden in the dance, was now defiled with dark red pools of blood. several youths had fallen, cut down by the tartars on their first onset; and their female friends and relations were mourning with loud cries and lamentations over the loved ones so barbarously murdered by those whom they had ever looked upon as countrymen. as selem and thaddeus were prepared to start, one of the scouts returned and reported what he had seen. "it must have been conrin then," cried ina. "his sad forebodings have been fulfilled, and both he and javis have been carried off by the khan. oh haste, selem, haste, my brother! follow that cruel chief, for he bears away one who loves you more than life itself, who has sacrificed all for you. i may not say more; but for your own sake recover poor conrin at all risks." "fear not, dear ina. we will overtake the khan, and wreak our vengeance on him," answered selem. several other horsemen now coming up, he and thaddeus took a fond, but hasty, farewell of ina, and set off in pursuit of the khan. though some of their horses were of good blood and speed, yet every one of the khan's were picked from the fleetest he possessed, having fully calculated on the necessity of a rapid flight; so that he kept a head of his pursuers. none of the villagers of the hamlets, through which he passed, were prepared to offer him any impediment, ignorant also of his errand. furiously and desperately he rode along, for he well knew that he had not the remotest hope of mercy should any party of the circassians, outnumbering his own, succeed in overtaking him, and with equal eagerness was he pursued. nothing stopped his savage band in their course; they swam their horses across the most rapid streams, leaped terrific chasms, galloped down the steepest hills, and urged their steeds up almost precipitous rocks. all the remainder of that day, did they continue their headlong course. the night stopped them not; for a few minutes, they sought repose for their horses; but the sound of their pursuer's feet struck their ears: again they urged on their almost falling steeds; blood streamed from their flanks; foam covered their mouths; their eye balls started wildly; but still on they went. it was death to tarry. their pursuers caught sight of them--it was a race for life and death, captivity, perhaps death; or freedom for the poor page. they gained the forest which clothed the mountain, looking down upon the russian fort; they dashed through it, they flew along the plain; and, as selem and his friends gained the brow of the hill, they saw the traitor and his band enter the gates, at which they were received as friends. "alas, my poor page and faithful follower," exclaimed selem; "captivity or death, will be your lot, if we cannot rescue you; but that we will do, or perish in the attempt. what say you, thaddeus? will yonder russians attempt to inflict any injury on my two followers? they cannot be such barbarians." "i fear they will," answered thaddeus. "remember the fate i so narrowly escaped; i know well the baron seeks to make some terrible example of all whom he can claim as deserters." "but he cannot surely call those youths, deserters, who have never born arms for russia," answered selem. "he will call them whatever he pleases, now that they are in his power," said thaddeus. "we must, at all hazards, endeavour to recover them," exclaimed selem. "i know not scarcely how, but that young boy has so entwined himself round my heart, that i would not lose him for worlds. he is a truly noble youth, full of warm and ardent feelings. should his strength of body prove equal to his spirit, he will one day shew himself capable of great deeds; but one will wear out the other, i fear. the subtle essence will overcome the grosser matter." anxiously did the small band of warriors look down upon the russian fort, but it would have been worse than madness to attack it with their fatigued party. keeping, therefore, within shelter of the trees, they watched until the lights twinkled in the camp, and the watch-fires blazed around. some proposed making an attack, endeavouring to take the enemy by surprise, and so to carry off the prisoners in the confusion; but, though alp was eager to lead it, even selem opposed the plan as too rash. the only feasible scheme seemed to be to hasten to the camp on the ubin, and there raise a sufficient force to attack the fort with some chance of success. without waiting to consult further, the young warriors turned the heads of their weary horses towards the ubin, where, on their arrival, they excited the indignation of the assembled chiefs at the atrocious outrage committed by the khan. the hadji, on seeing his son, embraced him. "what, my brave alp, have you left your pretty zara, ere you made her your bride to assist your friends, and for the chance of a little fighting? mashallah! you are well worthy of her, and she will love you all the better for it. i am proud of you, my boy." the old warrior was himself delighted at an excuse for attacking the enemy, as he had begun to fear that there would be no more fighting that year; and he eagerly exerted himself in gaining volunteers for the enterprise. arslan gherrei, for his son's sake, persuaded many knights to join him, besides his own immediate followers. nor was alp idle in collecting his friends among the wild sons of the chiefs, always ready for any daring exploit; so that, in a few hours, more than two thousand horsemen were ready to depart. selem strongly urged that no delay should take place, for fear of the cruelty which the russian general might inflict on his prisoners. procuring fresh horses, therefore, the band of gallant cavaliers set out for their exploit; one that it would have been madness to attempt, except for the known incomplete state of the fortifications, which gave them hope, by a sudden onset, of leaping the unfinished trenches, and taking the garrison by surprise. volume , chapter ix. three days had passed since the baron galetzoff had received the visit from the treacherous khan khoros kaloret; and he was now eagerly expecting his return, with his clansmen and prisoners, when he began to suspect that the chief had played him falsely. as each successive hour passed by without his coming, his anger proportionably arose. he was also under constant dread of an attack from the mountaineers, though, as yet, he had seen few signs of them. the troops were busily employed in digging trenches, throwing up embankments, and finishing the fortifications. oxen were dragging in cartloads of provisions, or fodder for their horses. officers were riding about, and superintending the men. a strong detachment were sent out, flanked with cannon, and a body of cossacks to cut down timber for the palisadoes. others also were employed in cutting grass, and bringing in wood for fuel. sentinels were posted in every direction, advanced guards were sent out, and the soldiers worked at all times with their arms by their sides, for they knew not at what moment the dreaded mountaineers might break through the covert of the wooded height, and, with a cloud of cavalry, might come sweeping by them like a whirlwind, ere they had time to form their ranks. their heavy artillery, loaded to the muzzles with grape shot, were pointed in every direction; and many an anxious eye was cast towards the mountains, in expectation of seeing the glittering arms of the foes about to rush down upon them. towards the close of the day, as the sun was sinking low on the marshes of the kouban, throwing a bright warm gleam of light on the rich brown-tinted foliage of the trees, the outer guards rushed in with the intelligence, that the enemy were upon them. the drums beat, the bugles sounded, and the whole force flew to arms, as the sun-beams glittered on the armour and swords of a band of mountaineers, who were seen issuing from the woods, and galloping at full speed towards them. they were about to receive the new comers with a shower of grape, when count erintoff stopped them, as the band seemed to consist of but a small number. "they are friends," he cried; "harm them not." and as he saw the khan, he galloped out to meet him. before him on his horse, the khan bore a light form, wrapped in a cloak; when the count, eagerly expecting to behold the beautiful features of the circassian maid, was much disappointed, and enraged to find only the young page, conrin. "how comes this, khan?" he exclaimed; "why, you have left your chief prize behind! where are the other prisoners you promised to bring with you? the general will have but little cause to thank you for your zeal." "i could bring only these," answered the khan fiercely. "i have been baffled and defeated in all my attempts, but i will yet have my revenge. take these two prisoners; they are giaours, by their looks. kill them if you will, but ask me no questions." "we must be content then with the prize you bring us; and may soon find more occupation for you," replied the count. "but how did you not succeed in bringing off the lady?" "i have before said, ask me no questions," replied the khan, angrily. "take these prisoners, and kill them if you will." "we are not likely to disappoint you, khan, for if we do not get their master by their means into our power, they will be shot to-morrow;" said the count. "i care not. their friends have given me trouble enough; and had not your general insisted on having them, i should have killed them myself, as i did many others," replied the khan. the baron being informed of the khan's arrival, was expecting him in his tent. the barbarian was therefore at once conducted thither by the count. "where are the prisoners you promised to bring?" said the baron, looking sternly at him. "i have brought but two, who are in the hands of my followers;" answered the khan. "who are they?" asked the baron, eagerly. "the page, and a frank follower of selem gherrei," answered the khan. "ah, i must see them immediately," exclaimed the general. "khan, you have not fulfilled my expectations; but you shall be welcome. you and your followers shall be cared for here at present, until i can assign you lands in whatever part of the neighbouring country you may choose." with a haughty salutation, and a discontented look, the khan left the tent. "let that proud chief be well watched," continued the baron, as he departed. "see, that none of his followers quit the camp. i do not trust him, even now. had he brought off the chieftain's daughter, we should have had a hold upon him; but he may now again escape us. colonel erintoff, you have lost your mistress." "i owe the barbarian a grudge for the disappointment," answered the count. "you may soon have an opportunity of revenging yourself on him," said the baron. "but, now to business. let the prisoners be brought in, and i will see what i can make of them. stay, and assist me." in a few minutes, a file of soldiers conducted javis and the young conrin to the door of the tent, with their arms bound. the baron ordered them to be brought in, when the soldiers retired. javis looked round him with a firm and determined air, fearless of the presence in which he stood. the poor page was wearied, and bruised with his rapid journey, and attempts at escape; but a fire glowed in his eyes, as he gazed at the baron and the count erintoff, while a smile of scorn and defiance played round his lips. "stand forward, boy," said the baron, addressing him sternly. "what induced you to leave your native land, and join the hordes of these barbarians?" "my own good pleasure," answered conrin. "know you not, mad boy, that, by so doing you have broken your allegiance to the emperor, and are guilty of treason?" said the baron. "i owe allegiance to no man," returned conrin, firmly and proudly. "i have full right to go where i will." "you are a subject of the emperor, boy; and as such, i find you living among his enemies," said the baron. "know you not, that i have power to treat you as a traitor?" "i am a subject of no ruler under heaven," answered the page; "but full well do i know your power." "you speak foolishly; but i pity your youth, and would be lenient with you," answered the baron. "if you would be merciful, then," said conrin, still with a curl on his lip, and in a slight tone of irony, "let me go free. i am but a youth, and what harm can i do to the mighty power of russia?" "what say you, count, shall i let this innocent boy go free?" said the baron, sneeringly. "well you seem to agree with me! now, listen, boy; you shall be at liberty to go where you will, even to return to the mountains, if you wish; but on one condition. you follow a master, it seems, who led you among those barbarous hordes of savages, for which you need owe him but little gratitude, as he has been the means of placing you in your present danger. i will not conceal from you, that your master is an arch-villain and traitor to russia; and that i am anxious to get him into my power. now, boy, you may be instrumental in forwarding my views; and if you will undertake to obey my orders, you yourself shall not only be pardoned, but shall be richly rewarded. what say you to my proposition? do you consent?" it was difficult at first to determine what emotions filled the boy's heart, at hearing this proposition. the brightness of his eyes increased, and a bitter smile played over his features. for a minute he stood confronting the general, and appearing to seek for words to give expression to his feelings. "man," said he, "commander of thousands! go seek, among the slaves who obey you, one who has betrayed his master, and send him to me, that i may learn a lesson from him, and know, in future, how to mark the features of a villain. compare his with mine, and see if they are alike; and then say if i am likely to accept your noble offer, if such is to be the price of my liberty. it is useless speaking more." "boy, you are foolish," said the baron, endeavouring to soften his rough voice to a tone of kindness, and to bend his features into a look of benignity. "what i ask of you, hundreds in like position would be found to do for slight reward. it is not a difficult task that i wish you to perform; and if you do it not, others will be found who will, and your master cannot escape me. all i desire of you is to entice this young selem gherrei near the fort, where i will place an ambush to capture him. think you i would injure him? no!--it will be but for his own benefit, as it will rescue him from those barbarians, and restore him to civilised life. and for yourself, i promise you a rich reward. you may stay and join the army, or i will find you a safe conveyance to your own country and home. think well upon the offer which i make you." young conrin threw a look of scorn at the general, turning his eyes slowly towards the count, and with almost a laugh of derision, he answered-- "a noble offer, truly; could you but read my heart, you would see how great is the chance that i should accept it. think you that to gain wealth, all people would become villains? that all men have a price, to be bought and sold? i pity the wretch with such philosophy. none but those with bad hearts could think so. no, no; such base offers are thrown away if made to me. give me but liberty, and i shall be grateful." "once again, boy, i make an offer such as is not my wont," said the baron. "i know not how it is, but i feel compassion for your youth, and would not harm you if you would obey my wishes. you shall go free, free as the air we breathe; on this condition, you must persuade your master to come, and i will promise you he shall receive no harm; for, in spite of all his offences, i would wean him from the cause he advocates, and bring him over to the side of russia." "no!" answered the page firmly. "were you to offer boundless riches, honours--such honours as you can bestow--were it even to place him on a throne propped up by tyranny, i would not draw him from the path of glory he follows now, fighting for his country's cause, though his home is but a humble cot on the mountain's side." "but suppose, boy, i offer to gain for him rank and fortune, and to restore him to a civilised life far from these scenes of war and bloodshed. will not that promise tempt you?" the page seemed to penetrate to the inmost recess of the baron's mind, so piercing a glance did he cast at him, as with scorn, still dwelling on his lip, he answered, "no; i have said before, my master values such things less, far less than honour. did i think he would accept your offer--and well i know he will not--i could not trust you, general! you would impose upon my youth and innocence; but you are mistaken." the baron's brow grew dark as night; his voice almost trembled with rage as he became convinced that his attempts to persuade the youth to obey his wishes would be fruitless. "hear me, mad boy!" he exclaimed. "you ask for liberty. do you hope to gain it? never! obey my orders, or death and torture alone await you. you talk of leading a peaceful life; count erintoff, before whom you stand, observed you at the mezi, following your master in the strife. twice were you seen to slay the emperor's soldiers; you fought in the ranks of the rebels. that is enough alone to condemn you to death as a traitor to russia. think not to escape by a specious tale of innocence, nor hope for pardon on account of your youth. you were old enough to wield your weapons well. you will be condemned to die to-morrow." "i have said before that i would not do the deed you ask; no, not for all the riches of the east," answered conrin firmly. "and for my life, i do not value that so much but that i can laugh your threats to scorn. then do your worst upon me; i am prepared to meet your vengeance." "mad obstinate boy!" cried the baron furiously, "your doom is sealed. i will examine the other prisoner. remove the youth." at these words javis, who had stood with a stern glance regarding the baron, sprang forward in spite of his fettered hands. "stay, general," he cried earnestly; "you know not what you do. be not thus cruel. this seeming page is--" "javis!" exclaimed conrin, "speak not a word of me, i charge you. swear to me that you will not, for i can soon escape their tyranny. i would die unknown to all, but to you, my true and faithful friend. as i have lived, i am prepared to die. swear that you will not betray me to mortal soul;" he hesitated. "i command you swear, or, even now, as you well know, i have the means; you shall see me this moment die at your feet." "i swear to obey your wishes; but oh, save yourself. a word would do it," cried javis. "never! i fear not death half, half as much as life within the power of these men," exclaimed conrin. "boy, i give you still another chance. let not sleep o'ercome you till you have weighed the offer i have made, or it may prove your last," said the baron, as conrin was led off. as may be supposed, the general could not elicit a word of information from javis, who evaded every question which was asked of him, until the baron grew furious. the same tempting offers were made to him as to conrin, but he repelled them indignantly. "i will not turn a traitor to my master," he said; "but i will serve you faithfully if you will save that boy's life; or if you will take mine, i will give it joyfully for his. you know not whom you kill." "if you will obey my wishes," said the baron, "not only will i pardon the boy, but i will load you with wealth, such as you never thought before to have." "oh mighty spirit of my fathers, guard my heart!" ejaculated javis. "no, it cannot be; not all the offers that you make me can cause my purpose to alter. yet you cannot be so base, so cruel a tyrant, as to slay that young and harmless boy." "slave, do you speak thus to me?" exclaimed the baron. "think you that you have any hopes of escaping death? if so, you are deceived. you, too, shall die. think well upon my words, and mark me. the boy dies first while you are standing by. to the last moment, his life shall be in your hands. if you would save him, consent to obey my wishes. ere mid-day comes to-morrow he shall die, and your death shall follow. think well on what i say. obey me, or never hope again to see the sun go down. lead him away," he cried to the guards without, "and keep him separate from the other prisoner. well, count," he said, turning to that officer, "how think you i have managed with these traitors?" "admirably, baron," answered count erintoff. "yet i never saw so much obstinacy displayed. i think you have worked upon them to comply with your wishes; and, by their aid, i still have hopes of capturing young selem gherrei." "i know not," said the baron; "there was a fierce stubborn look in that boy's eye i scarce could have expected from one so young; but perhaps the gipsy, who seems to have a most romantic affection for him, may, for the sake of saving him, obey my wishes. but if he does not, i swear no power shall save them. to-morrow morning early, they must be tried: we know the verdict. go, count, and make arrangements for their trial. i would be alone." we must hope, for the sake of human nature, that the general would, in his cooler moments, have altered the determination he had expressed; though the atrocious barbarities which that man was guilty of towards his circassian prisoners, when any, faint or senseless from their wounds, fell into his hands, would repress any charitable construction of his motives, and ensure only our hatred. conrin was removed to a rough small hut of logs, which had lately been erected to serve the purpose of a prison; but it had, as yet, no occupants, owing to the constant employment of the soldiers which kept them from committing any faults. the ground was unbeaten, ends of branches projecting from the sides, and a log being left at one end to serve the purpose of a couch or seat for the prisoners; but as yet it was not even hewn smooth. conrin was thrust in by his guards, and then left to his solitary meditations, with some black bread and almost stagnant water; not worse fare, perhaps, than the soldiers themselves were obliged to submit to. he threw himself on the rough log, deep sobs breaking at times from his breast; while, with hands clasped in agony, he turned his eyes towards heaven, as if imploring aid. "no! no! hopeless is my lot! i am forsaken by the mighty spirit! and thus to die without the slightest chance of one fond look on him for whom i have sacrificed all on earth! then the bitter anguish to feel he knows me not; or, if he knew, perchance would spurn my love. death-- annihilation would be better far. no, he shall never learn the truth. and yet i would that he should know how true and firm a heart mine was; and then, when i am reduced to the ashes from whence i sprung, perchance he would cast some fond regret upon my memory. oh! did i think that he would love me, the very joy would make me laugh at death. but thus to die!" the sobs of the supposed page were renewed. he started, and strove to suppress his agitation, for he heard steps approaching. it was now midnight--that time when the feelings are the acutest, the nerves most easily excited; when the thoughts strive to wander o'er the regions of boundless space to search out things mysterious and inscrutable; when the spirit often seems to quit the bonds of this our living mortal frame, to visit ideal regions. it is not the spirits of the dead, which long have flown to other realms we wot not of, which mortals fancy oft they see, but their own yet earthly souls are worked into fever by some potent and subtle influence when the vivifying power of the sun has been withdrawn. conrin listened earnestly. "ah! well i know that foot-fall! oh! mine enemy, hast thou found me? even now i feel his baneful influence, like that dark spirit who roves about to seek for prey. the bigot fools need not have decked him with other attributes than those of mortal man, when foul passions gain the mastery over him." "who goes there?" shouted the sentry at the door of the hut. "your colonel," answered the deep tones of count erintoff's voice. "stand there, and turn not till i call you." after which words, conrin heard the door of his prison open, and, by the light which faintly streamed in, he beheld the tall form of the count, who, closing the door, placed a lanthorn he carried in his hand on the ground, so as to throw its rays on the features of the prisoner. the page rose not, spoke not, but remained in the attitude in which he had been sitting, with his hands clasped together, and his head bent down. the visitor surveyed him earnestly ere he addressed him, meditating apparently on what he should say. "i am come to give you liberty and life, instead of the death you so madly seem to seek. think you i know you not? when yon dull sottish bear, the general, was questioning you, i knew you by the glance of those expressive features, that haughty brow, that lip curling in proud disdain. think you a boy would have stood undaunted before the furious rage of yonder overbearing baron, or would have returned him word for word and glance for glance? you played your part but ill just now, whatever you may have done before to deceive (if so you have) the youth you followed to circassia. can he be so dull, so hard of heart, as not to recognise the maid who loves him? by heavens, i do believe his wits so dull, his heart so careless of those charms which drove me near distracted at their loss, that he has not yet discovered you; and loves you not, basking, as you humbly look on in the senile character of a page, in the bright smiles of some of those mountain beauties." with an hysterical cry, the girl, finding further disguise was useless, exclaimed-- "begone, base villain. what demon prompts you to come hither to torment me?" "nay, nay, my pretty page," said the count, approaching her, "i would not wound your feelings for the universe. i merely spoke what i know to be most true. i ask you why, for one who loves you not, you would sacrifice your life, and throw away all the bright offers that i have made you, and which i would fulfil? oh! it would be a cruel thing to let those charms, which have enchained my heart, mingle with the dust, to leave this bright and joyous world so full of pleasures, (to those who have the sense to find them) to go you know not where. i do not ask you to betray the man you loved. i am not fool enough to think you would do so, until you should be convinced that he despises you; though i believe that haughty rebel, young selem gherrei, as he is called, cares not for you. but fly hence with me, and i can easily deceive this brutish general. i offer you wealth and happiness, a bright and glorious future, where such charms as yours will far eclipse the proudest beauties of the capital. believe me, i am not so dull a fool as not to appreciate that bright and soaring spirit--that proud undaunted soul--which raises you above your sex. i am not scrupulous as fools would be. i love you more myself, now that i know your heart is capable of so much feeling; and i would make it all my own. then come, loved girl. this instant you shall be free. a few days more will see you on your road to russia, where wealth, luxury, and happiness, await you." the count approached yet nearer, and attempted to take the girl's hand. "man!" she exclaimed--"if you are not rather the incarnation of the evil one, begone. come not to torment my heart, already almost broken. know, then, that luxury and wealth are things i despise almost as much as him who offers them; and as for happiness, i never in this world shall know it again, nor have you the power to give it me. begone, and leave me to myself. you stir not. then if you will not obey my commands, but still have a soul that can be influenced by prayer, oh! hear my earnest supplication, and leave me to myself." "what madness makes you utter words like these?" said the count. "think well of what you throw away, and of the dark fate which awaits you. the baron vows--and well i know he keeps his oaths when prompted by cruelty and revenge--that you must die to-morrow; and no mortal power but mine can save you. a word from me would rescue you. fly with me. ah! if you refuse, think not the man you love will benefit by your sacrifice; for here i swear that i will pursue him with the utmost rancour to avenge your death, of which he has been the cause. he has crossed my path before, and ere long i trust to see him in my power." "you move me not by fear of any harm you can do him," answered the girl calmly. "he is above your malice, and would despise your vows of vengeance." "if not for his sake then, save yourself for your own," exclaimed the count. "think how you will die, disgraced, unknown till after you have ceased to breathe; and then you will be a thing for savage soldiers to pass their brutal jest upon. oh, why this madness? let me save you from yourself, and fly with me." the proud count knelt at her feet, and again endeavoured to take her hand. "see," he exclaimed, "i kneel to you to beseech that you will let me save you from cruel death and contumely." the girl then shrinking back, "begone, i say, again," she cried. "believe me, i despise you far too much even to seek your pity." the count sprang to his feet. "know then, wilful girl," he exclaimed, "that nothing shall save you. your cruelty will change my love to hate; and though i still might save your life, i shall not rest until i see you die. none shall know that count erintoff has humbled himself in vain. there are yet some hours to dawn. think on my vows, and promise to obey my wishes. a word of yours would win my love again; else, before the sun mounts highest in the sky, you will have become a cold and senseless clod. i leave you now." the girl answered not, but looked disdainfully on the count as he retired. then, sinking on the hard log, she placed her hands before her eyes--to shut out something dreadful from her sight. a terrific struggle seemed to take place in that tender, that loving, bosom, as if the agitated spirit were about to burst its tabernacle; but it passed, and she was calm--so calm that it seemed she slept. volume , chapter x. the morning came, the glorious sun rose undimmed by clouds, and nature wore a face of gladness; the birds sung sweetly from their leafy coverts, the refreshing dew which sprinkled the herbage, and the autumnal-tinted leaves, sparkled brightly. a light mist, rising from the lowlands, faded away, and left the landscape more clear and lovely from the contrast. the prisoners were led forth from their places of confinement. their trial commenced. undauntedly they stood before all the highest officers of the garrison. several soldiers declared that they had seen them fighting on the side of the enemy. neither of the prisoners would answer a word to the interrogations made to them. their sentence was passed. death was recorded. their guilt was clear, nor did they deign to sue for pardon. as their sentence was pronounced, javis sprang forward with an imploring look towards the president, and was again about to utter some exclamation; but a glance from the supposed page stopped him, and, dejectedly he stepped back, turning a troubled and anxious eye towards his companion, though he seemed perfectly resigned to his own fate. the baron hurried over the proceedings with brutal haste; and the prisoners were ordered forthwith to be led from the camp and shot as traitors to russia. they were conducted from the tent where the court martial was held, between a file of soldiers, walking as firmly and composed as if they had forgotten that a few minutes more were to be their last. the fort, as we have before said, was erected on some elevated ground, at a short distance from the mountains, rising like an island from the plains and marshes of the kouban. the intervening space between the fort and the mountain, was one uninterrupted meadow, unbroken by rocks or inclosures. the spot selected for the cruel execution, was on a green slope reaching from the entrenchments to the plain facing the mountains; and here a body of the troops were now drawn up while the remainder continued at their labours digging the entrenchments, and erecting the requisite buildings for barracks and store houses, in preparation for the coming winter. at a short distance from the fort, a foraging party in compact order, accompanied by artillery and cavalry were seen marching along the plain, from the direction of the kouban, unaware of the execution about to take place. the baron had sternly commanded the count erintoff to lead the troops destined for the execution, though it seemed that he would willingly have escaped the office; but he was compelled to obey: and he now stood at the head of his regiment, drawn up in line on the green slope we have described, the firing party a little in advance of the other troops. the general himself stood at some distance on the newly raised embankments of the fort, pacing to and fro, with a dark frown on his brow, and his eyes glancing restlessly around. as the young prisoners were led out from the fort, they passed the spot where he stood. he commanded the party who guarded them to halt, and bring them before him. the disguised page wore the same stern look as on the previous day; but a brighter almost supernatural foe burned in her eye as she met that of the general. javis advanced boldly with a firm tread and perfect composure; but as he turned his looks towards his companion, his features would become convulsed as if some pang of agony passed through his frame. "prisoners," said the baron, "you have but a few short moments to live; but, even now, i give you a chance of escape. obey my orders, and i promise to pardon you. to you, boy, i speak first. will you do as i wish?" "never!" answered the page in a deep firm voice. "i am prepared to die." "then lead him on," cried the baron furiously. "you, perchance, may have more wisdom," he continued, addressing javis, "than yonder obstinate boy, who brings his own fate on himself. will you save, not only your own life, but his?" "i would save his life on any terms," exclaimed javis; "but he would be the first to blame me. for my own, i value it not. but, oh! spare him, general, spare him for his youth alone. ask him not to do that to which he cannot consent. you know not what you do in slaying him. spare him, as you hope for mercy!" "lead off the audacious rebel," cried the baron furiously. "let the boy be shot first," he added, addressing an officer who waited his commands. "i can gain nought from him; and let his companion witness his fate: perchance it will bring him to reason." there was not an officer in the camp who would not, if he could, have saved the lives of those youths at this moment; but none dared speak; even the dull soldiers felt tears spring to their eyes. the wild khan, who was on horseback in company with a troop of cavalry, looked on with astonishment; and, as he witnessed the noble bearing and bravery of the prisoners, even he repented that he had brought this untimely fate upon them, until he remembered that it was by the hand of one of them that his brother fell. but of all the party the count erintoff seemed the most affected. his countenance was as pale as death; he dared not turn his eye towards the prisoners. he felt himself to be a wretch cursed by heaven; a cold-blooded murderer, instigated by the basest, the blackest revenge. the prisoners had reached the fatal spot, and the youngest was placed upon the ground, while javis was led aside: they exchanged glances, but neither spoke. the supposed page heaved a deep-drawn sigh as she saw the glance of agony which the faithful javis--of whose death she was too truly the cause--cast towards her. a soldier advanced to bind her eyes. "no," she cried, putting the handkerchief aside. "i would look my last upon the bright blue heavens, to which my spirit so soon must fly. i can face death as fearlessly as the oldest-soldier present. let my eyes at least be at liberty, to the last." the soldier looked towards his officer, who ordered him to follow the prisoner's wishes, and he returned to the ranks. all was prepared. the girl stood undaunted; but her eyes wandered towards the mountains with an anxious glance. what does she see there? is it the sun which sparkles on the shining leaves of the forest? she stands entranced, regardless of her executioners; for a band of steel-clad warriors, their swords flashing in the sun like a foaming torrent, sweep downward from the mountain's brow. the wood is full of them. on every side they pour forth from amid the trees. at their head rides one urging on his steed at its utmost speed, and waving aloft his sabre. the eye of love distinguishes him from afar, before the russians, intent on the scene of execution, have perceived their danger. the prisoner uttered a cry of joy. "thank thee, great spirit, that i see that loved one ere i die!" she exclaimed. "yes! yes! i'll join you, in spite of these tyrants!" forgetful of her situation, forgetful of all but that he whom she loved was approaching to her rescue, she lifted up her arms to rush to meet him. it was the signal of her death; and javis, breaking from his guards, sprang forward and threw himself before her. at that moment the foraging party reached the fort, when a soldier rushed forward from the ranks to where the baron stood. "hold! hold!" he cried with fierce excitement. "stay the execution. barbarous chief! you know not what you do! stay, or you will murder your own daughter, who was carried off from you by the dwarf ladislau; she was placed in my hands for her mother's sake, a daughter of my tribe. know me as the gipsy conrad." the baron seemed as one who heard him not; he was astounded, and gazed wildly at the speaker. his faculties were paralysed; his limbs trembled. the precious moments flew by. he lifted his arm. "stay the execution!" he shrieked. but ere the words were uttered, the rattle of musketry was heard. the smoke hung like a funeral pall over the spot, as, rushing towards it, the fierce baron fell senseless near the slaughtered form of his daughter, the gipsy girl, azila; and by her side lay the body of her humble, devoted, and despised lover, javis. the alarm was given that the enemy were upon them. there was no time to retreat to their entrenchments. fast and furious came the mountain horsemen. the drums beat to arms, the soldiers rushed to man the guns, and to seize their weapons. the troops drawn up outside wheeled to receive the shock from the furious charge of the foe, the cavalry advanced to meet them; but they were like reeds bent beneath the tiger's spring. men and horses trembled at the wild war shriek. none could withstand that desperate onset; and the first, the foremost who fell, was the traitor khan, cut down by the sword of thaddeus. "a well-timed blow, brave pole," cried the hadji, as he swept by to charge the russians. "thus die all traitors to circassia!" close to him was selem, encountering the sword of count erintoff, who shouted, "ah! we have met at length? traitor to russia, yield!" "heaven defend the right!" cried selem, parrying his blow. their swords flashed quickly round, and in a moment the count fell mortally wounded from his horse. the hadji, alp, and many other chiefs, and their followers rushed on the bayonets of the infantry. "ah! allah!" shouted the old warrior, "we'll cut through that wall of steel. onward, men of atteghei!" so terrific was the onset that the two foremost ranks of the russians trembled, wavered, and fell back on the rear, as the dauntless warriors approached them, driving the others in hopeless confusion, cut down by the circassian sabres, and trampled under foot by their war-steeds. "ah! allah!" again shouted the hadji. "follow me, my son, and we shall soon be within their trenches!" and attacking those who alone stood their ground, followed by a dense cloud of horsemen, sweeping over their prostrate foes. the remnant of the russian cavalry had turned, and fled towards the entrance of their fort; but none succeeded in reaching it: the drawbridge was drawn up, the gates were closed. why does selem stay in his career of victory, his cheek blanched even amid the excitement of the combat? on the ground weltering in blood, he sees the slaughtered form of his faithful, loving page; he bends low from his horse, and lifts it in his arms. onward, onward rushed the mountaineers towards their hoped for prize; but as they mingled among the confused mass of flying infantry close to the trenches, a tremendous discharge of cannon saluted them. on friend and foe fell alike the crashing showers of deadly grape; and the ramparts were lined with bristling rows of bayonets. many of the gallant patriots fell beneath the devastating fire in their career of victory. "turn, turn, my noble friends!" cried the brave chief arslan gherrei. "it is madness to be exposed to this iron storm. we can never take the fort on horseback." at the word, the dense troop swept round. a horseman, in the uniform of russia, seized selem's rein, and urged on his horse, while thaddeus, on the other side, joined the retreating circassians. before the guns could be reloaded, they were beyond their range. the mountaineers halted in the confines of the forest. selem sprang to the ground, endeavouring to staunch the blood which flowed from many wounds in the breast of his page. he tore open his vest; his heart turned sick with horror and grief as he discovered a woman's form. he leant over it with deep grief. the veil which so long had obscured them was torn from his eyes. he knew the features of azila. in a moment he read the history of her deep unswerving love, constant to the last through trials, hardships, and neglect. he felt her heart to discover if it yet beat. he tried to persuade himself that her yet warm breath fanned his cheeks; but it was in vain. a faint smile still lingered on her features; but no throb answered to his touch. the dark blood flowed slowly from the wounds; her heroic, her loving, spirit had fled; azila was dead! none of the chiefs, not even selem's father, approached him. they had witnessed the scene, and read the sad story at a glance. long did he bend, in deep agony, over that inanimate form. he was aroused by the russian deserter. "think you not, young chief, that i, too, have cause for grief? remember you not how i loved that fair and noble girl? do you not know me?" "yes, yes, i know you now, my friend," answered selem, recognising in the stranger the gipsy chief who had aided his escape from russia, the reputed father of azila. "you have, indeed, deep cause to grieve for your daughter." "except that she sprung from my race, she is not my daughter, though i loved her more than one. see, two of my race i have lost today most cruelly murdered;" and he pointed to the body of javis, which he had also brought off on the horse of one of the slain troopers. "she, too, murdered by her own father, though he knew it not till too late, when madness seized his brain; and yon poor youth, he also deserves our pity, for i know his deep, yet hopeless, love for azila, for whose sake he followed you." "what say you, my old friend?" said selem, rising from the ground whereon he had been kneeling. "by what strange fortune came you to learn so horrid a tale? and what wonderful chance conducted you hither at this moment?" "it may seem extraordinary that i am here; and yet such was the decree of fate, when first we met beneath my tent in russia. you were the unconscious instrument of bringing me hither; and yet, from the remotest period of time, this event was destined. the latest cause was this: it was discovered that i had aided in your escape from russia, when i and all my tribe, who could be found, were seized and condemned to serve in the ranks of the russian army of the caucasus. azila's history, i alone, with the dwarf ladislau, have known from her birth. he was another cause of these events. as you remember well, the baron always made him his butt, treating him with contumely, little thinking what deep feelings of hatred and revenge rankled in the bosom of the diminutive being. a lovely girl of our race, whose sweet voice enraptured the proudest nobles of moscow, won the haughty baron's heart; and, dazzled by his rank and wealth, she consented, at an unhappy moment, to exchange her liberty to become the slavish wife of a tyrannical master. she soon pined for her freedom, regretting the miserable lot she had madly chosen; and, as her husband's admiration of her charms wore away, he treated her with cruelty and neglect. yet jealous feelings, at the same time, possessed the tyrant's breast; and he began to look with an eye of suspicion on an innocent daughter she had just borne him. "the broken-hearted wife of the baron died; and ladislau, to revenge himself on his tyrant, brought away his child, and delivered her to me, making me swear never to reveal her history till his death, and that i heard of ere i left russia. to rescue her from a life of thraldom and neglect, i determined to keep her as my own daughter, bringing her up with all the accomplishments i could well find means to bestow. she became all i could wish in mind and person, wreathing herself round my heart as much as any child of my own could do; and when she once visited my tents, she seemed so to enjoy the wild freedom of our lives, that i could not again part from her, intending, however, on ladislau's death, to make her father recognise her, and restore her to her proper rank and fortune. when you came to my tents, knowing that you were not her brother, i hoped in some way, through your means, to accomplish my purpose; little thinking how deep was the love which had sprung up in the sweet girl's bosom for you." "blind and dull have i been!" exclaimed selem in a tone of anguish, "not to have seen through her disguise before; for now, when lost to me for ever, i feel how fondly i could have returned her love." he knelt again over her, and took her cold lifeless hand:--"my true azila, faithful to death! a hundred fold has your murder added to the debt of retribution i owe our tyrannical invaders. yes, sweet one, i again swear to avenge your death on every one of that cursed race who sets foot on the shores of circassia. bear witness, my friend, i sign my vow before as fair an image as nature ever formed! let this be the token! where the battle is thickest, there will i bear this silken lock." he kissed her pallid brow, and severed with his dagger one of her long black tresses, which he entwined through the links of his chain armour. he knelt over the bleeding form for some moments more in silence: he then rose, and extended his hand to the gipsy chief. "welcome, my friend, to the land i call my own. i may now hope to repay your hospitality." "if my services will be accepted, i have come to offer my hand and heart to the cause of the patriots. i should have remained a good subject of russia, if she had allowed me; but she will now find me and my tribe her mortal enemies; for i doubt not that all my people will take the first opportunity of escaping, when they hear that i am on the side of the circassians; and heartily will they all join in avenging that poor girl's death." "it was a barbarous deed," cried selem, casting an agonised glance on the pale features of azila, beautiful, even in death. arslan gherrei now approached his son; "let not sorrow take possession of your soul, my son, for the loss of that faithful girl. i, i too well can share your feelings; but shew yourself stern as a warrior among our countrymen. think not of grief, while we have swords in our hands to avenge our friends. that poor maiden shall have a befitting funeral, she shall be consigned to the care of ina, who, with her friends, will mourn over their lost sister." "you speak truly, my father," exclaimed selem, "no one henceforth shall see me shed a tear of joy or grief, till every hallowed spot of our loved country shall be freed from the defiling tread of the russian foot, or till the death-wound comes to send me to a warrior's grave." "my son, your words make your father's heart beat proudly," said the chieftain; "and worthy are you of our royal race. see, is not yonder sight enough to rejoice the breast of every foe to russia?" selem turned his eyes in the direction his father indicated, where the ground, in front of the russian entrenchments, was strewn with the slain; so rapidly and surely had the circassian sabres done their work among the panic-stricken ranks. few, if any, had reached the gates of the fort; for of those who escaped the first fierce onset, most had been mowed down by the showers of grape and rockets fired by their own countrymen. many of the circassians had fallen; but not one had been left on the field; every horseman seizing his comrade as he was wounded or slain, and bearing him on his steed from the ground. the band of warriors, assembled in the forest overlooking the fort, kept the garrison in a constant state of alarm; their swords and armour being seen amid the trees, when any of them approached the skirts of the wood. a council of war was now held. the hadji proposed attacking the fort again at once, rushing from their concealments, without a moment's warning to the enemy, and leaping the trenches on their chargers, in spite of the shower of grape they might expect. "mashallah!" he cried, "they should soon learn how little use their big guns would be, when we got at their tails, for they cannot kick as well as bite." even selem, generally cautious, as well as bold, eagerly seconded his old friend's proposition; and alp was employed in persuading most of his companions to accompany him. but the proposition was overruled by arslan gherrei, and the more prudent leaders, who considered the attempt would be madness; as, to their cost, they had already found the fort so strongly guarded with cannon; not one of their warriors having fallen, except by the destructive fire from the guns. it was at last agreed to storm the fort at a future day, when the garrison would be unprepared to receive them. selem, rousing himself from his grief, introduced the gipsy chief as the foster father of the slaughtered maiden, explaining to them his history. as there was now no further cause for delay, the band of warriors prepared to leave the scene of their exploit; the dehli khans rushing forward, and waving their swords as a parting salute of defiance to their foes. selem stood by the side of azila's corpse. the gipsy approached him. "let me take the office of bearing those remains," he said; "to you it would be too severe a task." selem offered no resistance, as the gipsy enveloped the body in his horseman's cloak, and placed it before him on his saddle. a follower of arslan gherrei carried the body of javis, in like manner; while thaddeus rode by selem's side, offering vain consolation to a heart so deeply wounded. after riding some distance, the party separated; some to return to the camp, and a few, among whom was alp, to accompany selem to the valley of abran bashi. volume , chapter xi. it was a sad and mournful train which returned to the valley of abran bashi, the scene but a few days before of the bridal festival and of joy. selem had sent to announce his return to his sister, with an account of the sad catastrophe which had occurred. as the cortege approached the house of the chief, she, her woman, and the other females of the hamlet, came out to meet them; and into their hands the remains of the slaughtered azila were committed. the gipsy approached selem, who, after embracing his sister, had sauntered through the grove to indulge in his grief unseen. "young chief," he said, "where shall my poor child be buried?" how sadly, how harshly did those words grate on selem's ears! how many unutterable thoughts of anguish and regret do they summon to the mind of all! the closing for ever of some loved object from our view--the sad reality of death, before only looked on as a remote object! "would she not wish to lie in some secluded spot, where her spirit, that had been sorely troubled in this life, might be at rest?" "my friend," answered selem, "there is near here a grove sacred to the one great spirit we all adore, whatever may be our religious creeds. none approach that spot with irreverent or light feelings, and there shall azila rest." "such would have been the spot she would have chosen," answered the gipsy. "and by her side we will place poor javis. he well deserves to be near her, for he might yet be alive, had he not thrown himself before her to receive the shot." "he was truly faithful to the last," said selem. "and yet it was a happier fate for him to die. but, my friend, speak no more on the subject. we must soon again haste to the exciting scenes of war, which, as men, befit us most. know you where the people of your tribe are stationed, that we may endeavour to assist them in escaping from the foe? they will be received by my countrymen with open arms, and you may resume your former habits of independence, and your free mode of life. you will find here no tyrannical laws to restrict you, if you conform to the simple habits and customs of my people; and you may again become the chief of your tribe." "that can never be," answered the gipsy. "my tribe are broken and dispersed; though the few who may escape from russian thraldom, will obey me as of yore. but where are our women and children? where our cattle and our tents? i and my people will serve under you. where you go, we will go; and we will be faithful and true to you, until death." "i could not wish for a more faithful follower than poor javis proved," answered selem. "and i fear not but you will be equally true to me. thus, gladly do i agree to the compact you propose." after walking some way, side by side, a low and plaintive melody, wafted through the grove, reached their ears, and, returning, they found a a group of veiled maidens standing round an open bier, on which lay, as if reposing in a calm sleep, the body of azila. once more, ere the earth closed over her for ever, she was clothed in the garments of her sex. a white veil was fastened to her hair, and lay on each side of her pale face that looked like some beautiful piece of sculptured marble. her hands were joined on her breast, on which a rose was placed; a white robe enveloped her form, while flowers, fresh picked from the groves and meadows, strewed the bier. the maidens, with ina weeping at their head, bore the body along, singing, in plaintive tones, a low dirge; while an aged minstrel, who preceded the train, chaunted, at intervals, to the sound of his wild harp, an account of her death. a band of young men followed, carrying the body of javis, wrapped in his winding-sheet, on an open bier; and at the end of each verse, they joined their voices in chorus to those of the females. next followed selem, thaddeus, and many others of the youths and maidens of the village, who had the day before been performing the same sad office to those who had fallen in the conflict with the khan. when the mourning train reached the sacred grove, where the graves had been already dug, they found the most venerable elder of the valley waiting their arrival; and, as the bodies of the two young beings were placed in their last resting-place, he offered up prayers to the great spirit for a quick translation of their souls to the realms of bliss, and a happy immortality; in which pious supplication the assembly all reverently joined. the graves of the deceased were placed side by side beneath the shelter of an overhanging rock that projected from the steep slope of the mountain. two trees bent over the spot, entwining their boughs above. a small slab of stone was placed at the head of each grave; and on the trees the maidens hung chaplets of wild flowers. the stranger girl sleeps calmly in her early and bloody grave; nor has her name departed from the memory of the mountaineers. her romantic history and sad fate are recorded in their songs, and chaunted among their many wild and melancholy ballads, for which, alas! they have but too many subjects. those who came to perform the funeral ceremony were gone, and our hero remained. he thought alone, by the grave-side of her who had so deeply adored him, and whom he, too late, had learned to love. he heard a gentle sob; he looked up, his sister was beside him; he took her hand, but did not speak. the last time he had attended a funeral was when their mother was buried; and her dying injunctions recurred to him more forcibly now that his heart was softened with sorrow. selem hitherto had felt that he was wanting in one of the great requisites, enthusiasm in the cause of religion. he had never indeed thought deeply on the subject; and how could he, when engaged in a bloody and revengeful war, be a follower of a creed which indicated peace and good-will towards all men? had he not sworn never to sheathe his sword while a russian remained in arms near them? how could he indeed hold up to the example of his countrymen a religion professed by foes, who were engaged in openly breaking every precept it commanded, by the unjust and exterminating war on the liberties of their country? he knew that they would laugh his lessons to scorn, when he had no better reasons to give them than those he could advance; and that they would despise him for his infatuation in proposing a creed which allowed its professors to act as their enemies did towards them. he felt, however, that his sister would not be swayed by these considerations, when she heard that it was the faith in which their mother died; and that it had been the last wish of her heart, that her daughter should adopt it; so that he had strong hopes, with such a foundation, of convincing her of its truth and beauty. he knew not, indeed, how powerful an advocate of his cause he had in thaddeus. his only hope, with regard to his countrymen at large, rested on the fact that christianity had been at some period, however remote, the faith of their forefathers; that its emblem still remained venerated by them in the land, and that they were imbued universally with a strong feeling of respect for their ancient customs. its great opponent, islamism, had gained but a weak footing in their minds; and they were more likely to adopt a faith which they would consider better founded, if they could be convinced that it was the belief of their ancestors, and that its very symbols still existed among them. selem took ina's hand, and walked some way in silence. at length he said-- "i have much to communicate to you, and may have but a short time for the purpose; for i know not how soon i may be called upon to offer up my blood as a sacrifice to the liberties of our country; and gladly would i suffer death if one so dear as you were to be benefited by it." "oh! talk not of death, dear selem; the very thought breaks my heart," cried ina. "have i but just found you to lose you? the noble spirit of our father would sink beneath so great a blow." "do not grieve, dear sister! thoughts of death will not bring the dreaded tyrant nearer; nor, if we persuade ourselves that he cannot reach us, will the vain hope shield us more securely from his unfailing dart. i spoke but as every warrior must feel, when he sees each day his friends cut down at his side; but it makes him not the less brave or daring, though he knows that it may be his turn to fall the next. but i wish not to die; and for your sake, my sister, may heaven grant me a long life, and reserve my humble efforts for our country's cause! but, ina, the subject on which i would speak to you is not of death, but of life. i bring you a message from our lost mother, which i have too long delayed delivering. you, her unknown babe, whom she confided to my care, if i could succeed in discovering you, were in her thoughts to the last." they had reached the cross before described, in the grove towards which selem now pointed. "know you, ina, why, and by whom, yon cross was placed there?" "i have scarce thought why," she answered. "perchance by our fathers, before allah and his prophet were known in our land." "yes, it was placed there by our fathers, doubtlessly," answered selem; "but as a symbol of a pure and holy faith, from which their children have widely departed. it is the symbol of a faith in which our mother died, in which i was nurtured, and in which she charged me to instruct you." "what!" cried ina. "are there more faiths than that which, a short time ago, all in the land believed and the faith of mahomet--by which i thought we could alone gain paradise?" "indeed, ina, there are many strange creeds in the world," answered selem; "but one only is pure and true. it was established long before mahomet promulgated his doctrines; and far, far different are its tenets from his. he, indeed, took truth for the foundation of his religion, acknowledging the great, the immutable, all-powerful, all-seeing being, whom our countrymen also worship with a belief in a hereafter. but on that foundation, he built up a superstructure, composed of falsehoods as gross as they were improbable, forming his tenets to please the wild hordes over whom he sought to gain power. his aim was conquest. he promised a quick translation to the realms of bliss, to those who fell fighting for him; and his paradise he pictured as the utmost enjoyment of sensual pleasures, such as his followers most prized on earth, awarding to you, the fairer portion of the human race, the same place of abject subjection which he would make you submit to in this world. to forward his great aim, personal aggrandisement, he preached extermination to all who would not embrace his faith, or, in other words, obey his rule. he found that women did not assist him in his aims; and he, therefore, pretended that they were formed to be the abject slaves of man's will. "this, dear sister, is the religion which the turks have sought to introduce into our country; and already have its baneful effects been felt. now mark the difference of the religion of the cross. it inculcates peace and love to all men. it pictures a heaven of bliss, unutterable, free from all the base and sensual passions of this life, pure, eternal. it makes woman man's helpmate, his companion, his adviser, his equal. it gives birth to all the nobler feelings of our nature. it purifies love, it sanctifies marriage, it exalts courage, and it produces friendship unselfish and firm." "all! what a beautiful religion must that be, my brother!" cried ina, her eyes beaming with fervour, and the colour of her cheeks heightening with animation. "i have often wondered that a great spirit, whom men call just and good, should have formed one half of his people to be the slaves of the other; but now i see that it is not that he is unjust, but that man has become usurping and bad. oh! i can never again believe that mahomet was a true prophet!" "ina, your words delight me," cried her brother. "i find my task almost accomplished when you speak thus. man is, indeed, wicked; and the great spirit, seeing this, sent one from heaven to teach him a pure and holy code of morals. christ so loved mankind, and grieved for their sins, that, notwithstanding his power, he allowed himself to be slain on the cross, by those whose wicked customs he came to overthrow. his worshippers have, therefore, made use of that sign to remind them of him who died for their sake; and in this very grove, on the spot on which we now stand, have our fathers bowed the knee in adoration of that benignant being." "oh, my brother," said ina. "how i love to hear you speak thus, for i feel and know that your words are those of truth!" "i believe them," answered selem. "and much i wish that not only you, but that all our countrymen, would adopt the same creed. it would prove a surer and more trusty bulwark against our foes than all foreign aid. knowing our cause to be just, they would have a firmer trust in the god of justice. it would make them cease from inflicting injuries on each other; for it teaches us to treat others as we would ourselves be treated. it will enlighten and add firmness to their minds, for it will banish superstition or dread of evil omens. it will give combination and strength to their councils, for they will have confidence in each other, being bound together in one brotherhood as they would be. it will enable them to bear reverses with fortitude; for they will consider them as inflictions kindly sent from above as a punishment for their sins; and it will temper victory with moderation, as a boon granted from heaven to be received with thanksgivings and praise to the great giver." ina was thoughtful for a few minutes. "but tell me, selem," she said at length, "how is it that the cruel urus, from whom you have learnt this religion, act as they do? how is it that they attack our country, murdering and destroying those who have never done them any harm?" "you have urged an objection, which i anticipated," replied selem; "but it does not follow that a religion is false, because its _mere_ professors do not act according to its injunctions. it has a far, very far, different influence on its true believers. the religion of the cross is not the less true, because men, calling themselves its followers, are wicked. among the russians it has been so debased and altered, so overwhelmed with superstition and priestcraft, that it has sunk into a contemptible and absurd idolatry. the gospel inculcates a simple, pure, and moral rule of life, easy to be understood and followed. such, ina, is the religion i would teach you, and in which i was myself instructed by a good and enlightened man, who had kept his own mind free from the gross errors and superstition of those who surrounded him. the injustice of this war, which the russians are waging against us, is indeed no argument against the religion i speak of; for it has too frequently happened, that men in power act in direct opposition to its tenets. they send armies to ravage countries, destroy cities, and commit atrocities of every kind, without the slightest compunction; nor think themselves at all the worse worshippers of a mild and forgiving faith; each individual holding himself irresponsible for the acts of the whole. thus a people, who consider themselves the most civilised and religious in the world, may be guilty of crimes to be equalled only by those perpetrated by the wildest hordes of barbarism when their interests or passions are excited." in that calm retreat did the young circassian chief unfold to his fair sister the truths of his religion; and, as her artless mind began to comprehend them, she clasped her hands with gratitude, that so beautiful an institution had been formed for the benefit of the human race. "oh my brother," she exclaimed, "little did i think, when my heart beat with joy at your return, that you would also bring me so precious a gift. what a new, what an extended view of happiness, you have opened to my thoughts! oh, do not leave me, selem, till you have taught me all i can learn, as i would not, for worlds, now lose that religion. it seems like some valued jewel of price, which, till secured to me, i should every moment be in fear of having snatched from my grasp. and does thaddeus, does your friend also believe in this religion?" "indeed, i trust he does, dearest," answered selem. "but it is long since i have spoken to him on the subject. ah! here he comes to answer for himself, i see him wandering through the grove, lost in meditation." the growing darkness prevented the speaker from seeing the deep blush which this announcement called up on his sister's cheek. thaddeus started with pleasure, as he beheld his friend approaching, and saw by whom he was accompanied. "here, my friend," said selem to him, "i have begun a task, in which i trust you will aid me (avoiding all the intricate and foolishly disputed points) by teaching our faith to my sister." "gladly i accept the office, and deeply interested i am in the success of my instruction," replied thaddeus. "but, my friend, i have been longing to unbosom myself to you of a secret, lest you should accuse me of deceit or treachery." ina felt her heart beat quickly, from guessing the words which would follow. "speak, thaddeus, what is it you would say," said selem, taking his sister's hand. "selem, my friend," replied thaddeus, "to you i owe my life and all i now possess; but, though deeply grateful, i would ask still more of you. i have your sister's leave to speak." selem felt ina's hand press his. "from the first moment i saw her, i felt i would die rather than cease to love, or learn that she no longer loves me. will you sanction and aid us in our hopes? or, if not, deliver me again into the hands of the russians, from whom you rescued me." "my friend! my brother! your words give me joy indeed," exclaimed selem, "believe me, that i will aid to the utmost the wishes of the two beings most dear to me on earth. but, remember, we have a father to consult; though he, i doubt not, will give his daughter to one, without whose aid he would have lost her entirely." "oh, i know he will," cried ina. "for he dearly loves me." "our father, ina, is as good as he is brave; and it shall be my grateful charge to plead your cause with him. i will tell him, that my friend is of a noble and princely race, who were chiefs in their own country before russian swords overwhelmed them. as for wealth, we want it not here. we have abundance for all." thus conversing, those three young beings sat beneath the trees of the sacred grove, till the rising moon warned them to return home. in the fervid climes of the east, smiles and laughter succeed tears and grief, as rapidly as sunshine follows the showers of spring. life is more full of excitement and danger; the pulse beats quicker; the passions are more easily aroused, whether of sorrow or pleasure. there is, perhaps, more to enjoy in life; but it is held by even a more frail tenure than in the colder regions of the north. on the following morning the inhabitants of the anderoon were in a state of great agitation, while old kahija bustled about to array zara in her bridal vestments; for her betrothed was anxiously waiting her arrival at his father's house. the old nurse, with tears streaming from her eyes, was busily employed in enveloping her in a long white robe, fastened at her head; which, when drawn round, completely concealed her figure. "my dear ina," said the blushing girl, "alp yesterday evening was persuading me to leave you. he says that he must soon return to that horrid warfare, and that his mother is anxiously waiting me at his home. he will be alarmed if i do not come; he used many other arguments, till i consented at last, in spite of all my kind nurse's persuasions to the contrary." "it will make me sad to lose you, dear one; but it would be wrong to disappoint your brave alp's mother," said ina, smiling and kissing her cheek. "so you must yield to your fate: a dreadful one, indeed, to become the wife of so wild and handsome a youth as alp!" "i wonder when young ali bey will be here. alp said that he would come early; but i dread that terrible gallop to his home." "we will go to the gate and see if he is coming," said ina. "are you ready, dear one?" zara signified that she was prepared for the worst that could happen; so the two maidens sallied forth followed by old kahija. they had not long to wait when the young bridegroom galloped up, attired in his bravest suit, followed by a gay and gallant train. they reined in their steeds at a short distance; when, all dismounting, he alone respectfully advanced, and courteously saluted the two fair girls, drawing his sword as he knelt at zara's feet, and swearing solemnly to protect her, for his friend's sake, with his life. then, after she had bestowed an affectionate kiss on ina and on old kahija, he lifted her, with the tenderest care, before him on his steed, and galloped off towards the domain of hadji guz beg. "ah me! she is a sweet flower," sighed old kahija; "i shall long mourn her loss. but what makes me most sad is the thought of the interruption to the marriage feast. it is a bad omen, and i like it not. ah me! ah me! i never knew good come of such things. and so melancholy a funeral but yesterday! and then the brave youths who were killed at the wedding feast by the fierce khan and his followers! mark me, there is something more dreadful coming still;" and she retired into the anderoon to indulge in a flood of tears. perhaps ina might have followed her, had she not promised to meet thaddeus and her brother, about that time, and she trusted soon to enjoy the same happiness which she hoped would be zara's lot. volume , chapter xii. the vast concourse, which we have described as assembled on the banks of the ubin, had long since dispersed to their homes, disappointed at having performed no great exploit, though they had made several daring attacks on the russian troops, with severe loss on both sides. the short, but rigorous, winter had now thrown its hoary mantle over the northern provinces of abasia: the plains of the kouban appeared one vast sheet of dazzling whiteness, here and there dotted, in the far distance, by the dark forts of the russians. the trees, so lately covered with the rich and varied leaves of autumn, now seemed like some fabled grove of silver, in a scene of enchantment, decked with strange and fantastic splendour, crystallised by the frost. a deep and solemn silence reigned on the wooded heights which overlooked the plain. not a bird was heard to sing in the groves. here and there might be seen the footmarks of some beasts of prey, as they crossed the mountains to seek for food in the marshes. the kouban, whose waters in summer afforded the chief defence of the russians against the well-provoked aggressions of the mountaineers, had now become an even and clear sheet of ice, every day, gaining consistency and strength. the invading army, suffering from the inclemency of the weather, had retired into their winter quarters; and the circassians, trusting also to the imprisonment of their enemies by the cold, had withdrawn the greater number of their guards and scouts. they had determined not to be the aggressors, but to endeavour to convince their enemies that they fought only for liberty and peace. a general calm seemed to pervade the whole country, which had so lately been startled by the fierce storm of war. the warriors enjoyed their short repose till the returning spring should again let loose the swarms of their now pent-up foes. they passed their time among their families, in tending their farms, or in the invigorating sports of the chase. selem was enjoying some days of relaxation from the toils of war, at the house of his aged kinsman, in company with thaddeus and his sister. he was delighted more and more with the unsophisticated, but quick and varied powers of her pure mind, which every day was enlightened by the conversation of her lover. how delightful was the task to the young pole, to instruct the fair creature he soon hoped to call his own! many of the inhabitants of the valley, indeed, wondered that two such gallant and daring warriors as selem and his friend had proved themselves, could find pleasure in passing their time with a mere girl. "allah!" they exclaimed, "what odd customs they must have learned among the giaours!" they were interrupted from their studies by the entrance of the little slave, buda, announcing the arrival of the hadji guz beg. hastening to the guest-room, they found the old warrior, clothed in complete warlike costume, and attended by his son alp, who had torn himself from the arms of zara, to accompany his father-- "rouse up, my son," he cried. "gird on your sword, and let your heart rejoice, for we have in hand work that may be worthy of us. those cursed urus are not content with our remaining quiet, but they must enter the country, and burn and destroy our villages. mashallah! we will repay them with a vengeance. i have messengers from many chiefs, who are assembling their followers, and now that the ice affords us a bridge, which the enemy cannot easily destroy, we will make a foray into their territories, which will give them a lesson to respect ours." "wherever you lead, my friend, i am ready to follow," answered selem. "mashallah! i doubted you not," cried the hadji; "for see, we have no child's work on hand now. there will be no drawing back this time." "what do you propose doing, then?" asked selem. "no less than an attack on the town of kislavosk," rubbing his hands with the glee of a youth at the thought of a foray. "these russians, we hear, have collected whole herds of cattle in the neighbourhood, for provisioning their fortresses along the valdi caucasse, and think that they have them secure enough; but we will deprive them of their dinners, if i mistake not." "i would rather have some more noble work than merely carrying off a few head of cattle," said our hero. "ah, when you have lived longer among us, you will not despise such work," cried the hadji. "what do armies in general fight for? to get gold and silver! are not cattle, to hungry people, of much more value, and more difficult to carry off? men are too fond of making absurd distinctions where none exist. the russians call us robbers, because we take a gallop into the country they have usurped, and carry off all we can meet; and they affirm that they themselves are engaged in lawful warfare when they burn and destroy our villages and fields, because they possess a regular army, with cannon and ammunition, while we have only our good steeds and sharp swords. such ideas are absurd. the giaours will some day become more enlightened and civilised. we shall, however, have fighting enough to please you, my young friend, for think not that these urus will lose their food quietly. no, no, they will fight hard enough for that; but we will be too quick for them. and, my friends, we have no time to expend in talking." "i will soon be ready to attend you," answered selem, taking his arms from the walls, and ordering karl to prepare his horse for the expedition. thaddeus followed his example, though much loath to leave his mistress; but he had so completely leagued himself with his circassian friends, that he had no further excuse for holding back. he himself was also excited by the prospect of gaining the further applause and confidence of those, in the success of whose cause he had become so deeply interested. alp was in the most extravagant spirits, notwithstanding his regret at leaving zara at the thoughts of a foray, on a more extended scale than any in which he had hitherto been engaged. the prospect of the renown he should acquire under his father, and also the hope of gaining wealth for his fair bride, were further incitements. "mashallah!" cried the hadji; "we shall carry off cattle enough to supply the whole of abasia for a year to come." ina trembled with alarm when she heard that her brother and her lover were to leave her, on so hazardous an expedition; having cherished the fond hope that they would remain in safety all the winter. but she remembered that she was a circassian maiden; and, recommending them to the care of heaven, she parted from them with a tearful smile, and a prayer for their speedy and victorious return. they repaired, before they set out, to pay their adieus to their old host, who had, for some time, been confined to his couch through age and infirmities. "farewell, my son," he said, addressing selem. "before you return, i may be gathered to my fathers; for i feel that i have not long to remain among my people, though i had hoped to have seen my country restored to peace ere i died. but i commend to your guidance a body of my choicest youths, whom i have ordered to be ready to attend you. i am now alone the last chief of my race; my sons have offered up their spirits as martyrs to their country's cause. i, too, would have thanked allah for the glorious privilege of dying on the field of battle as becomes a warrior-chieftain; but that blessing i can now never hope for. when i am gone, you, my son alp, will be chosen by the elders of my people, as the husband of my only child, to succeed me as their leader; that is, when you have gained sufficient age and experience. till then, the noble chief, arslan gherrei, will lead them to battle; and you, selem, as a son of our race, i charge to watch over and guard their interests; for on you, next to alp, would have devolved my possessions. rule them justly and firmly, and they will faithfully obey you." the young men promised religiously to obey the old chief's injunctions. "farewell, my sons," he said; "i feel that you will not betray the trust. and now my only hope is, that i may live long enough to see you return victorious from this expedition; and may allah guard you in it!" as the chief had promised, our hero found, on leaving the house, a gallant troop of fifty young and hardy horsemen, fully equipped, ready to obey his commands. every man carried provisions at his saddle-bow, sufficient for several days, considering their abstemious habits when engaged in warfare. they were clothed in coats and caps of skin, wearing over their shoulders thick large cloaks, impenetrable to wet or cold. their rifles and pistols were well protected from the rain at their back, and they had daggers and long sabres at the waist. both the hadji and alp were clothed much in the same manner over their chain armour, and with selem and thaddeus, who were also arrayed in their winter gear, they set forward at the head of the troop. the appointed place of meeting was in a valley within the last ridge of mountains before the caucasian range descends into the plains, near where the kara river, rushing through a narrow and rocky defile, finds its way into the kouban. in that direction they turned their horses' heads, proceeding steadily and slowly forward, so as not to fatigue their steeds, and to keep them in the finest possible condition for the exploit. at the end of each day's journey, they received a warm and cordial welcome at the house of some chief. through every village and hamlet they passed, their band was increased by numerous volunteers, all eager to share the promised spoils of the foe. on reaching the heights, commanding the valley appointed for their place of rendezvous, a warlike spectacle broke on their sight. from every quarter, bands of warriors were seen emerging from the forests, troop after troop following each other in gallant array, winding in long lines, amid the rocks and trees, down the steep sides of the mountain, and uniting in the valley in a close body. their banners gaily fluttered in the breeze; their weapons shone brilliantly in the rays of the sun, and increased in lustre as they were reflected in the snow; their loud and joyous shouts resounded through the air. as the hadji and his party rode to the ground, he was received with loud acclamations of welcome, and his standard was planted as one of the chief leaders. other bands, during the remainder of the day, continued to pour in on all sides; and soon after, arslan gherrei, at the head of a fine and warlike troop, arrived in the valley, and selem hastened to greet his father. as the champion rode up, mounted on a superb and powerful black charger, he was welcomed on all sides by enthusiastic acclamations, most of the independent bands arraying themselves under his especial banner. the hadji seldom aspired to the entire command of an army; preferring his own desultory and impetuous style of fighting to the responsible and arduous duties of a general. he prided himself most as a leader of bands engaged in a kind of guerilla warfare. the seraskier, or commander-in-chief, who had been chosen as the leader of this republican army, was a chieftain far advanced in years, though still retaining all the vigour and activity of youth. of renowned courage and sagacious conduct, and trained to arms in egypt from his boyhood, he had, since the commencement of hostilities, been engaged in constant warfare with the enemy, by whom he was much dreaded. he was of commanding height and sinewy frame nerved by violent and unremitting exercise; his features were bronzed by exposure on the burning sands of africa, his white locks escaped from beneath his plumed helm. he rode in the midst of a group of chieftains, who eagerly gathered round him for instruction and advice. it was with a glance of proud satisfaction, that the veteran leader looked round on the bands of warriors drawn up in the valley, who had so promptly obeyed his summons, issued only a few days previously, and thus so nobly answered. it was, in truth, a fine sight, as the aged hero reined up his steed, waving his hand to request silence. surrounded by all the chiefs and leaders of this little army, he thus addressed them-- "my noble friends, chieftains of the atteghei, we have this day again assembled in arms, roused by the reiterated, and unprovoked attacks of the urus. seeking alone to enjoy peace and the undisturbed possession of our country and of our liberties, we have refrained from acting as the aggressors on those territories claimed by our foes, though unjustly wrenched from our hands. who, among us here, has not suffered innumerable wrongs and unbearable injuries at their hands, since their dark eagles first hovered over the confines of our lands? they have burned our hamlets--they have cut down our corn--they have trampled over our rich pastures--they have carried off our cattle; and yet those are injuries which may be replaced. but how many of our bravest warriors have fallen in defence of our country and our liberty! who, among us here assembled, but has lost a father, a brother, or a son? still do the cries of our women ring in our ears for their loss. where can we replace them? can our enemies restore the lost ones? how often have those among us, whose homes are in the neighbouring lands, been aroused in the darkness of night by the roar of their cannon, and, with scarcely time to save their lives, and those still dearer to them, have been driven to the mountain fastnesses, whence they have seen their habitations and their goods committed to the flames! what redress have we but deep, deep revenge? are we slaves, are we armenian kaffirs, to submit to these insults? no, my countrymen, we are gallant warriors, descended from a long line of princes, and of nobles; who have never bowed their necks to the yoke of slavery, who were chiefs and conquerors long ere the wolf-like flocks of the urus broke through the regions of the north, to seize the rich and smiling lands which surround us. shall we then allow them for a moment to suppose, that weary with our protracted struggle, we also are prepared to swell their list of conquests? shall we act like the weak and effeminate georgians, and tamely submit to be dragged in chains to the foot-stool of their czar? shall we consent to see our children led to slaughter, among the slavish ranks of their army? shall we see our wives and daughters carried off as worse than slaves? shall castles and towers be built on every mountain's brow, throughout the country, to awe the people into subjection; for thus only could they hold the lands of the atteghei? we have set them lately an example of moderation, but they would not profit by it. let us now give them a lesson, that may not easily escape their memory. let us remind them that we have not forgotten how to offer a severe retaliation for injuries; and let us shew them that we are a nation of warriors, who fear not their force, mighty as it might be, and that we despise their innumerable hosts of slaves. then onward, my countrymen, onward men of atteghei, and may allah prosper our arms!" this oration of their veteran leader was received with sincere expressions of approbation by the chiefs, and with acclamations of applause by the dense mass of their followers who formed an outer circle round the orator. "remember, my countrymen," he resumed; "that the urus call us uncivilised barbarians and robbers. let us shew them that we have more humanity than they; that we know `the native rights man claims from man;' and that never will we defile our arms with cruelty. let us treat their women, as hitherto, with courtesy and kindness, to shew them that we war not against them. let us not stop to plunder the defenceless inhabitants of their stores except their cattle which we will drive away to deprive them of the means of remaining in our neighbourhood. let us confine our further efforts to capturing their cannon, their arms, and ammunition; for it is those we alone require to make our country impregnable to their attacks. follow these rules, strictly obey your commanders, and victory will be ours. i have done. by to-morrow's dawn, we will begin our march; and before the russians awake from their slumbers, we will be beyond their forts." again repeated shouts arose, and all promised to obey his injunctions. the seraskier then explained to the chiefs his proposed plan of operations. first, that the infantry who were composed chiefly of the peasants of the hamlets, nearest the kouban--sturdy fellows inured to border warfare--should be left on the further bank of that river to cover their retreat, if hard-pressed, and to secure the herds of cattle they might capture. that they should advance as far as the town of kislavosk, take it by surprise, with the greater number of the cavalry; or, at all events, endeavour to give full occupation to the russian troops, while the rest might drive off the cattle from the neighbouring country; and then, if victorious, and not pursued on their return, make a wide extended sweep, clearing everything before them. the sagacious general himself, as well as arslan gherrei, and a few others, would have preferred confining their efforts entirely to taking the russian forts, and endeavouring to carry off their cannon and powder; but they knew too well, that many of their followers would not exert themselves to the utmost without their holding out some prospect of a rich booty; and we must remember, that every man in the host fought without pay of any sort, finding his own arms, ammunition, and food; so that it was but natural they should wish for some recompense for leaving their occupations and farms at that inclement season of the year, besides the mere satisfaction of annoying the enemy. they all understood the necessity of defending their own territories when attacked; but to make a forage into the enemy's country without carrying off booty was in their ideas a folly: with the prospect of booty, all were ready to fight. upwards of six thousand horsemen were now collected, chiefly from one province alone; but among that vast concourse of wild warriors, at this exciting moment, the utmost order and decorum prevailed, owing to the courtesy of the chiefs, and the habitual sedateness of the men; though there was an entire absence of discipline and subordination throughout the whole host. having; received the directions and advice of the seraskier, the chiefs separated to put themselves at the head of their respective followers; to advance towards the kouban; and, bivouacking close to its banks, to give time to other fresh reinforcements of cavalry from the further points to assemble; while the infantry were to advance at once to the station they were to occupy, and be in readiness to assist the cavalry in the morning. at a given signal, the whole body then advanced a few miles towards the place they had agreed on for a bivouac; entirely dispensing with tents or covering of any sort, except their thick cloaks. as each troop arrived, they piquetted their horses to the low shrubs which grew about the plain, lighting their watch-fires, which blazed up in the darkness of night. for a long time fresh bands continued to arrive every instant, increasing the widely extended circle of flames, until the plain seemed dotted with fires as from some volcanic ground. the hardy warriors, wrapt in their cloaks, assembled round them listening to the songs of their minstrels, who never on such occasions failed to join their bands, and cheer their spirits. round one fire, wrapped in thick horse-cloaks, sat the champion, arslan gherrei, with selem, thaddeus, the hadji, and several other chiefs. "now, my son," said the old warrior, hadji, "to-morrow you will have a field worthy of your bravery, and honour your father by your deeds. where the thickest of the fight is, there let your sword be waving amid the ranks of the foe. by example alone, can we expect our followers to be brave; and those nations quickly become slaves to their neighbours, whose chiefs hang back in the combat. it is only by being ready to sacrifice our own lives, that we can secure the liberty of our country; and how much better is it to be sent to the realms of paradise, than to eke out a few more years of existence, with the galling chains of the slave! but i fear not for you, my son." alp rose and took his father's hand. the act was unpremeditated, and scarce consciously performed; he knelt by his side. "father your son shall not disgrace you." the words were simple, but there was a deep tone of feeling, which showed that he would keep his word. he took no oath, nor called the gods to witness his words; and his father was satisfied. at length, one by one, the party sought a few hours' repose, wrapped in their cloaks with their feet towards the fire, and their heads pillowed on their saddles. the clear sky was densely spangled with myriads of brilliant stars. ere selem slept he looked round on the scene. far as the eye could reach, the wide heath was covered with the recumbent figures of the warriors; yet a moment would call them all into fierce activity, should the russians draw nigh. yet though they seemed so calm to the eye, who could know the fiery thoughts and passions working in the brain of the sleeping thousands? even now, many in imagination were engaging in the onslaught of the morrow. oft did the image of ina return to thaddeus, as he slept. his thoughts then flew to his far distant home, the abode of his childhood, the proud castle of his fathers, now laid low by the hands of his country's oppressors. he saw the eagle of russia hovering over the slaughtered bodies of his countrymen, while captives knelt in chains, bound to the staff of her standard. in the midst of them appeared a warrior of majestic front and noble bearing, one who had never bent the knee to despotism. as he waved his sword, the chains fell from the captives' necks, the dead arose, and the eagles fled shrieking from the land before the resuscitated band. again the scene changed. he stood once more before his paternal castle, with ina by his side. his faithful dependants welcomed him with shouts of joy. he brought them glorious news. russia had been stopped in her headlong career of victory. she had retreated before the gallantry of a mountain nation. poland might again be free! volume , chapter xiii. "to horse! to horse!" was shouted about two hours before dawn, and, in the course of a few minutes, all the warriors of that little army were in their saddles, formed in close array under their respective leaders, and advancing steadily forward. the ground over which they rode was broken and rough, offering many impediments to their progress; as in darkness and silence they crossed the kouban. "onward, men of atteghei," cried the seraskier, waving his sword; and at the signal the whole band dashed down the steep, passing a broad belt of lofty reeds ere they emerged on the now smooth and hard surface of the stream. the infantry, who were already posted on the other side among the thick cover of reeds, reported that none of the enemy had appeared, or seemed at all prepared for their approach. the cavalry, in condensed bodies, then rode boldly forward at a quick trot, encountering for a long distance merely a few peasants with their cattle, who were quickly sent to the rear, some light bodies being thrown out on each side to see that none escaped and to give notice of their approach to the enemy. the hearts of all beat high, and their eyes flashed with excitement and pleasure, as the walls and houses of kislavosk, seen by the pale light of dawn, met their view. a cry of joy escaped them, as they urged on their steeds at full gallop towards the devoted town. the outer picquets had no time to give the alarm, ere they were cut down; and onward dashed the band through the streets, the guards at the entrance making but a feeble resistance to their furious onset. the inhabitants, roused from their slumbers, looked amazed and trembling at the wild horsemen. on all sides the russian troops were called to arms; but before they could assemble in sufficient numbers to repel the assault, the cattle, which the circassians found assembled in great numbers, were driven off, and a magazine of powder and arms was stormed and ransacked. then, like a whirlwind, the whole force again swept through the town. the inhabitants were spared; but little mercy was shewn to the soldiers who attempted to form their ranks. the town, which a few minutes before was wrapped in fancied security, was now a scene of tumult and bloodshed, as the mountaineers fought their way through the broad streets, affording slight shelter to the russians, who, ere they could bring their guns to bear, found their assailants beyond their reach; though they saluted them with a heavy fire from the fortifications. as the circassian rear-guard were emerging from the town, the russian infantry formed and charged them in line; but the horsemen, wheeling on a sudden, rushed on them, sabre in hand, with such fury that they were glad to retreat, losing many of their number on the field. the circassians, also, lost several men; but, as they were struck, they were lifted on their comrades' horses and carried away. the town might have been theirs, but they knew that they could not keep it for any length of time; and all the lower ranks of the circassian army were eager to advance for greater booty, notwithstanding the counsel of the coolest and most sagacious chiefs. however, they encountered no cavalry in the town from whom to fear pursuit; and they had nothing to dread from the infantry. onward pushed the band of mountaineers, passing through several villages, and sweeping all before them. their seraskier then urged them to return; as now, that the russians were alarmed, they might collect an almost overwhelming force from the neighbouring fortified towns to impede their progress; for, carried away with the ardour of the foray, the greater number thought of nothing less than pillaging every russian settlement on the borders. very unwillingly, therefore, they wheeled to make a circuit towards that part of the kouban they had already passed. alp beg had, during the day, constantly accompanied our hero and his friend, at the head of his troop, making, with them, several desperate charges on the russian lines as they had formed, and never failing in breaking them with his furious onset. at their return, as the main body, with whom at the time were selem and alp, were passing at some little distance from kislavosk, the hadji, who brought up the rear to the left nearer the town, heard from some peasants that they had missed securing several head of cattle, which were still at a short distance outside the walls. "mashallah! what say you, my friends?" cried the old warrior. "shall we let the giaours still have any beef for their dinners? let us shew them that they must not cheat us in this way. what say you, my friends; shall we pay them another visit? it will take us but few minutes." the proposition was too much to the taste of all parties not to be warmly seconded. sending, therefore, to the seraskier to intimate his purpose, and being followed by about five hundred horse, he made a headlong dash at the place the peasants indicated. the russians saluted them as they advanced with showers of shot and grape, while the troops sallied out to meet them; but nothing could stop the impetuosity of their onset, and they quickly liberated the cattle, driving them off at a greater speed than the animals had ever before accomplished. "well done, my friends," cried the hadji. "i told you we would spoil these unbelievers' dinners; and now, bismillah! let us charge them again," he added, as a large body of infantry met them. uttering loud cries, they charged the russians, driving the cattle among their ranks. the troops gave way, when they were again saluted with a tremendous flanking fire of grape; and, ere they had got clear from the range of the guns, a large body of cossack horse, who had that moment arrived from the neighbouring towns, met them at full charge. already had many of their number fallen under the fire from the town; but the old warrior hadji, undaunted by the overwhelming force of their new opponents, shouting his war cry, called to his followers to charge them. tremendous was the shock of the two fierce bodies of hostile cavalry, animated with the most bitter hatred, and excited by the fiercest rage; but the superior skill, agility, and courage of the circassians compensated partly for their inferiority in numbers. the cossacks were arrested in their course; while the mountaineers literally hewed themselves a road through their ranks. they discovered, however, when too late, that they had committed a dreadful error in so doing; for a fresh body of cossacks arriving from the same direction, they found themselves completely surrounded. the ground they fought on was a broad open heath, in front of the town, which gave full scope for the larger body of their assailants to bring their whole force against them. the main body of the circassians, with whom was alp and selem, on receiving the hadji's message, and on hearing the firing, wheeled to support him. the first of the band was the brave young alp, eager to join the affray, and assist his father. the hadji, with scarcely three hundred followers, was bravely defending himself against several thousand cossacks, shouting his war cry, cheering on his men to the attack, who wheeled and charged in every direction, keeping a complete circle in the midst of their foes, and placing their horses back to back in such close order that few of the enemy could get within the brave troop; or if they did, they were cut down by the inner ranks. at length, however, the cossacks seemed ashamed at being held at bay by so small a body, and charged them with renewed vigour, hoping to destroy them before the main body came up. great numbers of the circassians fell beneath this fresh attack; though the remainder fought on with yet undaunted courage. but even their gallant old leader looked out anxiously for the succour of their friends. they made many fresh, desperate, but unavailing, attempts to cut their way through, still the hadji fought on, shouting to his brave companions, and never for a moment thinking of yielding. "ah! allah! well done, my sons!" he cried. "well done, men of atteghei! see, the vile cossacks are thinning fast around us. we shall soon have a hill of their bodies to ride over. fight on, my men! our friends will be here anon; and then we shall see how fast these giaours can fly. charge, my sons! charge! ah! allah! here comes my noble son, my own alp. i knew that he would be the first to rescue his father." while shouting these cries, the old warrior had made such desperate charges with one or two followers, that the cossacks, partly opening their ranks, again closed before the rest could get up to them, thus completely hemming him in. his enemies, who recognised him as one of the most daring chiefs, pressed hard upon him, endeavouring either to make him prisoner, or to cut him down on the spot; when alp, the foremost of the advanced guard of the main body of the circassians, beheld his father's imminent danger. not waiting even to see who followed, the young warrior shouted his war cry, and dashed boldly at the foe, the foremost of whom gave way as they saw the gallant youth approaching. but a young cossack officer, seeing him advance unsupported, spurred on his charger, and fired his light rifle at the same time. for this movement alp was prepared; and throwing himself on his horse's side, the ball passed over him. in a moment his own gun was in his hand; he fired, but the cossack imitating his manoeuvre, escaped his aim. urging on their steeds their swords met, fast whirling round their heads as they were wheeling: and backing their horses. alp, seeing an opportunity, threw up the cossack's guard, endeavouring to seize him and plunge his dagger in his heart; but ere he could effect his purpose, a ball from his antagonist's pistol entered his horse's neck, and the noble animal fell mortally wounded to the ground. but alp was not overcome; disengaging himself from his horse in a moment, he sprung like a tiger on his opponent; and, striking him with his dagger, hurled him to the ground. then springing on his steed's back, and waving his sword, he stayed not an instant to cast a parting glance at his conquered foe, but led on his friends who had just come up. the father and son recognised each other amid the turmoil of the fight; when, again shouting loudly his war cry, alp urged on his steed amidst the thickest of the foe, followed by the few who owned the fastest horses, and fought his way up to his father's side, shielding him from the many blows aimed at him, and regardless of those he himself received. desperately did he strive to keep his foes at bay until his friends could come to his relief. the old chief was saved; but at what a sacrifice! the blood flowed from alp's side; his eyes grew dim; his head giddy; he could not see longer to guard off the blows of his enemies. selem, at the head of his brave troop, as he saw the predicament of his friends, charged the foe furiously, cutting down all who opposed him, or drove them off till he reached the hadji, who shouted his thanks as the last cossack disappeared between him and his rescuers. but why does alp not advance? oh! allah! where is he? alas! behold him now weltering in his blood beneath his horse's hoofs. gasping out his last breath, he thanks allah that he has saved his father. he pronounced, too, his loved zara's name. he is lifted on his horse; but his pulse has ceased to beat. the young warrior is no more. the old hadji seems like some aged oak scathed by lightning. he hears not the shouts of the combatants. his own voice is stilled. he knows not where they lead him. one thing alone he sees--his noble, gallant boy a corpse by his side. he mourns that he yet lives while the young and the brave have fallen. the main body of the circassians, now arriving, set furiously on the cossacks, whom they drove before them; but, pursuing them too eagerly, they again found themselves exposed to the deadly fire from the town, showers of grape falling among them, and cutting through their ranks with deadly effect. thus once more they were compelled to retreat. the russian infantry then marched out to support the cavalry, now again following the circassians, who, whenever the russians approached near enough, would suddenly wheel and charge them, thinning their ranks, and driving them to a distance. in this hazardous style of fighting, thaddeus had much distinguished himself, as well as in the principal charge, which he had made by the side of selem to the rescue of the hadji. as they approached the kouban, their own infantry coming up, the cossacks took to flight, and were pursued with considerable slaughter; but though it had been a day of victory, it had been a disastrous and dearly bought one to the circassians; many of their chiefs, and a great number of their followers having fallen by the destructive fire of grape, which had played on them from the batteries; though, in comparison, they had lost but few men in their encounter with the cossacks; so superior are they in horsemanship and the use of their arms. arslan gherrei rode up to the side of his brother chieftain and old friend, to endeavour to offer some consolation. "nay, nay, my friend," said the veteran warrior, "i mourn not for my son. allah is merciful, and has sent him to paradise in the midst of victory. and what nobler fate could i wish for him? i would that i too had died with him! for what was he born? for what have i bred him up a warrior, but to die for his country? there will be weeping and wailing enough among the women when he is brought home. alas! for his bride! her heart will break. and his mother! it is a sad day for them. but i!--no, i cannot mourn! my heart's feelings have long since been dried up. i grieve not for his loss." the low husky voice, the contracted brow, and expanded, but tearless eye of the old chief, sadly belied his words. he spoke no more as he rode on, except to issue some short orders to those of his followers who remained alive. his thoughts were hidden in his own breast; but there was an expression of concentrated agony in his stern features, which shewed too well that a father's feelings were working strongly within him. near him rode his squire, guiding the horse which bore the young warrior's body and arms; and every now and then the father would cast a glance full of deep meaning towards it. the army encamped that night on the same spot they had occupied on the previous one; stationing, however, picquets to give timely warning in case their enemies should attempt to follow. the russians, however, had received that day a sufficient lesson to learn that the circassians were foes not to be trifled with. that night, no minstrels tuned their harps round the watch-fires; nor did the warriors indulge in tales of their exploits; but, as soon as the horses were sheltered and fed, and they had partaken of their own frugal fare, wrapping themselves in their cloaks, they snatched a few hours' repose after the fatigues of the day. as selem, who took his place at the fire near which the hadji had thrown himself on the ground, watched the old warrior, he saw many a convulsive throb pass over his frame. then he would start up, and sit gazing on the burning embers, his thoughts doubtlessly resting on his slaughtered son, his white hair streaming over his stern and wrinkled brow, with mouth firmly set, and his hands clutching his snowy and flowing beard. he might have been compared to some aged oak, whose trunk had been scorched and riven by the lightning's forked flash, yet refusing to bend beneath the tempest's power. a true patriot's motto is, "i may break, but bend not." volume , chapter xiv. the next morning, as soon as the first streaks of light appeared in the east, the whole assemblage were on foot, all anxious to return to their homes. the division of the booty, an important affair, was first adjusted; the leaders of the different bands shared according to the number of their followers, among whom it was again to be divided; and, as the cattle were driven off by those to whom they were awarded, by degrees the whole of the force melted away. a curious spectacle was presented, as the different bands wended their way in warlike guise in every direction along the valleys, and up the mountain's sides, driving the untractable cattle before them. to some, also, were awarded arms and powder, according to their necessities. the various other objects of booty, (and among them, a few cossack prisoners, who were destined for slaves), had been thrown into the common stock, to be equally distributed. the seraskier, though still treated with the deepest respect by all, was now left without an army, except of his own immediate followers, every man who had composed it considering himself perfectly at liberty to take his departure when he wished, though equally ready to return, for any fresh expedition. the chiefs parted from their leader with a respectful and affectionate farewell; he returning to his cottage and his farm, like another cincinnatus, to till his land with his own hands. a considerable share of the spoils was awarded to thaddeus, much to his surprise and satisfaction; and the partition being arranged, he, with selem, and arslan gherrei, prepared to accompany the hadji in his mournful procession towards his home. their sad journey was, of necessity, as rapid as possible, waiting only at night, to snatch a few hours' repose, and borrowing fresh horses to proceed. the hadji's nature seemed changed by the blow he had sustained; before lively, and full of anecdote and conversation, he now spoke not, nor smiled, and seemed to be dreading the burst of grief and agony, which his arrival with the dead body of his son, would cause among those most dear to him. as they approached his grounds, the body was taken from the horse, and laid out on a bier, formed of branches cut from the neighbouring trees, over which a cloak was thrown, and the arms of the deceased placed by his side. no sooner did the cavalcade appear at a distance, slowly winding their way down the valley, than the women rushed out to meet and welcome them on their return from victory. among the foremost came zara, eager to clasp her young hero to her arms. the chaplet she had woven to crown him fell from her hands; a sad foreboding seized her, and as she saw at a distance, that they bore a bier, her eye wandered anxiously round for alp. she missed him from among the horsemen. she sprang wildly forward. "where is he?" she cried. "where is my alp? why comes he not with you, warriors?" she caught sight of the bier. "do you bear him there wounded? oh, speak! tell me, is he there?" "daughter," said the hadji, "allah has taken my son." she seemed to hear him not, as she rushed forward. she lifted the cloak from the face, before any one could prevent her. she shrieked not; she did not swoon; but, with a fixed gaze of despair, she stood like a monumental statue, bending over the corpse of her slaughtered husband, as cold and inanimate as he. at length, she seized a hand; it fell heavily down. she pressed her lips to those cold and lifeless ones, as if to find that breath still animated them. she seemed scarcely conscious what death was. it was long ere she was convinced of the reality; yet no tear escaped her eye, no sob, her heart. her soft and gentle nature was fearfully changing. "who did this?" she cried. "the savage urus! well i know their work! alp, you shall be avenged!" again she stood silently over the corpse, rigid and immovable. none could find it in their hearts to disturb her, until the mother of the slain youth arrived to bewail, with frantic grief, her loss, joined by the other women of their household. their cries and shrieks rent the air. "my son! my son!" cried the distracted mother, "why hast thou been torn from me? could not some more aged warrior have satisfied our foes? why hast thou been cut off in the prime of thy youth? wai! wai! wai! was it for this that thou wast reared, the boldest, the bravest, the most beautiful? no more shall i hear thy joyous laugh resounding through the groves, or see thy graceful form bounding on thy steed, across the green meadows. my son! my son! curses on the foes who have slain thee! may they, like me, be made childless! can they give me another son like thee? bear him along," she cried to the attendants, "bear my son to our home, that i may mourn over him. wai! wai!" the followers of the hadji carried the bier of their young lord as ordered; the women leading zara, who seemed like one in a trance, her eye resting alone on the bier; yet she faltered not in her steps, nor did a word escape her. her grief was too deep for words or cries. her heart was not broken; gentle and soft, as she seemed, it was of too tough a texture for that; though none, not even she herself, would have deemed it so. we know not of what nature we are, until we are tried. she would have thought that she could not have borne the sight of blood, or the slightest misery, without sinking beneath the blow: but now, alas! she knew herself. her heart, in a moment, was seared and blighted, as by the breath of the dark simoon, in an instant, the traveller is overwhelmed and scorched. her breast was now hardened to feelings of pity, and burnt with vengeance against those who had deprived her of her loved one. such are the cursed effects of war. let the victorious conqueror look around beyond the dazzling scene, and the gorgeous pageant which attends his triumph, and he would shudder, were he to see the agony, the hopeless despair, of one alone out of the thousands, of whose misery he is the cause. the heaps of slain are as nothing; the eye soon grows accustomed to gaze on them: the feelings become familiarised with the sight of blood, which first sickened at the thought. the slain have played their game of life, and are at rest; but it is those who watch anxiously for their return, who suffer: the fond parents, the doting wife, or mistress, the affectionate sister--it is their loving hearts which are wrung with anguish--it is their curses which blast the laurel-crowned brow of ambition! the hadji accompanied his son's body to the door of his home, where he saw it committed to the charge of the youth's weeping mother; ushering his friends into the guest-house, he insisted on performing the duties of hospitality. after these had been accomplished, he called for his horse, and rode hastily away into the neighbouring forest. there, unseen by the eye of any, he gave way to the grief and torment of his breast. "the boy died for me! oh! allah! that i might have been in his place!" he cried, in a burst of agony. selem with his father and several other chiefs remained to pay the last sad respects to the gallant young hero. the funeral cry sounded through the woods with a deep and thrilling solemnity; all the women of the neighbouring hamlet assembling to increase the melancholy wail. in about two hours before the sun sunk low, the hadji returned; the body of alp was then brought out from the house, round which a large concourse of people had assembled, to accompany it to its last resting-place. the cemetery was on a terrace, on the side of the hill; a beautiful spot, where grew the cyprus and the plane-tree, shading the tombs of the brave warriors who there lay at rest. a venerable bard, with sightless orbs, was led up by his attendants, at the moment the bier, borne by six youths, the companions of the deceased, was brought out. he took his station at the head of the procession. his mother and other women followed weeping; and zara, in a trance-like state, neither weeping nor speaking, walked on mechanically; her eye not for an instant withdrawn from the body of her betrothed. the hadji next followed, with a firm step and erect posture; a slight movement of the mouth, and a contracted brow, alone betokening his mental agony. arslan gherrei and the other chiefs supported him on either side, followed by the inhabitants of the hamlet. as the procession moved slowly on, the aged minstrel tuned his lyre to a low and plaintive strain, his voice trembling as he sung: at the end of each verse, the mourners joining in chorus with a melancholy cadence. as they approached the place of sepulture the words were to the following effect, continuing to be chaunted as the mourners stood round the grave:-- mourn, children of atteghei, mourn for the brave, whose heart with true glory beat high. weep, weep, as ye lower him into his grave, no more to the charge will he cry. his father to rescue, amid the thick foe, he flew as they hemmed him around; when a treacherous shot from afar laid him low, and bleeding he fell to the ground. weep, weep, for the hero, the pride of our land, who ne'er from the foemen would fly, as he fought 'mid a host who outnumber'd his band, his falchion was waving on high. and his battle cry raising, he charged them so well, as the dastardly foe pressed around. his sword drank their blood, and e'er bravely he fell, full many had bitten the ground. lay the hero to rest who so bravely hath died. 'mid the clust'ring ranks of the foe, "and his glittering falchion part not from his side, as calmly he slumbers below." he was found where he fell, 'mid the heaps of the slain, his weapon still grasp'd in his hand, which faithfully serv'd him, and there shall remain, for who is more worthy that brand? weep, weep, for the hero who rests in his grave, and ever be sacred the ground, nor let it be trod by the foot of a slave, while his spirit still wanders around. and fondly shall ever be cherished his name, as his deeds by our minstrels are sung, with the martyrs who won the bright chaplet of fame, o'er his fate shall a halo be flung. the warrior maidens of atteghei mourn. ah sad was the grief of his bride! when home on his war-steed from fight he was borne, as fainting she fell by his side. wreathe fair chaplets of flowers to hang round his tomb, weep, weep, for the youth's early fate, and when to bewail him, as yearly you come, the deeds of the hero relate. [note] _vide_ poems by t. moore. there was a deep and solemn silence as all that remained of the young, the brave, and the truly-loving alp was lowered into the narrow grave yawning to receive him. as the body reached its final resting-place, this silence was broken by the sobs which burst from his mother's breast and from the women who accompanied her. even hardy warriors, who never thought or dreamed of fear, and seemed steeled to all the softer sympathies of our nature, were moved to tears. as the first handful of earth was thrown on the uncoffined body, all present knelt down circling the grave; and the aged bard, his hands raised on high, offered up prayers for the soul of the deceased young warrior. then, joining their voices, the assembly petitioned heaven for its quick passage to the realms of bliss. the venerable sire now arose from his knees, and in a deep and solemn tone thus addressed the company: "men of atteghei, another victim has been offered up to the enmity of our hated foes; a sacrifice well worthy of the altars of liberty; for who more brave, who more noble than he? gentle as a lamb in peace, daring as a lion in war, loved by his friends, dreaded by his foe, who is here that loved him not? who would not have been ready to shelter his life with his own? why then was he taken from us, cut off in the flower of his youth? why, my countrymen? because the most noble altar demands the noblest sacrifice; and what altar is more noble than that of liberty, and where a fitter victim than he for whom we mourn? "his fate is glorious and happy. even now his spirit is ascending to the realms of bliss, while we, still loaded with our mortal chains, mourn his loss. yet still, many, many more sacrifices must be made, before our country can be free from our detested foes; but think not that our warriors will die in vain. even now i see dimly and indistinctly, an era approaching, when our enemies shall be driven from the confines of our territories, far back to the barren lands whence they came; and our country, freed from oppression, shall rise above her former state and take her place among the nations of the earth." the oration being concluded, again they knelt in prayer, while the earth hid the heroic alp for ever from the sight of those who loved him. a slab of stone was placed on his grave, over which was erected a light building of wood, sufficiently large to shelter those who would come on the anniversary of his death to offer up prayers, and to commemorate the gallant actions of the young warrior. the bereaved zara was led to her home; and, for many live-long days, she sat, motionless, regardless of all around her. stunned and bewildered by her grief, she constantly brooded over her loss. the hadji appeared to have recovered from the shock sooner than the rest of his family: but many observed that the elastic spirits of the old man had flown for ever. a change had come over him. his whole thoughts and attention were given to forming plans for defeating the russians, and defending the country against their attacks in the coming spring. so different is man's grief, for a loved lost object, to that of a woman! he has resources whereupon to employ his mind and his energies. the fierce excitement of war, the ardour of the chase, the banquet, the council, and a hundred other objects offer opportunities to distract his thoughts; while she has alone the remembrance of her loss. if she applies herself to her domestic duties, still the thought of her bereavement will intrude; and oft will she stop amid her occupations, a convulsive sob bursting from her heart, as the image of the lost one appears to her mind, and she thinks of that which was, but which now no longer exists. volume , chapter xv. our life is full of sunshine and clouds, smiles and tears; and it is as foolish to expect at all times to possess the one, as it is to repine that our lot in life must be sprinkled with the other. thus, how great a contrast did the reception awaiting the warriors in the valley of abran bashi form to that which they had experienced in the vale of gazlan; when ina, blooming as the roses of gul, flew across the lawn, as she caught sight of her father's gallant train winding down the vale. she was now followed by all the wives and maidens of the hamlet, eager to welcome the return of their husbands, their fathers, and brothers, and to recompense them for the toils of war, and the dangers they had incurred for their sakes. throwing himself from his horse, arslan gherrei folded his daughter in his arms, as she flew to meet him; tears, how precious, of pure joy filling her bright eyes, that he was again restored to her in safety. we will not attempt to describe the meeting of thaddeus and his fair mistress; but well did he feel himself recompensed for having espoused the cause of her country. death had not been idle in the valley since their absence. the forebodings of the venerable prince, aitek tcherei, had been fulfilled; full of years and honour, he had been gathered to his fathers the day after their departure. he had been buried with all the ceremonies prescribed by custom; and his clansmen were now about to select one as a successor worthy to lead them to war, or to preside at their councils in time of peace. by the aged chieftain's dying will, delivered to the elders of his tribe, alp was to succeed to his possessions; or, failing him, they were to descend to selem, so that, by the sad death of his friend, our hero found himself possessed of considerable wealth. the elders and principal men of the tribe assembled to discuss the important subject, when the eyes of all were turned on selem. his bravery in the field and his courteous manners had won even their hearts; and by choosing him, they would not only have a gallant and sagacious chief to command them, but it would prevent any of those jealous feelings which would too probably spring up, should they elect any one of those actually living among them. without a dissentient voice, therefore, selem gherrei was elected to command their brave and numerous tribe. our hero was now, in every sense of the word, a circassian chief; and a truly brave and noble one did he prove himself. we must now draw rapidly to the conclusion of our story. the trees once again put forth their leaves; the fields were enamelled with flowers; the birds sang in the groves; and all nature wore an air of renewed life and activity. the winter had passed away. the circassian husbandmen on the borders, girded on their swords, and slung their rifles on their backs, as they toiled in their fields--prepared at a moment's notice to resist any inroad of their foes--to sow corn, although 'twas doubtful whether they might ever reap the harvest. bands of warriors were moving; towards the frontiers, to be in readiness to repulse the russians, at whatever quarter they should make their first attack: and in every direction, messengers were galloping across the country, to carry information from one chief to another of their own plans, or of the enemy's movements. great stir had been observed among the troops on the kouban, and the number of all the russian garrisons was increased; but it was impossible to say what were their intentions. the early spring also saw the happiness of ina and thaddeus completed; the chieftain no longer withholding his consent, on selem's making over to his friend sufficient property to maintain his bride as became her rank. a polish priest also was found to perform the ceremony, according to the rules of the christian church; this exile with many of his countrymen had lately made their way to circassia, where they were certain of a friendly welcome from those who could so well appreciate their wrongs and sufferings. selem therefore had the satisfaction of seeing his sister married according to the forms he considered essential, when he committed her into the hands of his friend. the religion of arslan gherrei was too tolerant to object to his daughter embracing that of her husband, particularly when selem undertook to explain to him the sacred bonds it enforced, and in how superior a state it placed her, than would have been her lot had she become the wife of one of the native chiefs. the chieftain much admired this in theory, though he confessed it was what his countrymen in general would not approve; for it gave far too much power into the hands of those whom they looked upon in the light of property, and which their lords and masters would lose, should the fair sex once learn to consider themselves as having equal liberty and rights. the youthful couple enjoyed, for a short time, the utmost felicity which is allowed to the most fortunate on earth. they were truly happy in themselves, and their present lot; for they did not--they would not-- think of what change the future might bring forth. each day they thought that they had discovered some new charm in each other, something more to love. on their marriage, they had returned to the house near the sea, where we first introduced ina to our readers; and often would they wander together down the valley, to the very edge of the deep blue main, which lay calm and lovely at their feet. as they gazed on its translucent wave, they little thought that its treacherous surface might bring whole hordes of their foes upon them. selem, whenever he could tear himself away from his important occupations, came to be witness of their happiness; but he was mostly occupied in accompanying his father in excursions through every part of the country to rouse the lagging, to animate the weak-hearted, and to induce all to take the oath of amity to the patriots, and eternal enmity to their foes. where ever they moved, they were accompanied by other influential chiefs and elders, and were received with respect by all. those, who formerly thought themselves free from the danger of attacks by the russians, were roused to join their country men in more exposed districts; and others, who might have been induced by despair to sue for peace with their overwhelming foes, were excited to renewed exertions, to defend their country to the last. many made voluntary promises to muster under the standard of arslan gherrei, the moment it should be raised for whatever expedition he should think advisable. hadji guz beg constantly accompanied his friends in these expeditions; his enthusiastic exhortations adding considerably to the excitement of the people. at his own home, he scarcely ever remained, for he could not bear to hear the loud and constant repinings of his wife for her lost son; nor to look on the grief stricken zara. she, poor girl, continued incapable of exertion, and unexcited by aught around her; her thoughts dwelling alone on her lost alp. it was at length thought, that change of scene, the novelty of the sea, near which she had never been, and the affectionate embraces of her early friend, might arouse her from her stupor. ina received the youthful widow with an affectionate greeting, but could not refrain from tears as she contrasted the time they parted, when she was borne away from her a joyous bride, with the melancholy of the present; her young hopes blighted, and he, whom she loved, lying in his early and ensanguined grave. the tender endeavours of ina, could scarcely rouse her from her apathetic indifference to all terrestrial affairs; zara could only return her kindness with a faint smile of thanks. arslan gherrei was now less reluctant to be absent from home, knowing that he left his daughter with one able to protect her; and, at this time, selem had just arrived to pay his sister and friend a visit, before they moved to a habitation further inland; for, as the spring advanced, it was feared the russians might attempt a landing on the coast. the numerical strength of the tribe beneath the sway of arslan gherrei had been dreadfully reduced by war and plague, so that when he led forth his warriors to battle, scarcely enough remained to protect his territory; on which account, the preceding year, he had removed his daughter to the house of his kinsman, the late prince aitek tcherei. volume , chapter xvi. a lovely and bright spring morning had induced selem and his friend to seize their guns and sally forth at dawn of day, in search of game. they had wandered long over the sweet scented heathery hills, fresh and pure with the sparkling dew; when they heard loud shouts behind them, and saw karl running to overtake them. with a face of consternation, he said that he had just seen from the highest mountain in the neighbourhood, where he had been to cut wood, a large fleet standing, towards the coast, which his fears told him, must be that of his much dreaded countrymen. "it will be a day of fighting, my friends," exclaimed selem, as with thaddeus he flew rapidly towards the house. "we must die, rather than let our foes set foot upon our strand, where, if they once get footing, it will cost us dear to drive them off." they did not even venture to enter the anderoon; but, seizing their arms, and summoning as many warriors as they could collect on the moment, they rushed to the shore, thoughtless of the overwhelming force of the foe, and determined to defend it to the last gasp. as they emerged from the valley to the sands, a sight met their view, sufficient to appal the stoutest heart among the brave mountaineers. as far as the eye could reach, the smooth sparkling sea appeared covered with the lofty and wide spreading canvas of the russian ships of war and transports, advancing slowly and proudly towards the devoted coast. the circassians gazed with deep anxiety at the hostile flotilla, feeling how small was their chance of successfully opposing the landing of their foes with the small force they had collected. selem, however, sword in hand, flew amongst the small band, encouraging and urging them boldly to withstand their enemies. "my countrymen, my brave friends," he cried, "if we allow our foes to land, our destruction, and that of all those dear to us, will be certain. let us, then, heap our dead bodies, to impede their progress, until our countrymen can assemble to fill our places; and let us rejoice that we can make an offering of our blood for the liberty of circassia." "we will follow you to the death, noble chief. wherever you go we will go. allah will protect the right!" was exclaimed on all sides by men, who, as they drew their sabres, swore never to yield. the fleet approached in a crescent form. the smaller vessels, leading and running in, anchored as close to the land as the depth of the water would allow, presenting the frowning battery of their broadsides to shore. the largest ships followed, while the transports formed in line outside; and, no sooner were the sails furled, than hundreds of boats issued from among them, advancing steadily forward in close line. even the heroic selem felt that it was an act almost of madness to oppose so overwhelming a force; and, for a moment, he hesitated to sacrifice his people's lives in so hopeless an attempt. but his resolution returned, and he determined to risk all, rather than fly. at that instant shouts were heard in the woods above them; and a band of chiefs--on their journey to the north, at the head of whom came the hadji and his brother--were seen galloping towards them. there was scarcely time to exchange the warriors' brief greeting with their welcome friends--the number of the whole amounting to a few hundreds only, while the approaching boats contained several thousands--ere the fierce combat commenced. the band of circassians, mostly chiefs and renowned warriors, remained sheltered behind the trees, until the boats came near enough to enable them to take certain aim, when they opened a rapid and deadly fire from their rifles, taking the russians by surprise, and throwing them into some disorder; but, notwithstanding numbers fell wounded in the boats, they soon rallied and again advanced. as the keel of the headmost boat grated on the beach, selem and the hadji, calling to their comrades, drew their sabres, and, with a furious onset, rushed towards the enemy. before the first russian had time to set his foot on dry land, he was hurled bleeding into the sea. as each of the headmost boats came on, they were received with the same desperate valour; and as, with their lifeless crews, they were thrown on shore, they served as ramparts to the defenders to shelter themselves from the fire of the aftermost ones. still the enemy advanced in constant succession, like wave upon wave, towards the beach; but with such heroic bravery did selem and his friends meet them, that the first part of the detachment was completely destroyed, the rest keeping off until more boats should arrive from the ships. for the circassians, however, it was a fearful struggle, to oppose their small band to so overwhelming a force; and more so, when those on board the ships of war, seeing the powerful opposition offered, commenced firing on friends and foes alike. yet, though several of the patriots had fallen, they fought on undaunted. in a short time, however, all the boats came up, extending their line, when a body of troops effected a landing before they could be opposed. as the hadji caught sight of them, "allah! allah!" he cried, "down with the foes of circassia. none such may place foot here. allah! allah!" and, calling to several of his companions, he furiously charged them; but, notwithstanding his utmost bravery, he and his followers were again driven back to the chief scene of conflict, closely pressed by the enemy. in the mean time also, on the other side, another body of troops had landed. the circassians found themselves almost hemmed in; but they did not give much time for their enemies to form; for a party attacked them with almost despairing fury, and kept them from approaching to aid the disembarkation of the other boats. the patriot band was thinning fast; the most determined spirits among them, hoping only to sell their lives dearly; the strand was already strewed with their bodies; a dark red line of human gore fringing the pure ocean. still in desperation they fought on. they thought of their wives, and of their children, and they strove not to die unavenged. the image of his young wife presented itself to thaddeus; and, commending her to the care of heaven, he bravely fought with renewed courage by the side of her brother. yet now all hope had fled, when a shout was heard from the mountains rising high above the rattle of the musketry, the roar of cannon, and the clash of steel. issuing from the grove, a numerous party was seen rushing with speed to the spot, headed by a female, brandishing in her hand a glittering sabre. it was the widowed zara leading on her band of peasants against the russians, who retreated before the fury of the onset, her followers hewing down their foes on all sides. her life seemed charmed; for she guarded not herself, as she rushed into the thickest of the desperate fight, shouting to her followers, and with her slender arm dealing death-bearing blows around her. for a considerable distance along the coast, many separate engagements took place where-ever any boats attempted to throw the troops on shore; those who were left, while the boats returned for reinforcements, were cut to pieces; for the defenders were too few to attempt making prisoners. seeing that affairs were in this desperate state, the russians sent every boat they could launch from their ships of war and transports, filled with troops, to the assistance of those already engaged; the brigs at the same time running so close in, that their keels touched the ground. these vessels opened a galling fire, aiming over the heads of their own people, at the defenders of the soil. but the circassians were by far too eager to allow the manoeuvre to be of much avail. closing and grappling with their enemies the moment they came on, and fighting up to their waists in the sea, as they rushed forward to meet them, the shot from the ships, made equal havoc among both parties. the russians now saw that it would have been better policy to wait, until all their foes had collected on the beach, before they commenced firing; when, after playing on the crowds of circassians, they might under cover of their guns, have sent in their boats without molestation. as it was they had been dreadfully cut up without making good their landing. they now attempted to repair their error at the sacrifice of their own people; but that signified nothing if they could ultimately be successful. selem, the moment he could turn his eyes to see what was going forward, after defeating those directly opposed to him, observed zara amid the thickest of the fight, encouraging, and leading on her followers to the attack; he hastened towards her, fearful for her safety, and endeavoured to withdraw her from the bloody scene. "think you that the life of my husband does not require some sacrifice at my hands?" she cried. "the blood of all these base slaves would not repay one drop of that which flowed in his veins. who is more bound to avenge his death, than his wife? i have nothing to fear. hinder me not from the holy work." breaking from him, she rushed again towards the enemy. karl, however, who had followed her, and who did not like to fight against his own countrymen, remained by her side, merely warding off the blows aimed at her; till at length, his choler rising, he returned the blows himself, with interest. selem saw that it was hopeless to hinder her; and the utmost energies of all were now required to repel the fresh attack. as the boats pulled rapidly towards the shore, the enemy's soldiers, urged to desperation by the fate of their comrades, and by the instigation of their officers, threw themselves into the water with bayonets ready fixed, and charged the circassians. but, as before, the active mountaineers grappled with them, leaping between their bayonets, and stabbing them with their short swords. the termination of the contest, however, still remained doubtful, for at one spot, less obstinately defended, several boats made a dash at once, and succeeded in throwing their troops on shore, where, forming, they charged the circassians on their flank with so much courage, that selem began to fear their heroic defence would have been of no avail. at this critical moment, a loud shout was again raised behind them; and, turning, selem beheld his father, at the head of a band of warriors, breaking through the wood, and galloping over the sand. a fresh and desperate charge was now made against the russians, who were driven with great loss, to their boats. the boats that were already afloat pulled off, the most desperate fighting now ensuing; the russians, attempting to shove off their boats, while the circassians, surrounding them, hauled their crews into the water, cutting down the soldiers who offered further resistance; but the foemen, at length when they found themselves left to their fate, ceased fighting, and sued for mercy. a great number of prisoners were taken, the russians losing more than half the number of troops they attempted to land. many of their boats were also left wrecked on the shore. no sooner did those from the ships see that their troops were completely defeated, than they again commenced a tremendous cannonade on the circassians, who, collecting their dead and wounded, retired within shelter of the woods, where they could watch the enemy with less exposure of their lives. selem looked round anxiously for zara. she had escaped unscathed. her sword--it had been alp's--was grasped in her hands, yet reeking with the blood of the enemy, as slowly she retired, unheeding the shot then falling thick around and laying many low in the hour of victory. the patriots watched their enemies with lynx eyed vigilance, lest they might make a second attempt at landing. a constant firing was kept up from the wood, in all directions, at the retiring boats, and on the vessels, which they could reach with their rifles, making them glad to get beyond their deadly aim. the enemy had learned a sufficient lesson. in a short time, the boats were hoisted in, and that vast flotilla, which seemed capable of overwhelming the circassian territories, stood out to sea, defeated and discomfited, by a mere handful of determined mountaineers. so truly will patriotic courage withstand tyranny and injustice! loud shouts arose from the gallant victors as the dark eagles were seen flying far out to sea; and all that part of the country was, for the present, relieved from the baneful shadow of their wings. but, like the destroying angel of the egyptians, wherever they had passed, they left grief and mourning in their track, for many of the brave patriots had fallen. selem, with a party of the most humane, as soon as the ships had got under weigh, repaired to the beach, where he found, mingled with the wounded circassians, several of his late opponents still lingering. deep was the gratitude of the poor fellows, when they heard themselves addressed in their own tongue; and when he ordered them to be conveyed to the hamlet, and tended with care. none of our friends among the chiefs had fallen; but thaddeus had received a wound sufficiently severe to require the whole of ina's attention and fond care. many months elapsed before he could again take the field; and ina might be excused if she scarcely regretted his confinement. he has since proved himself a true champion of his adopted country; and we trust that his gallant sons may, in a few years, follow his noble example. no sooner had the tumult of the fight ceased, than zara's excitement also vanished; and, overcome by the unnatural exertion she had undergone, she sank to the ground, her hand relaxing the grasp of her weapon, which she would not before quit. in this state she was borne to the house of arslan gherrei. she recovered; and sank no more into her apathetic state. but her nature, her very appearance had changed; though her eye was even brighter than ever. a hectic flush--one crimson spot--grew on her thin and wan cheek: her lip was pale, and her voice lost its soft, sweet melody. like the warlike brides of her ancestors, wherever the foe approached, there was the bereaved young widow to be seen amid the thickest of the fight, her heroic courage animating her countrymen, and spreading terror among the ranks of the urus. where the carnage has been most dreadful, blood flowing like water from the pent-up fountains of winter when let loose by the warmth of spring, there has oft the young amazon been seen rushing on amid the slain unscathed, unhurt; bearing, it seems, a charmed life; and, if she would forget her griefs in death, she cannot; the leaden showers fall thick, the sharp steel flashes around her in vain. many follow her as an inspired being sent from heaven to lead them to victory; and the foes, as they hear the war shout of her followers, and see her approaching, fly, terror-stricken before her. the fire of revenge for her slaughtered love still burns unquenched within her bosom. death--death alone can ever extinguish its consuming flame. that noble champion of his country, arslan gherrei, still leads his followers to war; and may he be spared to enjoy the blessings of peace, which he so well deserves, and the happiness of his country, for which his heart so yearns. even now also is the war shout of the fierce hadji heard in the thickest of the battle; and though his tread has lost its elasticity, his arm somewhat of its nerve, still well does he deal his blows amid the enemies of his country. may just heaven shield the good and brave old man from the weapons of an invading enemy! and selem, our hero--yet does the image of the loving, the murdered azila, dwell within his bosom. he has not forgotten his vow. terribly does he fulfil it. but the end is not yet accomplished. his only bride, his earthly love, is his country; and what more exalted or holy feeling could possess his breast? still does he energetically strive for circassia's welfare; and never for a moment, does he regret that he exchanged wealth, rank, and heartless dissipation, gilding the chains of despotism, for his humble cot, and liberty! may every philanthropist join us in earnest hope and prayer, that circassia may not share the fate of poland. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the end. the cossacks a tale of by leo tolstoy ( ) translated by louise and aylmer maude chapter i all is quiet in moscow. the squeak of wheels is seldom heard in the snow-covered street. there are no lights left in the windows and the street lamps have been extinguished. only the sound of bells, borne over the city from the church towers, suggests the approach of morning. the streets are deserted. at rare intervals a night-cabman's sledge kneads up the snow and sand in the street as the driver makes his way to another corner where he falls asleep while waiting for a fare. an old woman passes by on her way to church, where a few wax candles burn with a red light reflected on the gilt mountings of the icons. workmen are already getting up after the long winter night and going to their work--but for the gentlefolk it is still evening. from a window in chevalier's restaurant a light--illegal at that hour--is still to be seen through a chink in the shutter. at the entrance a carriage, a sledge, and a cabman's sledge, stand close together with their backs to the curbstone. a three-horse sledge from the post-station is there also. a yard-porter muffled up and pinched with cold is sheltering behind the corner of the house. 'and what's the good of all this jawing?' thinks the footman who sits in the hall weary and haggard. 'this always happens when i'm on duty.' from the adjoining room are heard the voices of three young men, sitting there at a table on which are wine and the remains of supper. one, a rather plain, thin, neat little man, sits looking with tired kindly eyes at his friend, who is about to start on a journey. another, a tall man, lies on a sofa beside a table on which are empty bottles, and plays with his watch-key. a third, wearing a short, fur-lined coat, is pacing up and down the room stopping now and then to crack an almond between his strong, rather thick, but well-tended fingers. he keeps smiling at something and his face and eyes are all aglow. he speaks warmly and gesticulates, but evidently does not find the words he wants and those that occur to him seem to him inadequate to express what has risen to his heart. 'now i can speak out fully,' said the traveller. 'i don't want to defend myself, but i should like you at least to understand me as i understand myself, and not look at the matter superficially. you say i have treated her badly,' he continued, addressing the man with the kindly eyes who was watching him. 'yes, you are to blame,' said the latter, and his look seemed to express still more kindliness and weariness. 'i know why you say that,' rejoined the one who was leaving. 'to be loved is in your opinion as great a happiness as to love, and if a man obtains it, it is enough for his whole life.' 'yes, quite enough, my dear fellow, more than enough!' confirmed the plain little man, opening and shutting his eyes. 'but why shouldn't the man love too?' said the traveller thoughtfully, looking at his friend with something like pity. 'why shouldn't one love? because love doesn't come ... no, to be beloved is a misfortune. it is a misfortune to feel guilty because you do not give something you cannot give. o my god!' he added, with a gesture of his arm. 'if it all happened reasonably, and not all topsy-turvy--not in our way but in a way of its own! why, it's as if i had stolen that love! you think so too, don't deny it. you must think so. but will you believe it, of all the horrid and stupid things i have found time to do in my life--and there are many--this is one i do not and cannot repent of. neither at the beginning nor afterwards did i lie to myself or to her. it seemed to me that i had at last fallen in love, but then i saw that it was an involuntary falsehood, and that that was not the way to love, and i could not go on, but she did. am i to blame that i couldn't? what was i to do?' 'well, it's ended now!' said his friend, lighting a cigar to master his sleepiness. 'the fact is that you have not yet loved and do not know what love is.' the man in the fur-lined coat was going to speak again, and put his hands to his head, but could not express what he wanted to say. 'never loved! ... yes, quite true, i never have! but after all, i have within me a desire to love, and nothing could be stronger than that desire! but then, again, does such love exist? there always remains something incomplete. ah well! what's the use of talking? i've made an awful mess of life! but anyhow it's all over now; you are quite right. and i feel that i am beginning a new life.' 'which you will again make a mess of,' said the man who lay on the sofa playing with his watch-key. but the traveller did not listen to him. 'i am sad and yet glad to go,' he continued. 'why i am sad i don't know.' and the traveller went on talking about himself, without noticing that this did not interest the others as much as it did him. a man is never such an egotist as at moments of spiritual ecstasy. at such times it seems to him that there is nothing on earth more splendid and interesting than himself. 'dmitri andreich! the coachman won't wait any longer!' said a young serf, entering the room in a sheepskin coat, with a scarf tied round his head. 'the horses have been standing since twelve, and it's now four o'clock!' dmitri andreich looked at his serf, vanyusha. the scarf round vanyusha's head, his felt boots and sleepy face, seemed to be calling his master to a new life of labour, hardship, and activity. 'true enough! good-bye!' said he, feeling for the unfastened hook and eye on his coat. in spite of advice to mollify the coachman by another tip, he put on his cap and stood in the middle of the room. the friends kissed once, then again, and after a pause, a third time. the man in the fur-lined coat approached the table and emptied a champagne glass, then took the plain little man's hand and blushed. 'ah well, i will speak out all the same ... i must and will be frank with you because i am fond of you ... of course you love her--i always thought so--don't you?' 'yes,' answered his friend, smiling still more gently. 'and perhaps...' 'please sir, i have orders to put out the candles,' said the sleepy attendant, who had been listening to the last part of the conversation and wondering why gentlefolk always talk about one and the same thing. 'to whom shall i make out the bill? to you, sir?' he added, knowing whom to address and turning to the tall man. 'to me,' replied the tall man. 'how much?' 'twenty-six rubles.' the tall man considered for a moment, but said nothing and put the bill in his pocket. the other two continued their talk. 'good-bye, you are a capital fellow!' said the short plain man with the mild eyes. tears filled the eyes of both. they stepped into the porch. 'oh, by the by,' said the traveller, turning with a blush to the tall man, 'will you settle chevalier's bill and write and let me know?' 'all right, all right!' said the tall man, pulling on his gloves. 'how i envy you!' he added quite unexpectedly when they were out in the porch. the traveller got into his sledge, wrapped his coat about him, and said: 'well then, come along!' he even moved a little to make room in the sledge for the man who said he envied him--his voice trembled. 'good-bye, mitya! i hope that with god's help you...' said the tall one. but his wish was that the other would go away quickly, and so he could not finish the sentence. they were silent a moment. then someone again said, 'good-bye,' and a voice cried, 'ready,' and the coachman touched up the horses. 'hy, elisar!' one of the friends called out, and the other coachman and the sledge-drivers began moving, clicking their tongues and pulling at the reins. then the stiffened carriage-wheels rolled squeaking over the frozen snow. 'a fine fellow, that olenin!' said one of the friends. 'but what an idea to go to the caucasus--as a cadet, too! i wouldn't do it for anything. ... are you dining at the club to-morrow?' 'yes.' they separated. the traveller felt warm, his fur coat seemed too hot. he sat on the bottom of the sledge and unfastened his coat, and the three shaggy post-horses dragged themselves out of one dark street into another, past houses he had never before seen. it seemed to olenin that only travellers starting on a long journey went through those streets. all was dark and silent and dull around him, but his soul was full of memories, love, regrets, and a pleasant tearful feeling. chapter ii 'i'm fond of them, very fond! ... first-rate fellows! ... fine!' he kept repeating, and felt ready to cry. but why he wanted to cry, who were the first-rate fellows he was so fond of--was more than he quite knew. now and then he looked round at some house and wondered why it was so curiously built; sometimes he began wondering why the post-boy and vanyusha, who were so different from himself, sat so near, and together with him were being jerked about and swayed by the tugs the side-horses gave at the frozen traces, and again he repeated: 'first rate ... very fond!' and once he even said: 'and how it seizes one ... excellent!' and wondered what made him say it. 'dear me, am i drunk?' he asked himself. he had had a couple of bottles of wine, but it was not the wine alone that was having this effect on olenin. he remembered all the words of friendship heartily, bashfully, spontaneously (as he believed) addressed to him on his departure. he remembered the clasp of hands, glances, the moments of silence, and the sound of a voice saying, 'good-bye, mitya!' when he was already in the sledge. he remembered his own deliberate frankness. and all this had a touching significance for him. not only friends and relatives, not only people who had been indifferent to him, but even those who did not like him, seemed to have agreed to become fonder of him, or to forgive him, before his departure, as people do before confession or death. 'perhaps i shall not return from the caucasus,' he thought. and he felt that he loved his friends and some one besides. he was sorry for himself. but it was not love for his friends that so stirred and uplifted his heart that he could not repress the meaningless words that seemed to rise of themselves to his lips; nor was it love for a woman (he had never yet been in love) that had brought on this mood. love for himself, love full of hope--warm young love for all that was good in his own soul (and at that moment it seemed to him that there was nothing but good in it)--compelled him to weep and to mutter incoherent words. olenin was a youth who had never completed his university course, never served anywhere (having only a nominal post in some government office or other), who had squandered half his fortune and had reached the age of twenty-four without having done anything or even chosen a career. he was what in moscow society is termed un jeune homme. at the age of eighteen he was free--as only rich young russians in the 'forties who had lost their parents at an early age could be. neither physical nor moral fetters of any kind existed for him; he could do as he liked, lacking nothing and bound by nothing. neither relatives, nor fatherland, nor religion, nor wants, existed for him. he believed in nothing and admitted nothing. but although he believed in nothing he was not a morose or blase young man, nor self-opinionated, but on the contrary continually let himself be carried away. he had come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as love, yet his heart always overflowed in the presence of any young and attractive woman. he had long been aware that honours and position were nonsense, yet involuntarily he felt pleased when at a ball prince sergius came up and spoke to him affably. but he yielded to his impulses only in so far as they did not limit his freedom. as soon as he had yielded to any influence and became conscious of its leading on to labour and struggle, he instinctively hastened to free himself from the feeling or activity into which he was being drawn and to regain his freedom. in this way he experimented with society-life, the civil service, farming, music--to which at one time he intended to devote his life--and even with the love of women in which he did not believe. he meditated on the use to which he should devote that power of youth which is granted to man only once in a lifetime: that force which gives a man the power of making himself, or even--as it seemed to him--of making the universe, into anything he wishes: should it be to art, to science, to love of woman, or to practical activities? it is true that some people are devoid of this impulse, and on entering life at once place their necks under the first yoke that offers itself and honestly labour under it for the rest of their lives. but olenin was too strongly conscious of the presence of that all-powerful god of youth--of that capacity to be entirely transformed into an aspiration or idea--the capacity to wish and to do--to throw oneself headlong into a bottomless abyss without knowing why or wherefore. he bore this consciousness within himself, was proud of it and, without knowing it, was happy in that consciousness. up to that time he had loved only himself, and could not help loving himself, for he expected nothing but good of himself and had not yet had time to be disillusioned. on leaving moscow he was in that happy state of mind in which a young man, conscious of past mistakes, suddenly says to himself, 'that was not the real thing.' all that had gone before was accidental and unimportant. till then he had not really tried to live, but now with his departure from moscow a new life was beginning--a life in which there would be no mistakes, no remorse, and certainly nothing but happiness. it is always the case on a long journey that till the first two or three stages have been passed imagination continues to dwell on the place left behind, but with the first morning on the road it leaps to the end of the journey and there begins building castles in the air. so it happened to olenin. after leaving the town behind, he gazed at the snowy fields and felt glad to be alone in their midst. wrapping himself in his fur coat, he lay at the bottom of the sledge, became tranquil, and fell into a doze. the parting with his friends had touched him deeply, and memories of that last winter spent in moscow and images of the past, mingled with vague thoughts and regrets, rose unbidden in his imagination. he remembered the friend who had seen him off and his relations with the girl they had talked about. the girl was rich. "how could he love her knowing that she loved me?" thought he, and evil suspicions crossed his mind. "there is much dishonesty in men when one comes to reflect." then he was confronted by the question: "but really, how is it i have never been in love? every one tells me that i never have. can it be that i am a moral monstrosity?" and he began to recall all his infatuations. he recalled his entry into society, and a friend's sister with whom he spent several evenings at a table with a lamp on it which lit up her slender fingers busy with needlework, and the lower part of her pretty delicate face. he recalled their conversations that dragged on like the game in which one passes on a stick which one keeps alight as long as possible, and the general awkwardness and restraint and his continual feeling of rebellion at all that conventionality. some voice had always whispered: "that's not it, that's not it," and so it had proved. then he remembered a ball and the mazurka he danced with the beautiful d----. "how much in love i was that night and how happy! and how hurt and vexed i was next morning when i woke and felt myself still free! why does not love come and bind me hand and foot?" thought he. "no, there is no such thing as love! that neighbour who used to tell me, as she told dubrovin and the marshal, that she loved the stars, was not it either." and now his farming and work in the country recurred to his mind, and in those recollections also there was nothing to dwell on with pleasure. "will they talk long of my departure?" came into his head; but who "they" were he did not quite know. next came a thought that made him wince and mutter incoherently. it was the recollection of m. cappele the tailor, and the six hundred and seventy-eight rubles he still owed him, and he recalled the words in which he had begged him to wait another year, and the look of perplexity and resignation which had appeared on the tailor's face. 'oh, my god, my god!' he repeated, wincing and trying to drive away the intolerable thought. 'all the same and in spite of everything she loved me,' thought he of the girl they had talked about at the farewell supper. 'yes, had i married her i should not now be owing anything, and as it is i am in debt to vasilyev.' then he remembered the last night he had played with vasilyev at the club (just after leaving her), and he recalled his humiliating requests for another game and the other's cold refusal. 'a year's economizing and they will all be paid, and the devil take them!'... but despite this assurance he again began calculating his outstanding debts, their dates, and when he could hope to pay them off. 'and i owe something to morell as well as to chevalier,' thought he, recalling the night when he had run up so large a debt. it was at a carousel at the gipsies arranged by some fellows from petersburg: sashka b---, an aide-de-camp to the tsar, prince d---, and that pompous old----. 'how is it those gentlemen are so self-satisfied?' thought he, 'and by what right do they form a clique to which they think others must be highly flattered to be admitted? can it be because they are on the emperor's staff? why, it's awful what fools and scoundrels they consider other people to be! but i showed them that i at any rate, on the contrary, do not at all want their intimacy. all the same, i fancy andrew, the steward, would be amazed to know that i am on familiar terms with a man like sashka b---, a colonel and an aide-de-camp to the tsar! yes, and no one drank more than i did that evening, and i taught the gipsies a new song and everyone listened to it. though i have done many foolish things, all the same i am a very good fellow,' thought he. morning found him at the third post-stage. he drank tea, and himself helped vanyusha to move his bundles and trunks and sat down among them, sensible, erect, and precise, knowing where all his belongings were, how much money he had and where it was, where he had put his passport and the post-horse requisition and toll-gate papers, and it all seemed to him so well arranged that he grew quite cheerful and the long journey before him seemed an extended pleasure-trip. all that morning and noon he was deep in calculations of how many versts he had travelled, how many remained to the next stage, how many to the next town, to the place where he would dine, to the place where he would drink tea, and to stavropol, and what fraction of the whole journey was already accomplished. he also calculated how much money he had with him, how much would be left over, how much would pay off all his debts, and what proportion of his income he would spend each month. towards evening, after tea, he calculated that to stavropol there still remained seven-elevenths of the whole journey, that his debts would require seven months' economy and one-eighth of his whole fortune; and then, tranquillized, he wrapped himself up, lay down in the sledge, and again dozed off. his imagination was now turned to the future: to the caucasus. all his dreams of the future were mingled with pictures of amalat-beks, circassian women, mountains, precipices, terrible torrents, and perils. all these things were vague and dim, but the love of fame and the danger of death furnished the interest of that future. now, with unprecedented courage and a strength that amazed everyone, he slew and subdued an innumerable host of hillsmen; now he was himself a hillsman and with them was maintaining their independence against the russians. as soon as he pictured anything definite, familiar moscow figures always appeared on the scene. sashka b---fights with the russians or the hillsmen against him. even the tailor cappele in some strange way takes part in the conqueror's triumph. amid all this he remembered his former humiliations, weaknesses, and mistakes, and the recollection was not disagreeable. it was clear that there among the mountains, waterfalls, fair circassians, and dangers, such mistakes could not recur. having once made full confession to himself there was an end of it all. one other vision, the sweetest of them all, mingled with the young man's every thought of the future--the vision of a woman. and there, among the mountains, she appeared to his imagination as a circassian slave, a fine figure with a long plait of hair and deep submissive eyes. he pictured a lonely hut in the mountains, and on the threshold she stands awaiting him when, tired and covered with dust, blood, and fame, he returns to her. he is conscious of her kisses, her shoulders, her sweet voice, and her submissiveness. she is enchanting, but uneducated, wild, and rough. in the long winter evenings he begins her education. she is clever and gifted and quickly acquires all the knowledge essential. why not? she can quite easily learn foreign languages, read the french masterpieces and understand them: notre dame de paris, for instance, is sure to please her. she can also speak french. in a drawing-room she can show more innate dignity than a lady of the highest society. she can sing, simply, powerfully, and passionately.... 'oh, what nonsense!' said he to himself. but here they reached a post-station and he had to change into another sledge and give some tips. but his fancy again began searching for the 'nonsense' he had relinquished, and again fair circassians, glory, and his return to russia with an appointment as aide-de-camp and a lovely wife rose before his imagination. 'but there's no such thing as love,' said he to himself. 'fame is all rubbish. but the six hundred and seventy-eight rubles? ... and the conquered land that will bring me more wealth than i need for a lifetime? it will not be right though to keep all that wealth for myself. i shall have to distribute it. but to whom? well, six hundred and seventy-eight rubles to cappele and then we'll see.' ... quite vague visions now cloud his mind, and only vanyusha's voice and the interrupted motion of the sledge break his healthy youthful slumber. scarcely conscious, he changes into another sledge at the next stage and continues his journey. next morning everything goes on just the same: the same kind of post-stations and tea-drinking, the same moving horses' cruppers, the same short talks with vanyusha, the same vague dreams and drowsiness, and the same tired, healthy, youthful sleep at night. chapter iii the farther olenin travelled from central russia the farther he left his memories behind, and the nearer he drew to the caucasus the lighter his heart became. "i'll stay away for good and never return to show myself in society," was a thought that sometimes occurred to him. "these people whom i see here are not people. none of them know me and none of them can ever enter the moscow society i was in or find out about my past. and no one in that society will ever know what i am doing, living among these people." and quite a new feeling of freedom from his whole past came over him among the rough beings he met on the road whom he did not consider to be people in the sense that his moscow acquaintances were. the rougher the people and the fewer the signs of civilization the freer he felt. stavropol, through which he had to pass, irked him. the signboards, some of them even in french, ladies in carriages, cabs in the marketplace, and a gentleman wearing a fur cloak and tall hat who was walking along the boulevard and staring at the passersby, quite upset him. "perhaps these people know some of my acquaintances," he thought; and the club, his tailor, cards, society ... came back to his mind. but after stavropol everything was satisfactory--wild and also beautiful and warlike, and olenin felt happier and happier. all the cossacks, post-boys, and post-station masters seemed to him simple folk with whom he could jest and converse simply, without having to consider to what class they belonged. they all belonged to the human race which, without his thinking about it, all appeared dear to olenin, and they all treated him in a friendly way. already in the province of the don cossacks his sledge had been exchanged for a cart, and beyond stavropol it became so warm that olenin travelled without wearing his fur coat. it was already spring--an unexpected joyous spring for olenin. at night he was no longer allowed to leave the cossack villages, and they said it was dangerous to travel in the evening. vanyusha began to be uneasy, and they carried a loaded gun in the cart. olenin became still happier. at one of the post-stations the post-master told of a terrible murder that had been committed recently on the high road. they began to meet armed men. "so this is where it begins!" thought olenin, and kept expecting to see the snowy mountains of which mention was so often made. once, towards evening, the nogay driver pointed with his whip to the mountains shrouded in clouds. olenin looked eagerly, but it was dull and the mountains were almost hidden by the clouds. olenin made out something grey and white and fleecy, but try as he would he could find nothing beautiful in the mountains of which he had so often read and heard. the mountains and the clouds appeared to him quite alike, and he thought the special beauty of the snow peaks, of which he had so often been told, was as much an invention as bach's music and the love of women, in which he did not believe. so he gave up looking forward to seeing the mountains. but early next morning, being awakened in his cart by the freshness of the air, he glanced carelessly to the right. the morning was perfectly clear. suddenly he saw, about twenty paces away as it seemed to him at first glance, pure white gigantic masses with delicate contours, the distinct fantastic outlines of their summits showing sharply against the far-off sky. when he had realized the distance between himself and them and the sky and the whole immensity of the mountains, and felt the infinitude of all that beauty, he became afraid that it was but a phantasm or a dream. he gave himself a shake to rouse himself, but the mountains were still the same. "what's that! what is it?" he said to the driver. "why, the mountains," answered the nogay driver with indifference. "and i too have been looking at them for a long while," said vanyusha. "aren't they fine? they won't believe it at home." the quick progress of the three-horsed cart along the smooth road caused the mountains to appear to be running along the horizon, while their rosy crests glittered in the light of the rising sun. at first olenin was only astonished at the sight, then gladdened by it; but later on, gazing more and more intently at that snow-peaked chain that seemed to rise not from among other black mountains, but straight out of the plain, and to glide away into the distance, he began by slow degrees to be penetrated by their beauty and at length to feel the mountains. from that moment all he saw, all he thought, and all he felt, acquired for him a new character, sternly majestic like the mountains! all his moscow reminiscences, shame, and repentance, and his trivial dreams about the caucasus, vanished and did not return. 'now it has begun,' a solemn voice seemed to say to him. the road and the terek, just becoming visible in the distance, and the cossack villages and the people, all no longer appeared to him as a joke. he looked at himself or vanyusha, and again thought of the mountains. ... two cossacks ride by, their guns in their cases swinging rhythmically behind their backs, the white and bay legs of their horses mingling confusedly ... and the mountains! beyond the terek rises the smoke from a tartar village... and the mountains! the sun has risen and glitters on the terek, now visible beyond the reeds ... and the mountains! from the village comes a tartar wagon, and women, beautiful young women, pass by... and the mountains! 'abreks canter about the plain, and here am i driving along and do not fear them! i have a gun, and strength, and youth... and the mountains!' chapter iv that whole part of the terek line (about fifty miles) along which lie the villages of the grebensk cossacks is uniform in character both as to country and inhabitants. the terek, which separates the cossacks from the mountaineers, still flows turbid and rapid though already broad and smooth, always depositing greyish sand on its low reedy right bank and washing away the steep, though not high, left bank, with its roots of century-old oaks, its rotting plane trees, and young brushwood. on the right bank lie the villages of pro-russian, though still somewhat restless, tartars. along the left bank, back half a mile from the river and standing five or six miles apart from one another, are cossack villages. in olden times most of these villages were situated on the banks of the river; but the terek, shifting northward from the mountains year by year, washed away those banks, and now there remain only the ruins of the old villages and of the gardens of pear and plum trees and poplars, all overgrown with blackberry bushes and wild vines. no one lives there now, and one only sees the tracks of the deer, the wolves, the hares, and the pheasants, who have learned to love these places. from village to village runs a road cut through the forest as a cannon-shot might fly. along the roads are cordons of cossacks and watch-towers with sentinels in them. only a narrow strip about seven hundred yards wide of fertile wooded soil belongs to the cossacks. to the north of it begin the sand-drifts of the nogay or mozdok steppes, which fetch far to the north and run, heaven knows where, into the trukhmen, astrakhan, and kirghiz-kaisatsk steppes. to the south, beyond the terek, are the great chechnya river, the kochkalov range, the black mountains, yet another range, and at last the snowy mountains, which can just be seen but have never yet been scaled. in this fertile wooded strip, rich in vegetation, has dwelt as far back as memory runs the fine warlike and prosperous russian tribe belonging to the sect of old believers, and called the grebensk cossacks. long long ago their old believer ancestors fled from russia and settled beyond the terek among the chechens on the greben, the first range of wooded mountains of chechnya. living among the chechens the cossacks intermarried with them and adopted the manners and customs of the hill tribes, though they still retained the russian language in all its purity, as well as their old faith. a tradition, still fresh among them, declares that tsar ivan the terrible came to the terek, sent for their elders, and gave them the land on this side of the river, exhorting them to remain friendly to russia and promising not to enforce his rule upon them nor oblige them to change their faith. even now the cossack families claim relationship with the chechens, and the love of freedom, of leisure, of plunder and of war, still form their chief characteristics. only the harmful side of russian influence shows itself--by interference at elections, by confiscation of church bells, and by the troops who are quartered in the country or march through it. a cossack is inclined to hate less the dzhigit hillsman who maybe has killed his brother, than the soldier quartered on him to defend his village, but who has defiled his hut with tobacco-smoke. he respects his enemy the hillsman and despises the soldier, who is in his eyes an alien and an oppressor. in reality, from a cossack's point of view a russian peasant is a foreign, savage, despicable creature, of whom he sees a sample in the hawkers who come to the country and in the ukrainian immigrants whom the cossack contemptuously calls 'woolbeaters'. for him, to be smartly dressed means to be dressed like a circassian. the best weapons are obtained from the hillsmen and the best horses are bought, or stolen, from them. a dashing young cossack likes to show off his knowledge of tartar, and when carousing talks tartar even to his fellow cossack. in spite of all these things this small christian clan stranded in a tiny corner of the earth, surrounded by half-savage mohammedan tribes and by soldiers, considers itself highly advanced, acknowledges none but cossacks as human beings, and despises everybody else. the cossack spends most of his time in the cordon, in action, or in hunting and fishing. he hardly ever works at home. when he stays in the village it is an exception to the general rule and then he is holiday-making. all cossacks make their own wine, and drunkenness is not so much a general tendency as a rite, the non-fulfilment of which would be considered apostasy. the cossack looks upon a woman as an instrument for his welfare; only the unmarried girls are allowed to amuse themselves. a married woman has to work for her husband from youth to very old age: his demands on her are the oriental ones of submission and labour. in consequence of this outlook women are strongly developed both physically and mentally, and though they are--as everywhere in the east--nominally in subjection, they possess far greater influence and importance in family-life than western women. their exclusion from public life and inurement to heavy male labour give the women all the more power and importance in the household. a cossack, who before strangers considers it improper to speak affectionately or needlessly to his wife, when alone with her is involuntarily conscious of her superiority. his house and all his property, in fact the entire homestead, has been acquired and is kept together solely by her labour and care. though firmly convinced that labour is degrading to a cossack and is only proper for a nogay labourer or a woman, he is vaguely aware of the fact that all he makes use of and calls his own is the result of that toil, and that it is in the power of the woman (his mother or his wife) whom he considers his slave, to deprive him of all he possesses. besides, the continuous performance of man's heavy work and the responsibilities entrusted to her have endowed the grebensk women with a peculiarly independent masculine character and have remarkably developed their physical powers, common sense, resolution, and stability. the women are in most cases stronger, more intelligent, more developed, and handsomer than the men. a striking feature of a grebensk woman's beauty is the combination of the purest circassian type of face with the broad and powerful build of northern women. cossack women wear the circassian dress--a tartar smock, beshmet, and soft slippers--but they tie their kerchiefs round their heads in the russian fashion. smartness, cleanliness and elegance in dress and in the arrangement of their huts, are with them a custom and a necessity. in their relations with men the women, and especially the unmarried girls, enjoy perfect freedom. novomlinsk village was considered the very heart of grebensk cossackdom. in it more than elsewhere the customs of the old grebensk population have been preserved, and its women have from time immemorial been renowned all over the caucasus for their beauty. a cossack's livelihood is derived from vineyards, fruit-gardens, water melon and pumpkin plantations, from fishing, hunting, maize and millet growing, and from war plunder. novomlinsk village lies about two and a half miles away from the terek, from which it is separated by a dense forest. on one side of the road which runs through the village is the river; on the other, green vineyards and orchards, beyond which are seen the driftsands of the nogay steppe. the village is surrounded by earth-banks and prickly bramble hedges, and is entered by tall gates hung between posts and covered with little reed-thatched roofs. beside them on a wooden gun-carriage stands an unwieldy cannon captured by the cossacks at some time or other, and which has not been fired for a hundred years. a uniformed cossack sentinel with dagger and gun sometimes stands, and sometimes does not stand, on guard beside the gates, and sometimes presents arms to a passing officer and sometimes does not. below the roof of the gateway is written in black letters on a white board: 'houses : male inhabitants : female .' the cossacks' houses are all raised on pillars two and a half feet from the ground. they are carefully thatched with reeds and have large carved gables. if not new they are at least all straight and clean, with high porches of different shapes; and they are not built close together but have ample space around them, and are all picturesquely placed along broad streets and lanes. in front of the large bright windows of many of the houses, beyond the kitchen gardens, dark green poplars and acacias with their delicate pale verdure and scented white blossoms overtop the houses, and beside them grow flaunting yellow sunflowers, creepers, and grape vines. in the broad open square are three shops where drapery, sunflower and pumpkin seeds, locust beans and gingerbreads are sold; and surrounded by a tall fence, loftier and larger than the other houses, stands the regimental commander's dwelling with its casement windows, behind a row of tall poplars. few people are to be seen in the streets of the village on weekdays, especially in summer. the young men are on duty in the cordons or on military expeditions; the old ones are fishing or helping the women in the orchards and gardens. only the very old, the sick, and the children, remain at home. chapter v it was one of those wonderful evenings that occur only in the caucasus. the sun had sunk behind the mountains but it was still light. the evening glow had spread over a third of the sky, and against its brilliancy the dull white immensity of the mountains was sharply defined. the air was rarefied, motionless, and full of sound. the shadow of the mountains reached for several miles over the steppe. the steppe, the opposite side of the river, and the roads, were all deserted. if very occasionally mounted men appeared, the cossacks in the cordon and the chechens in their aouls (villages) watched them with surprised curiosity and tried to guess who those questionable men could be. at nightfall people from fear of one another flock to their dwellings, and only birds and beasts fearless of man prowl in those deserted spaces. talking merrily, the women who have been tying up the vines hurry away from the gardens before sunset. the vineyards, like all the surrounding district, are deserted, but the villages become very animated at that time of the evening. from all sides, walking, riding, or driving in their creaking carts, people move towards the village. girls with their smocks tucked up and twigs in their hands run chatting merrily to the village gates to meet the cattle that are crowding together in a cloud of dust and mosquitoes which they bring with them from the steppe. the well-fed cows and buffaloes disperse at a run all over the streets and cossack women in coloured beshmets go to and fro among them. you can hear their merry laughter and shrieks mingling with the lowing of the cattle. there an armed and mounted cossack, on leave from the cordon, rides up to a hut and, leaning towards the window, knocks. in answer to the knock the handsome head of a young woman appears at the window and you can hear caressing, laughing voices. there a tattered nogay labourer, with prominent cheekbones, brings a load of reeds from the steppes, turns his creaking cart into the cossack captain's broad and clean courtyard, and lifts the yoke off the oxen that stand tossing their heads while he and his master shout to one another in tartar. past a puddle that reaches nearly across the street, a barefooted cossack woman with a bundle of firewood on her back makes her laborious way by clinging to the fences, holding her smock high and exposing her white legs. a cossack returning from shooting calls out in jest: 'lift it higher, shameless thing!' and points his gun at her. the woman lets down her smock and drops the wood. an old cossack, returning home from fishing with his trousers tucked up and his hairy grey chest uncovered, has a net across his shoulder containing silvery fish that are still struggling; and to take a short cut climbs over his neighbour's broken fence and gives a tug to his coat which has caught on the fence. there a woman is dragging a dry branch along and from round the corner comes the sound of an axe. cossack children, spinning their tops wherever there is a smooth place in the street, are shrieking; women are climbing over fences to avoid going round. from every chimney rises the odorous kisyak smoke. from every homestead comes the sound of increased bustle, precursor to the stillness of night. granny ulitka, the wife of the cossack cornet who is also teacher in the regimental school, goes out to the gates of her yard like the other women, and waits for the cattle which her daughter maryanka is driving along the street. before she has had time fully to open the wattle gate in the fence, an enormous buffalo cow surrounded by mosquitoes rushes up bellowing and squeezes in. several well-fed cows slowly follow her, their large eyes gazing with recognition at their mistress as they swish their sides with their tails. the beautiful and shapely maryanka enters at the gate and throwing away her switch quickly slams the gate to and rushes with all the speed of her nimble feet to separate and drive the cattle into their sheds. 'take off your slippers, you devil's wench!' shouts her mother, 'you've worn them into holes!' maryanka is not at all offended at being called a 'devil's wench', but accepting it as a term of endearment cheerfully goes on with her task. her face is covered with a kerchief tied round her head. she is wearing a pink smock and a green beshmet. she disappears inside the lean-to shed in the yard, following the big fat cattle; and from the shed comes her voice as she speaks gently and persuasively to the buffalo: 'won't she stand still? what a creature! come now, come old dear!' soon the girl and the old woman pass from the shed to the dairy carrying two large pots of milk, the day's yield. from the dairy chimney rises a thin cloud of kisyak smoke: the milk is being used to make into clotted cream. the girl makes up the fire while her mother goes to the gate. twilight has fallen on the village. the air is full of the smell of vegetables, cattle, and scented kisyak smoke. from the gates and along the streets cossack women come running, carrying lighted rags. from the yards one hears the snorting and quiet chewing of the cattle eased of their milk, while in the street only the voices of women and children sound as they call to one another. it is rare on a week-day to hear the drunken voice of a man. one of the cossack wives, a tall, masculine old woman, approaches granny ulitka from the homestead opposite and asks her for a light. in her hand she holds a rag. 'have you cleared up. granny?' 'the girl is lighting the fire. is it fire you want?' says granny ulitka, proud of being able to oblige her neighbour. both women enter the hut, and coarse hands unused to dealing with small articles tremblingly lift the lid of a matchbox, which is a rarity in the caucasus. the masculine-looking new-comer sits down on the doorstep with the evident intention of having a chat. 'and is your man at the school. mother?' she asked. 'he's always teaching the youngsters. mother. but he writes that he'll come home for the holidays,' said the cornet's wife. 'yes, he's a clever man, one sees; it all comes useful.' 'of course it does.' 'and my lukashka is at the cordon; they won't let him come home,' said the visitor, though the cornet's wife had known all this long ago. she wanted to talk about her lukashka whom she had lately fitted out for service in the cossack regiment, and whom she wished to marry to the cornet's daughter, maryanka. 'so he's at the cordon?' 'he is. mother. he's not been home since last holidays. the other day i sent him some shirts by fomushkin. he says he's all right, and that his superiors are satisfied. he says they are looking out for abreks again. lukashka is quite happy, he says.' 'ah well, thank god,' said the cornet's wife.' "snatcher" is certainly the only word for him.' lukashka was surnamed 'the snatcher' because of his bravery in snatching a boy from a watery grave, and the cornet's wife alluded to this, wishing in her turn to say something agreeable to lukashka's mother. 'i thank god, mother, that he's a good son! he's a fine fellow, everyone praises him,' says lukashka's mother. 'all i wish is to get him married; then i could die in peace.' 'well, aren't there plenty of young women in the village?' answered the cornet's wife slyly as she carefully replaced the lid of the matchbox with her horny hands. 'plenty, mother, plenty,' remarked lukashka's mother, shaking her head. 'there's your girl now, your maryanka--that's the sort of girl! you'd have to search through the whole place to find such another!' the cornet's wife knows what lukashka's mother is after, but though she believes him to be a good cossack she hangs back: first because she is a cornet's wife and rich, while lukashka is the son of a simple cossack and fatherless, secondly because she does not want to part with her daughter yet, but chiefly because propriety demands it. 'well, when maryanka grows up she'll be marriageable too,' she answers soberly and modestly. 'i'll send the matchmakers to you--i'll send them! only let me get the vineyard done and then we'll come and make our bows to you,' says lukashka's mother. 'and we'll make our bows to elias vasilich too.' 'elias, indeed!' says the cornet's wife proudly. 'it's to me you must speak! all in its own good time.' lukashka's mother sees by the stern face of the cornet's wife that it is not the time to say anything more just now, so she lights her rag with the match and says, rising: 'don't refuse us, think of my words. i'll go, it is time to light the fire.' as she crosses the road swinging the burning rag, she meets maryanka, who bows. 'ah, she's a regular queen, a splendid worker, that girl!' she thinks, looking at the beautiful maiden. 'what need for her to grow any more? it's time she was married and to a good home; married to lukashka!' but granny ulitka had her own cares and she remained sitting on the threshold thinking hard about something, till the girl called her. chapter vi the male population of the village spend their time on military expeditions and in the cordon--or 'at their posts', as the cossacks say. towards evening, that same lukashka the snatcher, about whom the old women had been talking, was standing on a watch-tower of the nizhni-prototsk post situated on the very banks of the terek. leaning on the railing of the tower and screwing up his eyes, he looked now far into the distance beyond the terek, now down at his fellow cossacks, and occasionally he addressed the latter. the sun was already approaching the snowy range that gleamed white above the fleecy clouds. the clouds undulating at the base of the mountains grew darker and darker. the clearness of evening was noticeable in the air. a sense of freshness came from the woods, though round the post it was still hot. the voices of the talking cossacks vibrated more sonorously than before. the moving mass of the terek's rapid brown waters contrasted more vividly with its motionless banks. the waters were beginning to subside and here and there the wet sands gleamed drab on the banks and in the shallows. the other side of the river, just opposite the cordon, was deserted; only an immense waste of low-growing reeds stretched far away to the very foot of the mountains. on the low bank, a little to one side, could be seen the flat-roofed clay houses and the funnel-shaped chimneys of a chechen village. the sharp eyes of the cossack who stood on the watch-tower followed, through the evening smoke of the pro-russian village, the tiny moving figures of the chechen women visible in the distance in their red and blue garments. although the cossacks expected abreks to cross over and attack them from the tartar side at any moment, especially as it was may when the woods by the terek are so dense that it is difficult to pass through them on foot and the river is shallow enough in places for a horseman to ford it, and despite the fact that a couple of days before a cossack had arrived with a circular from the commander of the regiment announcing that spies had reported the intention of a party of some eight men to cross the terek, and ordering special vigilance--no special vigilance was being observed in the cordon. the cossacks, unarmed and with their horses unsaddled just as if they were at home, spent their time some in fishing, some in drinking, and some in hunting. only the horse of the man on duty was saddled, and with its feet hobbled was moving about by the brambles near the wood, and only the sentinel had his circassian coat on and carried a gun and sword. the corporal, a tall thin cossack with an exceptionally long back and small hands and feet, was sitting on the earth-bank of a hut with his beshmet unbuttoned. on his face was the lazy, bored expression of a superior, and having shut his eyes he dropped his head upon the palm first of one hand and then of the other. an elderly cossack with a broad greyish-black beard was lying in his shirt, girdled with a black strap, close to the river and gazing lazily at the waves of the terek as they monotonously foamed and swirled. others, also overcome by the heat and half naked, were rinsing clothes in the terek, plaiting a fishing line, or humming tunes as they lay on the hot sand of the river bank. one cossack, with a thin face much burnt by the sun, lay near the hut evidently dead drunk, by a wall which though it had been in shadow some two hours previously was now exposed to the sun's fierce slanting rays. lukashka, who stood on the watch-tower, was a tall handsome lad about twenty years old and very like his mother. his face and whole build, in spite of the angularity of youth, indicated great strength, both physical and moral. though he had only lately joined the cossacks at the front, it was evident from the expression of his face and the calm assurance of his attitude that he had already acquired the somewhat proud and warlike bearing peculiar to cossacks and to men generally who continually carry arms, and that he felt he was a cossack and fully knew his own value. his ample circassian coat was torn in some places, his cap was on the back of his head chechen fashion, and his leggings had slipped below his knees. his clothing was not rich, but he wore it with that peculiar cossack foppishness which consists in imitating the chechen brave. everything on a real brave is ample, ragged, and neglected, only his weapons are costly. but these ragged clothes and these weapons are belted and worn with a certain air and matched in a certain manner, neither of which can be acquired by everybody and which at once strike the eye of a cossack or a hillsman. lukashka had this resemblance to a brave. with his hands folded under his sword, and his eyes nearly closed, he kept looking at the distant tartar village. taken separately his features were not beautiful, but anyone who saw his stately carriage and his dark-browed intelligent face would involuntarily say, 'what a fine fellow!' 'look at the women, what a lot of them are walking about in the village,' said he in a sharp voice, languidly showing his brilliant white teeth and not addressing anyone in particular. nazarka who was lying below immediately lifted his head and remarked: 'they must be going for water.' 'supposing one scared them with a gun?' said lukashka, laughing, 'wouldn't they be frightened?' 'it wouldn't reach.' 'what! mine would carry beyond. just wait a bit, and when their feast comes round i'll go and visit girey khan and drink buza there,' said lukashka, angrily swishing away the mosquitoes which attached themselves to him. a rustling in the thicket drew the cossack's attention. a pied mongrel half-setter, searching for a scent and violently wagging its scantily furred tail, came running to the cordon. lukashka recognized the dog as one belonging to his neighbour, uncle eroshka, a hunter, and saw, following it through the thicket, the approaching figure of the hunter himself. uncle eroshka was a gigantic cossack with a broad, snow-white beard and such broad shoulders and chest that in the wood, where there was no one to compare him with, he did not look particularly tall, so well proportioned were his powerful limbs. he wore a tattered coat and, over the bands with which his legs were swathed, sandals made of undressed deer's hide tied on with strings; while on his head he had a rough little white cap. he carried over one shoulder a screen to hide behind when shooting pheasants, and a bag containing a hen for luring hawks, and a small falcon; over the other shoulder, attached by a strap, was a wild cat he had killed; and stuck in his belt behind were some little bags containing bullets, gunpowder, and bread, a horse's tail to swish away the mosquitoes, a large dagger in a torn scabbard smeared with old bloodstains, and two dead pheasants. having glanced at the cordon he stopped. 'hy, lyam!' he called to the dog in such a ringing bass that it awoke an echo far away in the wood; and throwing over his shoulder his big gun, of the kind the cossacks call a 'flint', he raised his cap. 'had a good day, good people, eh?' he said, addressing the cossacks in the same strong and cheerful voice, quite without effort, but as loudly as if he were shouting to someone on the other bank of the river. 'yes, yes. uncle!' answered from all sides the voices of the young cossacks. 'what have you seen? tell us!' shouted uncle eroshka, wiping the sweat from his broad red face with the sleeve of his coat. 'ah, there's a vulture living in the plane tree here, uncle. as soon as night comes he begins hovering round,' said nazarka, winking and jerking his shoulder and leg. 'come, come!' said the old man incredulously. 'really, uncle! you must keep watch,' replied nazarka with a laugh. the other cossacks began laughing. the wag had not seen any vulture at all, but it had long been the custom of the young cossacks in the cordon to tease and mislead uncle eroshka every time he came to them. 'eh, you fool, always lying!' exclaimed lukashka from the tower to nazarka. nazarka was immediately silenced. 'it must be watched. i'll watch,' answered the old man to the great delight of all the cossacks. 'but have you seen any boars?' 'watching for boars, are you?' said the corporal, bending forward and scratching his back with both hands, very pleased at the chance of some distraction. 'it's abreks one has to hunt here and not boars! you've not heard anything, uncle, have you?' he added, needlessly screwing up his eyes and showing his close-set white teeth. 'abreks,' said the old man. 'no, i haven't. i say, have you any chikhir? let me have a drink, there's a good man. i'm really quite done up. when the time comes i'll bring you some fresh meat, i really will. give me a drink!' he added. 'well, and are you going to watch?' inquired the corporal, as though he had not heard what the other said. 'i did mean to watch tonight,' replied uncle eroshka. 'maybe, with god's help, i shall kill something for the holiday. then you shall have a share, you shall indeed!' 'uncle! hallo, uncle!' called out lukashka sharply from above, attracting everybody's attention. all the cossacks looked up at him. 'just go to the upper water-course, there's a fine herd of boars there. i'm not inventing, really! the other day one of our cossacks shot one there. i'm telling you the truth,' added he, readjusting the musket at his back and in a tone that showed he was not joking. 'ah! lukashka the snatcher is here!' said the old man, looking up. 'where has he been shooting?' 'haven't you seen? i suppose you're too young!' said lukashka. 'close by the ditch,' he went on seriously with a shake of the head. 'we were just going along the ditch when all at once we heard something crackling, but my gun was in its case. elias fired suddenly ... but i'll show you the place, it's not far. you just wait a bit. i know every one of their footpaths ... daddy mosev,' said he, turning resolutely and almost commandingly to the corporal, 'it's time to relieve guard!' and holding aloft his gun he began to descend from the watch-tower without waiting for the order. 'come down!' said the corporal, after lukashka had started, and glanced round. 'is it your turn, gurka? then go ... true enough your lukashka has become very skilful,' he went on, addressing the old man. 'he keeps going about just like you, he doesn't stay at home. the other day he killed a boar.' chapter vii the sun had already set and the shades of night were rapidly spreading from the edge of the wood. the cossacks finished their task round the cordon and gathered in the hut for supper. only the old man still stayed under the plane tree watching for the vulture and pulling the string tied to the falcon's leg, but though a vulture was really perching on the plane tree it declined to swoop down on the lure. lukashka, singing one song after another, was leisurely placing nets among the very thickest brambles to trap pheasants. in spite of his tall stature and big hands every kind of work, both rough and delicate, prospered under lukashka's fingers. 'hallo, luke!' came nazarka's shrill, sharp voice calling him from the thicket close by. 'the cossacks have gone in to supper.' nazarka, with a live pheasant under his arm, forced his way through the brambles and emerged on the footpath. 'oh!' said lukashka, breaking off in his song, 'where did you get that cock pheasant? i suppose it was in my trap?' nazarka was of the same age as lukashka and had also only been at the front since the previous spring. he was plain, thin and puny, with a shrill voice that rang in one's ears. they were neighbours and comrades. lukashka was sitting on the grass crosslegged like a tartar, adjusting his nets. 'i don't know whose it was--yours, i expect.' 'was it beyond the pit by the plane tree? then it is mine! i set the nets last night.' lukashka rose and examined the captured pheasant. after stroking the dark burnished head of the bird, which rolled its eyes and stretched out its neck in terror, lukashka took the pheasant in his hands. 'we'll have it in a pilau tonight. you go and kill and pluck it.' 'and shall we eat it ourselves or give it to the corporal?' 'he has plenty!' 'i don't like killing them,' said nazarka. 'give it here!' lukashka drew a little knife from under his dagger and gave it a swift jerk. the bird fluttered, but before it could spread its wings the bleeding head bent and quivered. 'that's how one should do it!' said lukashka, throwing down the pheasant. 'it will make a fat pilau.' nazarka shuddered as he looked at the bird. 'i say, lukashka, that fiend will be sending us to the ambush again tonight,' he said, taking up the bird. (he was alluding to the corporal.) 'he has sent fomushkin to get wine, and it ought to be his turn. he always puts it on us.' lukashka went whistling along the cordon. 'take the string with you,' he shouted. nazirka obeyed. 'i'll give him a bit of my mind today, i really will,' continued nazarka. 'let's say we won't go; we're tired out and there's an end of it! no, really, you tell him, he'll listen to you. it's too bad!' 'get along with you! what a thing to make a fuss about!' said lukashka, evidently thinking of something else. 'what bosh! if he made us turn out of the village at night now, that would be annoying: there one can have some fun, but here what is there? it's all one whether we're in the cordon or in ambush. what a fellow you are!' 'and are you going to the village?' 'i'll go for the holidays.' 'gurka says your dunayka is carrying on with fomushkin,' said nazarka suddenly. 'well, let her go to the devil,' said lukashka, showing his regular white teeth, though he did not laugh. 'as if i couldn't find another!' 'gurka says he went to her house. her husband was out and there was fomushkin sitting and eating pie. gurka stopped awhile and then went away, and passing by the window he heard her say, "he's gone, the fiend.... why don't you eat your pie, my own? you needn't go home for the night," she says. and gurka under the window says to himself, "that's fine!"' 'you're making it up.' 'no, quite true, by heaven!' 'well, if she's found another let her go to the devil,' said lukashka, after a pause. 'there's no lack of girls and i was sick of her anyway.' 'well, see what a devil you are!' said nazarka. 'you should make up to the cornet's girl, maryanka. why doesn't she walk out with any one?' lukashka frowned. 'what of maryanka? they're all alike,' said he. 'well, you just try...' 'what do you think? are girls so scarce in the village?' and lukashka recommenced whistling, and went along the cordon pulling leaves and branches from the bushes as he went. suddenly, catching sight of a smooth sapling, he drew the knife from the handle of his dagger and cut it down. 'what a ramrod it will make,' he said, swinging the sapling till it whistled through the air. the cossacks were sitting round a low tartar table on the earthen floor of the clay-plastered outer room of the hut, when the question of whose turn it was to lie in ambush was raised. 'who is to go tonight?' shouted one of the cossacks through the open door to the corporal in the next room. 'who is to go?' the corporal shouted back. 'uncle burlak has been and fomushkin too,' said he, not quite confidently. 'you two had better go, you and nazarka,' he went on, addressing lukashka. 'and ergushov must go too; surely he has slept it off?' 'you don't sleep it off yourself so why should he?' said nazarka in a subdued voice. the cossacks laughed. ergushov was the cossack who had been lying drunk and asleep near the hut. he had only that moment staggered into the room rubbing his eyes. lukashka had already risen and was getting his gun ready. 'be quick and go! finish your supper and go!' said the corporal; and without waiting for an expression of consent he shut the door, evidently not expecting the cossack to obey. 'of course,' thought he, 'if i hadn't been ordered to i wouldn't send anyone, but an officer might turn up at any moment. as it is, they say eight abreks have crossed over.' 'well, i suppose i must go,' remarked ergushov, 'it's the regulation. can't be helped! the times are such. i say, we must go.' meanwhile lukashka, holding a big piece of pheasant to his mouth with both hands and glancing now at nazarka, now at ergushov, seemed quite indifferent to what passed and only laughed at them both. before the cossacks were ready to go into ambush. uncle eroshka, who had been vainly waiting under the plane tree till night fell, entered the dark outer room. 'well, lads,' his loud bass resounded through the low-roofed room drowning all the other voices, 'i'm going with you. you'll watch for chechens and i for boars!' chapter viii it was quite dark when uncle eroshka and the three cossacks, in their cloaks and shouldering their guns, left the cordon and went towards the place on the terek where they were to lie in ambush. nazarka did not want to go at all, but lukashka shouted at him and they soon started. after they had gone a few steps in silence the cossacks turned aside from the ditch and went along a path almost hidden by reeds till they reached the river. on its bank lay a thick black log cast up by the water. the reeds around it had been recently beaten down. 'shall we lie here?' asked nazarka. 'why not?' answered lukashka. 'sit down here and i'll be back in a minute. i'll only show daddy where to go.' 'this is the best place; here we can see and not be seen,' said ergushov, 'so it's here we'll lie. it's a first-rate place!' nazarka and ergushov spread out their cloaks and settled down behind the log, while lukashka went on with uncle eroshka. 'it's not far from here. daddy,' said lukashka, stepping softly in front of the old man; 'i'll show you where they've been--i'm the only one that knows. daddy.' 'show me! you're a fine fellow, a regular snatcher!' replied the old man, also whispering. having gone a few steps lukashka stopped, stooped down over a puddle, and whistled. 'that's where they come to drink, d'you see?' he spoke in a scarcely audible voice, pointing to fresh hoof-prints. 'christ bless you,' answered the old man. 'the boar will be in the hollow beyond the ditch,' he added. til watch, and you can go.' lukashka pulled his cloak up higher and walked back alone, throwing swift glances now to the left at the wall of reeds, now to the terek rushing by below the bank. 'i daresay he's watching or creeping along somewhere,' thought he of a possible chechen hillsman. suddenly a loud rustling and a splash in the water made him start and seize his musket. from under the bank a boar leapt up--his dark outline showing for a moment against the glassy surface of the water and then disappearing among the reeds. lukashka pulled out his gun and aimed, but before he could fire the boar had disappeared in the thicket. lukashka spat with vexation and went on. on approaching the ambuscade he halted again and whistled softly. his whistle was answered and he stepped up to his comrades. nazarka, all curled up, was already asleep. ergushov sat with his legs crossed and moved slightly to make room for lukashka. 'how jolly it is to sit here! it's really a good place,' said he. 'did you take him there?' 'showed him where,' answered lukashka, spreading out his cloak. 'but what a big boar i roused just now close to the water! i expect it was the very one! you must have heard the crash?' 'i did hear a beast crashing through. i knew at once it was a beast. i thought to myself: "lukashka has roused a beast,"' ergushov said, wrapping himself up in his cloak. 'now i'll go to sleep,' he added. 'wake me when the cocks crow. we must have discipline. i'll lie down and have a nap, and then you will have a nap and i'll watch--that's the way.' 'luckily i don't want to sleep,' answered lukashka. the night was dark, warm, and still. only on one side of the sky the stars were shining, the other and greater part was overcast by one huge cloud stretching from the mountaintops. the black cloud, blending in the absence of any wind with the mountains, moved slowly onwards, its curved edges sharply denned against the deep starry sky. only in front of him could the cossack discern the terek and the distance beyond. behind and on both sides he was surrounded by a wall of reeds. occasionally the reeds would sway and rustle against one another apparently without cause. seen from down below, against the clear part of the sky, their waving tufts looked like the feathery branches of trees. close in front at his very feet was the bank, and at its base the rushing torrent. a little farther on was the moving mass of glassy brown water which eddied rhythmically along the bank and round the shallows. farther still, water, banks, and cloud all merged together in impenetrable gloom. along the surface of the water floated black shadows, in which the experienced eyes of the cossack detected trees carried down by the current. only very rarely sheet-lightning, mirrored in the water as in a black glass, disclosed the sloping bank opposite. the rhythmic sounds of night--the rustling of the reeds, the snoring of the cossacks, the hum of mosquitoes, and the rushing water, were every now and then broken by a shot fired in the distance, or by the gurgling of water when a piece of bank slipped down, the splash of a big fish, or the crashing of an animal breaking through the thick undergrowth in the wood. once an owl flew past along the terek, flapping one wing against the other rhythmically at every second beat. just above the cossack's head it turned towards the wood and then, striking its wings no longer after every other flap but at every flap, it flew to an old plane tree where it rustled about for a long time before settling down among the branches. at every one of these unexpected sounds the watching cossack listened intently, straining his hearing, and screwing up his eyes while he deliberately felt for his musket. the greater part of the night was past. the black cloud that had moved westward revealed the clear starry sky from under its torn edge, and the golden upturned crescent of the moon shone above the mountains with a reddish light. the cold began to be penetrating. nazarka awoke, spoke a little, and fell asleep again. lukashka feeling bored got up, drew the knife from his dagger-handle and began to fashion his stick into a ramrod. his head was full of the chechens who lived over there in the mountains, and of how their brave lads came across and were not afraid of the cossacks, and might even now be crossing the river at some other spot. he thrust himself out of his hiding-place and looked along the river but could see nothing. and as he continued looking out at intervals upon the river and at the opposite bank, now dimly distinguishable from the water in the faint moonlight, he no longer thought about the chechens but only of when it would be time to wake his comrades, and of going home to the village. in the village he imagined dunayka, his 'little soul', as the cossacks call a man's mistress, and thought of her with vexation. silvery mists, a sign of coming morning, glittered white above the water, and not far from him young eagles were whistling and flapping their wings. at last the crowing of a cock reached him from the distant village, followed by the long-sustained note of another, which was again answered by yet other voices. 'time to wake them,' thought lukashka, who had finished his ramrod and felt his eyes growing heavy. turning to his comrades he managed to make out which pair of legs belonged to whom, when it suddenly seemed to him that he heard something splash on the other side of the terek. he turned again towards the horizon beyond the hills, where day was breaking under the upturned crescent, glanced at the outline of the opposite bank, at the terek, and at the now distinctly visible driftwood upon it. for one instant it seemed to him that he was moving and that the terek with the drifting wood remained stationary. again he peered out. one large black log with a branch particularly attracted his attention. the tree was floating in a strange way right down the middle of the stream, neither rocking nor whirling. it even appeared not to be floating altogether with the current, but to be crossing it in the direction of the shallows. lukashka stretching out his neck watched it intently. the tree floated to the shallows, stopped, and shifted in a peculiar manner. lukashka thought he saw an arm stretched out from beneath the tree. 'supposing i killed an abrek all by myself!' he thought, and seized his gun with a swift, unhurried movement, putting up his gun-rest, placing the gun upon it, and holding it noiselessly in position. cocking the trigger, with bated breath he took aim, still peering out intently. 'i won't wake them,' he thought. but his heart began beating so fast that he remained motionless, listening. suddenly the trunk gave a plunge and again began to float across the stream towards our bank. 'only not to miss ...' thought he, and now by the faint light of the moon he caught a glimpse of a tartar's head in front of the floating wood. he aimed straight at the head which appeared to be quite near--just at the end of his rifle's barrel. he glanced cross. 'right enough it is an abrek! he thought joyfully, and suddenly rising to his knees he again took aim. having found the sight, barely visible at the end of the long gun, he said: 'in the name of the father and of the son,' in the cossack way learnt in his childhood, and pulled the trigger. a flash of lightning lit up for an instant the reeds and the water, and the sharp, abrupt report of the shot was carried across the river, changing into a prolonged roll somewhere in the far distance. the piece of driftwood now floated not across, but with the current, rocking and whirling. 'stop, i say!' exclaimed ergushov, seizing his musket and raising himself behind the log near which he was lying. 'shut up, you devil!' whispered lukashka, grinding his teeth. 'abreks!' 'whom have you shot?' asked nazarka. 'who was it, lukashka?' lukashka did not answer. he was reloading his gun and watching the floating wood. a little way off it stopped on a sand-bank, and from behind it something large that rocked in the water came into view. 'what did you shoot? why don't you speak?' insisted the cossacks. 'abreks, i tell you!' said lukashka. 'don't humbug! did the gun go off? ...' 'i've killed an abrek, that's what i fired at,' muttered lukashka in a voice choked by emotion, as he jumped to his feet. 'a man was swimming...' he said, pointing to the sandbank. 'i killed him. just look there.' 'have done with your humbugging!' said ergushov again, rubbing his eyes. 'have done with what? look there,' said lukashka, seizing him by the shoulders and pulling him with such force that ergushov groaned. he looked in the direction in which lukashka pointed, and discerning a body immediately changed his tone. 'o lord! but i say, more will come! i tell you the truth,' said he softly, and began examining his musket. 'that was a scout swimming across: either the others are here already or are not far off on the other side--i tell you for sure!' lukashka was unfastening his belt and taking off his circassian coat. 'what are you up to, you idiot?' exclaimed ergushov. 'only show yourself and you've lost all for nothing, i tell you true! if you've killed him he won't escape. let me have a little powder for my musket-pan--you have some? nazarka, you go back to the cordon and look alive; but don't go along the bank or you'll be killed--i tell you true.' 'catch me going alone! go yourself!' said nazarka angrily. having taken off his coat, lukashka went down to the bank. 'don't go in, i tell you!' said ergushov, putting some powder on the pan. 'look, he's not moving. i can see. it's nearly morning; wait till they come from the cordon. you go, nazarka. you're afraid! don't be afraid, i tell you.' 'luke, i say, lukashka! tell us how you did it!' said nazarka. lukashka changed his mind about going into the water just then. 'go quick to the cordon and i will watch. tell the cossacks to send out the patrol. if the abreks are on this side they must be caught,' said he. 'that's what i say. they'll get off,' said ergushov, rising. 'true, they must be caught!' ergushov and nazarka rose and, crossing themselves, started off for the cordon--not along the riverbank but breaking their way through the brambles to reach a path in the wood. 'now mind, lukashka--they may cut you down here, so you'd best keep a sharp look-out, i tell you!' 'go along; i know,' muttered lukashka; and having examined his gun again he sat down behind the log. he remained alone and sat gazing at the shallows and listening for the cossacks; but it was some distance to the cordon and he was tormented by impatience. he kept thinking that the other abreks who were with the one he had killed would escape. he was vexed with the abreks who were going to escape just as he had been with the boar that had escaped the evening before. he glanced round and at the opposite bank, expecting every moment to see a man, and having arranged his gun-rest he was ready to fire. the idea that he might himself be killed never entered his head. chapter ix it was growing light. the chechen's body which was gently rocking in the shallow water was now clearly visible. suddenly the reeds rustled not far from luke and he heard steps and saw the feathery tops of the reeds moving. he set his gun at full cock and muttered: 'in the name of the father and of the son,' but when the cock clicked the sound of steps ceased. 'hallo, cossacks! don't kill your daddy!' said a deep bass voice calmly; and moving the reeds apart daddy eroshka came up close to luke. 'i very nearly killed you, by god i did!' said lukashka. 'what have you shot?' asked the old man. his sonorous voice resounded through the wood and downward along the river, suddenly dispelling the mysterious quiet of night around the cossack. it was as if everything had suddenly become lighter and more distinct. 'there now. uncle, you have not seen anything, but i've killed a beast,' said lukashka, uncocking his gun and getting up with unnatural calmness. the old man was staring intently at the white back, now clearly visible, against which the terek rippled. 'he was swimming with a log on his back. i spied him out! ... look there. there! he's got blue trousers, and a gun i think.... do you see?' inquired luke. 'how can one help seeing?' said the old man angrily, and a serious and stern expression appeared on his face. 'you've killed a brave,' he said, apparently with regret. 'well, i sat here and suddenly saw something dark on the other side. i spied him when he was still over there. it was as if a man had come there and fallen in. strange! and a piece of driftwood, a good-sized piece, comes floating, not with the stream but across it; and what do i see but a head appearing from under it! strange! i stretched out of the reeds but could see nothing; then i rose and he must have heard, the beast, and crept out into the shallow and looked about. "no, you don't!" i said, as soon as he landed and looked round, "you won't get away!" oh, there was something choking me! i got my gun ready but did not stir, and looked out. he waited a little and then swam out again; and when he came into the moonlight i could see his whole back. "in the name of the father and of the son and of the holy ghost"... and through the smoke i see him struggling. he moaned, or so it seemed to me. "ah," i thought, "the lord be thanked, i've killed him!" and when he drifted onto the sand-bank i could see him distinctly: he tried to get up but couldn't. he struggled a bit and then lay down. everything could be seen. look, he does not move--he must be dead! the cossacks have gone back to the cordon in case there should be any more of them.' 'and so you got him!' said the old man. 'he is far away now, my lad! ...' and again he shook his head sadly. just then the sound reached them of breaking bushes and the loud voices of cossacks approaching along the bank on horseback and on foot. 'are you bringing the skiff?' shouted lukashka. 'you're a trump, luke! lug it to the bank!' shouted one of the cossacks. without waiting for the skiff lukashka began to undress, keeping an eye all the while on his prey. 'wait a bit, nazarka is bringing the skiff,' shouted the corporal. 'you fool! maybe he is alive and only pretending! take your dagger with you!' shouted another cossack. 'get along,' cried luke, pulling off his trousers. he quickly undressed and, crossing himself, jumped, plunging with a splash into the river. then with long strokes of his white arms, lifting his back high out of the water and breathing deeply, he swam across the current of the terek towards the shallows. a crowd of cossacks stood on the bank talking loudly. three horsemen rode off to patrol. the skiff appeared round a bend. lukashka stood up on the sandbank, leaned over the body, and gave it a couple of shakes. 'quite dead!' he shouted in a shrill voice. the chechen had been shot in the head. he had on a pair of blue trousers, a shirt, and a circassian coat, and a gun and dagger were tied to his back. above all these a large branch was tied, and it was this which at first had misled lukashka. 'what a carp you've landed!' cried one of the cossacks who had assembled in a circle, as the body, lifted out of the skiff, was laid on the bank, pressing down the grass. 'how yellow he is!' said another. 'where have our fellows gone to search? i expect the rest of them are on the other bank. if this one had not been a scout he would not have swum that way. why else should he swim alone?' said a third. 'must have been a smart one to offer himself before the others; a regular brave!' said lukashka mockingly, shivering as he wrung out his clothes that had got wet on the bank. 'his beard is dyed and cropped.' 'and he has tied a bag with a coat in it to his back.' 'that would make it easier for him to swim,' said some one. 'i say, lukashka,' said the corporal, who was holding the dagger and gun taken from the dead man. 'keep the dagger for yourself and the coat too; but i'll give you three rubles for the gun. you see it has a hole in it,' said he, blowing into the muzzle. 'i want it just for a souvenir.' lukashka did not answer. evidently this sort of begging vexed him but he knew it could not be avoided. 'see, what a devil!' said he, frowning and throwing down the chechen's coat. 'if at least it were a good coat, but it's a mere rag.' 'it'll do to fetch firewood in,' said one of the cossacks. 'mosev, i'll go home,' said lukashka, evidently forgetting his vexation and wishing to get some advantage out of having to give a present to his superior. 'all right, you may go!' 'take the body beyond the cordon, lads,' said the corporal, still examining the gun, 'and put a shelter over him from the sun. perhaps they'll send from the mountains to ransom it.' 'it isn't hot yet,' said someone. 'and supposing a jackal tears him? would that be well?' remarked another cossack. 'we'll set a watch; if they should come to ransom him it won't do for him to have been torn.' 'well, lukashka, whatever you do you must stand a pail of vodka for the lads,' said the corporal gaily. 'of course! that's the custom,' chimed in the cossacks. 'see what luck god has sent you! without ever having seen anything of the kind before, you've killed a brave!' 'buy the dagger and coat and don't be stingy, and i'll let you have the trousers too,' said lukashka. 'they're too tight for me; he was a thin devil.' one cossack bought the coat for a ruble and another gave the price of two pails of vodka for the dagger. 'drink, lads! i'll stand you a pail!' said luke. 'i'll bring it myself from the village.' 'and cut up the trousers into kerchiefs for the girls!' said nazarka. the cossacks burst out laughing. 'have done laughing!' said the corporal. 'and take the body away. why have you put the nasty thing by the hut?' 'what are you standing there for? haul him along, lads!' shouted lukashka in a commanding voice to the cossacks, who reluctantly took hold of the body, obeying him as though he were their chief. after dragging the body along for a few steps the cossacks let fall the legs, which dropped with a lifeless jerk, and stepping apart they then stood silent for a few moments. nazarka came up and straightened the head, which was turned to one side so that the round wound above the temple and the whole of the dead man's face were visible. 'see what a mark he has made right in the brain,' he said. 'he won't get lost. his owners will always know him!' no one answered, and again the angel of silence flew over the cossacks. the sun had risen high and its diverging beams were lighting up the dewy grass. near by, the terek murmured in the awakened wood and, greeting the morning, the pheasants called to one another. the cossacks stood still and silent around the dead man, gazing at him. the brown body, with nothing on but the wet blue trousers held by a girdle over the sunken stomach, was well shaped and handsome. the muscular arms lay stretched straight out by his sides; the blue, freshly shaven, round head with the clotted wound on one side of it was thrown back. the smooth tanned forehead contrasted sharply with the shaven part of the head. the open glassy eyes with lowered pupils stared upwards, seeming to gaze past everything. under the red trimmed moustache the fine lips, drawn at the corners, seemed stiffened into a smile of good-natured subtle raillery. the fingers of the small hands covered with red hairs were bent inward, and the nails were dyed red. lukashka had not yet dressed. he was wet. his neck was redder and his eyes brighter than usual, his broad jaws twitched, and from his healthy body a hardly perceptible steam rose in the fresh morning air. 'he too was a man!' he muttered, evidently admiring the corpse. 'yes, if you had fallen into his hands you would have had short shrift,' said one of the cossacks. the angel of silence had taken wing. the cossacks began bustling about and talking. two of them went to cut brushwood for a shelter, others strolled towards the cordon. luke and nazarka ran to get ready to go to the village. half an hour later they were both on their way homewards, talking incessantly and almost running through the dense woods which separated the terek from the village. 'mind, don't tell her i sent you, but just go and find out if her husband is at home,' luke was saying in his shrill voice. 'and i'll go round to yamka too,' said the devoted nazarka. 'we'll have a spree, shall we?' 'when should we have one if not to-day?' replied luke. when they reached the village the two cossacks drank, and lay down to sleep till evening. chapter x on the third day after the events above described, two companies of a caucasian infantry regiment arrived at the cossack village of novomlinsk. the horses had been unharnessed and the companies' wagons were standing in the square. the cooks had dug a pit, and with logs gathered from various yards (where they had not been sufficiently securely stored) were now cooking the food; the pay-sergeants were settling accounts with the soldiers. the service corps men were driving piles in the ground to which to tie the horses, and the quartermasters were going about the streets just as if they were at home, showing officers and men to their quarters. here were green ammunition boxes in a line, the company's carts, horses, and cauldrons in which buckwheat porridge was being cooked. here were the captain and the lieutenant and the sergeant-major, onisim mikhaylovich, and all this was in the cossack village where it was reported that the companies were ordered to take up their quarters: therefore they were at home here. but why they were stationed there, who the cossacks were, and whether they wanted the troops to be there, and whether they were old believers or not--was all quite immaterial. having received their pay and been dismissed, tired out and covered with dust, the soldiers noisily and in disorder, like a swarm of bees about to settle, spread over the squares and streets; quite regardless of the cossacks' ill will, chattering merrily and with their muskets clinking, by twos and threes they entered the huts and hung up their accoutrements, unpacked their bags, and bantered the women. at their favourite spot, round the porridge-cauldrons, a large group of soldiers assembled and with little pipes between their teeth they gazed, now at the smoke which rose into the hot sky, becoming visible when it thickened into white clouds as it rose, and now at the camp fires which were quivering in the pure air like molten glass, and bantered and made fun of the cossack men and women because they do not live at all like russians. in all the yards one could see soldiers and hear their laughter and the exasperated and shrill cries of cossack women defending their houses and refusing to give the soldiers water or cooking utensils. little boys and girls, clinging to their mothers and to each other, followed all the movements of the troopers (never before seen by them) with frightened curiosity, or ran after them at a respectful distance. the old cossacks came out silently and dismally and sat on the earthen embankments of their huts, and watched the soldiers' activity with an air of leaving it all to the will of god without understanding what would come of it. olenin, who had joined the caucasian army as a cadet three months before, was quartered in one of the best houses in the village, the house of the cornet, elias vasilich--that is to say at granny ulitka's. 'goodness knows what it will be like, dmitri andreich,' said the panting vanyusha to olenin, who, dressed in a circassian coat and mounted on a kabarda horse which he had bought in groznoe, was after a five-hours' march gaily entering the yard of the quarters assigned to him. 'why, what's the matter?' he asked, caressing his horse and looking merrily at the perspiring, dishevelled, and worried vanyusha, who had arrived with the baggage wagons and was unpacking. olenin looked quite a different man. in place of his clean-shaven lips and chin he had a youthful moustache and a small beard. instead of a sallow complexion, the result of nights turned into day, his cheeks, his forehead, and the skin behind his ears were now red with healthy sunburn. in place of a clean new black suit he wore a dirty white circassian coat with a deeply pleated skirt, and he bore arms. instead of a freshly starched collar, his neck was tightly clasped by the red band of his silk beshmet. he wore circassian dress but did not wear it well, and anyone would have known him for a russian and not a tartar brave. it was the thing--but not the real thing. but for all that, his whole person breathed health, joy, and satisfaction. 'yes, it seems funny to you,' said vanyusha, 'but just try to talk to these people yourself: they set themselves against one and there's an end of it. you can't get as much as a word out of them.' vanyusha angrily threw down a pail on the threshold. 'somehow they don't seem like russians.' 'you should speak to the chief of the village!' 'but i don't know where he lives,' said vanyusha in an offended tone. 'who has upset you so?' asked olenin, looking round. 'the devil only knows. faugh! there is no real master here. they say he has gone to some kind of kriga, and the old woman is a real devil. god preserve us!' answered vanyusha, putting his hands to his head. 'how we shall live here i don't know. they are worse than tartars, i do declare--though they consider themselves christians! a tartar is bad enough, but all the same he is more noble. gone to the kriga indeed! what this kriga they have invented is, i don't know!' concluded vanyusha, and turned aside. 'it's not as it is in the serfs' quarters at home, eh?' chaffed olenin without dismounting. 'please sir, may i have your horse?' said vanyusha, evidently perplexed by this new order of things but resigning himself to his fate. 'so a tartar is more noble, eh, vanyusha?' repeated olenin, dismounting and slapping the saddle. 'yes, you're laughing! you think it funny,' muttered vanyusha angrily. 'come, don't be angry, vanyusha,' replied olenin, still smiling. 'wait a minute, i'll go and speak to the people of the house; you'll see i shall arrange everything. you don't know what a jolly life we shall have here. only don't get upset.' vanyusha did not answer. screwing up his eyes he looked contemptuously after his master, and shook his head. vanyusha regarded olenin as only his master, and olenin regarded vanyusha as only his servant; and they would both have been much surprised if anyone had told them that they were friends, as they really were without knowing it themselves. vanyusha had been taken into his proprietor's house when he was only eleven and when olenin was the same age. when olenin was fifteen he gave vanyusha lessons for a time and taught him to read french, of which the latter was inordinately proud; and when in specially good spirits he still let off french words, always laughing stupidly when he did so. olenin ran up the steps of the porch and pushed open the door of the hut. maryanka, wearing nothing but a pink smock, as all cossack women do in the house, jumped away from the door, frightened, and pressing herself against the wall covered the lower part of her face with the broad sleeve of her tartar smock. having opened the door wider, olenin in the semi-darkness of the passage saw the whole tall, shapely figure of the young cossack girl. with the quick and eager curiosity of youth he involuntarily noticed the firm maidenly form revealed by the fine print smock, and the beautiful black eyes fixed on him with childlike terror and wild curiosity. 'this is she,' thought olenin. 'but there will be many others like her' came at once into his head, and he opened the inner door. old granny ulitka, also dressed only in a smock, was stooping with her back turned to him, sweeping the floor. 'good-day to you. mother! i've come about my lodgings,' he began. the cossack woman, without unbending, turned her severe but still handsome face towards him. 'what have you come here for? want to mock at us, eh? i'll teach you to mock; may the black plague seize you!' she shouted, looking askance from under her frowning brow at the new-comer. olenin had at first imagined that the way-worn, gallant caucasian army (of which he was a member) would be everywhere received joyfully, and especially by the cossacks, our comrades in the war; and he therefore felt perplexed by this reception. without losing presence of mind however he tried to explain that he meant to pay for his lodgings, but the old woman would not give him a hearing. 'what have you come for? who wants a pest like you, with your scraped face? you just wait a bit; when the master returns he'll show you your place. i don't want your dirty money! a likely thing--just as if we had never seen any! you'll stink the house out with your beastly tobacco and want to put it right with money! think we've never seen a pest! may you be shot in your bowels and your heart!' shrieked the old woman in a piercing voice, interrupting olenin. 'it seems vanyusha was right!' thought olenin. "a tartar would be nobler",' and followed by granny ulitka's abuse he went out of the hut. as he was leaving, maryanka, still wearing only her pink smock, but with her forehead covered down to her eyes by a white kerchief, suddenly slipped out from the passage past him. pattering rapidly down the steps with her bare feet she ran from the porch, stopped, and looking round hastily with laughing eyes at the young man, vanished round the corner of the hut. her firm youthful step, the untamed look of the eyes glistening from under the white kerchief, and the firm stately build of the young beauty, struck olenin even more powerfully than before. 'yes, it must be she,' he thought, and troubling his head still less about the lodgings, he kept looking round at maryanka as he approached vanyusha. 'there you see, the girl too is quite savage, just like a wild filly!' said vanyusha, who though still busy with the luggage wagon had now cheered up a bit. 'la fame!' he added in a loud triumphant voice and burst out laughing. chapter xi towards evening the master of the house returned from his fishing, and having learnt that the cadet would pay for the lodging, pacified the old woman and satisfied vanyusha's demands. everything was arranged in the new quarters. their hosts moved into the winter hut and let their summer hut to the cadet for three rubles a month. olenin had something to eat and went to sleep. towards evening he woke up, washed and made himself tidy, dined, and having lit a cigarette sat down by the window that looked onto the street. it was cooler. the slanting shadow of the hut with its ornamental gables fell across the dusty road and even bent upwards at the base of the wall of the house opposite. the steep reed-thatched roof of that house shone in the rays of the setting sun. the air grew fresher. everything was peaceful in the village. the soldiers had settled down and become quiet. the herds had not yet been driven home and the people had not returned from their work. olenin's lodging was situated almost at the end of the village. at rare intervals, from somewhere far beyond the terek in those parts whence olenin had just come (the chechen or the kumytsk plain), came muffled sounds of firing. olenin was feeling very well contented after three months of bivouac life. his newly washed face was fresh and his powerful body clean (an unaccustomed sensation after the campaign) and in all his rested limbs he was conscious of a feeling of tranquillity and strength. his mind, too, felt fresh and clear. he thought of the campaign and of past dangers. he remembered that he had faced them no worse than other men, and that he was accepted as a comrade among valiant caucasians. his moscow recollections were left behind heaven knows how far! the old life was wiped out and a quite new life had begun in which there were as yet no mistakes. here as a new man among new men he could gain a new and good reputation. he was conscious of a youthful and unreasoning joy of life. looking now out of the window at the boys spinning their tops in the shadow of the house, now round his neat new lodging, he thought how pleasantly he would settle down to this new cossack village life. now and then he glanced at the mountains and the blue sky, and an appreciation of the solemn grandeur of nature mingled with his reminiscences and dreams. his new life had begun, not as he imagined it would when he left moscow, but unexpectedly well. 'the mountains, the mountains, the mountains!' they permeated all his thoughts and feelings. 'he's kissed his dog and licked the jug! ... daddy eroshka has kissed his dog!' suddenly the little cossacks who had been spinning their tops under the window shouted, looking towards the side street. 'he's drunk his bitch, and his dagger!' shouted the boys, crowding together and stepping backwards. these shouts were addressed to daddy eroshka, who with his gun on his shoulder and some pheasants hanging at his girdle was returning from his shooting expedition. 'i have done wrong, lads, i have!' he said, vigorously swinging his arms and looking up at the windows on both sides of the street. 'i have drunk the bitch; it was wrong,' he repeated, evidently vexed but pretending not to care. olenin was surprised by the boys' behavior towards the old hunter, but was still more struck by the expressive, intelligent face and the powerful build of the man whom they called daddy eroshka. 'here daddy, here cossack!' he called. 'come here!' the old man looked into the window and stopped. 'good evening, good man,' he said, lifting his little cap off his cropped head. 'good evening, good man,' replied olenin. 'what is it the youngsters are shouting at you?' daddy eroshka came up to the window. 'why, they're teasing the old man. no matter, i like it. let them joke about their old daddy,' he said with those firm musical intonations with which old and venerable people speak. 'are you an army commander?' he added. 'no, i am a cadet. but where did you kill those pheasants?' asked olenin. 'i dispatched these three hens in the forest,' answered the old man, turning his broad back towards the window to show the hen pheasants which were hanging with their heads tucked into his belt and staining his coat with blood. 'haven't you seen any?' he asked. 'take a brace if you like! here you are,' and he handed two of the pheasants in at the window. 'are you a sportsman yourself?' he asked. 'i am. during the campaign i killed four myself.' 'four? what a lot!' said the old man sarcastically. 'and are you a drinker? do you drink chikhir?' 'why not? i like a drink.' 'ah, i see you are a trump! we shall be kunaks, you and i,' said daddy eroshka. 'step in,' said olenin. 'we'll have a drop of chikhir.' 'i might as well,' said the old man, 'but take the pheasants.' the old man's face showed that he liked the cadet. he had seen at once that he could get free drinks from him, and that therefore it would be all right to give him a brace of pheasants. soon daddy eroshka's figure appeared in the doorway of the hut, and it was only then that olenin became fully conscious of the enormous size and sturdy build of this man, whose red-brown face with its perfectly white broad beard was all furrowed by deep lines produced by age and toil. for an old man, the muscles of his legs, arms, and shoulders were quite exceptionally large and prominent. there were deep scars on his head under the short-cropped hair. his thick sinewy neck was covered with deep intersecting folds like a bull's. his horny hands were bruised and scratched. he stepped lightly and easily over the threshold, unslung his gun and placed it in a corner, and casting a rapid glance round the room noted the value of the goods and chattels deposited in the hut, and with out-turned toes stepped softly, in his sandals of raw hide, into the middle of the room. he brought with him a penetrating but not unpleasant smell of chikhir wine, vodka, gunpowder, and congealed blood. daddy eroshka bowed down before the icons, smoothed his beard, and approaching olenin held out his thick brown hand. 'koshkildy,' said he; that is tartar for "good-day"--"peace be unto you," it means in their tongue.' 'koshkildy, i know,' answered olenin, shaking hands. 'eh, but you don't, you won't know the right order! fool!' said daddy eroshka, shaking his head reproachfully. 'if anyone says "koshkildy" to you, you must say "allah rasi bo sun," that is, "god save you." that's the way, my dear fellow, and not "koshkildy." but i'll teach you all about it. we had a fellow here, elias mosevich, one of your russians, he and i were kunaks. he was a trump, a drunkard, a thief, a sportsman--and what a sportsman! i taught him everything.' 'and what will you teach me?' asked olenin, who was becoming more and more interested in the old man. 'i'll take you hunting and teach you to fish. i'll show you chechens and find a girl for you, if you like--even that! that's the sort i am! i'm a wag!'--and the old man laughed. 'i'll sit down. i'm tired. karga?' he added inquiringly. 'and what does "karga" mean?' asked olenin. 'why, that means "all right" in georgian. but i say it just so. it is a way i have, it's my favourite word. karga, karga. i say it just so; in fun i mean. well, lad, won't you order the chikhir? you've got an orderly, haven't you? hey, ivan!' shouted the old man. 'all your soldiers are ivans. is yours ivan?' 'true enough, his name is ivan--vanyusha. here vanyusha! please get some chikhir from our landlady and bring it here.' 'ivan or vanyusha, that's all one. why are all your soldiers ivans? ivan, old fellow,' said the old man, 'you tell them to give you some from the barrel they have begun. they have the best chikhir in the village. but don't give more than thirty kopeks for the quart, mind, because that witch would be only too glad.... our people are anathema people; stupid people,' daddy eroshka continued in a confidential tone after vanyusha had gone out. 'they do not look upon you as on men, you are worse than a tartar in their eyes. "worldly russians" they say. but as for me, though you are a soldier you are still a man, and have a soul in you. isn't that right? elias mosevich was a soldier, yet what a treasure of a man he was! isn't that so, my dear fellow? that's why our people don't like me; but i don't care! i'm a merry fellow, and i like everybody. i'm eroshka; yes, my dear fellow.' and the old cossack patted the young man affectionately on the shoulder. chapter xii vanyusha, who meanwhile had finished his housekeeping arrangements and had even been shaved by the company's barber and had pulled his trousers out of his high boots as a sign that the company was stationed in comfortable quarters, was in excellent spirits. he looked attentively but not benevolently at eroshka, as at a wild beast he had never seen before, shook his head at the floor which the old man had dirtied and, having taken two bottles from under a bench, went to the landlady. 'good evening, kind people,' he said, having made up his mind to be very gentle. 'my master has sent me to get some chikhir. will you draw some for me, good folk?' the old woman gave no answer. the girl, who was arranging the kerchief on her head before a little tartar mirror, looked round at vanyusha in silence. 'i'll pay money for it, honoured people,' said vanyusha, jingling the coppers in his pocket. 'be kind to us and we, too will be kind to you,' he added. 'how much?' asked the old woman abruptly. 'a quart.' 'go, my own, draw some for them,' said granny ulitka to her daughter. 'take it from the cask that's begun, my precious.' the girl took the keys and a decanter and went out of the hut with vanyusha. 'tell me, who is that young woman?' asked olenin, pointing to maryanka, who was passing the window. the old man winked and nudged the young man with his elbow. 'wait a bit,' said he and reached out of the window. 'khm,' he coughed, and bellowed, 'maryanka dear. hallo, maryanka, my girlie, won't you love me, darling? i'm a wag,' he added in a whisper to olenin. the girl, not turning her head and swinging her arms regularly and vigorously, passed the window with the peculiarly smart and bold gait of a cossack woman and only turned her dark shaded eyes slowly towards the old man. 'love me and you'll be happy,' shouted eroshka, winking, and he looked questioningly at the cadet. 'i'm a fine fellow, i'm a wag!' he added. 'she's a regular queen, that girl. eh?' 'she is lovely,' said olenin. 'call her here!' 'no, no,' said the old man. 'for that one a match is being arranged with lukashka, luke, a fine cossack, a brave, who killed an abrek the other day. i'll find you a better one. i'll find you one that will be all dressed up in silk and silver. once i've said it i'll do it. i'll get you a regular beauty!' 'you, an old man--and say such things,' replied olenin. 'why, it's a sin!' 'a sin? where's the sin?' said the old man emphatically. 'a sin to look at a nice girl? a sin to have some fun with her? or is it a sin to love her? is that so in your parts? ... no, my dear fellow, it's not a sin, it's salvation! god made you and god made the girl too. he made it all; so it is no sin to look at a nice girl. that's what she was made for; to be loved and to give joy. that's how i judge it, my good fellow.' having crossed the yard and entered a cool dark storeroom filled with barrels, maryanka went up to one of them and repeating the usual prayer plunged a dipper into it. vanyusha standing in the doorway smiled as he looked at her. he thought it very funny that she had only a smock on, close-fitting behind and tucked up in front, and still funnier that she wore a necklace of silver coins. he thought this quite un-russian and that they would all laugh in the serfs' quarters at home if they saw a girl like that. 'la fille comme c'est tres bien, for a change,' he thought. 'i'll tell that to my master.' 'what are you standing in the light for, you devil!' the girl suddenly shouted. 'why don't you pass me the decanter!' having filled the decanter with cool red wine, maryanka handed it to vanyusha. 'give the money to mother,' she said, pushing away the hand in which he held the money. vanyusha laughed. 'why are you so cross, little dear?' he said good-naturedly, irresolutely shuffling with his feet while the girl was covering the barrel. she began to laugh. 'and you! are you kind?' 'we, my master and i, are very kind,' vanyusha answered decidedly. 'we are so kind that wherever we have stayed our hosts were always very grateful. it's because he's generous.' the girl stood listening. 'and is your master married?' she asked. 'no. the master is young and unmarried, because noble gentlemen can never marry young,' said vanyusha didactically. 'a likely thing! see what a fed-up buffalo he is--and too young to marry! is he the chief of you all?' she asked. 'my master is a cadet; that means he's not yet an officer, but he's more important than a general--he's an important man! because not only our colonel, but the tsar himself, knows him,' proudly explained vanyusha. 'we are not like those other beggars in the line regiment, and our papa himself was a senator. he had more than a thousand serfs, all his own, and they send us a thousand rubles at a time. that's why everyone likes us. another may be a captain but have no money. what's the use of that?' 'go away. i'll lock up,' said the girl, interrupting him. vanyusha brought olenin the wine and announced that 'la fille c'est tres joulie,' and, laughing stupidly, at once went out. chapter xiii meanwhile the tattoo had sounded in the village square. the people had returned from their work. the herd lowed as in clouds of golden dust it crowded at the village gate. the girls and the women hurried through the streets and yards, turning in their cattle. the sun had quite hidden itself behind the distant snowy peaks. one pale bluish shadow spread over land and sky. above the darkened gardens stars just discernible were kindling, and the sounds were gradually hushed in the village. the cattle having been attended to and left for the night, the women came out and gathered at the corners of the streets and, cracking sunflower seeds with their teeth, settled down on the earthen embankments of the houses. later on maryanka, having finished milking the buffalo and the other two cows, also joined one of these groups. the group consisted of several women and girls and one old cossack man. they were talking about the abrek who had been killed. the cossack was narrating and the women questioning him. 'i expect he'll get a handsome reward,' said one of the women. 'of course. it's said that they'll send him a cross.' 'mosev did try to wrong him. took the gun away from him, but the authorities at kizlyar heard of it.' 'a mean creature that mosev is!' 'they say lukashka has come home,' remarked one of the girls. 'he and nazarka are merry-making at yamka's.' (yamka was an unmarried, disreputable cossack woman who kept an illicit pot-house.) 'i heard say they had drunk half a pailful.' 'what luck that snatcher has,' somebody remarked. 'a real snatcher. but there's no denying he's a fine lad, smart enough for anything, a right-minded lad! his father was just such another. daddy kiryak was: he takes after his father. when he was killed the whole village howled. look, there they are,' added the speaker, pointing to the cossacks who were coming down the street towards them. 'and ergushov has managed to come along with them too! the drunkard!' lukashka, nazarka, and ergushov, having emptied half a pail of vodka, were coming towards the girls. the faces of all three, but especially that of the old cossack, were redder than usual. ergushov was reeling and kept laughing and nudging nazarka in the ribs. 'why are you not singing?' he shouted to the girls. 'sing to our merry-making, i tell you!' they were welcomed with the words, 'had a good day? had a good day?' 'why sing? it's not a holiday,' said one of the women. 'you're tight, so you go and sing.' ergushov roared with laughter and nudged nazarka. 'you'd better sing. and i'll begin too. i'm clever, i tell you.' 'are you asleep, fair ones?' said nazarka. 'we've come from the cordon to drink your health. we've already drunk lukashka's health.' lukashka, when he reached the group, slowly raised his cap and stopped in front of the girls. his broad cheekbones and neck were red. he stood and spoke softly and sedately, but in his tranquillity and sedateness there was more of animation and strength than in all nazarka's loquacity and bustle. he reminded one of a playful colt that with a snort and a flourish of its tail suddenly stops short and stands as though nailed to the ground with all four feet. lukashka stood quietly in front of the girls, his eyes laughed, and he spoke but little as he glanced now at his drunken companions and now at the girls. when maryanka joined the group he raised his cap with a firm deliberate movement, moved out of her way and then stepped in front of her with one foot a little forward and with his thumbs in his belt, fingering his dagger. maryanka answered his greeting with a leisurely bow of her head, settled down on the earth-bank, and took some seeds out of the bosom of her smock. lukashka, keeping his eyes fixed on maryanka, slowly cracked seeds and spat out the shells. all were quiet when maryanka joined the group. 'have you come for long?' asked a woman, breaking the silence. 'till to-morrow morning,' quietly replied lukashka. 'well, god grant you get something good,' said the cossack; 'i'm glad of it, as i've just been saying.' 'and i say so too,' put in the tipsy ergushov, laughing. 'what a lot of visitors have come,' he added, pointing to a soldier who was passing by. 'the soldiers' vodka is good--i like it.' 'they've sent three of the devils to us,' said one of the women. 'grandad went to the village elders, but they say nothing can be done.' 'ah, ha! have you met with trouble?' said ergushov. 'i expect they have smoked you out with their tobacco?' asked another woman. 'smoke as much as you like in the yard, i say, but we won't allow it inside the hut. not if the elder himself comes, i won't allow it. besides, they may rob you. he's not quartered any of them on himself, no fear, that devil's son of an elder.' 'you don't like it?' ergushov began again. 'and i've also heard say that the girls will have to make the soldiers' beds and offer them chikhir and honey,' said nazarka, putting one foot forward and tilting his cap like lukashka. ergushov burst into a roar of laughter, and seizing the girl nearest to him, he embraced her. 'i tell you true.' 'now then, you black pitch!' squealed the girl, 'i'll tell your old woman.' 'tell her,' shouted he. 'that's quite right what nazarka says; a circular has been sent round. he can read, you know. quite true!' and he began embracing the next girl. 'what are you up to, you beast?' squealed the rosy, round-faced ustenka, laughing and lifting her arm to hit him. the cossack stepped aside and nearly fell. 'there, they say girls have no strength, and you nearly killed me.' 'get away, you black pitch, what devil has brought you from the cordon?' said ustenka, and turning away from him she again burst out laughing. 'you were asleep and missed the abrek, didn't you? suppose he had done for you it would have been all the better.' 'you'd have howled, i expect,' said nazarka, laughing. 'howled! a likely thing.' 'just look, she doesn't care. she'd howl, nazarka, eh? would she?' said ergushov. lukishka all this time had stood silently looking at maryanka. his gaze evidently confused the girl. 'well, maryanka! i hear they've quartered one of the chiefs on you?' he said, drawing nearer. maryanka, as was her wont, waited before she replied, and slowly raising her eyes looked at the cossack. lukashka's eyes were laughing as if something special, apart from what was said, was taking place between himself and the girl. 'yes, it's all right for them as they have two huts,' replied an old woman on maryanka's behalf, 'but at fomushkin's now they also have one of the chiefs quartered on them and they say one whole corner is packed full with his things, and the family have no room left. was such a thing ever heard of as that they should turn a whole horde loose in the village?' she said. 'and what the plague are they going to do here?' 'i've heard say they'll build a bridge across the terek,' said one of the girls. 'and i've been told that they will dig a pit to put the girls in because they don't love the lads,' said nazarka, approaching ustenka; and he again made a whimsical gesture which set everybody laughing, and ergushov, passing by maryanka, who was next in turn, began to embrace an old woman. 'why don't you hug maryanka? you should do it to each in turn,' said nazarka. 'no, my old one is sweeter,' shouted the cossack, kissing the struggling old woman. 'you'll throttle me,' she screamed, laughing. the tramp of regular footsteps at the other end of the street interrupted their laughter. three soldiers in their cloaks, with their muskets on their shoulders, were marching in step to relieve guard by the ammunition wagon. the corporal, an old cavalry man, looked angrily at the cossacks and led his men straight along the road where lukashka and nazarka were standing, so that they should have to get out of the way. nazarka moved, but lukashka only screwed up his eyes and turned his broad back without moving from his place. 'people are standing here, so you go round,' he muttered, half turning his head and tossing it contemptuously in the direction of the soldiers. the soldiers passed by in silence, keeping step regularly along the dusty road. maryanka began laughing and all the other girls chimed in. 'what swells!' said nazarka, 'just like long-skirted choristers,' and he walked a few steps down the road imitating the soldiers. again everyone broke into peals of laughter. lukashka came slowly up to maryanka. 'and where have you put up the chief?' he asked. maryanka thought for a moment. 'we've let him have the new hut,' she said. 'and is he old or young,' asked lukashka, sitting down beside her. 'do you think i've asked?' answered the girl. 'i went to get him some chikhir and saw him sitting at the window with daddy eroshka. red-headed he seemed. they've brought a whole cartload of things.' and she dropped her eyes. 'oh, how glad i am that i got leave from the cordon!' said lukashka, moving closer to the girl and looking straight in her eyes all the time. 'and have you come for long?' asked maryanka, smiling slightly. 'till the morning. give me some sunflower seeds,' he said, holding out his hand. maryanka now smiled outright and unfastened the neckband of her smock. 'don't take them all,' she said. 'really i felt so dull all the time without you, i swear i did,' he said in a calm, restrained whisper, helping himself to some seeds out of the bosom of the girl's smock, and stooping still closer over her he continued with laughing eyes to talk to her in low tones. 'i won't come, i tell you,' maryanka suddenly said aloud, leaning away from him. 'no really ... what i wanted to say to you, ...' whispered lukashka. 'by the heavens! do come!' maryanka shook her head, but did so with a smile. 'nursey maryanka! hallo nursey! mammy is calling! supper time!' shouted maryanka's little brother, running towards the group. 'i'm coming,' replied the girl. 'go, my dear, go alone--i'll come in a minute.' lukashka rose and raised his cap. 'i expect i had better go home too, that will be best,' he said, trying to appear unconcerned but hardly able to repress a smile, and he disappeared behind the corner of the house. meanwhile night had entirely enveloped the village. bright stars were scattered over the dark sky. the streets became dark and empty. nazarka remained with the women on the earth-bank and their laughter was still heard, but lukashka, having slowly moved away from the girls, crouched down like a cat and then suddenly started running lightly, holding his dagger to steady it: not homeward, however, but towards the cornet's house. having passed two streets he turned into a lane and lifting the skirt of his coat sat down on the ground in the shadow of a fence. 'a regular cornet's daughter!' he thought about maryanka. 'won't even have a lark--the devil! but just wait a bit.' the approaching footsteps of a woman attracted his attention. he began listening, and laughed all by himself. maryanka with bowed head, striking the pales of the fences with a switch, was walking with rapid regular strides straight towards him. lukashka rose. maryanka started and stopped. 'what an accursed devil! you frightened me! so you have not gone home?' she said, and laughed aloud. lukashka put one arm round her and with the other hand raised her face. 'what i wanted to tell you, by heaven!' his voice trembled and broke. 'what are you talking of, at night time!' answered maryanka. 'mother is waiting for me, and you'd better go to your sweetheart.' and freeing herself from his arms she ran away a few steps. when she had reached the wattle fence of her home she stopped and turned to the cossack who was running beside her and still trying to persuade her to stay a while with him. 'well, what do you want to say, midnight-gadabout?' and she again began laughing. 'don't laugh at me, maryanka! by the heaven! well, what if i have a sweetheart? may the devil take her! only say the word and now i'll love you--i'll do anything you wish. here they are!' and he jingled the money in his pocket. 'now we can live splendidly. others have pleasures, and i? i get no pleasure from you, maryanka dear!' the girl did not answer. she stood before him breaking her switch into little bits with a rapid movement of her fingers. lukashka suddenly clenched his teeth and fists. 'and why keep waiting and waiting? don't i love you, darling? you can do what you like with me,' said he suddenly, frowning angrily and seizing both her hands. the calm expression of maryanka's face and voice did not change. 'don't bluster, lukashka, but listen to me,' she answered, not pulling away her hands but holding the cossack at arm's length. 'it's true i am a girl, but you listen to me! it does not depend on me, but if you love me i'll tell you this. let go my hands, i'll tell you without.--i'll marry you, but you'll never get any nonsense from me,' said maryanka without turning her face. 'what, you'll marry me? marriage does not depend on us. love me yourself, maryanka dear,' said lukashka, from sullen and furious becoming again gentle, submissive, and tender, and smiling as he looked closely into her eyes. maryanka clung to him and kissed him firmly on the lips. 'brother dear!' she whispered, pressing him convulsively to her. then, suddenly tearing herself away, she ran into the gate of her house without looking round. in spite of the cossack's entreaties to wait another minute to hear what he had to say, maryanka did not stop. 'go,' she cried, 'you'll be seen! i do believe that devil, our lodger, is walking about the yard.' 'cornet's daughter,' thought lukashka. 'she will marry me. marriage is all very well, but you just love me!' he found nazarka at yamka's house, and after having a spree with him went to dunayka's house, where, in spite of her not being faithful to him, he spent the night. chapter xiv it was quite true that olenin had been walking about the yard when maryanka entered the gate, and had heard her say, 'that devil, our lodger, is walking about.' he had spent that evening with daddy eroshka in the porch of his new lodging. he had had a table, a samovar, wine, and a candle brought out, and over a cup of tea and a cigar he listened to the tales the old man told seated on the threshold at his feet. though the air was still, the candle dripped and flickered: now lighting up the post of the porch, now the table and crockery, now the cropped white head of the old man. moths circled round the flame and, shedding the dust of their wings, fluttered on the table and in the glasses, flew into the candle flame, and disappeared in the black space beyond. olenin and eroshka had emptied five bottles of chikhir. eroshka filled the glasses every time, offering one to olenin, drinking his health, and talking untiringly. he told of cossack life in the old days: of his father, 'the broad', who alone had carried on his back a boar's carcass weighing three hundredweight, and drank two pails of chikhir at one sitting. he told of his own days and his chum girchik, with whom during the plague he used to smuggle felt cloaks across the terek. he told how one morning he had killed two deer, and about his 'little soul' who used to run to him at the cordon at night. he told all this so eloquently and picturesquely that olenin did not notice how time passed. 'ah yes, my dear fellow, you did not know me in my golden days; then i'd have shown you things. today it's "eroshka licks the jug", but then eroshka was famous in the whole regiment. whose was the finest horse? who had a gurda sword? to whom should one go to get a drink? with whom go on the spree? who should be sent to the mountains to kill ahmet khan? why, always eroshka! whom did the girls love? always eroshka had to answer for it. because i was a real brave: a drinker, a thief (i used to seize herds of horses in the mountains), a singer; i was a master of every art! there are no cossacks like that nowadays. it's disgusting to look at them. when they're that high [eroshka held his hand three feet from the ground] they put on idiotic boots and keep looking at them--that's all the pleasure they know. or they'll drink themselves foolish, not like men but all wrong. and who was i? i was eroshka, the thief; they knew me not only in this village but up in the mountains. tartar princes, my kunaks, used to come to see me! i used to be everybody's kunak. if he was a tartar--with a tartar; an armenian--with an armenian; a soldier--with a soldier; an officer--with an officer! i didn't care as long as he was a drinker. he says you should cleanse yourself from intercourse with the world, not drink with soldiers, not eat with a tartar.' 'who says all that?' asked olenin. 'why, our teacher! but listen to a mullah or a tartar cadi. he says, "you unbelieving giaours, why do you eat pig?" that shows that everyone has his own law. but i think it's all one. god has made everything for the joy of man. there is no sin in any of it. take example from an animal. it lives in the tartar's reeds or in ours. wherever it happens to go, there is its home! whatever god gives it, that it eats! but our people say we have to lick red-hot plates in hell for that. and i think it's all a fraud,' he added after a pause. 'what is a fraud?' asked olenin. 'why, what the preachers say. we had an army captain in chervlena who was my kunak: a fine fellow just like me. he was killed in chechnya. well, he used to say that the preachers invent all that out of their own heads. "when you die the grass will grow on your grave and that's all!"' the old man laughed. 'he was a desperate fellow.' 'and how old are you?' asked olenin. 'the lord only knows! i must be about seventy. when a tsaritsa reigned in russia i was no longer very small. so you can reckon it out. i must be seventy.' 'yes you must, but you are still a fine fellow.' 'well, thank heaven i am healthy, quite healthy, except that a woman, a witch, has harmed me....' 'how?' 'oh, just harmed me.' 'and so when you die the grass will grow?' repeated olenin. eroshka evidently did not wish to express his thought clearly. he was silent for a while. 'and what did you think? drink!' he shouted suddenly, smiling and handing olenin some wine. chapter xv 'well, what was i saying?' he continued, trying to remember. 'yes, that's the sort of man i am. i am a hunter. there is no hunter to equal me in the whole army. i will find and show you any animal and any bird, and what and where. i know it all! i have dogs, and two guns, and nets, and a screen and a hawk. i have everything, thank the lord! if you are not bragging but are a real sportsman, i'll show you everything. do you know what a man i am? when i have found a track--i know the animal. i know where he will lie down and where he'll drink or wallow. i make myself a perch and sit there all night watching. what's the good of staying at home? one only gets into mischief, gets drunk. and here women come and chatter, and boys shout at me--enough to drive one mad. it's a different matter when you go out at nightfall, choose yourself a place, press down the reeds and sit there and stay waiting, like a jolly fellow. one knows everything that goes on in the woods. one looks up at the sky: the stars move, you look at them and find out from them how the time goes. one looks round--the wood is rustling; one goes on waiting, now there comes a crackling--a boar comes to rub himself; one listens to hear the young eaglets screech and then the cocks give voice in the village, or the geese. when you hear the geese you know it is not yet midnight. and i know all about it! or when a gun is fired somewhere far away, thoughts come to me. one thinks, who is that firing? is it another cossack like myself who has been watching for some animal? and has he killed it? or only wounded it so that now the poor thing goes through the reeds smearing them with its blood all for nothing? i don't like that! oh, how i dislike it! why injure a beast? you fool, you fool! or one thinks, "maybe an abrek has killed some silly little cossack." all this passes through one's mind. and once as i sat watching by the river i saw a cradle floating down. it was sound except for one corner which was broken off. thoughts did come that time! i thought some of your soldiers, the devils, must have got into a tartar village and seized the chechen women, and one of the devils has killed the little one: taken it by its legs, and hit its head against a wall. don't they do such things? ah! men have no souls! and thoughts came to me that filled me with pity. i thought: they've thrown away the cradle and driven the wife out, and her brave has taken his gun and come across to our side to rob us. one watches and thinks. and when one hears a litter breaking through the thicket, something begins to knock inside one. dear one, come this way! "they'll scent me," one thinks; and one sits and does not stir while one's heart goes dun! dun! dun! and simply lifts you. once this spring a fine litter came near me, i saw something black. "in the name of the father and of the son," and i was just about to fire when she grunts to her pigs: "danger, children," she says, "there's a man here," and off they all ran, breaking through the bushes. and she had been so close i could almost have bitten her.' 'how could a sow tell her brood that a man was there?' asked olenin. 'what do you think? you think the beast's a fool? no, he is wiser than a man though you do call him a pig! he knows everything. take this for instance. a man will pass along your track and not notice it; but a pig as soon as it gets onto your track turns and runs at once: that shows there is wisdom in him, since he scents your smell and you don't. and there is this to be said too: you wish to kill it and it wishes to go about the woods alive. you have one law and it has another. it is a pig, but it is no worse than you--it too is god's creature. ah, dear! man is foolish, foolish, foolish!' the old man repeated this several times and then, letting his head drop, he sat thinking. olenin also became thoughtful, and descending from the porch with his hands behind his back began pacing up and down the yard. eroshka, rousing himself, raised his head and began gazing intently at the moths circling round the flickering flame of the candle and burning themselves in it. 'fool, fool!' he said. 'where are you flying to? fool, fool!' he rose and with his thick fingers began to drive away the moths. 'you'll burn, little fool! fly this way, there's plenty of room.' he spoke tenderly, trying to catch them delicately by their wings with his thick fingers and then letting them fly again. 'you are killing yourself and i am sorry for you!' he sat a long time chattering and sipping out of the bottle. olenin paced up and down the yard. suddenly he was struck by the sound of whispering outside the gate. involuntarily holding his breath, he heard a woman's laughter, a man's voice, and the sound of a kiss. intentionally rustling the grass under his feet he crossed to the opposite side of the yard, but after a while the wattle fence creaked. a cossack in a dark circassian coat and a white sheepskin cap passed along the other side of the fence (it was luke), and a tall woman with a white kerchief on her head went past olenin. 'you and i have nothing to do with one another' was what maryanka's firm step gave him to understand. he followed her with his eyes to the porch of the hut, and he even saw her through the window take off her kerchief and sit down. and suddenly a feeling of lonely depression and some vague longings and hopes, and envy of someone or other, overcame the young man's soul. the last lights had been put out in the huts. the last sounds had died away in the village. the wattle fences and the cattle gleaming white in the yards, the roofs of the houses and the stately poplars, all seemed to be sleeping the labourers' healthy peaceful sleep. only the incessant ringing voices of frogs from the damp distance reached the young man. in the east the stars were growing fewer and fewer and seemed to be melting in the increasing light, but overhead they were denser and deeper than before. the old man was dozing with his head on his hand. a cock crowed in the yard opposite, but olenin still paced up and down thinking of something. the sound of a song sung by several voices reached him and he stepped up to the fence and listened. the voices of several young cossacks carolled a merry song, and one voice was distinguishable among them all by its firm strength. 'do you know who is singing there?' said the old man, rousing himself. 'it is the brave, lukashka. he has killed a chechen and now he rejoices. and what is there to rejoice at? ... the fool, the fool!' 'and have you ever killed people?' asked olenin. 'you devil!' shouted the old man. 'what are you asking? one must not talk so. it is a serious thing to destroy a human being ... ah, a very serious thing! good-bye, my dear fellow. i've eaten my fill and am drunk,' he said rising. 'shall i come to-morrow to go shooting?' 'yes, come!' 'mind, get up early; if you oversleep you will be fined!' 'never fear, i'll be up before you,' answered olenin. the old man left. the song ceased, but one could hear footsteps and merry talk. a little later the singing broke out again but farther away, and eroshka's loud voice chimed in with the other. 'what people, what a life!' thought olenin with a sigh as he returned alone to his hut. chapter xvi daddy eroshka was a superannuated and solitary cossack: twenty years ago his wife had gone over to the orthodox church and run away from him and married a russian sergeant-major, and he had no children. he was not bragging when he spoke of himself as having been the boldest dare-devil in the village when he was young. everybody in the regiment knew of his old-time prowess. the death of more than one russian, as well as chechen, lay on his conscience. he used to go plundering in the mountains, and robbed the russians too; and he had twice been in prison. the greater part of his life was spent in the forests, hunting. there he lived for days on a crust of bread and drank nothing but water. but on the other hand, when he was in the village he made merry from morning to night. after leaving olenin he slept for a couple of hours and awoke before it was light. he lay on his bed thinking of the man he had become acquainted with the evening before. olenin's 'simplicity' (simplicity in the sense of not grudging him a drink) pleased him very much, and so did olenin himself. he wondered why the russians were all 'simple' and so rich, and why they were educated, and yet knew nothing. he pondered on these questions and also considered what he might get out of olenin. daddy eroshka's hut was of a good size and not old, but the absence of a woman was very noticeable in it. contrary to the usual cleanliness of the cossacks, the whole of this hut was filthy and exceedingly untidy. a blood-stained coat had been thrown on the table, half a dough-cake lay beside a plucked and mangled crow with which to feed the hawk. sandals of raw hide, a gun, a dagger, a little bag, wet clothes, and sundry rags lay scattered on the benches. in a corner stood a tub with stinking water, in which another pair of sandals were being steeped, and near by was a gun and a hunting-screen. on the floor a net had been thrown down and several dead pheasants lay there, while a hen tied by its leg was walking about near the table pecking among the dirt. in the unheated oven stood a broken pot with some kind of milky liquid. on the top of the oven a falcon was screeching and trying to break the cord by which it was tied, and a moulting hawk sat quietly on the edge of the oven, looking askance at the hen and occasionally bowing its head to right and left. daddy eroshka himself, in his shirt, lay on his back on a short bed rigged up between the wall and the oven, with his strong legs raised and his feet on the oven. he was picking with his thick fingers at the scratches left on his hands by the hawk, which he was accustomed to carry without wearing gloves. the whole room, especially near the old man, was filled with that strong but not unpleasant mixture of smells that he always carried about with him. 'uyde-ma, daddy?' (is daddy in?) came through the window in a sharp voice, which he at once recognized as lukashka's. 'uyde, uyde, uyde. i am in!' shouted the old man. 'come in, neighbour mark, luke mark. come to see daddy? on your way to the cordon?' at the sound of his master's shout the hawk flapped his wings and pulled at his cord. the old man was fond of lukashka, who was the only man he excepted from his general contempt for the younger generation of cossacks. besides that, lukashka and his mother, as near neighbours, often gave the old man wine, clotted cream, and other home produce which eroshka did not possess. daddy eroshka, who all his life had allowed himself to get carried away, always explained his infatuations from a practical point of view. 'well, why not?' he used to say to himself. 'i'll give them some fresh meat, or a bird, and they won't forget daddy: they'll sometimes bring a cake or a piece of pie.' 'good morning. mark! i am glad to see you,' shouted the old man cheerfully, and quickly putting down his bare feet he jumped off his bed and walked a step or two along the creaking floor, looked down at his out-turned toes, and suddenly, amused by the appearance of his feet, smiled, stamped with his bare heel on the ground, stamped again, and then performed a funny dance-step. 'that's clever, eh?' he asked, his small eyes glistening. lukashka smiled faintly. 'going back to the cordon?' asked the old man. 'i have brought the chikhir i promised you when we were at the cordon.' 'may christ save you!' said the old man, and he took up the extremely wide trousers that were lying on the floor, and his beshmet, put them on, fastened a strap round his waist, poured some water from an earthenware pot over his hands, wiped them on the old trousers, smoothed his beard with a bit of comb, and stopped in front of lukashka. 'ready,' he said. lukashka fetched a cup, wiped it and filled it with wine, and then handed it to the old man. 'your health! to the father and the son!' said the old man, accepting the wine with solemnity. 'may you have what you desire, may you always be a hero, and obtain a cross.' lukashka also drank a little after repeating a prayer, and then put the wine on the table. the old man rose and brought out some dried fish which he laid on the threshold, where he beat it with a stick to make it tender; then, having put it with his horny hands on a blue plate (his only one), he placed it on the table. 'i have all i want. i have victuals, thank god!' he said proudly. 'well, and what of mosev?' he added. lukashka, evidently wishing to know the old man's opinion, told him how the officer had taken the gun from him. 'never mind the gun,' said the old man. 'if you don't give the gun you will get no reward.' 'but they say. daddy, it's little reward a fellow gets when he is not yet a mounted cossack; and the gun is a fine one, a crimean, worth eighty rubles.' 'eh, let it go! i had a dispute like that with an officer, he wanted my horse. "give it me and you'll be made a cornet," says he. i wouldn't, and i got nothing!' 'yes, daddy, but you see i have to buy a horse; and they say you can't get one the other side of the river under fifty rubles, and mother has not yet sold our wine.' 'eh, we didn't bother,' said the old man; 'when daddy eroshka was your age he already stole herds of horses from the nogay folk and drove them across the terek. sometimes we'd give a fine horse for a quart of vodka or a cloak.' 'why so cheap?' asked lukashka. 'you're a fool, a fool, mark,' said the old man contemptuously. 'why, that's what one steals for, so as not to be stingy! as for you, i suppose you haven't so much as seen how one drives off a herd of horses? why don't you speak?' 'what's one to say. daddy?' replied lukashka. 'it seems we are not the same sort of men as you were.' 'you're a fool. mark, a fool! "not the same sort of men!"' retorted the old man, mimicking the cossack lad. 'i was not that sort of cossack at your age.' 'how's that?' asked lukashka. the old man shook his head contemptuously. 'daddy eroshka was simple; he did not grudge anything! that's why i was kunak with all chechnya. a kunak would come to visit me and i'd make him drunk with vodka and make him happy and put him to sleep with me, and when i went to see him i'd take him a present--a dagger! that's the way it is done, and not as you do nowadays: the only amusement lads have now is to crack seeds and spit out the shells!' the old man finished contemptuously, imitating the present-day cossacks cracking seeds and spitting out the shells. 'yes, i know,' said lukashka; 'that's so!' 'if you wish to be a fellow of the right sort, be a brave and not a peasant! because even a peasant can buy a horse--pay the money and take the horse.' they were silent for a while. 'well, of course it's dull both in the village and the cordon, daddy: but there's nowhere one can go for a bit of sport. all our fellows are so timid. take nazarka. the other day when we went to the tartar village, girey khan asked us to come to nogay to take some horses, but no one went, and how was i to go alone?' 'and what of daddy? do you think i am quite dried up? ... no, i'm not dried up. let me have a horse and i'll be off to nogay at once.' 'what's the good of talking nonsense!' said luke. 'you'd better tell me what to do about girey khan. he says, "only bring horses to the terek, and then even if you bring a whole stud i'll find a place for them." you see he's also a shaven-headed tartar--how's one to believe him?' 'you may trust girey khan, all his kin were good people. his father too was a faithful kunak. but listen to daddy and i won't teach you wrong: make him take an oath, then it will be all right. and if you go with him, have your pistol ready all the same, especially when it comes to dividing up the horses. i was nearly killed that way once by a chechen. i wanted ten rubles from him for a horse. trusting is all right, but don't go to sleep without a gun.' lukashka listened attentively to the old man. 'i say. daddy, have you any stone-break grass?' he asked after a pause. 'no, i haven't any, but i'll teach you how to get it. you're a good lad and won't forget the old man.... shall i tell you?' 'tell me, daddy.' 'you know a tortoise? she's a devil, the tortoise is!' 'of course i know!' 'find her nest and fence it round so that she can't get in. well, she'll come, go round it, and then will go off to find the stone-break grass and will bring some along and destroy the fence. anyhow next morning come in good time, and where the fence is broken there you'll find the stone-break grass lying. take it wherever you like. no lock and no bar will be able to stop you.' 'have you tried it yourself. daddy?' 'as for trying, i have not tried it, but i was told of it by good people. i used only one charm: that was to repeat the pilgrim rhyme when mounting my horse; and no one ever killed me!' 'what is the pilgrim rhyme. daddy?' 'what, don't you know it? oh, what people! you're right to ask daddy. well, listen, and repeat after me: 'hail! ye, living in sion, this is your king, our steeds we shall sit on, sophonius is weeping. zacharias is speaking, father pilgrim, mankind ever loving.' 'kind ever loving,' the old man repeated. 'do you know it now? try it.' lukashka laughed. 'come, daddy, was it that that hindered their killing you? maybe it just happened so!' 'you've grown too clever! you learn it all, and say it. it will do you no harm. well, suppose you have sung "pilgrim", it's all right,' and the old man himself began laughing. 'but just one thing, luke, don't you go to nogay!' 'why?' 'times have changed. you are not the same men. you've become rubbishy cossacks! and see how many russians have come down on us! you'd get to prison. really, give it up! just as if you could! now girchik and i, we used...' and the old man was about to begin one of his endless tales, but lukashka glanced at the window and interrupted him. 'it is quite light. daddy. it's time to be off. look us up some day.' 'may christ save you! i'll go to the officer; i promised to take him out shooting. he seems a good fellow.' chapter xvii from eroshka's hut lukashka went home. as he returned, the dewy mists were rising from the ground and enveloped the village. in various places the cattle, though out of sight, could be heard beginning to stir. the cocks called to one another with increasing frequency and insistence. the air was becoming more transparent, and the villagers were getting up. not till he was close to it could lukishka discern the fence of his yard, all wet with dew, the porch of the hut, and the open shed. from the misty yard he heard the sound of an axe chopping wood. lukashka entered the hut. his mother was up, and stood at the oven throwing wood into it. his little sister was still lying in bed asleep. 'well, lukashka, had enough holiday-making?' asked his mother softly. 'where did you spend the night?' 'i was in the village,' replied her son reluctantly, reaching for his musket, which he drew from its cover and examined carefully. his mother swayed her head. lukashka poured a little gunpowder onto the pan, took out a little bag from which he drew some empty cartridge cases which he began filling, carefully plugging each one with a ball wrapped in a rag. then, having tested the loaded cartridges with his teeth and examined them, he put down the bag. 'i say, mother, i told you the bags wanted mending; have they been done?' he asked. 'oh yes, our dumb girl was mending something last night. why, is it time for you to be going back to the cordon? i haven't seen anything of you!' 'yes, as soon as i have got ready i shall have to go,' answered lukashka, tying up the gunpowder. 'and where is our dumb one? outside?' 'chopping wood, i expect. she kept fretting for you. "i shall not see him at all!" she said. she puts her hand to her face like this, and clicks her tongue and presses her hands to her heart as much as to say--"sorry." shall i call her in? she understood all about the abrek.' 'call her,' said lukashka. 'and i had some tallow there; bring it: i must grease my sword.' the old woman went out, and a few minutes later lukashka's dumb sister came up the creaking steps and entered the hut. she was six years older than her brother and would have been extremely like him had it not been for the dull and coarsely changeable expression (common to all deaf and dumb people) of her face. she wore a coarse smock all patched; her feet were bare and muddy, and on her head she had an old blue kerchief. her neck, arms, and face were sinewy like a peasant's. her clothing and her whole appearance indicated that she always did the hard work of a man. she brought in a heap of logs which she threw down by the oven. then she went up to her brother, and with a joyful smile which made her whole face pucker up, touched him on the shoulder and began making rapid signs to him with her hands, her face, and whole body. 'that's right, that's right, stepka is a trump!' answered the brother, nodding. 'she's fetched everything and mended everything, she's a trump! here, take this for it!' he brought out two pieces of gingerbread from his pocket and gave them to her. the dumb woman's face flushed with pleasure, and she began making a weird noise for joy. having seized the gingerbread she began to gesticulate still more rapidly, frequently pointing in one direction and passing her thick finger over her eyebrows and her face. lukashka understood her and kept nodding, while he smiled slightly. she was telling him to give the girls dainties, and that the girls liked him, and that one girl, maryanka--the best of them all--loved him. she indicated maryanka by rapidly pointing in the direction of maryanka's home and to her own eyebrows and face, and by smacking her lips and swaying her head. 'loves' she expressed by pressing her hands to her breast, kissing her hand, and pretending to embrace someone. their mother returned to the hut, and seeing what her dumb daughter was saying, smiled and shook her head. her daughter showed her the gingerbread and again made the noise which expressed joy. 'i told ulitka the other day that i'd send a matchmaker to them,' said the mother. 'she took my words well.' lukashka looked silently at his mother. 'but how about selling the wine, mother? i need a horse.' 'i'll cart it when i have time. i must get the barrels ready,' said the mother, evidently not wishing her son to meddle in domestic matters. 'when you go out you'll find a bag in the passage. i borrowed from the neighbours and got something for you to take back to the cordon; or shall i put it in your saddle-bag?' 'all right,' answered lukashka. 'and if girey khan should come across the river send him to me at the cordon, for i shan't get leave again for a long time now; i have some business with him.' he began to get ready to start. 'i will send him on,' said the old woman. 'it seems you have been spreeing at yamka's all the time. i went out in the night to see the cattle, and i think it was your voice i heard singing songs.' lukashka did not reply, but went out into the passage, threw the bags over his shoulder, tucked up the skirts of his coat, took his musket, and then stopped for a moment on the threshold. 'good-bye, mother!' he said as he closed the gate behind him. 'send me a small barrel with nazarka. i promised it to the lads, and he'll call for it.' 'may christ keep you, lukashka. god be with you! i'll send you some, some from the new barrel,' said the old woman, going to the fence: 'but listen,' she added, leaning over the fence. the cossack stopped. 'you've been making merry here; well, that's all right. why should not a young man amuse himself? god has sent you luck and that's good. but now look out and mind, my son. don't you go and get into mischief. above all, satisfy your superiors: one has to! and i will sell the wine and find money for a horse and will arrange a match with the girl for you.' 'all right, all right!' answered her son, frowning. his deaf sister shouted to attract his attention. she pointed to her head and the palm of her hand, to indicate the shaved head of a chechen. then she frowned, and pretending to aim with a gun, she shrieked and began rapidly humming and shaking her head. this meant that lukashka should kill another chechen. lukashka understood. he smiled, and shifting the gun at his back under his cloak stepped lightly and rapidly, and soon disappeared in the thick mist. the old woman, having stood a little while at the gate, returned silently to the hut and immediately began working. chapter xviii lukasha returned to the cordon and at the same time daddy eroshka whistled to his dogs and, climbing over his wattle fence, went to olenin's lodging, passing by the back of the houses (he disliked meeting women before going out hunting or shooting). he found olenin still asleep, and even vanyusha, though awake, was still in bed and looking round the room considering whether it was not time to get up, when daddy eroshka, gun on shoulder and in full hunter's trappings, opened the door. 'a cudgel!' he shouted in his deep voice. 'an alarm! the chechens are upon us! ivan! get the samovar ready for your master, and get up yourself--quick,' cried the old man. 'that's our way, my good man! why even the girls are already up! look out of the window. see, she's going for water and you're still sleeping!' olenin awoke and jumped up, feeling fresh and lighthearted at the sight of the old man and at the sound of his voice. 'quick, vanyusha, quick!' he cried. 'is that the way you go hunting?' said the old man. 'others are having their breakfast and you are asleep! lyam! here!' he called to his dog. 'is your gun ready?' he shouted, as loud as if a whole crowd were in the hut. 'well, it's true i'm guilty, but it can't be helped! the powder, vanyusha, and the wads!' said olenin. 'a fine!' shouted the old man. 'du tay voulay vou?' asked vanyusha, grinning. 'you're not one of us--your gabble is not like our speech, you devil!' the old man shouted at vanyusha, showing the stumps of his teeth. 'a first offence must be forgiven,' said olenin playfully, drawing on his high boots. 'the first offence shall be forgiven,' answered eroshka, 'but if you oversleep another time you'll be fined a pail of chikhir. when it gets warmer you won't find the deer.' 'and even if we do find him he is wiser than we are,' said olenin, repeating the words spoken by the old man the evening before, 'and you can't deceive him!' 'yes, laugh away! you kill one first, and then you may talk. now then, hurry up! look, there's the master himself coming to see you,' added eroshka, looking out of the window. 'just see how he's got himself up. he's put on a new coat so that you should see that he's an officer. ah, these people, these people!' sure enough vanyusha came in and announced that the master of the house wished to see olenin. 'l'arjan!' he remarked profoundly, to forewarn his master of the meaning of this visitation. following him, the master of the house in a new circassian coat with an officer's stripes on the shoulders and with polished boots (quite exceptional among cossacks) entered the room, swaying from side to side, and congratulated his lodger on his safe arrival. the cornet, elias vasilich, was an educated cossack. he had been to russia proper, was a regimental schoolteacher, and above all he was noble. he wished to appear noble, but one could not help feeling beneath his grotesque pretence of polish, his affectation, his self-confidence, and his absurd way of speaking, he was just the same as daddy eroshka. this could also be clearly seen by his sunburnt face and his hands and his red nose. olenin asked him to sit down. 'good morning. father elias vasilich,' said eroshka, rising with (or so it seemed to olenin) an ironically low bow. 'good morning. daddy. so you're here already,' said the cornet, with a careless nod. the cornet was a man of about forty, with a grey pointed beard, skinny and lean, but handsome and very fresh-looking for his age. having come to see olenin he was evidently afraid of being taken for an ordinary cossack, and wanted to let olenin feel his importance from the first. 'that's our egyptian nimrod,' he remarked, addressing olenin and pointing to the old man with a self-satisfied smile. 'a mighty hunter before the lord! he's our foremost man on every hand. you've already been pleased to get acquainted with him.' daddy eroshka gazed at his feet in their shoes of wet raw hide and shook his head thoughtfully at the cornet's ability and learning, and muttered to himself: 'gyptian nimvrod! what things he invents!' 'yes, you see we mean to go hunting,' answered olenin. 'yes, sir, exactly,' said the cornet, 'but i have a small business with you.' 'what do you want?' 'seeing that you are a gentleman,' began the cornet, 'and as i may understand myself to be in the rank of an officer too, and therefore we may always progressively negotiate, as gentlemen do.' (he stopped and looked with a smile at olenin and at the old man.) 'but if you have the desire with my consent, then, as my wife is a foolish woman of our class, she could not quite comprehend your words of yesterday's date. therefore my quarters might be let for six rubles to the regimental adjutant, without the stables; but i can always avert that from myself free of charge. but, as you desire, therefore i, being myself of an officer's rank, can come to an agreement with you in everything personally, as an inhabitant of this district, not according to our customs, but can maintain the conditions in every way....' 'speaks clearly!' muttered the old man. the cornet continued in the same strain for a long time. at last, not without difficulty, olenin gathered that the cornet wished to let his rooms to him, olenin, for six rubles a month. the latter gladly agreed to this, and offered his visitor a glass of tea. the cornet declined it. 'according to our silly custom we consider it a sort of sin to drink out of a "worldly" tumbler,' he said. 'though, of course, with my education i may understand, but my wife from her human weakness...' 'well then, will you have some tea?' 'if you will permit me, i will bring my own particular glass,' answered the cornet, and stepped out into the porch. 'bring me my glass!' he cried. in a few minutes the door opened and a young sunburnt arm in a print sleeve thrust itself in, holding a tumbler in the hand. the cornet went up, took it, and whispered something to his daughter. olenin poured tea for the cornet into the latter's own 'particular' glass, and for eroshka into a 'worldly' glass. 'however, i do not desire to detain you,' said the cornet, scalding his lips and emptying his tumbler. 'i too have a great liking for fishing, and i am here, so to say, only on leave of absence for recreation from my duties. i too have the desire to tempt fortune and see whether some gifts of the terek may not fall to my share. i hope you too will come and see us and have a drink of our wine, according to the custom of our village,' he added. the cornet bowed, shook hands with olenin, and went out. while olenin was getting ready, he heard the cornet giving orders to his family in an authoritative and sensible tone, and a few minutes later he saw him pass by the window in a tattered coat with his trousers rolled up to his knees and a fishing net over his shoulder. 'a rascal!' said daddy eroshka, emptying his 'worldly' tumbler. 'and will you really pay him six rubles? was such a thing ever heard of? they would let you the best hut in the village for two rubles. what a beast! why, i'd let you have mine for three!' 'no, i'll remain here,' said olenin. 'six rubles! ... clearly it's a fool's money. eh, eh, eh! answered the old man. 'let's have some chikhir, ivan!' having had a snack and a drink of vodka to prepare themselves for the road, olenin and the old man went out together before eight o'clock. at the gate they came up against a wagon to which a pair of oxen were harnessed. with a white kerchief tied round her head down to her eyes, a coat over her smock, and wearing high boots, maryanka with a long switch in her hand was dragging the oxen by a cord tied to their horns. 'mammy,' said the old man, pretending that he was going to seize her. maryanka flourished her switch at him and glanced merrily at them both with her beautiful eyes. olenin felt still more light-hearted. 'now then, come on, come on,' he said, throwing his gun on his shoulder and conscious of the girl's eyes upon him. 'gee up!' sounded maryanka's voice behind them, followed by the creak of the moving wagon. as long as their road lay through the pastures at the back of the village eroshka went on talking. he could not forget the cornet and kept on abusing him. 'why are you so angry with him?' asked olenin. 'he's stingy. i don't like it,' answered the old man. 'he'll leave it all behind when he dies! then who's he saving up for? he's built two houses, and he's got a second garden from his brother by a law-suit. and in the matter of papers what a dog he is! they come to him from other villages to fill up documents. as he writes it out, exactly so it happens. he gets it quite exact. but who is he saving for? he's only got one boy and the girl; when she's married who'll be left?' 'well then, he's saving up for her dowry,' said olenin. 'what dowry? the girl is sought after, she's a fine girl. but he's such a devil that he must yet marry her to a rich fellow. he wants to get a big price for her. there's luke, a cossack, a neighbour and a nephew of mine, a fine lad. it's he who killed the chechen--he has been wooing her for a long time, but he hasn't let him have her. he's given one excuse, and another, and a third. "the girl's too young," he says. but i know what he is thinking. he wants to keep them bowing to him. he's been acting shamefully about that girl. still, they will get her for lukashka, because he is the best cossack in the village, a brave, who has killed an abrek and will be rewarded with a cross.' 'but how about this? when i was walking up and down the yard last night, i saw my landlord's daughter and some cossack kissing,' said olenin. 'you're pretending!' cried the old man, stopping. 'on my word,' said olenin. 'women are the devil,' said eroshka pondering. 'but what cossack was it?' 'i couldn't see.' 'well, what sort of a cap had he, a white one?' 'yes.' 'and a red coat? about your height?' 'no, a bit taller.' 'it's he!' and eroshka burst out laughing. 'it's himself, it's mark. he is luke, but i call him mark for a joke. his very self! i love him. i was just such a one myself. what's the good of minding them? my sweetheart used to sleep with her mother and her sister-in-law, but i managed to get in. she used to sleep upstairs; that witch her mother was a regular demon; it's awful how she hated me. well, i used to come with a chum, girchik his name was. we'd come under her window and i'd climb on his shoulders, push up the window and begin groping about. she used to sleep just there on a bench. once i woke her up and she nearly called out. she hadn't recognized me. "who is there?" she said, and i could not answer. her mother was even beginning to stir, but i took off my cap and shoved it over her mouth; and she at once knew it by a seam in it, and ran out to me. i used not to want anything then. she'd bring along clotted cream and grapes and everything,' added eroshka (who always explained things practically), 'and she wasn't the only one. it was a life!' 'and what now?' 'now we'll follow the dog, get a pheasant to settle on a tree, and then you may fire.' 'would you have made up to maryanka?' 'attend to the dogs. i'll tell you tonight,' said the old man, pointing to his favourite dog, lyam. after a pause they continued talking, while they went about a hundred paces. then the old man stopped again and pointed to a twig that lay across the path. 'what do you think of that?' he said. 'you think it's nothing? it's bad that this stick is lying so.' 'why is it bad?' he smiled. 'ah, you don't know anything. just listen to me. when a stick lies like that don't you step across it, but go round it or throw it off the path this way, and say "father and son and holy ghost," and then go on with god's blessing. nothing will happen to you. that's what the old men used to teach me.' 'come, what rubbish!' said olenin. 'you'd better tell me more about maryanka. does she carry on with lukashka?' 'hush ... be quiet now!' the old man again interrupted in a whisper: 'just listen, we'll go round through the forest.' and the old man, stepping quietly in his soft shoes, led the way by a narrow path leading into the dense, wild, overgrown forest. now and again with a frown he turned to look at olenin, who rustled and clattered with his heavy boots and, carrying his gun carelessly, several times caught the twigs of trees that grew across the path. 'don't make a noise. step softly, soldier!' the old man whispered angrily. there was a feeling in the air that the sun had risen. the mist was dissolving but it still enveloped the tops of the trees. the forest looked terribly high. at every step the aspect changed: what had appeared like a tree proved to be a bush, and a reed looked like a tree. chapter xix the mist had partly lifted, showing the wet reed thatches, and was now turning into dew that moistened the road and the grass beside the fence. smoke rose everywhere in clouds from the chimneys. the people were going out of the village, some to their work, some to the river, and some to the cordon. the hunters walked together along the damp, grass-grown path. the dogs, wagging their tails and looking at their masters, ran on both sides of them. myriads of gnats hovered in the air and pursued the hunters, covering their backs, eyes, and hands. the air was fragrant with the grass and with the dampness of the forest. olenin continually looked round at the ox-cart in which maryanka sat urging on the oxen with a long switch. it was calm. the sounds from the village, audible at first, now no longer reached the sportsmen. only the brambles cracked as the dogs ran under them, and now and then birds called to one another. olenin knew that danger lurked in the forest, that abreks always hid in such places. but he knew too that in the forest, for a man on foot, a gun is a great protection. not that he was afraid, but he felt that another in his place might be; and looking into the damp misty forest and listening to the rare and faint sounds with strained attention, he changed his hold on his gun and experienced a pleasant feeling that was new to him. daddy eroshka went in front, stopping and carefully scanning every puddle where an animal had left a double track, and pointing it out to olenin. he hardly spoke at all and only occasionally made remarks in a whisper. the track they were following had once been made by wagons, but the grass had long overgrown it. the elm and plane-tree forest on both sides of them was so dense and overgrown with creepers that it was impossible to see anything through it. nearly every tree was enveloped from top to bottom with wild grape vines, and dark bramble bushes covered the ground thickly. every little glade was overgrown with blackberry bushes and grey feathery reeds. in places, large hoof-prints and small funnel-shaped pheasant-trails led from the path into the thicket. the vigour of the growth of this forest, untrampled by cattle, struck olenin at every turn, for he had never seen anything like it. this forest, the danger, the old man and his mysterious whispering, maryanka with her virile upright bearing, and the mountains--all this seemed to him like a dream. 'a pheasant has settled,' whispered the old man, looking round and pulling his cap over his face--'cover your mug! a pheasant!' he waved his arm angrily at olenin and pushed forward almost on all fours. 'he don't like a man's mug.' olenin was still behind him when the old man stopped and began examining a tree. a cock-pheasant on the tree clucked at the dog that was barking at it, and olenin saw the pheasant; but at that moment a report, as of a cannon, came from eroshka's enormous gun, the bird fluttered up and, losing some feathers, fell to the ground. coming up to the old man olenin disturbed another, and raising his gun he aimed and fired. the pheasant flew swiftly up and then, catching at the branches as he fell, dropped like a stone to the ground. 'good man!' the old man (who could not hit a flying bird) shouted, laughing. having picked up the pheasants they went on. olenin, excited by the exercise and the praise, kept addressing remarks to the old man. 'stop! come this way,' the old man interrupted. 'i noticed the track of deer here yesterday.' after they had turned into the thicket and gone some three hundred paces they scrambled through into a glade overgrown with reeds and partly under water. olenin failed to keep up with the old huntsman and presently daddy eroshka, some twenty paces in front, stooped down, nodding and beckoning with his arm. on coming up with him olenin saw a man's footprint to which the old man was pointing. 'd'you see?' 'yes, well?' said olenin, trying to speak as calmly as he could. 'a man's footstep!' involuntarily a thought of cooper's pathfinder and of abreks flashed through olenin's mind, but noticing the mysterious manner with which the old man moved on, he hesitated to question him and remained in doubt whether this mysteriousness was caused by fear of danger or by the sport. 'no, it's my own footprint,' the old man said quietly, and pointed to some grass under which the track of an animal was just perceptible. the old man went on; and olenin kept up with him. descending to lower ground some twenty paces farther on they came upon a spreading pear-tree, under which, on the black earth, lay the fresh dung of some animal. the spot, all covered over with wild vines, was like a cosy arbour, dark and cool. 'he's been here this morning,' said the old man with a sigh; 'the lair is still damp, quite fresh.' suddenly they heard a terrible crash in the forest some ten paces from where they stood. they both started and seized their guns, but they could see nothing and only heard the branches breaking. the rhythmical rapid thud of galloping was heard for a moment and then changed into a hollow rumble which resounded farther and farther off, re-echoing in wider and wider circles through the forest. olenin felt as though something had snapped in his heart. he peered carefully but vainly into the green thicket and then turned to the old man. daddy eroshka with his gun pressed to his breast stood motionless; his cap was thrust backwards, his eyes gleamed with an unwonted glow, and his open mouth, with its worn yellow teeth, seemed to have stiffened in that position. 'a homed stag!' he muttered, and throwing down his gun in despair he began pulling at his grey beard, 'here it stood. we should have come round by the path.... fool! fool!' and he gave his beard an angry tug. fool! pig!' he repeated, pulling painfully at his own beard. through the forest something seemed to fly away in the mist, and ever farther and farther off was heard the sound of the flight of the stag. it was already dusk when, hungry, tired, but full of vigour, olenin returned with the old man. dinner was ready. he ate and drank with the old man till he felt warm and merry. olenin then went out into the porch. again, to the west, the mountains rose before his eyes. again the old man told his endless stories of hunting, of abreks, of sweethearts, and of all that free and reckless life. again the fair maryanka went in and out and across the yard, her beautiful powerful form outlined by her smock. chapter xx the next day olenin went alone to the spot where he and the old man startled the stag. instead of passing round through the gate he climbed over the prickly hedge, as everybody else did, and before he had had time to pull out the thorns that had caught in his coat, his dog, which had run on in front, started two pheasants. he had hardly stepped among the briers when the pheasants began to rise at every step (the old man had not shown him that place the day before as he meant to keep it for shooting from behind the screen). olenin fired twelve times and killed five pheasants, but clambering after them through the briers he got so fatigued that he was drenched with perspiration. he called off his dog, uncocked his gun, put in a bullet above the small shot, and brushing away the mosquitoes with the wide sleeve of his circassian coat he went slowly to the spot where they had been the day before. it was however impossible to keep back the dog, who found trails on the very path, and olenin killed two more pheasants, so that after being detained by this it was getting towards noon before he began to find the place he was looking for. the day was perfectly clear, calm, and hot. the morning moisture had dried up even in the forest, and myriads of mosquitoes literally covered his face, his back, and his arms. his dog had turned from black to grey, its back being covered with mosquitoes, and so had olenin's coat through which the insects thrust their stings. olenin was ready to run away from them and it seemed to him that it was impossible to live in this country in the summer. he was about to go home, but remembering that other people managed to endure such pain he resolved to bear it and gave himself up to be devoured. and strange to say, by noontime the feeling became actually pleasant. he even felt that without this mosquito-filled atmosphere around him, and that mosquito-paste mingled with perspiration which his hand smeared over his face, and that unceasing irritation all over his body, the forest would lose for him some of its character and charm. these myriads of insects were so well suited to that monstrously lavish wild vegetation, these multitudes of birds and beasts which filled the forest, this dark foliage, this hot scented air, these runlets filled with turbid water which everywhere soaked through from the terek and gurgled here and there under the overhanging leaves, that the very thing which had at first seemed to him dreadful and intolerable now seemed pleasant. after going round the place where yesterday they had found the animal and not finding anything, he felt inclined to rest. the sun stood right above the forest and poured its perpendicular rays down on his back and head whenever he came out into a glade or onto the road. the seven heavy pheasants dragged painfully at his waist. having found the traces of yesterday's stag he crept under a bush into the thicket just where the stag had lain, and lay down in its lair. he examined the dark foliage around him, the place marked by the stag's perspiration and yesterday's dung, the imprint of the stag's knees, the bit of black earth it had kicked up, and his own footprints of the day before. he felt cool and comfortable and did not think of or wish for anything. and suddenly he was overcome by such a strange feeling of causeless joy and of love for everything, that from an old habit of his childhood he began crossing himself and thanking someone. suddenly, with extraordinary clearness, he thought: 'here am i, dmitri olenin, a being quite distinct from every other being, now lying all alone heaven only knows where--where a stag used to live--an old stag, a beautiful stag who perhaps had never seen a man, and in a place where no human being has ever sat or thought these thoughts. here i sit, and around me stand old and young trees, one of them festooned with wild grape vines, and pheasants are fluttering, driving one another about and perhaps scenting their murdered brothers.' he felt his pheasants, examined them, and wiped the warm blood off his hand onto his coat. 'perhaps the jackals scent them and with dissatisfied faces go off in another direction: above me, flying in among the leaves which to them seem enormous islands, mosquitoes hang in the air and buzz: one, two, three, four, a hundred, a thousand, a million mosquitoes, and all of them buzz something or other and each one of them is separate from all else and is just such a separate dmitri olenin as i am myself.' he vividly imagined what the mosquitoes buzzed: 'this way, this way, lads! here's some one we can eat!' they buzzed and stuck to him. and it was clear to him that he was not a russian nobleman, a member of moscow society, the friend and relation of so-and-so and so-and-so, but just such a mosquito, or pheasant, or deer, as those that were now living all around him. 'just as they, just as daddy eroshka, i shall live awhile and die, and as he says truly: "grass will grow and nothing more". 'but what though the grass does grow?' he continued thinking. 'still i must live and be happy, because happiness is all i desire. never mind what i am--an animal like all the rest, above whom the grass will grow and nothing more; or a frame in which a bit of the one god has been set,--still i must live in the very best way. how then must i live to be happy, and why was i not happy before?' and he began to recall his former life and he felt disgusted with himself. he appeared to himself to have been terribly exacting and selfish, though he now saw that all the while he really needed nothing for himself. and he looked round at the foliage with the light shining through it, at the setting sun and the clear sky, and he felt just as happy as before. 'why am i happy, and what used i to live for?' thought he. 'how much i exacted for myself; how i schemed and did not manage to gain anything but shame and sorrow! and, there now, i require nothing to be happy;' and suddenly a new light seemed to reveal itself to him. 'happiness is this!' he said to himself. 'happiness lies in living for others. that is evident. the desire for happiness is innate in every man; therefore it is legitimate. when trying to satisfy it selfishly--that is, by seeking for oneself riches, fame, comforts, or love--it may happen that circumstances arise which make it impossible to satisfy these desires. it follows that it is these desires that are illegitimate, but not the need for happiness. but what desires can always be satisfied despite external circumstances? what are they? love, self-sacrifice.' he was so glad and excited when he had discovered this, as it seemed to him, new truth, that he jumped up and began impatiently seeking some one to sacrifice himself for, to do good to and to love. 'since one wants nothing for oneself,' he kept thinking, 'why not live for others?' he took up his gun with the intention of returning home quickly to think this out and to find an opportunity of doing good. he made his way out of the thicket. when he had come out into the glade he looked around him; the sun was no longer visible above the tree-tops. it had grown cooler and the place seemed to him quite strange and not like the country round the village. everything seemed changed--the weather and the character of the forest; the sky was wrapped in clouds, the wind was rustling in the tree-tops, and all around nothing was visible but reeds and dying broken-down trees. he called to his dog who had run away to follow some animal, and his voice came back as in a desert. and suddenly he was seized with a terrible sense of weirdness. he grew frightened. he remembered the abreks and the murders he had been told about, and he expected every moment that an abrek would spring from behind every bush and he would have to defend his life and die, or be a coward. he thought of god and of the future life as for long he had not thought about them. and all around was that same gloomy stern wild nature. 'and is it worth while living for oneself,' thought he, 'when at any moment you may die, and die without having done any good, and so that no one will know of it?' he went in the direction where he fancied the village lay. of his shooting he had no further thought; but he felt tired to death and peered round at every bush and tree with particular attention and almost with terror, expecting every moment to be called to account for his life. after having wandered about for a considerable time he came upon a ditch down which was flowing cold sandy water from the terek, and, not to go astray any longer, he decided to follow it. he went on without knowing where the ditch would lead him. suddenly the reeds behind him crackled. he shuddered and seized his gun, and then felt ashamed of himself: the over-excited dog, panting hard, had thrown itself into the cold water of the ditch and was lapping it! he too had a drink, and then followed the dog in the direction it wished to go, thinking it would lead him to the village. but despite the dog's company everything around him seemed still more dreary. the forest grew darker and the wind grew stronger and stronger in the tops of the broken old trees. some large birds circled screeching round their nests in those trees. the vegetation grew poorer and he came oftener and oftener upon rustling reeds and bare sandy spaces covered with animal footprints. to the howling of the wind was added another kind of cheerless monotonous roar. altogether his spirits became gloomy. putting his hand behind him he felt his pheasants, and found one missing. it had broken off and was lost, and only the bleeding head and beak remained sticking in his belt. he felt more frightened than he had ever done before. he began to pray to god, and feared above all that he might die without having done anything good or kind; and he so wanted to live, and to live so as to perform a feat of self-sacrifice. chapter xxi suddenly it was as though the sun had shone into his soul. he heard russian being spoken, and also heard the rapid smooth flow of the terek, and a few steps farther in front of him saw the brown moving surface of the river, with the dim-coloured wet sand of its banks and shallows, the distant steppe, the cordon watch-tower outlined above the water, a saddled and hobbled horse among the brambles, and then the mountains opening out before him. the red sun appeared for an instant from under a cloud and its last rays glittered brightly along the river over the reeds, on the watch-tower, and on a group of cossacks, among whom lukashka's vigorous figure attracted olenin's involuntary attention. olenin felt that he was again, without any apparent cause, perfectly happy. he had come upon the nizhni-prototsk post on the terek, opposite a pro-russian tartar village on the other side of the river. he accosted the cossacks, but not finding as yet any excuse for doing anyone a kindness, he entered the hut; nor in the hut did he find any such opportunity. the cossacks received him coldly. on entering the mud hut he lit a cigarette. the cossacks paid little attention to him, first because he was smoking a cigarette, and secondly because they had something else to divert them that evening. some hostile chechens, relatives of the abrek who had been killed, had come from the hills with a scout to ransom the body; and the cossacks were waiting for their commanding officer's arrival from the village. the dead man's brother, tall and well shaped with a short cropped beard which was dyed red, despite his very tattered coat and cap was calm and majestic as a king. his face was very like that of the dead abrek. he did not deign to look at anyone, and never once glanced at the dead body, but sitting on his heels in the shade he spat as he smoked his short pipe, and occasionally uttered some few guttural sounds of command, which were respectfully listened to by his companion. he was evidently a brave who had met russians more than once before in quite other circumstances, and nothing about them could astonish or even interest him. olenin was about to approach the dead body and had begun to look at it when the brother, looking up at him from under his brows with calm contempt, said something sharply and angrily. the scout hastened to cover the dead man's face with his coat. olenin was struck by the dignified and stem expression of the brave's face. he began to speak to him, asking from what village he came, but the chechen, scarcely giving him a glance, spat contemptuously and turned away. olenin was so surprised at the chechen not being interested in him that he could only put it down to the man's stupidity or ignorance of russian; so he turned to the scout, who also acted as interpreter. the scout was as ragged as the other, but instead of being red-haired he was black-haired, restless, with extremely white gleaming teeth and sparkling black eyes. the scout willingly entered into conversation and asked for a cigarette. 'there were five brothers,' began the scout in his broken russian. 'this is the third brother the russians have killed, only two are left. he is a brave, a great brave!' he said, pointing to the chechen. 'when they killed ahmet khan (the dead brave) this one was sitting on the opposite bank among the reeds. he saw it all. saw him laid in the skiff and brought to the bank. he sat there till the night and wished to kill the old man, but the others would not let him.' lukashka went up to the speaker, and sat down. 'of what village?' asked he. 'from there in the hills,' replied the scout, pointing to the misty bluish gorge beyond the terek. 'do you know suuk-su? it is about eight miles beyond that.' 'do you know girey khan in suuk-su?' asked lukashka, evidently proud of the acquaintance. 'he is my kunak.' 'he is my neighbour,' answered the scout. 'he's a trump!' and lukashka, evidently much interested, began talking to the scout in tartar. presently a cossack captain, with the head of the village, arrived on horseback with a suite of two cossacks. the captain--one of the new type of cossack officers--wished the cossacks 'good health,' but no one shouted in reply, 'hail! good health to your honour,' as is customary in the russian army, and only a few replied with a bow. some, and among them lukashka, rose and stood erect. the corporal replied that all was well at the outposts. all this seemed ridiculous: it was as if these cossacks were playing at being soldiers. but these formalities soon gave place to ordinary ways of behaviour, and the captain, who was a smart cossack just like the others, began speaking fluently in tartar to the interpreter. they filled in some document, gave it to the scout, and received from him some money. then they approached the body. 'which of you is luke gavrilov?' asked the captain. lukishka took off his cap and came forward. 'i have reported your exploit to the commander. i don't know what will come of it. i have recommended you for a cross; you're too young to be made a sergeant. can you read?' 'i can't.' 'but what a fine fellow to look at!' said the captain, again playing the commander. 'put on your cap. which of the gavrilovs does he come of? ... the broad, eh?' 'his nephew,' replied the corporal. 'i know, i know. well, lend a hand, help them,' he said, turning to the cossacks. lukashka's face shone with joy and seemed handsomer than usual. he moved away from the corporal, and having put on his cap sat down beside olenin. when the body had been carried to the skiff the brother chechen descended to the bank. the cossacks involuntarily stepped aside to let him pass. he jumped into the boat and pushed off from the bank with his powerful leg, and now, as olenin noticed, for the first time threw a rapid glance at all the cossacks and then abruptly asked his companion a question. the latter answered something and pointed to lukashka. the chechen looked at him and, turning slowly away, gazed at the opposite bank. that look expressed not hatred but cold contempt. he again made some remark. 'what is he saying?' olenin asked of the fidgety scout. 'yours kill ours, ours slay yours. it's always the same,' replied the scout, evidently inventing, and he smiled, showing his white teeth, as he jumped into the skiff. the dead man's brother sat motionless, gazing at the opposite bank. he was so full of hatred and contempt that there was nothing on this side of the river that moved his curiosity. the scout, standing up at one end of the skiff and dipping his paddle now on one side now on the other, steered skilfully while talking incessantly. the skiff became smaller and smaller as it moved obliquely across the stream, the voices became scarcely audible, and at last, still within sight, they landed on the opposite bank where their horses stood waiting. there they lifted out the corpse and (though the horse shied) laid it across one of the saddles, mounted, and rode at a foot-pace along the road past a tartar village from which a crowd came out to look at them. the cossacks on the russian side of the river were highly satisfied and jovial. laughter and jokes were heard on all sides. the captain and the head of the village entered the mud hut to regale themselves. lukashka, vainly striving to impart a sedate expression to his merry face, sat down with his elbows on his knees beside olenin and whittled away at a stick. 'why do you smoke?' he said with assumed curiosity. 'is it good?' he evidently spoke because he noticed olenin felt ill at ease and isolated among the cossacks. 'it's just a habit,' answered olenin. 'why?' 'h'm, if one of us were to smoke there would be a row! look there now, the mountains are not far off,' continued lukashka, 'yet you can't get there! how will you get back alone? it's getting dark. i'll take you, if you like. you ask the corporal to give me leave.' 'what a fine fellow!' thought olenin, looking at the cossack's bright face. he remembered maryanka and the kiss he had heard by the gate, and he was sorry for lukashka and his want of culture. 'what confusion it is,' he thought. 'a man kills another and is happy and satisfied with himself as if he had done something excellent. can it be that nothing tells him that it is not a reason for any rejoicing, and that happiness lies not in killing, but in sacrificing oneself?' 'well, you had better not meet him again now, mate!' said one of the cossacks who had seen the skiff off, addressing lukashka. 'did you hear him asking about you?' lukashka raised his head. 'my godson?' said lukashka, meaning by that word the dead chechen. 'your godson won't rise, but the red one is the godson's brother!' 'let him thank god that he got off whole himself,' replied lukashka. 'what are you glad about?' asked olenin. 'supposing your brother had been killed; would you be glad?' the cossack looked at olenin with laughing eyes. he seemed to have understood all that olenin wished to say to him, but to be above such considerations. 'well, that happens too! don't our fellows get killed sometimes?' chapter xxii the captain and the head of the village rode away, and olenin, to please lukashka as well as to avoid going back alone through the dark forest, asked the corporal to give lukashka leave, and the corporal did so. olenin thought that lukashka wanted to see maryanka and he was also glad of the companionship of such a pleasant-looking and sociable cossack. lukashka and maryanka he involuntarily united in his mind, and he found pleasure in thinking about them. 'he loves maryanka,' thought olenin, 'and i could love her,' and a new and powerful emotion of tenderness overcame him as they walked homewards together through the dark forest. lukashka too felt happy; something akin to love made itself felt between these two very different young men. every time they glanced at one another they wanted to laugh. 'by which gate do you enter?' asked olenin. 'by the middle one. but i'll see you as far as the marsh. after that you have nothing to fear.' olenin laughed. 'do you think i am afraid? go back, and thank you. i can get on alone.' 'it's all right! what have i to do? and how can you help being afraid? even we are afraid,' said lukashka to set olenin's self-esteem at rest, and he laughed too. 'then come in with me. we'll have a talk and a drink and in the morning you can go back.' 'couldn't i find a place to spend the night?' laughed lukashka. 'but the corporal asked me to go back.' 'i heard you singing last night, and also saw you.' 'every one...' and luke swayed his head. 'is it true you are getting married?' asked olenin. 'mother wants me to marry. but i have not got a horse yet.' 'aren't you in the regular service?' 'oh dear no! i've only just joined, and have not got a horse yet, and don't know how to get one. that's why the marriage does not come off.' 'and what would a horse cost?' 'we were bargaining for one beyond the river the other day and they would not take sixty rubles for it, though it is a nogay horse.' 'will you come and be my drabant?' (a drabant was a kind of orderly attached to an officer when campaigning.) 'i'll get it arranged and will give you a horse,' said olenin suddenly. 'really now, i have two and i don't want both.' 'how--don't want it?' lukashka said, laughing. 'why should you make me a present? we'll get on by ourselves by god's help.' 'no, really! or don't you want to be a drabant?' said olenin, glad that it had entered his head to give a horse to lukashka, though, without knowing why, he felt uncomfortable and confused and did not know what to say when he tried to speak. lukashka was the first to break the silence. 'have you a house of your own in russia?' he asked. olenin could not refrain from replying that he had not only one, but several houses. 'a good house? bigger than ours?' asked lukashka good-naturedly. 'much bigger; ten times as big and three storeys high,' replied olenin. 'and have you horses such as ours?' 'i have a hundred horses, worth three or four hundred rubles each, but they are not like yours. they are trotters, you know.... but still, i like the horses here best.' 'well, and did you come here of your own free will, or were you sent?' said lukashka, laughing at him. 'look! that's where you lost your way,' he added, 'you should have turned to the right.' 'i came by my own wish,' replied olenin. 'i wanted to see your parts and to join some expeditions.' 'i would go on an expedition any day,' said lukashka. 'd'you hear the jackals howling?' he added, listening. 'i say, don't you feel any horror at having killed a man?' asked olenin. 'what's there to be frightened about? but i should like to join an expedition,' lukashka repeated. 'how i want to! how i want to!' 'perhaps we may be going together. our company is going before the holidays, and your "hundred" too.' 'and what did you want to come here for? you've a house and horses and serfs. in your place i'd do nothing but make merry! and what is your rank?' 'i am a cadet, but have been recommended for a commission.' 'well, if you're not bragging about your home, if i were you i'd never have left it! yes, i'd never have gone away anywhere. do you find it pleasant living among us?' 'yes, very pleasant,' answered olenin. it had grown quite dark before, talking in this way, they approached the village. they were still surrounded by the deep gloom of the forest. the wind howled through the tree-tops. the jackals suddenly seemed to be crying close beside them, howling, chuckling, and sobbing; but ahead of them in the village the sounds of women's voices and the barking of dogs could already be heard; the outlines of the huts were clearly to be seen; lights gleamed and the air was filled with the peculiar smell of kisyak smoke. olenin felt keenly, that night especially, that here in this village was his home, his family, all his happiness, and that he never had and never would live so happily anywhere as he did in this cossack village. he was so fond of everybody and especially of lukashka that night. on reaching home, to lukashka's great surprise, olenin with his own hands led out of the shed a horse he had bought in groznoe--it was not the one he usually rode but another--not a bad horse though no longer young, and gave it to lukashka. 'why should you give me a present?' said lukashka, 'i have not yet done anything for you.' 'really it is nothing,' answered olenin. 'take it, and you will give me a present, and we'll go on an expedition against the enemy together.' lukashka became confused. 'but what d'you mean by it? as if a horse were of little value,' he said without looking at the horse. 'take it, take it! if you don't you will offend me. vanyusha! take the grey horse to his house.' lukashka took hold of the halter. 'well then, thank you! this is something unexpected, undreamt of.' olenin was as happy as a boy of twelve. 'tie it up here. it's a good horse. i bought it in groznoe; it gallops splendidly! vanyusha, bring us some chikhir. come into the hut.' the wine was brought. lukashka sat down and took the wine-bowl. 'god willing i'll find a way to repay you,' he said, finishing his wine. 'how are you called?' 'dmitri andreich.' 'well, 'mitry andreich, god bless you. we will be kunaks. now you must come to see us. though we are not rich people still we can treat a kunak, and i will tell mother in case you need anything--clotted cream or grapes--and if you come to the cordon i'm your servant to go hunting or to go across the river, anywhere you like! there now, only the other day, what a boar i killed, and i divided it among the cossacks, but if i had only known, i'd have given it to you.' 'that's all right, thank you! but don't harness the horse, it has never been in harness.' 'why harness the horse? and there is something else i'll tell you if you like,' said lukashka, bending his head. 'i have a kunak, girey khan. he asked me to lie in ambush by the road where they come down from the mountains. shall we go together? i'll not betray you. i'll be your murid.' 'yes, we'll go; we'll go some day.' lukashka seemed quite to have quieted down and to have understood olenin's attitude towards him. his calmness and the ease of his behaviour surprised olenin, and he did not even quite like it. they talked long, and it was late when lukashka, not tipsy (he never was tipsy) but having drunk a good deal, left olenin after shaking hands. olenin looked out of the window to see what he would do. lukashka went out, hanging his head. then, having led the horse out of the gate, he suddenly shook his head, threw the reins of the halter over its head, sprang onto its back like a cat, gave a wild shout, and galloped down the street. olenin expected that lukishka would go to share his joy with maryanka, but though he did not do so olenin still felt his soul more at ease than ever before in his life. he was as delighted as a boy, and could not refrain from telling vanyusha not only that he had given lukashka the horse, but also why he had done it, as well as his new theory of happiness. vanyusha did not approve of his theory, and announced that 'l'argent il n'y a pas!' and that therefore it was all nonsense. lukashka rode home, jumped off the horse, and handed it over to his mother, telling her to let it out with the communal cossack herd. he himself had to return to the cordon that same night. his deaf sister undertook to take the horse, and explained by signs that when she saw the man who had given the horse, she would bow down at his feet. the old woman only shook her head at her son's story, and decided in her own mind that he had stolen it. she therefore told the deaf girl to take it to the herd before daybreak. lukashka went back alone to the cordon pondering over olenin's action. though he did not consider the horse a good one, yet it was worth at least forty rubles and lukashka was very glad to have the present. but why it had been given him he could not at all understand, and therefore he did not experience the least feeling of gratitude. on the contrary, vague suspicions that the cadet had some evil intentions filled his mind. what those intentions were he could not decide, but neither could he admit the idea that a stranger would give him a horse worth forty rubles for nothing, just out of kindness; it seemed impossible. had he been drunk one might understand it! he might have wished to show off. but the cadet had been sober, and therefore must have wished to bribe him to do something wrong. 'eh, humbug!' thought lukashka. 'haven't i got the horse and we'll see later on. i'm not a fool myself and we shall see who'll get the better of the other,' he thought, feeling the necessity of being on his guard, and therefore arousing in himself unfriendly feelings towards olenin. he told no one how he had got the horse. to some he said he had bought it, to others he replied evasively. however, the truth soon got about in the village, and lukashka's mother and maryanka, as well as elias vasilich and other cossacks, when they heard of olenin's unnecessary gift, were perplexed, and began to be on their guard against the cadet. but despite their fears his action aroused in them a great respect for his simplicity and wealth. 'have you heard,' said one, 'that the cadet quartered on elias vasilich has thrown a fifty-ruble horse at lukashka? he's rich! ...' 'yes, i heard of it,' replied another profoundly, 'he must have done him some great service. we shall see what will come of this cadet. eh! what luck that snatcher has!' 'those cadets are crafty, awfully crafty,' said a third. 'see if he don't go setting fire to a building, or doing something!' chapter xxiii olenin's life went on with monotonous regularity. he had little intercourse with the commanding officers or with his equals. the position of a rich cadet in the caucasus was peculiarly advantageous in this respect. he was not sent out to work, or for training. as a reward for going on an expedition he was recommended for a commission, and meanwhile he was left in peace. the officers regarded him as an aristocrat and behaved towards him with dignity. cardplaying and the officers' carousals accompanied by the soldier-singers, of which he had had experience when he was with the detachment, did not seem to him attractive, and he also avoided the society and life of the officers in the village. the life of officers stationed in a cossack village has long had its own definite form. just as every cadet or officer when in a fort regularly drinks porter, plays cards, and discusses the rewards given for taking part in the expeditions, so in the cossack villages he regularly drinks chikhir with his hosts, treats the girls to sweet-meats and honey, dangles after the cossack women, and falls in love, and occasionally marries there. olenin always took his own path and had an unconscious objection to the beaten tracks. and here, too, he did not follow the ruts of a caucasian officer's life. it came quite naturally to him to wake up at daybreak. after drinking tea and admiring from his porch the mountains, the morning, and maryanka, he would put on a tattered ox-hide coat, sandals of soaked raw hide, buckle on a dagger, take a gun, put cigarettes and some lunch in a little bag, call his dog, and soon after five o'clock would start for the forest beyond the village. towards seven in the evening he would return tired and hungry with five or six pheasants hanging from his belt (sometimes with some other animal) and with his bag of food and cigarettes untouched. if the thoughts in his head had lain like the lunch and cigarettes in the bag, one might have seen that during all those fourteen hours not a single thought had moved in it. he returned morally fresh, strong, and perfectly happy, and he could not tell what he had been thinking about all the time. were they ideas, memories, or dreams that had been flitting through his mind? they were frequently all three. he would rouse himself and ask what he had been thinking about; and would see himself as a cossack working in a vineyard with his cossack wife, or an abrek in the mountains, or a boar running away from himself. and all the time he kept peering and watching for a pheasant, a boar, or a deer. in the evening daddy eroshka would be sure to be sitting with him. vanyusha would bring a jug of chikhir, and they would converse quietly, drink, and separate to go quite contentedly to bed. the next day he would again go shooting, again be healthily weary, again they would sit conversing and drink their fill, and again be happy. sometimes on a holiday or day of rest olenin spent the whole day at home. then his chief occupation was watching maryanka, whose every movement, without realizing it himself, he followed greedily from his window or his porch. he regarded maryanka and loved her (so he thought) just as he loved the beauty of the mountains and the sky, and he had no thought of entering into any relations with her. it seemed to him that between him and her such relations as there were between her and the cossack lukashka could not exist, and still less such as often existed between rich officers and other cossack girls. it seemed to him that if he tried to do as his fellow officers did, he would exchange his complete enjoyment of contemplation for an abyss of suffering, disillusionment, and remorse. besides, he had already achieved a triumph of self-sacrifice in connexion with her which had given him great pleasure, and above all he was in a way afraid of maryanka and would not for anything have ventured to utter a word of love to her lightly. once during the summer, when olenin had not gone out shooting but was sitting at home, quite unexpectedly a moscow acquaintance, a very young man whom he had met in society, came in. 'ah, mon cher, my dear fellow, how glad i was when i heard that you were here!' he began in his moscow french, and he went on intermingling french words in his remarks. 'they said, "olenin". what olenin? and i was so pleased.... fancy fate bringing us together here! well, and how are you? how? why?' and prince beletski told his whole story: how he had temporarily entered the regiment, how the commander-in-chief had offered to take him as an adjutant, and how he would take up the post after this campaign although personally he felt quite indifferent about it. 'living here in this hole one must at least make a career--get a cross--or a rank--be transferred to the guards. that is quite indispensable, not for myself but for the sake of my relations and friends. the prince received me very well; he is a very decent fellow,' said beletski, and went on unceasingly. 'i have been recommended for the st. anna cross for the expedition. now i shall stay here a bit until we start on the campaign. it's capital here. what women! well, and how are you getting on? i was told by our captain, startsev you know, a kind-hearted stupid creature.... well, he said you were living like an awful savage, seeing no one! i quite understand you don't want to be mixed up with the set of officers we have here. i am so glad now you and i will be able to see something of one another. i have put up at the cossack corporal's house. there is such a girl there. ustenka! i tell you she's just charming.' and more and more french and russian words came pouring forth from that world which olenin thought he had left for ever. the general opinion about beletski was that he was a nice, good-natured fellow. perhaps he really was; but in spite of his pretty, good-natured face, olenin thought him extremely unpleasant. he seemed just to exhale that filthiness which olenin had forsworn. what vexed him most was that he could not--had not the strength--abruptly to repulse this man who came from that world: as if that old world he used to belong to had an irresistible claim on him. olenin felt angry with beletski and with himself, yet against his wish he introduced french phrases into his own conversation, was interested in the commander-in-chief and in their moscow acquaintances, and because in this cossack village he and beletski both spoke french, he spoke contemptuously of their fellow officers and of the cossacks, and was friendly with beletski, promising to visit him and inviting him to drop in to see him. olenin however did not himself go to see beletski. vanyusha for his part approved of beletski, remarking that he was a real gentleman. beletski at once adopted the customary life of a rich officer in a cossack village. before olenin's eyes, in one month he came to be like an old resident of the village; he made the old men drunk, arranged evening parties, and himself went to parties arranged by the girls--bragged of his conquests, and even got so far that, for some unknown reason, the women and girls began calling him grandad, and the cossacks, to whom a man who loved wine and women was clearly understandable, got used to him and even liked him better than they did olenin, who was a puzzle to them. chapter xxiv it was five in the morning. vanyusha was in the porch heating the samovar, and using the leg of a long boot instead of bellows. olenin had already ridden off to bathe in the terek. (he had recently invented a new amusement: to swim his horse in the river.) his landlady was in her outhouse, and the dense smoke of the kindling fire rose from the chimney. the girl was milking the buffalo cow in the shed. 'can't keep quiet, the damned thing!' came her impatient voice, followed by the rhythmical sound of milking. from the street in front of the house horses' hoofs were heard clattering briskly, and olenin, riding bareback on a handsome dark-grey horse which was still wet and shining, rode up to the gate. maryanka's handsome head, tied round with a red kerchief, appeared from the shed and again disappeared. olenin was wearing a red silk shirt, a white circassian coat girdled with a strap which carried a dagger, and a tall cap. he sat his well-fed wet horse with a slightly conscious elegance and, holding his gun at his back, stooped to open the gate. his hair was still wet, and his face shone with youth and health. he thought himself handsome, agile, and like a brave; but he was mistaken. to any experienced caucasian he was still only a soldier. when he noticed that the girl had put out her head he stooped with particular smartness, threw open the gate and, tightening the reins, swished his whip and entered the yard. 'is tea ready, vanyusha?' he cried gaily, not looking at the door of the shed. he felt with pleasure how his fine horse, pressing down its flanks, pulling at the bridle and with every muscle quivering and with each foot ready to leap over the fence, pranced on the hard clay of the yard. <i>'c'est prêt</i>,' answered vanyusha. olenin felt as if maryanka's beautiful head was still looking out of the shed but he did not turn to look at her. as he jumped down from his horse he made an awkward movement and caught his gun against the porch, and turned a frightened look towards the shed, where there was no one to be seen and whence the sound of milking could still be heard. soon after he had entered the hut he came out again and sat down with his pipe and a book on the side of the porch which was not yet exposed to the rays of the sun. he meant not to go anywhere before dinner that day, and to write some long-postponed letters; but somehow he felt disinclined to leave his place in the porch, and he was as reluctant to go back into the hut as if it had been a prison. the housewife had heated her oven, and the girl, having driven the cattle, had come back and was collecting <i>kisyak</i> and heaping it up along the fence. olenin went on reading, but did not understand a word of what was written in the book that lay open before him. he kept lifting his eyes from it and looking at the powerful young woman who was moving about. whether she stepped into the moist morning shadow thrown by the house, or went out into the middle of the yard lit up by the joyous young light, so that the whole of her stately figure in its bright coloured garment gleamed in the sunshine and cast a black shadow--he always feared to lose any one of her movements. it delighted him to see how freely and gracefully her figure bent: into what folds her only garment, a pink smock, draped itself on her bosom and along her shapely legs; how she drew herself up and her tight-drawn smock showed the outline of her heaving bosom, how the soles of her narrow feet in her worn red slippers rested on the ground without altering their shape; how her strong arms with the sleeves rolled up, exerting the muscles, used the spade almost as if in anger, and how her deep dark eyes sometimes glanced at him. though the delicate brows frowned, yet her eyes expressed pleasure and a knowledge of her own beauty. 'i say, olenin, have you been up long?' said beletski as he entered the yard dressed in the coat of a caucasian officer. 'ah, beletski,' replied olenin, holding out his hand. 'how is it you are out so early?' 'i had to. i was driven out; we are having a ball tonight. maryanka, of course you'll come to ustenka's?' he added, turning to the girl. olenin felt surprised that beletski could address this woman so easily. but maryanka, as though she had not heard him, bent her head, and throwing the spade across her shoulder went with her firm masculine tread towards the outhouse. 'she's shy, the wench is shy,' beletski called after her. 'shy of you,' he added as, smiling gaily, he ran up the steps of the porch. 'how is it you are having a ball and have been driven out?' 'it's at ustenka's, at my landlady's, that the ball is, and you two are invited. a ball consists of a pie and a gathering of girls.' 'what should we do there?' beletski smiled knowingly and winked, jerking his head in the direction of the outhouse into which maryanka had disappeared. olenin shrugged his shoulders and blushed. 'well, really you are a strange fellow!' said he. 'come now, don't pretend' olenin frowned, and beletski noticing this smiled insinuatingly. 'oh, come, what do you mean?' he said, 'living in the same house--and such a fine girl, a splendid girl, a perfect beauty.' 'wonderfully beautiful! i never saw such a woman before,' replied olenin. 'well then?' said beletski, quite unable to understand the situation. 'it may be strange,' replied olenin, 'but why should i not say what is true? since i have lived here women don't seem to exist for me. and it is so good, really! now what can there be in common between us and women like these? eroshka--that's a different matter! he and i have a passion in common--sport.' 'there now! in common! and what have i in common with amalia ivanovna? it's the same thing! you may say they're not very clean--that's another matter... a la guerre, comme a la guerre! ...' 'but i have never known any amalia ivanovas, and have never known how to behave with women of that sort,' replied olenin. 'one cannot respect them, but these i do respect.' 'well go on respecting them! who wants to prevent you?' olenin did not reply. he evidently wanted to complete what he had begun to say. it was very near his heart. 'i know i am an exception...' he was visibly confused. 'but my life has so shaped itself that i not only see no necessity to renounce my rules, but i could not live here, let alone live as happily as i am doing, were i to live as you do. therefore i look for something quite different from what you look for.' beletski raised his eyebrows incredulously. 'anyhow, come to me this evening; maryanka will be there and i will make you acquainted. do come, please! if you feel dull you can go away. will you come?' 'i would come, but to speak frankly i am afraid of being' seriously carried away.' 'oh, oh, oh!' shouted beletski. 'only come, and i'll see that you aren't. will you? on your word?' 'i would come, but really i don't understand what we shall do; what part we shall play!' 'please, i beg of you. you will come?' 'yes, perhaps i'll come,' said olenin. 'really now! charming women such as one sees nowhere else, and to live like a monk! what an idea! why spoil your life and not make use of what is at hand? have you heard that our company is ordered to vozdvizhensk?' 'hardly. i was told the th company would be sent there,' said olenin. 'no. i have had a letter from the adjutant there. he writes that the prince himself will take part in the campaign. i am very glad i shall see something of him. i'm beginning to get tired of this place.' 'i hear we shall start on a raid soon.' 'i have not heard of it; but i have heard that krinovitsin has received the order of st. anna for a raid. he expected a lieutenancy,' said beletski laughing. 'he was let in! he has set off for headquarters.' it was growing dusk and olenin began thinking about the party. the invitation he had received worried him. he felt inclined to go, but what might take place there seemed strange, absurd, and even rather alarming. he knew that neither cossack men nor older women, nor anyone besides the girls, were to be there. what was going to happen? how was he to behave? what would they talk about? what connexion was there between him and those wild cossack girls? beletski had told him of such curious, cynical, and yet rigid relations. it seemed strange to think that he would be there in the same hut with maryanka and perhaps might have to talk to her. it seemed to him impossible when he remembered her majestic bearing. but beletski spoke of it as if it were all perfectly simple. 'is it possible that beletski will treat maryanka in the same way? that is interesting,' thought he. 'no, better not go. it's all so horrid, so vulgar, and above all--it leads to nothing!' but again he was worried by the question of what would take place; and besides he felt as if bound by a promise. he went out without having made up his mind one way or the other, but he walked as far as beletski's, and went in there. the hut in which beletski lived was like olenin's. it was raised nearly five feet from the ground on wooden piles, and had two rooms. in the first (which olenin entered by the steep flight of steps) feather beds, rugs, blankets, and cushions were tastefully and handsomely arranged, cossack fashion, along the main wall. on the side wall hung brass basins and weapons, while on the floor, under a bench, lay watermelons and pumpkins. in the second room there was a big brick oven, a table, and sectarian icons. it was here that beletski was quartered, with his camp-bed and his pack and trunks. his weapons hung on the wall with a little rug behind them, and on the table were his toilet appliances and some portraits. a silk dressing-gown had been thrown on the bench. beletski himself, clean and good-looking, lay on the bed in his underclothing, reading les trois mousquetaires. he jumped up. 'there, you see how i have arranged things. fine! well, it's good that you have come. they are working furiously. do you know what the pie is made of? dough with a stuffing of pork and grapes. but that's not the point. you just look at the commotion out there!' and really, on looking out of the window they saw an unusual bustle going on in the hut. girls ran in and out, now for one thing and now for another. 'will it soon be ready?' cried beletski. 'very soon! why? is grandad hungry?' and from the hut came the sound of ringing laughter. ustenka, plump, small, rosy, and pretty, with her sleeves turned up, ran into beletski's hut to fetch some plates. 'get away or i shall smash the plates!' she squeaked, escaping from beletski. 'you'd better come and help,' she shouted to olenin, laughing. 'and don't forget to get some refreshments for the girls.' ('refreshments' meaning spicebread and sweets.) 'and has maryanka come?' 'of course! she brought some dough.' 'do you know,' said beletski, 'if one were to dress ustenka up and clean and polish her up a bit, she'd be better than all our beauties. have you ever seen that cossack woman who married a colonel; she was charming! borsheva? what dignity! where do they get it...' 'i have not seen borsheva, but i think nothing could be better than the costume they wear here.' 'ah, i'm first-rate at fitting into any kind of life,' said beletski with a sigh of pleasure. 'i'll go and see what they are up to.' he threw his dressing-gown over his shoulders and ran out, shouting, 'and you look after the "refreshments".' olenin sent beletski's orderly to buy spice-bread and honey; but it suddenly seemed to him so disgusting to give money (as if he were bribing someone) that he gave no definite reply to the orderly's question: 'how much spice-bread with peppermint, and how much with honey?' 'just as you please.' 'shall i spend all the money,' asked the old soldier impressively. 'the peppermint is dearer. it's sixteen kopeks.' 'yes, yes, spend it all,' answered olenin and sat down by the window, surprised that his heart was thumping as if he were preparing himself for something serious and wicked. he heard screaming and shrieking in the girls' hut when beletski went there, and a few moments later saw how he jumped out and ran down the steps, accompanied by shrieks, bustle, and laughter. 'turned out,' he said. a little later ustenka entered and solemnly invited her visitors to come in: announcing that all was ready. when they came into the room they saw that everything was really ready. ustenka was rearranging the cushions along the wall. on the table, which was covered by a disproportionately small cloth, was a decanter of chikhir and some dried fish. the room smelt of dough and grapes. some half dozen girls in smart tunics, with their heads not covered as usual with kerchiefs, were huddled together in a corner behind the oven, whispering, giggling, and spluttering with laughter. 'i humbly beg you to do honour to my patron saint,' said ustenka, inviting her guests to the table. olenin noticed maryanka among the group of girls, who without exception were all handsome, and he felt vexed and hurt that he met her in such vulgar and awkward circumstances. he felt stupid and awkward, and made up his mind to do what beletski did. beletski stepped to the table somewhat solemnly yet with confidence and ease, drank a glass of wine to ustenka's health, and invited the others to do the same. ustenka announced that girls don't drink. 'we might with a little honey,' exclaimed a voice from among the group of girls. the orderly, who had just returned with the honey and spice-cakes, was called in. he looked askance (whether with envy or with contempt) at the gentlemen, who in his opinion were on the spree; and carefully and conscientiously handed over to them a piece of honeycomb and the cakes wrapped up in a piece of greyish paper, and began explaining circumstantially all about the price and the change, but beletski sent him away. having mixed honey with wine in the glasses, and having lavishly scattered the three pounds of spice-cakes on the table, beletski dragged the girls from their corners by force, made them sit down at the table, and began distributing the cakes among them. olenin involuntarily noticed how maryanka's sunburnt but small hand closed on two round peppermint nuts and one brown one, and that she did not know what to do with them. the conversation was halting and constrained, in spite of ustenka's and beletski's free and easy manner and their wish to enliven the company. olenin faltered, and tried to think of something to say, feeling that he was exciting curiosity and perhaps provoking ridicule and infecting the others with his shyness. he blushed, and it seemed to him that maryanka in particular was feeling uncomfortable. 'most likely they are expecting us to give them some money,' thought he. 'how are we to do it? and how can we manage quickest to give it and get away?' chapter xxv 'how is it you don't know your own lodger?' said beletski, addressing maryanka. 'how is one to know him if he never comes to see us?' answered maryanka, with a look at olenin. olenin felt frightened, he did not know of what. he flushed and, hardly knowing what he was saying, remarked: 'i'm afraid of your mother. she gave me such a scolding the first time i went in.' maryanka burst out laughing. 'and so you were frightened?' she said, and glanced at him and turned away. it was the first time olenin had seen the whole of her beautiful face. till then he had seen her with her kerchief covering her to the eyes. it was not for nothing that she was reckoned the beauty of the village. ustenka was a pretty girl, small, plump, rosy, with merry brown eyes, and red lips which were perpetually smiling and chattering. maryanka on the contrary was certainly not pretty but beautiful. her features might have been considered too masculine and almost harsh had it not been for her tall stately figure, her powerful chest and shoulders, and especially the severe yet tender expression of her long dark eyes which were darkly shadowed beneath their black brows, and for the gentle expression of her mouth and smile. she rarely smiled, but her smile was always striking. she seemed to radiate virginal strength and health. all the girls were good-looking, but they themselves and beletski, and the orderly when he brought in the spice-cakes, all involuntarily gazed at maryanka, and anyone addressing the girls was sure to address her. she seemed a proud and happy queen among them. beletski, trying to keep up the spirit of the party, chattered incessantly, made the girls hand round chikhir, fooled about with them, and kept making improper remarks in french about maryanka's beauty to olenin, calling her 'yours' (la votre), and advising him to behave as he did himself. olenin felt more and more uncomfortable. he was devising an excuse to get out and run away when beletski announced that ustenka, whose saint's day it was, must offer chikhir to everybody with a kiss. she consented on condition that they should put money on her plate, as is the custom at weddings. 'what fiend brought me to this disgusting feast?' thought olenin, rising to go away. 'where are you off to?' 'i'll fetch some tobacco,' he said, meaning to escape, but beletski seized his hand. 'i have some money,' he said to him in french. 'one can't go away, one has to pay here,' thought olenin bitterly, vexed at his own awkwardness. 'can't i really behave like beletski? i ought not to have come, but once i am here i must not spoil their fun. i must drink like a cossack,' and taking the wooden bowl (holding about eight tumblers) he almost filled it with chikhir and drank it almost all. the girls looked at him, surprised and almost frightened, as he drank. it seemed to them strange and not right. ustenka brought them another glass each, and kissed them both. 'there girls, now we'll have some fun,' she said, clinking on the plate the four rubles the men had put there. olenin no longer felt awkward, but became talkative. 'now, maryanka, it's your turn to offer us wine and a kiss,' said beletski, seizing her hand. 'yes, i'll give you such a kiss!' she said playfully, preparing to strike at him. 'one can kiss grandad without payment,' said another girl. 'there's a sensible girl,' said beletski, kissing the struggling girl. 'no, you must offer it,' he insisted, addressing maryanka. 'offer a glass to your lodger.' and taking her by the hand he led her to the bench and sat her down beside olenin. 'what a beauty,' he said, turning her head to see it in profile. maryanka did not resist but proudly smiling turned her long eyes towards olenin. 'a beautiful girl,' repeated beletski. 'yes, see what a beauty i am,' maryanka's look seemed to endorse. without considering what he was doing olenin embraced maryanka and was going to kiss her, but she suddenly extricated herself, upsetting beletski and pushing the top off the table, and sprang away towards the oven. there was much shouting and laughter. then beletski whispered something to the girls and suddenly they all ran out into the passage and locked the door behind them. 'why did you kiss beletski and won't kiss me?' asked olenin. 'oh, just so. i don't want to, that's all!' she answered, pouting and frowning. 'he's grandad,' she added with a smile. she went to the door and began to bang at it. 'why have you locked the door, you devils?' 'well, let them be there and us here,' said olenin, drawing closer to her. she frowned, and sternly pushed him away with her hand. and again she appeared so majestically handsome to olenin that he came to his senses and felt ashamed of what he was doing. he went to the door and began pulling at it himself. 'beletski! open the door! what a stupid joke!' maryanka again gave a bright happy laugh. 'ah, you're afraid of me?' she said. 'yes, you know you're as cross as your mother.' 'spend more of your time with eroshka; that will make the girls love you!' and she smiled, looking straight and close into his eyes. he did not know what to reply. 'and if i were to come to see you--' he let fall. 'that would be a different matter,' she replied, tossing her head. at that moment beletski pushed the door open, and maryanka sprang away from olenin and in doing so her thigh struck his leg. 'it's all nonsense what i have been thinking about--love and self-sacrifice and lukashka. happiness is the one thing. he who is happy is right,' flashed through olenin's mind, and with a strength unexpected to himself he seized and kissed the beautiful maryanka on her temple and her cheek. maryanka was not angry, but only burst into a loud laugh and ran out to the other girls. that was the end of the party. ustenka's mother, returned from her work, gave all the girls a scolding, and turned them all out. chapter xxvi 'yes,' thought olenin, as he walked home. 'i need only slacken the reins a bit and i might fall desperately in love with this cossack girl.' he went to bed with these thoughts, but expected it all to blow over and that he would continue to live as before. but the old life did not return. his relations to maryanka were changed. the wall that had separated them was broken down. olenin now greeted her every time they met. the master of the house having returned to collect the rent, on hearing of olenin's wealth and generosity invited him to his hut. the old woman received him kindly, and from the day of the party onwards olenin often went in of an evening and sat with them till late at night. he seemed to be living in the village just as he used to, but within him everything had changed. he spent his days in the forest, and towards eight o'clock, when it began to grow dusk, he would go to see his hosts, alone or with daddy eroshka. they grew so used to him that they were surprised when he stayed away. he paid well for his wine and was a quiet fellow. vanyusha would bring him his tea and he would sit down in a corner near the oven. the old woman did not mind him but went on with her work, and over their tea or their chikhir they talked about cossack affairs, about the neighbours, or about russia: olenin relating and the others inquiring. sometimes he brought a book and read to himself. maryanka crouched like a wild goat with her feet drawn up under her, sometimes on the top of the oven, sometimes in a dark corner. she did not take part in the conversations, but olenin saw her eyes and face and heard her moving or cracking sunflower seeds, and he felt that she listened with her whole being when he spoke, and was aware of his presence while he silently read to himself. sometimes he thought her eyes were fixed on him, and meeting their radiance he involuntarily became silent and gazed at her. then she would instantly hide her face and he would pretend to be deep in conversation with the old woman, while he listened all the time to her breathing and to her every movement and waited for her to look at him again. in the presence of others she was generally bright and friendly with him, but when they were alone together she was shy and rough. sometimes he came in before maryanka had returned home. suddenly he would hear her firm footsteps and catch a glimmer of her blue cotton smock at the open door. then she would step into the middle of the hut, catch sight of him, and her eyes would give a scarcely perceptible kindly smile, and he would feel happy and frightened. he neither sought for nor wished for anything from her, but every day her presence became more and more necessary to him. olenin had entered into the life of the cossack village so fully that his past seemed quite foreign to him. as to the future, especially a future outside the world in which he was now living, it did not interest him at all. when he received letters from home, from relatives and friends, he was offended by the evident distress with which they regarded him as a lost man, while he in his village considered those as lost who did not live as he was living. he felt sure he would never repent of having broken away from his former surroundings and of having settled down in this village to such a solitary and original life. when out on expeditions, and when quartered at one of the forts, he felt happy too; but it was here, from under daddy eroshka's wing, from the forest and from his hut at the end of the village, and especially when he thought of maryanka and lukashka, that he seemed to see the falseness of his former life. that falseness used to rouse his indignation even before, but now it seemed inexpressibly vile and ridiculous. here he felt freer and freer every day and more and more of a man. the caucasus now appeared entirely different to what his imagination had painted it. he had found nothing at all like his dreams, nor like the descriptions of the caucasus he had heard and read. 'there are none of all those chestnut steeds, precipices, amalet beks, heroes or villains,' thought he. 'the people live as nature lives: they die, are born, unite, and more are born--they fight, eat and drink, rejoice and die, without any restrictions but those that nature imposes on sun and grass, on animal and tree. they have no other laws.' therefore these people, compared to himself, appeared to him beautiful, strong, and free, and the sight of them made him feel ashamed and sorry for himself. often it seriously occurred to him to throw up everything, to get registered as a cossack, to buy a hut and cattle and marry a cossack woman (only not maryanka, whom he conceded to lukashka), and to live with daddy eroshka and go shooting and fishing with him, and go with the cossacks on their expeditions. 'why ever don't i do it? what am i waiting for?' he asked himself, and he egged himself on and shamed himself. 'am i afraid of doing what i hold to be reasonable and right? is the wish to be a simple cossack, to live close to nature, not to injure anyone but even to do good to others, more stupid than my former dreams, such as those of becoming a minister of state or a colonel?' but a voice seemed to say that he should wait, and not take any decision. he was held back by a dim consciousness that he could not live altogether like eroshka and lukashka because he had a different idea of happiness--he was held back by the thought that happiness lies in self-sacrifice. what he had done for lukashka continued to give him joy. he kept looking for occasions to sacrifice himself for others, but did not meet with them. sometimes he forgot this newly discovered recipe for happiness and considered himself capable of identifying his life with daddy eroshka's, but then he quickly bethought himself and promptly clutched at the idea of conscious self-sacrifice, and from that basis looked calmly and proudly at all men and at their happiness. chapter xxvii just before the vintage lukashka came on horseback to see olenin. he looked more dashing than ever. 'well? are you getting married?' asked olenin, greeting him merrily. lukashka gave no direct reply. 'there, i've exchanged your horse across the river. this is a horse! a kabarda horse from the lov stud. i know horses.' they examined the new horse and made him caracole about the yard. the horse really was an exceptionally fine one, a broad and long gelding, with glossy coat, thick silky tail, and the soft fine mane and crest of a thoroughbred. he was so well fed that 'you might go to sleep on his back' as lukashka expressed it. his hoofs, eyes, teeth, were exquisitely shaped and sharply outlined, as one only finds them in very pure-bred horses. olenin could not help admiring the horse, he had not yet met with such a beauty in the caucasus. 'and how it goes!' said lukashka, patting its neck. 'what a step! and so clever--he simply runs after his master.' 'did you have to add much to make the exchange?' asked olenin. 'i did not count it,' answered lukashka with a smile. 'i got him from a kunak.' 'a wonderfully beautiful horse! what would you take for it?' asked olenin. 'i have been offered a hundred and fifty rubles for it, but i'll give it you for nothing,' said lukashka, merrily. 'only say the word and it's yours. i'll unsaddle it and you may take it. only give me some sort of a horse for my duties.' 'no, on no account.' 'well then, here is a dagger i've brought you,' said lukashka, unfastening his girdle and taking out one of the two daggers which hung from it. 'i got it from across the river.' 'oh, thank you!' 'and mother has promised to bring you some grapes herself.' 'that's quite unnecessary. we'll balance up some day. you see i don't offer you any money for the dagger!' 'how could you? we are kunaks. it's just the same as when girey khan across the river took me into his home and said, "choose what you like!" so i took this sword. it's our custom.' they went into the hut and had a drink. 'are you staying here awhile?' asked olenin. 'no, i have come to say good-bye. they are sending me from the cordon to a company beyond the terek. i am going to-night with my comrade nazarka.' 'and when is the wedding to be?' 'i shall be coming back for the betrothal, and then i shall return to the company again,' lukashka replied reluctantly. 'what, and see nothing of your betrothed?' 'just so--what is the good of looking at her? when you go on campaign ask in our company for lukashka the broad. but what a lot of boars there are in our parts! i've killed two. i'll take you.' 'well, good-bye! christ save you.' lukashka mounted his horse, and without calling on maryanka, rode caracoling down the street, where nazarka was already awaiting him. 'i say, shan't we call round?' asked nazarka, winking in the direction of yamka's house. 'that's a good one!' said lukashka. 'here, take my horse to her and if i don't come soon give him some hay. i shall reach the company by the morning anyway.' 'hasn't the cadet given you anything more?' 'i am thankful to have paid him back with a dagger--he was going to ask for the horse,' said lukashka, dismounting and handing over the horse to nazarka. he darted into the yard past olenin's very window, and came up to the window of the cornet's hut. it was already quite dark. maryanka, wearing only her smock, was combing her hair preparing for bed. 'it's i--' whispered the cossack. maryanka's look was severely indifferent, but her face suddenly brightened up when she heard her name. she opened the window and leant out, frightened and joyous. 'what--what do you want?' she said. 'open!' uttered lukashka. 'let me in for a minute. i am so sick of waiting! it's awful!' he took hold of her head through the window and kissed her. 'really, do open!' 'why do you talk nonsense? i've told you i won't! have you come for long?' he did not answer but went on kissing her, and she did not ask again. 'there, through the window one can't even hug you properly,' said lukashka. 'maryanka dear!' came the voice of her mother, 'who is that with you?' lukashka took off his cap, which might have been seen, and crouched down by the window. 'go, be quick!' whispered maryanka. 'lukashka called round,' she answered; 'he was asking for daddy.' 'well then send him here!' 'he's gone; said he was in a hurry.' in fact, lukashka, stooping, as with big strides he passed under the windows, ran out through the yard and towards yamka's house unseen by anyone but olenin. after drinking two bowls of chikhir he and nazarka rode away to the outpost. the night was warm, dark, and calm. they rode in silence, only the footfall of their horses was heard. lukashka started a song about the cossack, mingal, but stopped before he had finished the first verse, and after a pause, turning to nazarka, said: 'i say, she wouldn't let me in!' 'oh?' rejoined nazarka. 'i knew she wouldn't. d'you know what yamka told me? the cadet has begun going to their house. daddy eroshka brags that he got a gun from the cadet for getting him maryanka.' 'he lies, the old devil!' said lukashka, angrily. 'she's not such a girl. if he does not look out i'll wallop that old devil's sides,' and he began his favourite song: 'from the village of izmaylov, from the master's favourite garden, once escaped a keen-eyed falcon. soon after him a huntsman came a-riding, and he beckoned to the falcon that had strayed, but the bright-eyed bird thus answered: "in gold cage you could not keep me, on your hand you could not hold me, so now i fly to blue seas far away. there a white swan i will kill, of sweet swan-flesh have my fill."' chapter xxviii the bethrothal was taking place in the cornet's hut. lukashka had returned to the village, but had not been to see olenin, and olenin had not gone to the betrothal though he had been invited. he was sad as he had never been since he settled in this cossack village. he had seen lukashka earlier in the evening and was worried by the question why lukashka was so cold towards him. olenin shut himself up in his hut and began writing in his diary as follows: 'many things have i pondered over lately and much have i changed,' wrote he, 'and i have come back to the copybook maxim: the one way to be happy is to love, to love self-denyingly, to love everybody and everything; to spread a web of love on all sides and to take all who come into it. in this way i caught vanyusha, daddy eroshka, lukashka, and maryanka.' as olenin was finishing this sentence daddy eroshka entered the room. eroshka was in the happiest frame of mind. a few evenings before this, olenin had gone to see him and had found him with a proud and happy face deftly skinning the carcass of a boar with a small knife in the yard. the dogs (lyam his pet among them) were lying close by watching what he was doing and gently wagging their tails. the little boys were respectfully looking at him through the fence and not even teasing him as was their wont. his women neighbours, who were as a rule not too gracious towards him, greeted him and brought him, one a jug of chikhir, another some clotted cream, and a third a little flour. the next day eroshka sat in his store-room all covered with blood, and distributed pounds of boar-flesh, taking in payment money from some and wine from others. his face clearly expressed, 'god has sent me luck. i have killed a boar, so now i am wanted.' consequently, he naturally began to drink, and had gone on for four days never leaving the village. besides which he had had something to drink at the betrothal. he came to olenin quite drunk: his face red, his beard tangled, but wearing a new beshmet trimmed with gold braid; and he brought with him a balalayka which he had obtained beyond the river. he had long promised olenin this treat, and felt in the mood for it, so that he was sorry to find olenin writing. 'write on, write on, my lad,' he whispered, as if he thought that a spirit sat between him and the paper and must not be frightened away, and he softly and silently sat down on the floor. when daddy eroshka was drunk his favourite position was on the floor. olenin looked round, ordered some wine to be brought, and continued to write. eroshka found it dull to drink by himself and he wished to talk. 'i've been to the betrothal at the cornet's. but there! they're shwine!--don't want them!--have come to you.' 'and where did you get your balalayka asked olenin, still writing. 'i've been beyond the river and got it there, brother mine,' he answered, also very quietly. 'i'm a master at it. tartar or cossack, squire or soldiers' songs, any kind you please.' olenin looked at him again, smiled, and went on writing. that smile emboldened the old man. 'come, leave off, my lad, leave off!' he said with sudden firmness. 'well, perhaps i will.' 'come, people have injured you but leave them alone, spit at them! come, what's the use of writing and writing, what's the good?' and he tried to mimic olenin by tapping the floor with his thick fingers, and then twisted his big face to express contempt. 'what's the good of writing quibbles. better have a spree and show you're a man!' no other conception of writing found place in his head except that of legal chicanery. olenin burst out laughing and so did eroshka. then, jumping up from the floor, the latter began to show off his skill on the balalayka and to sing tartar songs. 'why write, my good fellow! you'd better listen to what i'll sing to you. when you're dead you won't hear any more songs. make merry now!' first he sang a song of his own composing accompanied by a dance: 'ah, dee, dee, dee, dee, dee, dim, say where did they last see him? in a booth, at the fair, he was selling pins, there.' then he sang a song he had learnt from his former sergeant-major: 'deep i fell in love on monday, tuesday nothing did but sigh, wednesday i popped the question, thursday waited her reply. friday, late, it came at last, then all hope for me was past! saturday my life to take i determined like a man, but for my salvation's sake sunday morning changed my plan!' then he sang again: 'oh dee, dee, dee, dee, dee, dim, say where did they last see him?' and after that, winking, twitching his shoulders, and footing it to the tune, he sang: 'i will kiss you and embrace, ribbons red twine round you; and i'll call you little grace. oh, you little grace now do tell me, do you love me true?' and he became so excited that with a sudden dashing movement he started dancing around the room accompanying himself the while. songs like 'dee, dee, dee'--'gentlemen's songs'--he sang for olenin's benefit, but after drinking three more tumblers of chikhir he remembered old times and began singing real cossack and tartar songs. in the midst of one of his favourite songs his voice suddenly trembled and he ceased singing, and only continued strumming on the balalayka. 'oh, my dear friend!' he said. the peculiar sound of his voice made olenin look round. the old man was weeping. tears stood in his eyes and one tear was running down his cheek. 'you are gone, my young days, and will never come back!' he said, blubbering and halting. 'drink, why don't you drink!' he suddenly shouted with a deafening roar, without wiping away his tears. there was one tartar song that specially moved him. it had few words, but its charm lay in the sad refrain. 'ay day, dalalay!' eroshka translated the words of the song: 'a youth drove his sheep from the aoul to the mountains: the russians came and burnt the aoul, they killed all the men and took all the women into bondage. the youth returned from the mountains. where the aoul had stood was an empty space; his mother not there, nor his brothers, nor his house; one tree alone was left standing. the youth sat beneath the tree and wept. "alone like thee, alone am i left,'" and eroshka began singing: 'ay day, dalalay!' and the old man repeated several times this wailing, heart-rending refrain. when he had finished the refrain eroshka suddenly seized a gun that hung on the wall, rushed hurriedly out into the yard and fired off both barrels into the air. then again he began, more dolefully, his 'ay day, dalalay--ah, ah,' and ceased. olenin followed him into the porch and looked up into the starry sky in the direction where the shots had flashed. in the cornet's house there were lights and the sound of voices. in the yard girls were crowding round the porch and the windows, and running backwards and forwards between the hut and the outhouse. some cossacks rushed out of the hut and could not refrain from shouting, re-echoing the refrain of daddy eroshka's song and his shots. 'why are you not at the betrothal?' asked olenin. 'never mind them! never mind them!' muttered the old man, who had evidently been offended by something there. 'don't like them, i don't. oh, those people! come back into the hut! let them make merry by themselves and we'll make merry by ourselves.' olenin went in. 'and lukashka, is he happy? won't he come to see me?' he asked. 'what, lukashka? they've lied to him and said i am getting his girl for you,' whispered the old man. 'but what's the girl? she will be ours if we want her. give enough money--and she's ours. i'll fix it up for you. really!' 'no, daddy, money can do nothing if she does not love me. you'd better not talk like that!' 'we are not loved, you and i. we are forlorn,' said daddy eroshka suddenly, and again he began to cry. listening to the old man's talk olenin had drunk more than usual. 'so now my lukashka is happy,' thought he; yet he felt sad. the old man had drunk so much that evening that he fell down on the floor and vanyusha had to call soldiers in to help, and spat as they dragged the old man out. he was so angry with the old man for his bad behaviour that he did not even say a single french word. chapter xxix it was august. for days the sky had been cloudless, the sun scorched unbearably and from early morning the warm wind raised a whirl of hot sand from the sand-drifts and from the road, and bore it in the air through the reeds, the trees, and the village. the grass and the leaves on the trees were covered with dust, the roads and dried-up salt marshes were baked so hard that they rang when trodden on. the water had long since subsided in the terek and rapidly vanished and dried up in the ditches. the slimy banks of the pond near the village were trodden bare by the cattle and all day long you could hear the splashing of water and the shouting of girls and boys bathing. the sand-drifts and the reeds were already drying up in the steppes, and the cattle, lowing, ran into the fields in the day-time. the boars migrated into the distant reed-beds and to the hills beyond the terek. mosquitoes and gnats swarmed in thick clouds over the low lands and villages. the snow-peaks were hidden in grey mist. the air was rarefied and smoky. it was said that abreks had crossed the now shallow river and were prowling on this side of it. every night the sun set in a glowing red blaze. it was the busiest time of the year. the villagers all swarmed in the melon-fields and the vineyards. the vineyards thickly overgrown with twining verdure lay in cool, deep shade. everywhere between the broad translucent leaves, ripe, heavy, black clusters peeped out. along the dusty road from the vineyards the creaking carts moved slowly, heaped up with black grapes. clusters of them, crushed by the wheels, lay in the dirt. boys and girls in smocks stained with grape-juice, with grapes in their hands and mouths, ran after their mothers. on the road you continually came across tattered labourers with baskets of grapes on their powerful shoulders; cossack maidens, veiled with kerchiefs to their eyes, drove bullocks harnessed to carts laden high with grapes. soldiers who happened to meet these carts asked for grapes, and the maidens, clambering up without stopping their carts, would take an armful of grapes and drop them into the skirts of the soldiers' coats. in some homesteads they had already begun pressing the grapes; and the smell of the emptied skins filled the air. one saw the blood-red troughs in the pent-houses in the yards and nogay labourers with their trousers rolled up and their legs stained with the juice. grunting pigs gorged themselves with the empty skins and rolled about in them. the flat roofs of the outhouses were all spread over with the dark amber clusters drying in the sun. daws and magpies crowded round the roofs, picking the seeds and fluttering from one place to another. the fruits of the year's labour were being merrily gathered in, and this year the fruit was unusually fine and plentiful. in the shady green vineyards amid a sea of vines, laughter, songs, merriment, and the voices of women were to be heard on all sides, and glimpses of their bright-coloured garments could be seen. just at noon maryanka was sitting in their vineyard in the shade of a peach-tree, getting out the family dinner from under an unharnessed cart. opposite her, on a spread-out horse-cloth, sat the cornet (who had returned from the school) washing his hands by pouring water on them from a little jug. her little brother, who had just come straight out of the pond, stood wiping his face with his wide sleeves, and gazed anxiously at his sister and his mother and breathed deeply, awaiting his dinner. the old mother, with her sleeves rolled up over her strong sunburnt arms, was arranging grapes, dried fish, and clotted cream on a little low, circular tartar table. the cornet wiped his hands, took off his cap, crossed himself, and moved nearer to the table. the boy seized the jug and eagerly began to drink. the mother and daughter crossed their legs under them and sat down by the table. even in the shade it was intolerably hot. the air above the vineyard smelt unpleasant: the strong warm wind passing amid the branches brought no coolness, but only monotonously bent the tops of the pear, peach, and mulberry trees with which the vineyard was sprinkled. the cornet, having crossed himself once more, took a little jug of <i>chikhir</i> that stood behind him covered with a vine-leaf, and having had a drink from the mouth of the jug passed it to the old woman. he had nothing on over his shirt, which was unfastened at the neck and showed his shaggy muscular chest. his fine-featured cunning face looked cheerful; neither in his attitude nor in his words was his usual wiliness to be seen; he was cheerful and natural. 'shall we finish the bit beyond the shed to-night?' he asked, wiping his wet beard. 'we'll manage it,' replied his wife, 'if only the weather does not hinder us. the demkins have not half finished yet,' she added. 'only ustenka is at work there, wearing herself out.' 'what can you expect of them?' said the old man proudly. 'here, have a drink, maryanka dear!' said the old woman, passing the jug to the girl. 'god willing we'll have enough to pay for the wedding feast,' she added. 'that's not yet awhile,' said the cornet with a slight frown. the girl hung her head. 'why shouldn't we mention it?' said the old woman. 'the affair is settled, and the time is drawing near too.' 'don't make plans beforehand,' said the cornet. 'now we have the harvest to get in.' 'have you seen lukashka's new horse?' asked the old woman. 'that which dmitri andreich olenin gave him is gone -- he's exchanged it.' 'no, i have not; but i spoke with the servant to-day,' said the cornet, 'and he said his master has again received a thousand rubles.' 'rolling in riches, in short,' said the old woman. the whole family felt cheerful and contented. the work was progressing successfully. the grapes were more abundant and finer than they had expected. after dinner maryanka threw some grass to the oxen, folded her <i>beshmet</i> for a pillow, and lay down under the wagon on the juicy down-trodden grass. she had on only a red kerchief over her head and a faded blue print smock, yet she felt unbearably hot. her face was burning, and she did not know where to put her feet, her eyes were moist with sleepiness and weariness, her lips parted involuntarily, and her chest heaved heavily and deeply. the busy time of year had begun a fortnight ago and the continuous heavy labour had filled the girl's life. at dawn she jumped up, washed her face with cold water, wrapped herself in a shawl, and ran out barefoot to see to the cattle. then she hurriedly put on her shoes and her beshmet and, taking a small bundle of bread, she harnessed the bullocks and drove away to the vineyards for the whole day. there she cut the grapes and carried the baskets with only an hour's interval for rest, and in the evening she returned to the village, bright and not tired, dragging the bullocks by a rope or driving them with a long stick. after attending to the cattle, she took some sunflower seeds in the wide sleeve of her smock and went to the corner of the street to crack them and have some fun with the other girls. but as soon as it was dusk she returned home, and after having supper with her parents and her brother in the dark outhouse, she went into the hut, healthy and free from care, and climbed onto the oven, where half drowsing she listened to their lodger's conversation. as soon as he went away she would throw herself down on her bed and sleep soundly and quietly till morning. and so it went on day after day. she had not seen lukashka since the day of their betrothal, but calmly awaited the wedding. she had got used to their lodger and felt his intent looks with pleasure. chapter xxx although there was no escape from the heat and the mosquitoes swarmed in the cool shadow of the wagons, and her little brother tossing about beside her kept pushing her, maryanka having drawn her kerchief over her head was just falling asleep, when suddenly their neighbour ustenka came running towards her and, diving under the wagon, lay down beside her. 'sleep, girls, sleep!' said ustenka, making herself comfortable under the wagon. 'wait a bit,' she exclaimed, 'this won't do!' she jumped up, plucked some green branches, and stuck them through the wheels on both sides of the wagon and hung her beshmet over them. 'let me in,' she shouted to the little boy as she again crept under the wagon. 'is this the place for a cossack--with the girls? go away!' when alone under the wagon with her friend, ustenka suddenly put both her arms round her, and clinging close to her began kissing her cheeks and neck. 'darling, sweetheart,' she kept repeating, between bursts of shrill, clear laughter. 'why, you've learnt it from grandad,' said maryanka, struggling. 'stop it!' and they both broke into such peals of laughter that maryanka's mother shouted to them to be quiet. 'are you jealous?' asked ustenka in a whisper. 'what humbug! let me sleep. what have you come for?' but ustenka kept on, 'i say! but i wanted to tell you such a thing.' maryanka raised herself on her elbow and arranged the kerchief which had slipped off. 'well, what is it?' 'i know something about your lodger!' 'there's nothing to know,' said maryanka. 'oh, you rogue of a girl!' said ustenka, nudging her with her elbow and laughing. 'won't tell anything. does he come to you?' 'he does. what of that?' said maryanka with a sudden blush. 'now i'm a simple lass. i tell everybody. why should i pretend?' said ustenka, and her bright rosy face suddenly became pensive. 'whom do i hurt? i love him, that's all about it.' 'grandad, do you mean?' 'well, yes!' 'and the sin?' 'ah, maryanka! when is one to have a good time if not while one's still free? when i marry a cossack i shall bear children and shall have cares. there now, when you get married to lukashka not even a thought of joy will enter your head: children will come, and work!' 'well? some who are married live happily. it makes no difference!' maryanka replied quietly. 'do tell me just this once what has passed between you and lukishka?' 'what has passed? a match was proposed. father put it off for a year, but now it's been settled and they'll marry us in autumn.' 'but what did he say to you?' maryanka smiled. 'what should he say? he said he loved me. he kept asking me to come to the vineyards with him.' 'just see what pitch! but you didn't go, did you? and what a dare-devil he has become: the first among the braves. he makes merry out there in the army too! the other day our kirka came home; he says: "what a horse lukashka's got in exchange!" but all the same i expect he frets after you. and what else did he say?' 'must you know everything?' said maryanka laughing. 'one night he came to my window tipsy, and asked me to let him in.' 'and you didn't let him?' 'let him, indeed! once i have said a thing i keep to it firm as a rock,' answered maryanka seriously. 'a fine fellow! if he wanted her, no girl would refuse him.' 'well, let him go to the others,' replied maryanka proudly. 'you don't pity him?' 'i do pity him, but i'll have no nonsense. it is wrong.' ustenka suddenly dropped her head on her friend's breast, seized hold of her, and shook with smothered laughter. 'you silly fool!' she exclaimed, quite out of breath. 'you don't want to be happy,' and she began tickling maryanka. 'oh, leave off!' said maryanka, screaming and laughing. 'you've crushed lazutka.' 'hark at those young devils! quite frisky! not tired yet!' came the old woman's sleepy voice from the wagon. 'don't want happiness,' repeated ustenka in a whisper, insistently. 'but you are lucky, that you are! how they love you! you are so crusty, and yet they love you. ah, if i were in your place i'd soon turn the lodger's head! i noticed him when you were at our house. he was ready to eat you with his eyes. what things grandad has given me! and yours they say is the richest of the russians. his orderly says they have serfs of their own.' maryanka raised herself, and after thinking a moment, smiled. 'do you know what he once told me: the lodger i mean?' she said, biting a bit of grass. 'he said, "i'd like to be lukashka the cossack, or your brother lazutka--." what do you think he meant?' 'oh, just chattering what came into his head,' answered ustenka. 'what does mine not say! just as if he was possessed!' maryanka dropped her hand on her folded beshmet, threw her arm over ustenka's shoulder, and shut her eyes. 'he wanted to come and work in the vineyard to-day: father invited him,' she said, and after a short silence she fell asleep. chapter xxxi the sun had come out from behind the pear-tree that had shaded the wagon, and even through the branches that ustenka had fixed up it scorched the faces of the sleeping girls. maryanka woke up and began arranging the kerchief on her head. looking about her, beyond the pear-tree she noticed their lodger, who with his gun on his shoulder stood talking to her father. she nudged ustenka and smilingly pointed him out to her. 'i went yesterday and didn't find a single one,' olenin was saying as he looked about uneasily, not seeing maryanka through the branches. 'ah, you should go out there in that direction, go right as by compasses, there in a disused vineyard denominated as the waste, hares are always to be found,' said the cornet, having at once changed his manner of speech. 'a fine thing to go looking for hares in these busy times! you had better come and help us, and do some work with the girls,' the old woman said merrily. 'now then, girls, up with you!' she cried. maryanka and ustenka under the cart were whispering and could hardly restrain their laughter. since it had become known that olenin had given a horse worth fifty rubles to lukashka, his hosts had become more amiable and the cornet in particular saw with pleasure his daughter's growing intimacy with olenin. 'but i don't know how to do the work,' replied olenin, trying not to look through the green branches under the wagon where he had now noticed maryanka's blue smock and red kerchief. 'come, i'll give you some peaches,' said the old woman. 'it's only according to the ancient cossack hospitality. it's her old woman's silliness,' said the cornet, explaining and apparently correcting his wife's words. 'in russia, i expect, it's not so much peaches as pineapple jam and preserves you have been accustomed to eat at your pleasure.' 'so you say hares are to be found in the disused vineyard?' asked olenin. 'i will go there,' and throwing a hasty glance through the green branches he raised his cap and disappeared between the regular rows of green vines. the sun had already sunk behind the fence of the vineyards, and its broken rays glittered through the translucent leaves when olenin returned to his host's vineyard. the wind was falling and a cool freshness was beginning to spread around. by some instinct olenin recognized from afar maryanka's blue smock among the rows of vine, and, picking grapes on his way, he approached her. his highly excited dog also now and then seized a low-hanging cluster of grapes in his slobbering mouth. maryanka, her face flushed, her sleeves rolled up, and her kerchief down below her chin, was rapidly cutting the heavy clusters and laying them in a basket. without letting go of the vine she had hold of, she stopped to smile pleasantly at him and resumed her work. olenin drew near and threw his gun behind his back to have his hands free. 'where are your people? may god aid you! are you alone?' he meant to say but did not say, and only raised his cap in silence. he was ill at ease alone with maryanka, but as if purposely to torment himself he went up to her. 'you'll be shooting the women with your gun like that,' said maryanka. 'no, i shan't shoot them.' they were both silent. then after a pause she said: 'you should help me.' he took out his knife and began silently to cut off the clusters. he reached from under the leaves low down a thick bunch weighing about three pounds, the grapes of which grew so close that they flattened each other for want of space. he showed it to maryanka. 'must they all be cut? isn't this one too green?' 'give it here.' their hands touched. olenin took her hand, and she looked at him smiling. 'are you going to be married soon?' he asked. she did not answer, but turned away with a stern look. 'do you love lukashka?' 'what's that to you?' 'i envy him!' 'very likely!' 'no really. you are so beautiful!' and he suddenly felt terribly ashamed of having said it, so commonplace did the words seem to him. he flushed, lost control of himself, and seized both her hands. 'whatever i am, i'm not for you. why do you make fun of me?' replied maryanka, but her look showed how certainly she knew he was not making fun. 'making fun? if you only knew how i--' the words sounded still more commonplace, they accorded still less with what he felt, but yet he continued, 'i don't know what i would not do for you--' 'leave me alone, you pitch!' but her face, her shining eyes, her swelling bosom, her shapely legs, said something quite different. it seemed to him that she understood how petty were all things he had said, but that she was superior to such considerations. it seemed to him she had long known all he wished and was not able to tell her, but wanted to hear how he would say it. 'and how can she help knowing,' he thought, 'since i only want to tell her all that she herself is? but she does not wish to under-stand, does not wish to reply.' 'hallo!' suddenly came ustenka's high voice from behind the vine at no great distance, followed by her shrill laugh. 'come and help me, dmitri andreich. i am all alone,' she cried, thrusting her round, naive little face through the vines. olenin did not answer nor move from his place. maryanka went on cutting and continually looked up at olenin. he was about to say something, but stopped, shrugged his shoulders and, having jerked up his gun, walked out of the vineyard with rapid strides. chapter xxxii he stopped once or twice, listening to the ringing laughter of maryanka and ustenka who, having come together, were shouting something. olenin spent the whole evening hunting in the forest and returned home at dusk without having killed anything. when crossing the road he noticed her open the door of the outhouse, and her blue smock showed through it. he called to vanyusha very loud so as to let her know that he was back, and then sat down in the porch in his usual place. his hosts now returned from the vineyard; they came out of the outhouse and into their hut, but did not ask of the latch and knocked. the floor hardly creaked under the bare cautious footsteps which approached the door. the latch clicked, the door creaked, and he noticed a faint smell of marjoram and pumpkin, and maryanka's whole figure appeared in the doorway. he saw her only for an instant in the moonlight. she slammed the door and, muttering something, ran lightly back again. olenin began rapping softly but nothing responded. he ran to the window and listened. suddenly he was startled by a shrill, squeaky man's voice. 'fine!' exclaimed a rather small young cossack in a white cap, coming across the yard close to olenin. 'i saw ... fine!' olenin recognized nazarka, and was silent, not knowing what to do or say. 'fine! i'll go and tell them at the office, and i'll tell her father! that's a fine cornet's daughter! one's not enough for her.' 'what do you want of me, what are you after?' uttered olenin. 'nothing; only i'll tell them at the office.' nazarka spoke very loud, and evidently did so intentionally, adding: 'just see what a clever cadet!' olenin trembled and grew pale. 'come here, here!' he seized the cossack firmly by the arm and drew him towards his hut. 'nothing happened, she did not let me in, and i too mean no harm. she is an honest girl--' 'eh, discuss--' 'yes, but all the same i'll give you something now. wait a bit!' nazarka said nothing. olenin ran into his hut and brought out ten rubles, which he gave to the cossack. 'nothing happened, but still i was to blame, so i give this!--only for god's sake don't let anyone know, for nothing happened...' 'i wish you joy,' said nazarka laughing, and went away. nazarka had come to the village that night at lukashka's bidding to find a place to hide a stolen horse, and now, passing by on his way home, had heard the sound of footsteps. when he returned next morning to his company he bragged to his chum, and told him how cleverly he had got ten rubles. next morning olenin met his hosts and they knew nothing about the events of the night. he did not speak to maryanka, and she only laughed a little when she looked at him. next night he also passed without sleep, vainly wandering about the yard. the day after he purposely spent shooting, and in the evening he went to see beletski to escape from his own thoughts. he was afraid of himself, and promised himself not to go to his hosts' hut any more. that night he was roused by the sergeant-major. his company was ordered to start at once on a raid. olenin was glad this had happened, and thought he would not again return to the village. the raid lasted four days. the commander, who was a relative of olenin's, wished to see him and offered to let him remain with the staff, but this olenin declined. he found that he could not live away from the village, and asked to be allowed to return to it. for having taken part in the raid he received a soldier's cross, which he had formerly greatly desired. now he was quite indifferent about it, and even more indifferent about his promotion, the order for which had still not arrived. accompanied by vanyusha he rode back to the cordon without any accident several hours in advance of the rest of the company. he spent the whole evening in his porch watching maryanka, and he again walked about the yard, without aim or thought, all night. chapter xxxiii it was late when he awoke the next day. his hosts were no longer in. he did not go shooting, but now took up a book, and now went out into the porch, and now again re-entered the hut and lay down on the bed. vanyusha thought he was ill. towards evening olenin got up, resolutely began writing, and wrote on till late at night. he wrote a letter, but did not post it because he felt that no one would have understood what he wanted to say, and besides it was not necessary that anyone but himself should understand it. this is what he wrote: 'i receive letters of condolence from russia. they are afraid that i shall perish, buried in these wilds. they say about me: "he will become coarse; he will be behind the times in everything; he will take to drink, and who knows but that he may marry a cossack girl." it was not for nothing, they say, that ermolov declared: "anyone serving in the caucasus for ten years either becomes a confirmed drunkard or marries a loose woman." how terrible! indeed it won't do for me to ruin myself when i might have the great happiness of even becoming the countess b----'s husband, or a court chamberlain, or a marechal de noblesse of my district. oh, how repulsive and pitiable you all seem to me! you do not know what happiness is and what life is! one must taste life once in all its natural beauty, must see and understand what i see every day before me--those eternally unapproachable snowy peaks, and a majestic woman in that primitive beauty in which the first woman must have come from her creator's hands--and then it becomes clear who is ruining himself and who is living truly or falsely--you or i. if you only knew how despicable and pitiable you, in your delusions, seem to me! when i picture to myself--in place of my hut, my forests, and my love--those drawing-rooms, those women with their pomatum-greased hair eked out with false curls, those unnaturally grimacing lips, those hidden, feeble, distorted limbs, and that chatter of obligatory drawing-room conversation which has no right to the name--i feel unendurably revolted. i then see before me those obtuse faces, those rich eligible girls whose looks seem to say: "it's all right, you may come near though i am rich and eligible"--and that arranging and rearranging of seats, that shameless match-making and that eternal tittle-tattle and pretence; those rules--with whom to shake hands, to whom only to nod, with whom to converse (and all this done deliberately with a conviction of its inevitability), that continual ennui in the blood passing on from generation to generation. try to understand or believe just this one thing: you need only see and comprehend what truth and beauty are, and all that you now say and think and all your wishes for me and for yourselves will fly to atoms! happiness is being with nature, seeing her, and conversing with her. "he may even (god forbid) marry a common cossack girl, and be quite lost socially" i can imagine them saying of me with sincere pity! yet the one thing i desire is to be quite "lost" in your sense of the word. i wish to marry a cossack girl, and dare not because it would be a height of happiness of which i am unworthy. 'three months have passed since i first saw the cossack girl, maryanka. the views and prejudices of the world i had left were still fresh in me. i did not then believe that i could love that woman. i delighted in her beauty just as i delighted in the beauty of the mountains and the sky, nor could i help delighting in her, for she is as beautiful as they. i found that the sight of her beauty had become a necessity of my life and i began asking myself whether i did not love her. but i could find nothing within myself at all like love as i had imagined it to be. mine was not the restlessness of loneliness and desire for marriage, nor was it platonic, still less a carnal love such as i have experienced. i needed only to see her, to hear her, to know that she was near--and if i was not happy, i was at peace. 'after an evening gathering at which i met her and touched her, i felt that between that woman and myself there existed an indissoluble though unacknowledged bond against which i could not struggle, yet i did struggle. i asked myself: "is it possible to love a woman who will never understand the profoundest interests of my life? is it possible to love a woman simply for her beauty, to love the statue of a woman?" but i was already in love with her, though i did not yet trust to my feelings. 'after that evening when i first spoke to her our relations changed. before that she had been to me an extraneous but majestic object of external nature: but since then she has become a human being. i began to meet her, to talk to her, and sometimes to go to work for her father and to spend whole evenings with them, and in this intimate intercourse she remained still in my eyes just as pure, inaccessible, and majestic. she always responded with equal calm, pride, and cheerful equanimity. sometimes she was friendly, but generally her every look, every word, and every movement expressed equanimity--not contemptuous, but crushing and bewitching. every day with a feigned smile on my lips i tried to play a part, and with torments of passion and desire in my heart i spoke banteringly to her. she saw that i was dissembling, but looked straight at me cheerfully and simply. this position became unbearable. i wished not to deceive her but to tell her all i thought and felt. i was extremely agitated. we were in the vineyard when i began to tell her of my love, in words i am now ashamed to remember. i am ashamed because i ought not to have dared to speak so to her because she stood far above such words and above the feeling they were meant to express. i said no more, but from that day my position has been intolerable. i did not wish to demean myself by continuing our former flippant relations, and at the same time i felt that i had not yet reached the level of straight and simple relations with her. i asked myself despairingly, "what am i to do?" in foolish dreams i imagined her now as my mistress and now as my wife, but rejected both ideas with disgust. to make her a wanton woman would be dreadful. it would be murder. to turn her into a fine lady, the wife of dmitri andreich olenin, like a cossack woman here who is married to one of our officers, would be still worse. now could i turn cossack like lukashka, and steal horses, get drunk on chikhir, sing rollicking songs, kill people, and when drunk climb in at her window for the night without a thought of who and what i am, it would be different: then we might understand one another and i might be happy. 'i tried to throw myself into that kind of life but was still more conscious of my own weakness and artificiality. i cannot forget myself and my complex, distorted past, and my future appears to me still more hopeless. every day i have before me the distant snowy mountains and this majestic, happy woman. but not for me is the only happiness possible in the world; i cannot have this woman! what is most terrible and yet sweetest in my condition is that i feel that i understand her but that she will never understand me; not because she is inferior: on the contrary she ought not to understand me. she is happy, she is like nature: consistent, calm, and self-contained; and i, a weak distorted being, want her to understand my deformity and my torments! i have not slept at night, but have aimlessly passed under her windows not rendering account to myself of what was happening to me. on the th our company started on a raid, and i spent three days away from the village. i was sad and apathetic, the usual songs, cards, drinking-bouts, and talk of rewards in the regiment, were more repulsive to me than usual. yesterday i returned home and saw her, my hut. daddy eroshka, and the snowy mountains, from my porch, and was seized by such a strong, new feeling of joy that i understood it all. i love this woman; i feel real love for the first and only time in my life. i know what has befallen me. i do not fear to be degraded by this feeling, i am not ashamed of my love, i am proud of it. it is not my fault that i love. it has come about against my will. i tried to escape from my love by self-renunciation, and tried to devise a joy in the cossack lukashka's and maryanka's love, but thereby only stirred up my own love and jealousy. this is not the ideal, the so-called exalted love which i have known before; not that sort of attachment in which you admire your own love and feel that the source of your emotion is within yourself and do everything yourself. i have felt that too. it is still less a desire for enjoyment: it is something different. perhaps in her i love nature: the personification of all that is beautiful in nature; but yet i am not acting by my own will, but some elemental force loves through me; the whole of god's world, all nature, presses this love into my soul and says, "love her." i love her not with my mind or my imagination, but with my whole being. loving her i feel myself to be an integral part of all god's joyous world. i wrote before about the new convictions to which my solitary life had brought me, but no one knows with what labour they shaped themselves within me and with what joy i realized them and saw a new way of life opening out before me; nothing was dearer to me than those convictions... well! ... love has come and neither they nor any regrets for them remain! it is even difficult for me to believe that i could prize such a one-sided, cold, and abstract state of mind. beauty came and scattered to the winds all that laborious inward toil, and no regret remains for what has vanished! self-renunciation is all nonsense and absurdity! that is pride, a refuge from well-merited unhappiness, and salvation from the envy of others' happiness: "live for others, and do good!"--why? when in my soul there is only love for myself and the desire to love her and to live her life with her? not for others, not for lukashka, i now desire happiness. i do not now love those others. formerly i should have told myself that this is wrong. i should have tormented myself with the questions: what will become of her, of me, and of lukashka? now i don't care. i do not live my own life, there is something stronger than me which directs me. i suffer; but formerly i was dead and only now do i live. today i will go to their house and tell her everything.' chapter xxxiv late that evening, after writing this letter, olenin went to his hosts' hut. the old woman was sitting on a bench behind the oven unwinding cocoons. maryanka with her head uncovered sat sewing by the light of a candle. on seeing olenin she jumped up, took her kerchief and stepped to the oven. 'maryanka dear,' said her mother, 'won't you sit here with me a bit?' 'no, i'm bareheaded,' she replied, and sprang up on the oven. olenin could only see a knee, and one of her shapely legs hanging down from the oven. he treated the old woman to tea. she treated her guest to clotted cream which she sent maryanka to fetch. but having put a plateful on the table maryanka again sprang on the oven from whence olenin felt her eyes upon him. they talked about household matters. granny ulitka became animated and went into raptures of hospitality. she brought olenin preserved grapes and a grape tart and some of her best wine, and pressed him to eat and drink with the rough yet proud hospitality of country folk, only found among those who produce their bread by the labour of their own hands. the old woman, who had at first struck olenin so much by her rudeness, now often touched him by her simple tenderness towards her daughter. 'yes, we need not offend the lord by grumbling! we have enough of everything, thank god. we have pressed sufficient chikhir and have preserved and shall sell three or four barrels of grapes and have enough left to drink. don't be in a hurry to leave us. we will make merry together at the wedding.' 'and when is the wedding to be?' asked olenin, feeling his blood suddenly rush to his face while his heart beat irregularly and painfully. he heard a movement on the oven and the sound of seeds being cracked. 'well, you know, it ought to be next week. we are quite ready,' replied the old woman, as simply and quietly as though olenin did not exist. 'i have prepared and have procured everything for maryanka. we will give her away properly. only there's one thing not quite right. our lukashka has been running rather wild. he has been too much on the spree! he's up to tricks! the other day a cossack came here from his company and said he had been to nogay.' 'he must mind he does not get caught,' said olenin. 'yes, that's what i tell him. "mind, lukashka, don't you get into mischief. well, of course, a young fellow naturally wants to cut a dash. but there's a time for everything. well, you've captured or stolen something and killed an abrek! well, you're a fine fellow! but now you should live quietly for a bit, or else there'll be trouble."' 'yes, i saw him a time or two in the division, he was always merry-making. he has sold another horse,' said olenin, and glanced towards the oven. a pair of large, dark, and hostile eyes glittered as they gazed severely at him. he became ashamed of what he had said. 'what of it? he does no one any harm,' suddenly remarked maryanka. 'he makes merry with his own money,' and lowering her legs she jumped down from the oven and went out banging the door. olenin followed her with his eyes as long as she was in the hut, and then looked at the door and waited, understanding nothing of what granny ulitka was telling him. a few minutes later some visitors arrived: an old man, granny ulitka's brother, with daddy eroshka, and following them came maryanka and ustenka. 'good evening,' squeaked ustenka. 'still on holiday?' she added, turning to olenin. 'yes, still on holiday,' he replied, and felt, he did not know why, ashamed and ill at ease. he wished to go away but could not. it also seemed to him impossible to remain silent. the old man helped him by asking for a drink, and they had a drink. olenin drank with eroshka, with the other cossack, and again with eroshka, and the more he drank the heavier was his heart. but the two old men grew merry. the girls climbed onto the oven, where they sat whispering and looking at the men, who drank till it was late. olenin did not talk, but drank more than the others. the cossacks were shouting. the old woman would not let them have any more chikhir, and at last turned them out. the girls laughed at daddy eroshka, and it was past ten when they all went out into the porch. the old men invited themselves to finish their merry-making at olenin's. ustenka ran off home and eroshka led the old cossack to vanyusha. the old woman went out to tidy up the shed. maryanka remained alone in the hut. olenin felt fresh and joyous, as if he had only just woke up. he noticed everything, and having let the old men pass ahead he turned back to the hut where maryanka was preparing for bed. he went up to her and wished to say something, but his voice broke. she moved away from him, sat down cross-legged on her bed in the corner, and looked at him silently with wild and frightened eyes. she was evidently afraid of him. olenin felt this. he felt sorry and ashamed of himself, and at the same time proud and pleased that he aroused even that feeling in her. 'maryanka!' he said. 'will you never take pity on me? i can't tell you how i love you.' she moved still farther away. 'just hear how the wine is speaking! ... you'll get nothing from me!' 'no, it is not the wine. don't marry lukashka. i will marry you.' ('what am i saying,' he thought as he uttered these words. 'shall i be able to say the same to-morrow?' 'yes, i shall, i am sure i shall, and i will repeat them now,' replied an inner voice.) 'will you marry me?' she looked at him seriously and her fear seemed to have passed. 'maryanka, i shall go out of my mind! i am not myself. i will do whatever you command,' and madly tender words came from his lips of their own accord. 'now then, what are you drivelling about?' she interrupted, suddenly seizing the arm he was stretching towards her. she did not push his arm away but pressed it firmly with her strong hard fingers. 'do gentlemen marry cossack girls? go away!' 'but will you? everything...' 'and what shall we do with lukashka?' said she, laughing. he snatched away the arm she was holding and firmly embraced her young body, but she sprang away like a fawn and ran barefoot into the porch: olenin came to his senses and was terrified at himself. he again felt himself inexpressibly vile compared to her, yet not repenting for an instant of what he had said he went home, and without even glancing at the old men who were drinking in his room he lay down and fell asleep more soundly than he had done for a long time. chapter xxxv the next day was a holiday. in the evening all the villagers, their holiday clothes shining in the sunset, were out in the street. that season more wine than usual had been produced, and the people were now free from their labours. in a month the cossacks were to start on a campaign and in many families preparations were being made for weddings. most of the people were standing in the square in front of the cossack government office and near the two shops, in one of which cakes and pumpkin seeds were sold, in the other kerchiefs and cotton prints. on the earth-embankment of the office-building sat or stood the old men in sober grey, or black coats without gold trimmings or any kind of ornament. they conversed among themselves quietly in measured tones, about the harvest, about the young folk, about village affairs, and about old times, looking with dignified equanimity at the younger generation. passing by them, the women and girls stopped and bent their heads. the young cossacks respectfully slackened their pace and raised their caps, holding them for a while over their heads. the old men then stopped speaking. some of them watched the passers-by severely, others kindly, and in their turn slowly took off their caps and put them on again. the cossack girls had not yet started dancing their khorovods, but having gathered in groups, in their bright coloured beshmets with white kerchiefs on their heads pulled down to their eyes, they sat either on the ground or on the earth-banks about the huts sheltered from the oblique rays of the sun, and laughed and chattered in their ringing voices. little boys and girls playing in the square sent their balls high up into the clear sky, and ran about squealing and shouting. the half-grown girls had started dancing their khorovods, and were timidly singing in their thin shrill voices. clerks, lads not in the service, or home for the holiday, bright-faced and wearing smart white or new red circassian gold-trimmed coats, went about arm in arm in twos or threes from one group of women or girls to another, and stopped to joke and chat with the cossack girls. the armenian shopkeeper, in a gold-trimmed coat of fine blue cloth, stood at the open door through which piles of folded bright-coloured kerchiefs were visible and, conscious of his own importance and with the pride of an oriental tradesman, waited for customers. two red-bearded, barefooted chechens, who had come from beyond the terek to see the fete, sat on their heels outside the house of a friend, negligently smoking their little pipes and occasionally spitting, watching the villagers and exchanging remarks with one another in their rapid guttural speech. occasionally a workaday-looking soldier in an old overcoat passed across the square among the bright-clad girls. here and there the songs of tipsy cossacks who were merry-making could already be heard. all the huts were closed; the porches had been scrubbed clean the day before. even the old women were out in the street, which was everywhere sprinkled with pumpkin and melon seed-shells. the air was warm and still, the sky deep and clear. beyond the roofs the dead-white mountain range, which seemed very near, was turning rosy in the glow of the evening sun. now and then from the other side of the river came the distant roar of a cannon, but above the village, mingling with one another, floated all sorts of merry holiday sounds. olenin had been pacing the yard all that morning hoping to see maryanka. but she, having put on holiday clothes, went to mass at the chapel and afterwards sat with the other girls on an earth-embankment cracking seeds; sometimes again, together with her companions, she ran home, and each time gave the lodger a bright and kindly look. olenin felt afraid to address her playfully or in the presence of others. he wished to finish telling her what he had begun to say the night before, and to get her to give him a definite answer. he waited for another moment like that of yesterday evening, but the moment did not come, and he felt that he could not remain any longer in this uncertainty. she went out into the street again, and after waiting awhile he too went out and without knowing where he was going he followed her. he passed by the corner where she was sitting in her shining blue satin beshmet, and with an aching heart he heard behind him the girls laughing. beletski's hut looked out onto the square. as olenin was passing it he heard beletski's voice calling to him, 'come in,' and in he went. after a short talk they both sat down by the window and were soon joined by eroshka, who entered dressed in a new beshmet and sat down on the floor beside them. 'there, that's the aristocratic party,' said beletski, pointing with his cigarette to a brightly coloured group at the corner. 'mine is there too. do you see her? in red. that's a new beshmet. why don't you start the khorovod?' he shouted, leaning out of the window. 'wait a bit, and then when it grows dark let us go too. then we will invite them to ustenka's. we must arrange a ball for them!' 'and i will come to ustenka's,' said olenin in a decided tone. 'will maryanka be there?' 'yes, she'll be there. do come!' said beletski, without the least surprise. 'but isn't it a pretty picture?' he added, pointing to the motley crowds. 'yes, very!' olenin assented, trying to appear indifferent. 'holidays of this kind,' he added, 'always make me wonder why all these people should suddenly be contented and jolly. to-day for instance, just because it happens to be the fifteenth of the month, everything is festive. eyes and faces and voices and movements and garments, and the air and the sun, are all in a holiday mood. and we no longer have any holidays!' 'yes,' said beletski, who did not like such reflections. 'and why are you not drinking, old fellow?' he said, turning to eroshka. eroshka winked at olenin, pointing to beletski. 'eh, he's a proud one that kunak of yours,' he said. beletski raised his glass. allah birdy' he said, emptying it. (allah birdy, 'god has given!'--the usual greeting of caucasians when drinking together.) 'sau bul' ('your health'), answered eroshka smiling, and emptied his glass. 'speaking of holidays!' he said, turning to olenin as he rose and looked out of the window, 'what sort of holiday is that! you should have seen them make merry in the old days! the women used to come out in their gold--trimmed sarafans. two rows of gold coins hanging round their necks and gold-cloth diadems on their heads, and when they passed they made a noise, "flu, flu," with their dresses. every woman looked like a princess. sometimes they'd come out, a whole herd of them, and begin singing songs so that the air seemed to rumble, and they went on making merry all night. and the cossacks would roll out a barrel into the yards and sit down and drink till break of day, or they would go hand-in-hand sweeping the village. whoever they met they seized and took along with them, and went from house to house. sometimes they used to make merry for three days on end. father used to come home--i still remember it--quite red and swollen, without a cap, having lost everything: he'd come and lie down. mother knew what to do: she would bring him some fresh caviar and a little chikhir to sober him up, and would herself run about in the village looking for his cap. then he'd sleep for two days! that's the sort of fellows they were then! but now what are they?' 'well, and the girls in the sarafans, did they make merry all by themselves?' asked beletski. 'yes, they did! sometimes cossacks would come on foot or on horse and say, "let's break up the khorovods," and they'd go, but the girls would take up cudgels. carnival week, some young fellow would come galloping up, and they'd cudgel his horse and cudgel him too. but he'd break through, seize the one he loved, and carry her off. and his sweetheart would love him to his heart's content! yes, the girls in those days, they were regular queens!' chapter xxxvi just then two men rode out of the side street into the square. one of them was nazarka. the other, lukashka, sat slightly sideways on his well-fed bay kabarda horse which stepped lightly over the hard road jerking its beautiful head with its fine glossy mane. the well-adjusted gun in its cover, the pistol at his back, and the cloak rolled up behind his saddle showed that lukashka had not come from a peaceful place or from one near by. the smart way in which he sat a little sideways on his horse, the careless motion with which he touched the horse under its belly with his whip, and especially his half-closed black eyes, glistening as he looked proudly around him, all expressed the conscious strength and self-confidence of youth. 'ever seen as fine a lad?' his eyes, looking from side to side, seemed to say. the elegant horse with its silver ornaments and trappings, the weapons, and the handsome cossack himself attracted the attention of everyone in the square. nazarka, lean and short, was much less well dressed. as he rode past the old men, lukashka paused and raised his curly white sheepskin cap above his closely cropped black head. 'well, have you carried off many nogay horses?' asked a lean old man with a frowning, lowering look. 'have you counted them, grandad, that you ask?' replied lukashka, turning away. 'that's all very well, but you need not take my lad along with you,' the old man muttered with a still darker frown. 'just see the old devil, he knows everything,' muttered lukashka to himself, and a worried expression came over his face; but then, noticing a corner where a number of cossack girls were standing, he turned his horse towards them. 'good evening, girls!' he shouted in his powerful, resonant voice, suddenly checking his horse. 'you've grown old without me, you witches!' and he laughed. 'good evening, lukashka! good evening, laddie!' the merry voices answered. 'have you brought much money? buy some sweets for the girls! ... have you come for long? true enough, it's long since we saw you....' 'nazarka and i have just flown across to make a night of it,' replied lukashka, raising his whip and riding straight at the girls. 'why, maryanka has quite forgotten you,' said ustenka, nudging maryanka with her elbow and breaking into a shrill laugh. maryanka moved away from the horse and throwing back her head calmly looked at the cossack with her large sparkling eyes. 'true enough, you have not been home for a long time! why are you trampling us under your horse?' she remarked dryly, and turned away. lukashka had appeared particularly merry. his face shone with audacity and joy. obviously staggered by maryanka's cold reply he suddenly knitted his brow. 'step up on my stirrup and i'll carry you away to the mountains. mammy!' he suddenly exclaimed, and as if to disperse his dark thoughts he caracoled among the girls. stooping down towards maryanka, he said, 'i'll kiss, oh, how i'll kiss you! ...' maryanka's eyes met his and she suddenly blushed and stepped back. 'oh, bother you! you'll crush my feet,' she said, and bending her head looked at her well-shaped feet in their tightly fitting light blue stockings with clocks and her new red slippers trimmed with narrow silver braid. lukashka turned towards ustenka, and maryanka sat down next to a woman with a baby in her arms. the baby stretched his plump little hands towards the girl and seized a necklace string that hung down onto her blue beshmet. maryanka bent towards the child and glanced at lukashka from the corner of her eyes. lukashka just then was getting out from under his coat, from the pocket of his black beshmet, a bundle of sweetmeats and seeds. 'there, i give them to all of you,' he said, handing the bundle to ustenka and smiling at maryanka. a confused expression again appeared on the girl's face. it was as though a mist gathered over her beautiful eyes. she drew her kerchief down below her lips, and leaning her head over the fair-skinned face of the baby that still held her by her coin necklace she suddenly began to kiss it greedily. the baby pressed his little hands against the girl's high breasts, and opening his toothless mouth screamed loudly. "you're smothering the boy!" said the little one's mother, taking him away; and she unfastened her beshmet to give him the breast. "you'd better have a chat with the young fellow." "i'll only go and put up my horse and then nazarka and i will come back; we'll make merry all night," said lukashka, touching his horse with his whip and riding away from the girls. turning into a side street, he and nazarka rode up to two huts that stood side by side. "here we are all right, old fellow! be quick and come soon!" called lukashka to his comrade, dismounting in front of one of the huts; then he carefully led his horse in at the gate of the wattle fence of his own home. "how d'you do, stepka?" he said to his dumb sister, who, smartly dressed like the others, came in from the street to take his horse; and he made signs to her to take the horse to the hay, but not to unsaddle it. the dumb girl made her usual humming noise, smacked her lips as she pointed to the horse and kissed it on the nose, as much as to say that she loved it and that it was a fine horse. "how d'you do. mother? how is it that you have not gone out yet?" shouted lukashka, holding his gun in place as he mounted the steps of the porch. his old mother opened the door. "dear me! i never expected, never thought, you'd come," said the old woman. "why, kirka said you wouldn't be here." "go and bring some chikhir, mother. nazarka is coming here and we will celebrate the feast day." "directly, lukashka, directly!" answered the old woman. "our women are making merry. i expect our dumb one has gone too." she took her keys and hurriedly went to the outhouse. nazarka, after putting up his horse and taking the gun off his shoulder, returned to lukashka's house and went in. chapter xxxvii 'your health!' said lukashka, taking from his mother's hands a cup filled to the brim with chikhir and carefully raising it to his bowed head. 'a bad business!' said nazarka. 'you heard how daddy burlak said, "have you stolen many horses?" he seems to know!' 'a regular wizard!' lukashka replied shortly. 'but what of it!' he added, tossing his head. 'they are across the river by now. go and find them!' 'still it's a bad lookout.' 'what's a bad lookout? go and take some chikhir to him to-morrow and nothing will come of it. now let's make merry. drink!' shouted lukashka, just in the tone in which old eroshka uttered the word. 'we'll go out into the street and make merry with the girls. you go and get some honey; or no, i'll send our dumb wench. we'll make merry till morning.' nazarka smiled. 'are we stopping here long?' he asked. till we've had a bit of fun. run and get some vodka. here's the money.' nazarka ran off obediently to get the vodka from yamka's. daddy eroshka and ergushov, like birds of prey, scenting where the merry-making was going on, tumbled into the hut one after the other, both tipsy. 'bring us another half-pail,' shouted lukashka to his mother, by way of reply to their greeting. 'now then, tell us where did you steal them, you devil?' shouted eroshka. 'fine fellow, i'm fond of you!' 'fond indeed...' answered lukashka laughing, 'carrying sweets from cadets to lasses! eh, you old...' 'that's not true, not true! ... oh, mark,' and the old man burst out laughing. 'and how that devil begged me. "go," he said, "and arrange it." he offered me a gun! but no. i'd have managed it, but i feel for you. now tell us where have you been?' and the old man began speaking in tartar. lukashka answered him promptly. ergushov, who did not know much tartar, only occasionally put in a word in russian: 'what i say is he's driven away the horses. i know it for a fact,' he chimed in. 'girey and i went together.' (his speaking of girey khan as 'girey' was, to the cossack mind, evidence of his boldness.) 'just beyond the river he kept bragging that he knew the whole of the steppe and would lead the way straight, but we rode on and the night was dark, and my girey lost his way and began wandering in a circle without getting anywhere: couldn't find the village, and there we were. we must have gone too much to the right. i believe we wandered about well--nigh till midnight. then, thank goodness, we heard dogs howling.' 'fools!' said daddy eroshka. 'there now, we too used to lose our way in the steppe. (who the devil can follow it?) but i used to ride up a hillock and start howling like the wolves, like this!' he placed his hands before his mouth, and howled like a pack of wolves, all on one note. 'the dogs would answer at once ... well, go on--so you found them?' 'we soon led them away! nazarka was nearly caught by some nogay women, he was!' 'caught indeed,' nazarka, who had just come back, said in an injured tone. 'we rode off again, and again girey lost his way and almost landed us among the sand-drifts. we thought we were just getting to the terek but we were riding away from it all the time!' 'you should have steered by the stars,' said daddy eroshka. 'that's what i say,' interjected ergushov, 'yes, steer when all is black; i tried and tried all about... and at last i put the bridle on one of the mares and let my own horse go free--thinking he'll lead us out, and what do you think! he just gave a snort or two with his nose to the ground, galloped ahead, and led us straight to our village. thank goodness! it was getting quite light. we barely had time to hide them in the forest. nagim came across the river and took them away.' ergushov shook his head. 'it's just what i said. smart. did you get much for them?' 'it's all here,' said lukashka, slapping his pocket. just then his mother came into the room, and lukashka did not finish what he was saying. 'drink!' he shouted. 'we too, girich and i, rode out late one night...' began eroshka. 'oh bother, we'll never hear the end of you!' said lukashka. 'i am going.' and having emptied his cup and tightened the strap of his belt he went out. chapter xxxviii it was already dark when lukashka went out into the street. the autumn night was fresh and calm. the full golden moon floated up behind the tall dark poplars that grew on one side of the square. from the chimneys of the outhouses smoke rose and spread above the village, mingling with the mist. here and there lights shone through the windows, and the air was laden with the smell of kisyak, grape-pulp, and mist. the sounds of voices, laughter, songs, and the cracking of seeds mingled just as they had done in the daytime, but were now more distinct. clusters of white kerchiefs and caps gleamed through the darkness near the houses and by the fences. in the square, before the shop door which was lit up and open, the black and white figures of cossack men and maids showed through the darkness, and one heard from afar their loud songs and laughter and talk. the girls, hand in hand, went round and round in a circle stepping lightly in the dusty square. a skinny girl, the plainest of them all, set the tune: 'from beyond the wood, from the forest dark, from the garden green and the shady park, there came out one day two young lads so gay. young bachelors, hey! brave and smart were they! and they walked and walked, then stood still, each man, and they talked and soon to dispute began! then a maid came out; as she came along, said, "to one of you i shall soon belong!" 'twas the fair-faced lad got the maiden fair, yes, the fair-faced lad with the golden hair! her right hand so white in his own took he, and he led her round for his mates to see! and said, "have you ever in all your life, met a lass as fair as my sweet little wife?"' the old women stood round listening to the songs. the little boys and girls ran about chasing one another in the dark. the men stood by, catching at the girls as the latter moved round, and sometimes breaking the ring and entering it. on the dark side of the doorway stood beletski and olenin, in their circassian coats and sheepskin caps, and talked together in a style of speech unlike that of the cossacks, in low but distinct tones, conscious that they were attracting attention. next to one another in the khorovod circle moved plump little ustenka in her red beshmet and the stately maryanka in her new smock and beshmet. olenin and beletski were discussing how to snatch ustenka and maryanka out of the ring. beletski thought that olenin wished only to amuse himself, but olenin was expecting his fate to be decided. he wanted at any cost to see maryanka alone that very day and to tell her everything, and ask her whether she could and would be his wife. although that question had long been answered in the negative in his own mind, he hoped he would be able to tell her all he felt, and that she would understand him. 'why did you not tell me sooner?' said beletski. 'i would have got ustenka to arrange it for you. you are such a queer fellow! ...' 'what's to be done! ... some day, very soon, i'll tell you all about it. only now, for heaven's sake, arrange so that she should come to ustenka's.' 'all right, that's easily done! well, maryanka, will you belong to the "fair-faced lad", and not to lukashka?' said beletski, speaking to maryanka first for propriety's sake, but having received no reply he went up to ustenka and begged her to bring maryanka home with her. he had hardly time to finish what he was saying before the leader began another song and the girls started pulling each other round in the ring by the hand. they sang: "past the garden, by the garden, a young man came strolling down, up the street and through the town. and the first time as he passed he did wave his strong right hand. as the second time he passed waved his hat with silken band. but the third time as he went he stood still: before her bent. "how is it that thou, my dear, my reproaches dost not fear? in the park don't come to walk that we there might have a talk? come now, answer me, my dear, dost thou hold me in contempt? later on, thou knowest, dear, thou'lt get sober and repent. soon to woo thee i will come, and when we shall married be thou wilt weep because of me!" "though i knew what to reply, yet i dared not him deny, no, i dared not him deny! so into the park went i, in the park my lad to meet, there my dear one i did greet." "maiden dear, i bow to thee! take this handkerchief from me. in thy white hand take it, see! say i am beloved by thee. i don't know at all, i fear, what i am to give thee, dear! to my dear i think i will of a shawl a present make-- and five kisses for it take."' lukashka and nazarka broke into the ring and started walking about among the girls. lukashka joined in the singing, taking seconds in his clear voice as he walked in the middle of the ring swinging his arms. 'well, come in, one of you!' he said. the other girls pushed maryanka, but she would not enter the ring. the sound of shrill laughter, slaps, kisses, and whispers mingled with the singing. as he went past olenin, lukashka gave a friendly nod. 'dmitri andreich! have you too come to have a look?' he said. 'yes,' answered olenin dryly. beletski stooped and whispered something into ustenka's ear. she had not time to reply till she came round again, when she said: 'all right, we'll come.' 'and maryanka too?' olenin stooped towards maryanka. 'you'll come? please do, if only for a minute. i must speak to you.' 'if the other girls come, i will.' 'will you answer my question?' said he, bending towards her. 'you are in good spirits to-day.' she had already moved past him. he went after her. 'will you answer?' 'answer what?' 'the question i asked you the other day,' said olenin, stooping to her ear. 'will you marry me?' maryanka thought for a moment. 'i'll tell you,' said she, 'i'll tell you to-night.' and through the darkness her eyes gleamed brightly and kindly at the young man. he still followed her. he enjoyed stooping closer to her. but lukashka, without ceasing to sing, suddenly seized her firmly by the hand and pulled her from her place in the ring of girls into the middle. olenin had only time to say, "come to ustenka's," and stepped back to his companion. the song came to an end. lukashka wiped his lips, maryanka did the same, and they kissed. "no, no, kisses five!" said lukashka. chatter, laughter, and running about, succeeded to the rhythmic movements and sound. lukashka, who seemed to have drunk a great deal, began to distribute sweetmeats to the girls. "i offer them to everyone!" he said with proud, comically pathetic self-admiration. "but anyone who goes after soldiers goes out of the ring!" he suddenly added, with an angry glance at olenin. the girls grabbed his sweetmeats from him, and, laughing, struggled for them among themselves. beletski and olenin stepped aside. lukashka, as if ashamed of his generosity, took off his cap and wiping his forehead with his sleeve came up to maryanka and ustenka. "answer me, my dear, dost thou hold me in contempt?" he said in the words of the song they had just been singing, and turning to maryanka he angrily repeated the words: "dost thou hold me in contempt? when we shall married be thou wilt weep because of me!" he added, embracing ustenka and maryanka both together. ustenka tore herself away, and swinging her arm gave him such a blow on the back that she hurt her hand. "well, are you going to have another turn?" he asked. "the other girls may if they like," answered ustenka, "but i am going home and maryanka was coming to our house too." with his arm still round her, lukashka led maryanka away from the crowd to the darker corner of a house. "don't go, maryanka," he said, "let's have some fun for the last time. go home and i will come to you!" "what am i to do at home? holidays are meant for merrymaking. i am going to ustenka's," replied maryanka. 'i'll marry you all the same, you know!' 'all right,' said maryanka, 'we shall see when the time comes.' 'so you are going,' said lukashka sternly, and, pressing her close, he kissed her on the cheek. 'there, leave off! don't bother,' and maryanka, wrenching herself from his arms, moved away. 'ah my girl, it will turn out badly,' said lukashka reproachfully and stood still, shaking his head. 'thou wilt weep because of me...' and turning away from her he shouted to the other girls: 'now then! play away!' what he had said seemed to have frightened and vexed maryanka. she stopped, 'what will turn out badly?' 'why, that!' 'that what?' 'why, that you keep company with a soldier-lodger and no longer care for me!' 'i'll care just as long as i choose. you're not my father, nor my mother. what do you want? i'll care for whom i like!' 'well, all right...' said lukashka, 'but remember!' he moved towards the shop. 'girls!' he shouted, 'why have you stopped? go on dancing. nazarka, fetch some more chikhir.' 'well, will they come?' asked olenin, addressing beletski. 'they'll come directly,' replied beletski. 'come along, we must prepare the ball.' chapter xxxix it was already late in the night when olenin came out of beletski's hut following maryanka and ustenka. he saw in the dark street before him the gleam of the girl's white kerchief. the golden moon was descending towards the steppe. a silvery mist hung over the village. all was still; there were no lights anywhere and one heard only the receding footsteps of the young women. olenin's heart beat fast. the fresh moist atmosphere cooled his burning face. he glanced at the sky and turned to look at the hut he had just come out of: the candle was already out. then he again peered through the darkness at the girls' retreating shadows. the white kerchief disappeared in the mist. he was afraid to remain alone, he was so happy. he jumped down from the porch and ran after the girls. 'bother you, someone may see...' said ustenka. 'never mind!' olenin ran up to maryanka and embraced her. maryanka did not resist. 'haven't you kissed enough yet?' said ustenka. 'marry and then kiss, but now you'd better wait.' 'good-night, maryanka. to-morrow i will come to see your father and tell him. don't you say anything.' 'why should i!' answered maryanka. both the girls started running. olenin went on by himself thinking over all that had happened. he had spent the whole evening alone with her in a corner by the oven. ustenka had not left the hut for a single moment, but had romped about with the other girls and with beletski all the time. olenin had talked in whispers to maryanka. 'will you marry me?' he had asked. 'you'd deceive me and not have me,' she replied cheerfully and calmly. 'but do you love me? tell me for god's sake!' 'why shouldn't i love you? you don't squint,' answered maryanka, laughing and with her hard hands squeezing his.... 'what whi-ite, whi-i-ite, soft hands you've got--so like clotted cream,' she said. 'i am in earnest. tell me, will you marry me?' 'why not, if father gives me to you?' 'well then remember, i shall go mad if you deceive me. to-morrow i will tell your mother and father. i shall come and propose.' maryanka suddenly burst out laughing. 'what's the matter?' 'it seems so funny!' 'it's true! i will buy a vineyard and a house and will enroll myself as a cossack.' 'mind you don't go after other women then. i am severe about that.' olenin joyfully repeated all these words to himself. the memory of them now gave him pain and now such joy that it took away his breath. the pain was because she had remained as calm as usual while talking to him. she did not seem at all agitated by these new conditions. it was as if she did not trust him and did not think of the future. it seemed to him that she only loved him for the present moment, and that in her mind there was no future with him. he was happy because her words sounded to him true, and she had consented to be his. 'yes,' thought he to himself, 'we shall only understand one another when she is quite mine. for such love there are no words. it needs life--the whole of life. to-morrow everything will be cleared up. i cannot live like this any longer; to-morrow i will tell everything to her father, to beletski, and to the whole village.' lukashka, after two sleepless nights, had drunk so much at the fete that for the first time in his life his feet would not carry him, and he slept in yamka's house. chapter xl the next day olenin awoke earlier than usual, and immediately remembered what lay before him, and he joyfully recalled her kisses, the pressure of her hard hands, and her words, 'what white hands you have!' he jumped up and wished to go at once to his hosts' hut to ask for their consent to his marriage with maryanka. the sun had not yet risen, but it seemed that there was an unusual bustle in the street and side-street: people were moving about on foot and on horseback, and talking. he threw on his circassian coat and hastened out into the porch. his hosts were not yet up. five cossacks were riding past and talking loudly together. in front rode lukashka on his broad-backed kabarda horse. the cossacks were all speaking and shouting so that it was impossible to make out exactly what they were saying. 'ride to the upper post,' shouted one. 'saddle and catch us up, be quick,' said another. 'it's nearer through the other gate!' 'what are you talking about?' cried lukashka. 'we must go through the middle gates, of course.' 'so we must, it's nearer that way,' said one of the cossacks who was covered with dust and rode a perspiring horse. lukashka's face was red and swollen after the drinking of the previous night and his cap was pushed to the back of his head. he was calling out with authority as though he were an officer. 'what is the matter? where are you going?' asked olenin, with difficulty attracting the cossacks' attention. 'we are off to catch abreks. they're hiding among the sand-drifts. we are just off, but there are not enough of us yet.' and the cossacks continued to shout, more and more of them joining as they rode down the street. it occurred to olenin that it would not look well for him to stay behind; besides he thought he could soon come back. he dressed, loaded his gun with bullets, jumped onto his horse which vanyusha had saddled more or less well, and overtook the cossacks at the village gates. the cossacks had dismounted, and filling a wooden bowl with chikhir from a little cask which they had brought with them, they passed the bowl round to one another and drank to the success of their expedition. among them was a smartly dressed young cornet, who happened to be in the village and who took command of the group of nine cossacks who had joined for the expedition. all these cossacks were privates, and although the cornet assumed the airs of a commanding officer, they only obeyed lukashka. of olenin they took no notice at all, and when they had all mounted and started, and olenin rode up to the cornet and began asking him what was taking place, the cornet, who was usually quite friendly, treated him with marked condescension. it was with great difficulty that olenin managed to find out from him what was happening. scouts who had been sent out to search for abreks had come upon several hillsmen some six miles from the village. these abreks had taken shelter in pits and had fired at the scouts, declaring they would not surrender. a corporal who had been scouting with two cossacks had remained to watch the abreks, and had sent one cossack back to get help. the sun was just rising. three miles beyond the village the steppe spread out and nothing was visible except the dry, monotonous, sandy, dismal plain covered with the footmarks of cattle, and here and there with tufts of withered grass, with low reeds in the flats, and rare, little-trodden footpaths, and the camps of the nomad nogay tribe just visible far away. the absence of shade and the austere aspect of the place were striking. the sun always rises and sets red in the steppe. when it is windy whole hills of sand are carried by the wind from place to place. when it is calm, as it was that morning, the silence, uninterrupted by any movement or sound, is peculiarly striking. that morning in the steppe it was quiet and dull, though the sun had already risen. it all seemed specially soft and desolate. the air was hushed, the footfalls and the snorting of the horses were the only sounds to be heard, and even they quickly died away. the men rode almost silently. a cossack always carries his weapons so that they neither jingle nor rattle. jingling weapons are a terrible disgrace to a cossack. two other cossacks from the village caught the party up and exchanged a few words. lukashka's horse either stumbled or caught its foot in some grass, and became restive--which is a sign of bad luck among the cossacks, and at such a time was of special importance. the others exchanged glances and turned away, trying not to notice what had happened. lukaskha pulled at the reins, frowned sternly, set his teeth, and flourished his whip above his head. his good kabarda horse, prancing from one foot to another not knowing with which to start, seemed to wish to fly upwards on wings. but lukashka hit its well-fed sides with his whip once, then again, and a third time, and the horse, showing its teeth and spreading out its tail, snorted and reared and stepped on its hind legs a few paces away from the others. 'ah, a good steed that!' said the cornet. that he said steed instead of horse indicated special praise. 'a lion of a horse,' assented one of the others, an old cossack. the cossacks rode forward silently, now at a footpace, then at a trot, and these changes were the only incidents that interrupted for a moment the stillness and solemnity of their movements. riding through the steppe for about six miles, they passed nothing but one nogay tent, placed on a cart and moving slowly along at a distance of about a mile from them. a nogay family was moving from one part of the steppe to another. afterwards they met two tattered nogay women with high cheekbones, who with baskets on their backs were gathering dung left by the cattle that wandered over the steppe. the cornet, who did not know their language well, tried to question them, but they did not understand him and, obviously frightened, looked at one another. lukashka rode up to them both, stopped his horse, and promptly uttered the usual greeting. the nogay women were evidently relieved, and began speaking to him quite freely as to a brother. 'ay--ay, kop abrek!' they said plaintively, pointing in the direction in which the cossacks were going. olenin understood that they were saying, 'many abreks.' never having seen an engagement of that kind, and having formed an idea of them only from daddy eroshka's tales, olenin wished not to be left behind by the cossacks, but wanted to see it all. he admired the cossacks, and was on the watch, looking and listening and making his own observations. though he had brought his sword and a loaded gun with him, when he noticed that the cossacks avoided him he decided to take no part in the action, as in his opinion his courage had already been sufficiently proved when he was with his detachment, and also because he was very happy. suddenly a shot was heard in the distance. the cornet became excited, and began giving orders to the cossacks as to how they should divide and from which side they should approach. but the cossacks did not appear to pay any attention to these orders, listening only to what lukashka said and looking to him alone. lukashka's face and figure were expressive of calm solemnity. he put his horse to a trot with which the others were unable to keep pace, and screwing up his eyes kept looking ahead. 'there's a man on horseback,' he said, reining in his horse and keeping in line with the others. olenin looked intently, but could not see anything. the cossacks soon distinguished two riders and quietly rode straight towards them. 'are those the abreks?' asked olenin. the cossacks did not answer his question, which appeared quite meaningless to them. the abreks would have been fools to venture across the river on horseback. 'that's friend rodka waving to us, i do believe,' said lukashka, pointing to the two mounted men who were now clearly visible. 'look, he's coming to us.' a few minutes later it became plain that the two horsemen were the cossack scouts. the corporal rode up to lukashka. chapter xli 'are they far?' was all lukashka said. just then they heard a sharp shot some thirty paces off. the corporal smiled slightly. 'our gurka is having shots at them,' he said, nodding in the direction of the shot. having gone a few paces farther they saw gurka sitting behind a sand-hillock and loading his gun. to while away the time he was exchanging shots with the abreks, who were behind another sand-heap. a bullet came whistling from their side. the cornet was pale and grew confused. lukashka dismounted from his horse, threw the reins to one of the other cossacks, and went up to gurka. olenin also dismounted and, bending down, followed lukashka. they had hardly reached gurka when two bullets whistled above them. lukashka looked around laughing at olenin and stooped a little. 'look out or they will kill you, dmitri andreich,' he said. 'you'd better go away--you have no business here.' but olenin wanted absolutely to see the abreks. from behind the mound he saw caps and muskets some two hundred paces off. suddenly a little cloud of smoke appeared from thence, and again a bullet whistled past. the abreks were hiding in a marsh at the foot of the hill. olenin was much impressed by the place in which they sat. in reality it was very much like the rest of the steppe, but because the abreks sat there it seemed to detach itself from all the rest and to have become distinguished. indeed it appeared to olenin that it was the very spot for abreks to occupy. lukashka went back to his horse and olenin followed him. 'we must get a hay-cart,' said lukashka, 'or they will be killing some of us. there behind that mound is a nogay cart with a load of hay.' the cornet listened to him and the corporal agreed. the cart of hay was fetched, and the cossacks, hiding behind it, pushed it forward. olenin rode up a hillock from whence he could see everything. the hay-cart moved on and the cossacks crowded together behind it. the cossacks advanced, but the chechens, of whom there were nine, sat with their knees in a row and did not fire. all was quiet. suddenly from the chechens arose the sound of a mournful song, something like daddy eroshka's 'ay day, dalalay.' the chechens knew that they could not escape, and to prevent themselves from being tempted to take to flight they had strapped themselves together, knee to knee, had got their guns ready, and were singing their death-song. the cossacks with their hay-cart drew closer and closer, and olenin expected the firing to begin at any moment, but the silence was only broken by the abreks' mournful song. suddenly the song ceased; there was a sharp report, a bullet struck the front of the cart, and chechen curses and yells broke the silence and shot followed on shot and one bullet after another struck the cart. the cossacks did not fire and were now only five paces distant. another moment passed and the cossacks with a whoop rushed out on both sides from behind the cart--lukashka in front of them. olenin heard only a few shots, then shouting and moans. he thought he saw smoke and blood, and abandoning his horse and quite beside himself he ran towards the cossacks. horror seemed to blind him. he could not make out anything, but understood that all was over. lukashka, pale as death, was holding a wounded chechen by the arms and shouting, 'don't kill him. i'll take him alive!' the chechen was the red-haired man who had fetched his brother's body away after lukashka had killed him. lukashka was twisting his arms. suddenly the chechen wrenched himself free and fired his pistol. lukashka fell, and blood began to flow from his stomach. he jumped up, but fell again, swearing in russian and in tartar. more and more blood appeared on his clothes and under him. some cossacks approached him and began loosening his girdle. one of them, nazarka, before beginning to help, fumbled for some time, unable to put his sword in its sheath: it would not go the right way. the blade of the sword was blood-stained. the chechens with their red hair and clipped moustaches lay dead and hacked about. only the one we know of, who had fired at lukashka, though wounded in many places was still alive. like a wounded hawk all covered with blood (blood was flowing from a wound under his right eye), pale and gloomy, he looked about him with wide--open excited eyes and clenched teeth as he crouched, dagger in hand, still prepared to defend himself. the cornet went up to him as if intending to pass by, and with a quick movement shot him in the ear. the chechen started up, but it was too late, and he fell. the cossacks, quite out of breath, dragged the bodies aside and took the weapons from them. each of the red-haired chechens had been a man, and each one had his own individual expression. lukashka was carried to the cart. he continued to swear in russian and in tartar. 'no fear, i'll strangle him with my hands. anna seni!' he cried, struggling. but he soon became quiet from weakness. olenin rode home. in the evening he was told that lukashka was at death's door, but that a tartar from beyond the river had undertaken to cure him with herbs. the bodies were brought to the village office. the women and the little boys hastened to look at them. it was growing dark when olenin returned, and he could not collect himself after what he had seen. but towards night memories of the evening before came rushing to his mind. he looked out of the window, maryanka was passing to and fro from the house to the cowshed, putting things straight. her mother had gone to the vineyard and her father to the office. olenin could not wait till she had quite finished her work, but went out to meet her. she was in the hut standing with her back towards him. olenin thought she felt shy. 'maryanka,' said he, 'i say, maryanka! may i come in?' she suddenly turned. there was a scarcely perceptible trace of tears in her eyes and her face was beautiful in its sadness. she looked at him in silent dignity. olenin again said: 'maryanka, i have come--' 'leave me alone!' she said. her face did not change but the tears ran down her cheeks. 'what are you crying for? what is it?' 'what?' she repeated in a rough voice. 'cossacks have been killed, that's what for.' 'lukashka?' said olenin. 'go away! what do you want?' 'maryanka!' said olenin, approaching her. 'you will never get anything from me!' 'maryanka, don't speak like that,' olenin entreated. 'get away. i'm sick of you!' shouted the girl, stamping her foot, and moved threateningly towards him. and her face expressed such abhorrence, such contempt, and such anger that olenin suddenly understood that there was no hope for him, and that his first impression of this woman's inaccessibility had been perfectly correct. olenin said nothing more, but ran out of the hut. chapter xlii for two hours after returning home he lay on his bed motionless. then he went to his company commander and obtained leave to visit the staff. without taking leave of anyone, and sending vanyusha to settle his accounts with his landlord, he prepared to leave for the fort where his regiment was stationed. daddy eroshka was the only one to see him off. they had a drink, and then a second, and then yet another. again as on the night of his departure from moscow, a three-horsed conveyance stood waiting at the door. but olenin did not confer with himself as he had done then, and did not say to himself that all he had thought and done here was 'not it'. he did not promise himself a new life. he loved maryanka more than ever, and knew that he could never be loved by her. 'well, good-bye, my lad!' said daddy eroshka. 'when you go on an expedition, be wise and listen to my words--the words of an old man. when you are out on a raid or the like (you know i'm an old wolf and have seen things), and when they begin firing, don't get into a crowd where there are many men. when you fellows get frightened you always try to get close together with a lot of others. you think it is merrier to be with others, but that's where it is worst of all! they always aim at a crowd. now i used to keep farther away from the others and went alone, and i've never been wounded. yet what things haven't i seen in my day?' 'but you've got a bullet in your back,' remarked vanyusha, who was clearing up the room. 'that was the cossacks fooling about,' answered eroshka. 'cossacks? how was that?' asked olenin. 'oh, just so. we were drinking. vanka sitkin, one of the cossacks, got merry, and puff! he gave me one from his pistol just here.' 'yes, and did it hurt?' asked olenin. 'vanyusha, will you soon be ready?' he added. 'ah, where's the hurry! let me tell you. when he banged into me, the bullet did not break the bone but remained here. and i say: "you've killed me, brother. eh! what have you done to me? i won't let you off! you'll have to stand me a pailful!"' 'well, but did it hurt?' olenin asked again, scarcely listening to the tale. 'let me finish. he stood a pailful, and we drank it, but the blood went on flowing. the whole room was drenched and covered with blood. grandad burlak, he says, "the lad will give up the ghost. stand a bottle of the sweet sort, or we shall have you taken up!" they bought more drink, and boozed and boozed--' 'yes, but did it hurt you much?' olenin asked once more. 'hurt, indeed! don't interrupt: i don't like it. let me finish. we boozed and boozed till morning, and i fell asleep on the top of the oven, drunk. when i woke in the morning i could not unbend myself anyhow--' 'was it very painful?' repeated olenin, thinking that now he would at last get an answer to his question. 'did i tell you it was painful? i did not say it was painful, but i could not bend and could not walk.' 'and then it healed up?' said olenin, not even laughing, so heavy was his heart. 'it healed up, but the bullet is still there. just feel it!' and lifting his shirt he showed his powerful back, where just near the bone a bullet could be felt and rolled about. 'feel how it rolls,' he said, evidently amusing himself with the bullet as with a toy. 'there now, it has rolled to the back.' 'and lukashka, will he recover?' asked olenin. 'heaven only knows! there's no doctor. they've gone for one.' 'where will they get one? from groznoe?' asked olenin. 'no, my lad. were i the tsar i'd have hung all your russian doctors long ago. cutting is all they know! there's our cossack baklashka, no longer a real man now that they've cut off his leg! that shows they're fools. what's baklashka good for now? no, my lad, in the mountains there are real doctors. there was my chum, vorchik, he was on an expedition and was wounded just here in the chest. well, your doctors gave him up, but one of theirs came from the mountains and cured him! they understand herbs, my lad!' 'come, stop talking rubbish,' said olenin. 'i'd better send a doctor from head-quarters.' 'rubbish!' the old man said mockingly. 'fool, fool! rubbish. you'll send a doctor!--if yours cured people, cossacks and chechens would go to you for treatment, but as it is your officers and colonels send to the mountains for doctors. yours are all humbugs, all humbugs.' olenin did not answer. he agreed only too fully that all was humbug in the world in which he had lived and to which he was now returning. 'how is lukashka? you've been to see him?' he asked. 'he just lies as if he were dead. he does not eat nor drink. vodka is the only thing his soul accepts. but as long as he drinks vodka it's well. i'd be sorry to lose the lad. a fine lad--a brave, like me. i too lay dying like that once. the old women were already wailing. my head was burning. they had already laid me out under the holy icons. so i lay there, and above me on the oven little drummers, no bigger than this, beat the tattoo. i shout at them and they drum all the harder.' (the old man laughed.) 'the women brought our church elder. they were getting ready to bury me. they said, "he defiled himself with worldly unbelievers; he made merry with women; he ruined people; he did not fast, and he played the balalayka. confess," they said. so i began to confess. "i've sinned!" i said. whatever the priest said, i always answered "i've sinned." he began to ask me about the balalayka. "where is the accursed thing," he says. "show it me and smash it." but i say, "i've not got it." i'd hidden it myself in a net in the outhouse. i knew they could not find it. so they left me. yet after all i recovered. when i went for my balalayka--what was i saying?' he continued. 'listen to me, and keep farther away from the other men or you'll get killed foolishly. i feel for you, truly: you are a drinker--i love you! and fellows like you like riding up the mounds. there was one who lived here who had come from russia, he always would ride up the mounds (he called the mounds so funnily, "hillocks"). whenever he saw a mound, off he'd gallop. once he galloped off that way and rode to the top quite pleased, but a chechen fired at him and killed him! ah, how well they shoot from their gun-rests, those chechens! some of them shoot even better than i do. i don't like it when a fellow gets killed so foolishly! sometimes i used to look at your soldiers and wonder at them. there's foolishness for you! they go, the poor fellows, all in a clump, and even sew red collars to their coats! how can they help being hit! one gets killed, they drag him away and another takes his place! what foolishness!' the old man repeated, shaking his head. 'why not scatter, and go one by one? so you just go like that and they won't notice you. that's what you must do.' 'well, thank you! good-bye, daddy. god willing we may meet again,' said olenin, getting up and moving towards the passage. the old man, who was sitting on the floor, did not rise. 'is that the way one says "good-bye"? fool, fool!' he began. 'oh dear, what has come to people? we've kept company, kept company for well-nigh a year, and now "good-bye!" and off he goes! why, i love you, and how i pity you! you are so forlorn, always alone, always alone. you're somehow so unsociable. at times i can't sleep for thinking about you. i am so sorry for you. as the song has it: "it is very hard, dear brother, in a foreign land to live." so it is with you.' 'well, good-bye,' said olenin again. the old man rose and held out his hand. olenin pressed it and turned to go. 'give us your mug, your mug!' and the old man took olenin by the head with both hands and kissed him three times with wet moustaches and lips, and began to cry. 'i love you, good-bye!' olenin got into the cart. 'well, is that how you're going? you might give me something for a remembrance. give me a gun! what do you want two for?' said the old man, sobbing quite sincerely. olenin got out a musket and gave it to him. 'what a lot you've given the old fellow,' murmured vanyusha, 'he'll never have enough! a regular old beggar. they are all such irregular people,' he remarked, as he wrapped himself in his overcoat and took his seat on the box. 'hold your tongue, swine!' exclaimed the old man, laughing. 'what a stingy fellow!' maryanka came out of the cowshed, glanced indifferently at the cart, bowed and went towards the hut. 'la fille!' said vanyusha, with a wink, and burst out into a silly laugh. 'drive on!' shouted olenin, angrily. 'good-bye, my lad! good-bye. i won't forget you!' shouted eroshka. olenin turned round. daddy eroshka was talking to maryanka, evidently about his own affairs, and neither the old man nor the girl looked at olenin. the end caucasian legends translated from the russian of a. goulbat by sergei de wesselitsky-bojidarovitch hinds, noble & eldredge , , west fifteenth st. new york city contents page i. the rain ii. bakarr i., tsar of georgia iii. the incombustible tulip iv. saint nina v. the diamond vi. happiness is within us vii. the tribute of roses viii. the lot of the holy virgin ix. the comet x. the jewel necklace xi. st. mourvanoss xii. zesva xiii. the tale of mikhian preface of the translator last year the georgian people celebrated the one hundredth anniversary of the annexation of its country to the dominion of the great white tsar. these past one hundred years have been an era of uninterrupted and prosperous development of this nation of chivalry and heroism as well as loyalty and devotion to a great and good cause. in the third century a. d., the georgians were converted to christianity by saint nina. ever since they have been a mighty fortress of christendom amidst wild and fanatic mahometan tribes. many a time their loyalty to their faith was sorely tried by the unparalleled cruelty of the turks and persians. their capital was destroyed again and again, their churches ransacked and they commanded to tread upon the holy images which they venerated from childhood upwards. but even in such a terrible moment the georgians showed themselves worthy of their all glorious traditions and thousands found their death in the river koura at tiflis, their chosen capital. for centuries this little nation of heroes battled with the infidels and great was their distress, almost overcome by the gigantic forces of savage enemies, when a protector appeared in the north and re-established law and order, confidence and happiness. seeing that it was essential to assure a permanent security, the ruler of georgia asked in the name of his people to be annexed to the motherhood of orthodox nations. i here reproduce a translation from the russian of the reply of alexander i. parlovitch, emperor of all the russias ( ): "not to increase our forces, not for the gain and extension of ours, the mightiest empire in the world, do we take upon ourselves the burden of the administration of the georgian kingdom. worthiness, honor, and humanity alone place on us the holy duty to establish in georgia a government which may found righteousness, safety, and give every one protection of the law." those are the noble terms of one of russia's noblest rulers, and upon them is based the policy of the administration in regard to the georgians. the georgians, being of the same faith as the russians, sympathize with the latter and are nowadays both a bulwark of the orthodox church and of the true russian conservative governmental spirit. in the wars of - and - they fully proved their perfect fidelity and chivalrous readiness to assist their great deliverers against the turks. the men of georgia are renowned for their heroism, while the women of that country are the most beautiful in the world. the chief occupations of the georgians are: pasturing, farming, jewelry work, silk-manufacturing, and wine-growing. the georgians, taken as a whole, receive a considerable amount of education, and their newspapers, several of which are published at tiflis, are very good. the leading paper is the "iveria" (i. e., georgia). tiflis, the traditional capital of georgia, is a city of , inhabitants, among whom are , georgians proper. a number of other tribes or nationalities such as the imeretians, gourians, mingrelians, wanetes, khevsoures, etc., also belong to what is called the georgian family of nations. the greatest poet of georgia is prince kazbek. among the grand old families we find the orbelians, who trace their ancestry back to an emperor of china, the chavchavadzes, the growzinskys, bgaration-moukranskys, amilakvaris, tsitsianovs, and many others, all of whom have rendered their native land incomparable services and deserve the highest praise. the author of the legends which i have attempted to translate, is a native georgian, mr. a. goulbat, now living in central russia and leading a literary life. he is filled with enthusiasm for his native land and its valiant inhabitants. i have tried as well as i knew how to translate the legends in the same spirit as the author wrote them in the original, which was russian. sergei de wesselitsky-bojidarovitch. caucasian legends i. the rain a legend of the th century at the time of tsar george i (the rulers of georgia were called tsars = kings), in the th century, there lived the famous general, kaiours, belonging to the glorious orbeliani family. it is known that these princes trace their ancestry from an emperor of china and more than once intermarried with our rulers, in consequence of which their position at the court of georgia was an exceptionally pleasant one. it is necessary to add to this that the submission and zeal of the princes orbeliani fully repaid this distinction. they occupied from generation to generation the post of sparapet, that is, of general in chief of all the georgian forces, and astonished the world with their bravery. when george went to war with the greeks, kaiours was taken prisoner, and as this took place during the battle of shirimna, where a great many georgian leaders, among them the generals ratt and zovatt, brothers of kaiours, were lost, the tsar for a long time thought that kaiours had died together with them. it was only when the negotiations for peace began, that emperor vassilii the second proposed to the tsar to exchange kaiours for fourteen fortresses, viz., for one in tao, one in baisiana, one in artana, one in kola, one in djavaheta, in shavhetta, and so on; and besides he demanded as hostage george's three-year-old son, the tsarevitch-successor bagrat. "i am so much indebted to the princely family of the orbelianis that i would consent to give half my kingdom for them," answered the tsar. at the end of the negotiations it was decided that the tsarevitch-successor should remain as hostage at constantinople until the greeks had succeeded in introducing their administration in the above mentioned fortresses and in no case longer than three years. there were those who criticised the tsar for giving away fourteen of the best fortresses in exchange for one man, but the people almost killed them. the general confidence in the warlike capacities of the princes orbeliani was so boundless that many openly said: "let only kaiours come back and by him we shall not only regain possession of all our fortresses, but with the help of god we shall obtain the foreign ones!" there was no end to joy when he returned home. more than all rejoiced his twelve-year-old daughter tamara. the captivity of the father was a great grief to her, as in his absence her mother and brother died. seeing tamara riding forth by herself to meet him, accompanied by an old gamdela (nurse) and several bitchos (young boys, servants), the hero kaiours, the very glance of whom turned whole regiments to flight, cried like a child. father and daughter tenderly embraced and for a long time could not speak. the cries of joy among the people ceased, all remembered the good princess and the pretty boy, who had accompanied her everywhere, and sadness darkened the general joyousness. kaiours was the first one to recover. he addressed those who had come to meet him and invited them to his house, to feast with him. "tamara tries by her courtesy to take the place of my princess," he said, "the lord is not without mercy; during my captivity he gave me a son in exchange for the one whom he took away. plinii," kaiours says, turning to a handsome youth, standing behind him, "help thy sister and me to serve the guests." all looks were now fixed on plinii; tall, well-built, with fine, regular features, he bore an unmistakable stamp of aristocratic descent. feeling himself the object of general interest, he blushed and drooped his eyes, like our bashful young ladies, and this modesty at once disposed everybody in his favor. the old nobleman alexander, whom for his bravery and warlike successes they all called "the macedonian," sat down by kaiours and began to speak thus: "friend, thou hast rightly said that the lord compensated thee for the loss of thy son by a fine youth, whose attachment and filial respect to you we all see and which dispose us in his favor, but we should also like to know who he is and why thou didst adopt him?" "during my captivity," answered kaiours, "the lord sent me a friend. he was a well-known dignitary, a favorite of the emperor and did not need the friendship of the prisoner, nevertheless not a day went by that he did not visit me. we related to each other our war reminiscences and soon began to love each other like brothers. when i received news of the death of my wife and son, his friendly sympathy was my sole consolation. he told me about his life and thus i found out that he had lost his loving companion on the day of plinii's birth. the boy is now eighteen years old and healthy, but not strong, and must be carefully looked after. before my departure my friend fell ill and called me to him. 'i am dying,' he said, 'and thank god that this happens before thy departure, because i am going to hand over to your care my greatest treasure. adopt plinii instead of that son whom god took away from thee. the doctors think that his health needs a much warmer climate than ours.' i swore to love and treat him like my son and hope that the lord will help me to fulfill my vow!" continued kaiours. "thou didst satisfy my curiosity on one point," said alexander--"now i want to find out something else, but for this we must repair to some other place. my heart also grieves about the son, who by the will of the monarch is among the young men accompanying the tsarevitch-heir to greece. although our separation will not exceed three years, yet it does seem an eternity to me." at these words the old men retired, and when they returned they were carrying bowls of horn, filled with wine. with a gay countenance they addressed the feasting crowd. "friends," said alexander, "congratulate me and help me to thank kaiours, who gives me the very best he possesses: i asked the gift of the hand of his daughter for my boy." numberless people offered their congratulations and the feasting continued far into the night. kaiours and alexander saw each other often, the latter always hastened to communicate any news about the son. in the meantime it was discovered that the young men who accompanied bagrat were learning all european languages and sciences. kaiours thought thus: "i gave my daughter an entirely georgian education, she knows neither european languages nor those arts by which the women over there so attract young men; would she not appear strange to your son?" quite unexpectedly was heard plinii's sweet voice. "allow me to say a word." the old men stared at him; he stood before them all red with emotion. "speak!" was their unanimous answer. "my late father did not mind spending any sum for my instruction, they taught me everything that is to be learned in our country. i easily learned the sciences, and if you permit me i shall be only too glad to educate my sister, who herself has a great passion for learning." permission was given, and from then on the young people were inseparable. under plinii's direction tamara soon acquired great perfection in greek. they studied together the poets, committing the finest parts to memory. tamara's wonderful voice grew still grander when she learned from plinii how to accustom it to the rules of music. a harp was obtained, and for whole hours at a time they rejoiced in song. to the young people days, weeks, and months went by with extraordinary rapidity, they were perfectly happy and for a long time could not imagine how they had become so dear to each other. being confident in kaiours's affection, they fearlessly announced to him their discovery. but as kaiours had once given his word to alexander, he did not consider it right to break it. the lessons were stopped and plinii forbidden to visit tamara except in the presence of her father. the young people's happiness suddenly turned to deep grief, which kaiours, who loved them sincerely, secretly shared. after a few days of such torture, plinii could not restrain his feelings and found occasion to have a secret interview with tamara. with tears in his eyes he implored her to run away with him to greece and there be married, but neither prayers nor tears could persuade her to become disobedient to her father. "as thy wife should be so superior to all others as thou art the most beautiful man in the world," said tamara, "how canst thou wish to marry a runaway girl? no, plinii, let us wait! god is omnipotent! he knows, sees and esteems everything in due measure. he knows very well whether we find it easy not to be able to see each other, and i am sure that if we do nothing to provoke him, he himself will find means to stop our separation; only this i pray thee, do not forget me and don't try to find an occasion to see me secretly." morning and evening, day and night, tamara prayed to god to make an end to their separation, and the lord answered her prayer. once upon a time, accompanied by an old nurse and a bitcho (young boy servant), she started on a pilgrimage to some distant monastery where there lived an old man of ascetic life. to him tamara revealed her grief and the old man led her into his garden. there in the presence of all he began to pray for her, and suddenly a terrible cloud appeared, lightning was seen and fearful strokes of thunder were heard. those who were present fell to the ground from fright. at last the storm was over. "arise!" said the prior, "the lord has heard us sinners and comforted tamara!" "but where is she?" they asked. "there," answered the old man, pointing to a magnificent fragrant lily, which had suddenly appeared in the midst of his garden. "the lord turned her into a flower," he continued. the people would not believe it. the nurse spread a rumor that the crafty abbot had hidden tamara. forgetting godly fear and fearing kaiours's wrath, she insulted and cursed him. the boy servants, among whom there were many mahometans, searched the whole monastery, all the surrounding woods and bushes, and not finding tamara anywhere, they killed the holy old man and burned down the monastery. the ancient building stood in flames, also the stone enclosure, many a hundred year old tree, the huge library, in fact all the scanty good of the images. alone the church and the lily into which tamara had been transformed were spared. upon hearing of what had occurred, kaiours and plinii hastened to the spot. in the church there was nobody, everything else represented a field of coal and ashes. tamara was nowhere to be found. only in the midst of all these ashes there grew a splendid, fresh, fragrant white lily. plinii was the first to approach her and began to cry. kaiours followed him and was very much startled. he noticed that when plinii's tears fell on the coal surrounding the lily, her tender leaves grew quite yellow from jealousy; on the other hand when they dripped into the lily she grew red from joy. "tamara, is it thou we see?" asked the father. just at that moment there came up a little breeze and kaiours and plinii heard distinctly as though the leaves spoke: "it is i, father!" the inconsolable father could not stand the loss of his daughter and immediately died from grief, but poor plinii cried so much and so long and so fervently prayed to god that he might be united with tamara, that in the end the lord transformed him to rain. i have heard that in bygone times whenever a dryness set in the inhabitants of the surrounding villages hastened to the abandoned church, around which lilies always grew in abundance, and picked whole baskets of them. they scattered the fragrant harvest in the fields and gardens and the young maidens sang tamara's song. the lovely melodious composition was as fragrant and clean as the dear flower which they glorified. this song, indeed, is tamara's very prayer, showing all her childish faith in god's almightiness. it ends with an invocation of plinii, who, they say, always appears in the form of a warm, beneficial rain. i heard even that these lilies preserved a rare capacity, viz., sometimes to grow red, sometimes yellow, and our maidens thus concluded that these flowers could tell one's fortune. each maiden notices one flower and after the rain goes to look for it. is the lily yellow, the young girl entertains great fears as to the fidelity of her lover; is it red, she never doubts his attachment to her. whether this quaint custom still prevails i don't know. i am always sorry when some such tradition becomes forgotten! in our ancient legends there was so much of the truthful, honorable and elevated that these circumstances alone rendered them most instructive. ii. bakarr the first, tsar of georgia a story bakarr the first ascended the throne after the death of his well-beloved and much-esteemed father, mirian the converter. remembering the counsels of his dear, dear father, he turned all his glorious efforts towards converting and instructing those mountain inhabitants who had not submitted themselves to the peremptory orders of mirian and had thus not appeared to be baptized with the rest of the grand old nation. highly honorable in every way, simple in his manners, the ever-patient bakarr finally succeeded in obtaining the long desired baptism of the wild unbelievers, without applying any forcible and dangerous measures. having heard of his peacefulness of character, the armenian tsar thought it opportune to take the throne away from him and hand it over to irdat, the son of the deceased tsarevitch revv and the armenian tsarevna salomee. but bakarr united all the qualities of a brave and excellent general with the greatest virtues of an earnest, peaceful tsar. he therefore arranged an alliance with his dear nephew, the persian king kossrovve the second, and jointly with him, in a fearful and hard-fought battle in the province of djavakheta, completely defeated and destroyed the wretched armenian army and turned it to disgraceful flight. the amply terrified tsarevna salomee begged the emperor of greece to be kind enough to explain to bakarr that the armenian tsar had not acted upon her advice or desire. willing to let each one of his loving subjects approach and debate with him, bakarr on the other hand did not consider it in accordance with his sublime merit to have the neighboring sovereigns mix in and begin to reason about his own family affairs, and therefore he briefly replied to the great greek emperor thus: "until in the family of the georgian tsar bakarr the first there proveth to be one who is unable and too weak to properly reign, the throne will belong to it, and the children of revv ought not to bring forth the slightest pretensions." to his ally, however, to kossrovve the second, he announced that the attack of the armenian tsar forced him to seriously look after the safety and education of the children of his brother and sister, whom mirian willingly permitted to be married to pkerose. actually at the end of the war, the first active deed of bakarr was the exact arrangement about the domains of pkerose. instead of rana from bardave on, given to pkerose by mirian, he begged bakarr to give him sammshvillde, to which the tsar fully consented, constructing a direct line as far as the entrance of the christavstvo (province) of abbots. deeply moved by the great-heartedness of the tsar, pkerose accepted christianity and was baptized with his whole nation, but bakarr occupied himself with thoroughly settling the widow and children of his brother revv. he led them to kouketka, and having made his way into roustava, he handed over this country to the administration of his nephews irdat and bakourious with the title of kristaves, and under them their mother salomee quietly lived in their company. this sovereign sacrificed his whole life to the betterment and thorough reforming of his great monarchy and distinguished himself by passionate uprightness. he considerably increased the churches and the church servants. by him was also founded the perfectly magnificent cathedral of tsillkanny. he died in the year three hundred and sixty-four and was buried by the side of his father mirian. before dying he also, just like mirian, hung his royal crown on the marvellous cross of saint nina, touched his son and successor mirdat the second with it, and afterwards placed the crown on the head of his son and openly proclaimed him his rightful heir. this solemn custom was strictly observed by all georgian tsars. although bakarr made absolutely no new acquisitions, yet his short but most wise administration had firmly united together all decaying, poorer, and mutually inimical parts of his government, and finally confirmed the actual preponderance of christianity over all other religions, and therefore his reign was considered one of the very best and most blissful. iii. the incombustible tulip in the second century b. c., armenia was governed by valarsass, the brother of the persian shah arsass the great. at that period the countries to the north of the arabs were called chaldea and pontus. in the latter lived a young hero, morphiliziy, who at the head of his followers could not only repel all attacks of valarsass, but even in a decisive battle completely defeated him; thereupon he annexed also the georgian frontier counties, among others kaeounan, and was proclaimed tsar (king) by his grateful subjects. it happened that just then kaeounan was governed by john, a native of the city of damascus, whom they therefore called damassk, i.e., the damascian. he was a widower and possessed but one daughter, a perfect beauty, by the name of nina. during the battle, damassk, through his personal bravery, attracted morphiliziy's attention, who challenged him to a duel. for a long time the old warrior's experience counterbalanced the hero's strength of the pontitian, but in the end his old strength began to give way, his movements slackened their usual rapidity and he could not escape from morphiliziy's horse, which transpierced him. dripping with blood, he fell from the faithful steed. at that moment morphiliziy jumped off his horse and tried to revive him with all his strength. the dying man opened his eyes. "ask whatever favor thou wishest, old hero!" the conqueror exclaimed. "in thee i found the first man whose military adroitness excelled mine!" "don't abandon my daughter," murmured john, and thereupon died. entering kaeounan, morphiliziy first of all rushed to john's house and was astounded by nina's beauty. "she shall be my wife!" he loudly broke out, and immediately appointed a day for the wedding. with fright the unhappy orphan heard of this decision. how could she, who so dearly loved her father, become the wife of his murderer. "not for anything in the world," she repeated a thousand times in one hour, and upon pronouncing that sentence, her magnificent eyes, which were usually a very ocean of goodness and mildness, were filled with some terrible fire. we must notice that in those times it was customary among our noblemen to choose gamdelis among the jewesses, for their daughters. john had of course followed the general custom, and little nina, who in early childhood had lost her mother, loved her gamdela (nurse) with all the enthusiasm of her daring soul. all of the gamdela's tastes were nina's. her faith, her god were the same faith and the same god as her pupil's. thus the nurse was the first person to come to hear of nina's decision and was asked for advice. the old woman silently listened to her and long did not say a word, only the features of her face took a painful expression. "why art thou so silent?" impatiently remarked nina. "i am reflecting whether i shall tell thee still another cause for thy refusing morphiliziy or whether it is better to say no more about it." at last with a sad smile she broke out and at the same time her piercing glance was fixed on nina, who flew into a passion and turned away. "and so my supposition is true, thou dost love the aznaoure of cicero!" nina threw herself on the floor and hid her grieved face between the knees of the gamdela. the old woman caressingly touched her long hair with her wrinkled hands and began to think; at last she decided to reveal the result of her reflections. "thou art so young that i am afraid to advise thee seriously. could not a time well come when thou mayest be sorry to have made him thy master, who might be thy slave? remember that morphiliziy is a king, but cicero does not even belong to the aristocracy. he is a simple, poor nobleman of such as thy father had many; were he alive such a marriage would hardly suit him. besides thou art accustomed to luxury, while cicero has absolutely nothing, also whatever thou hast thou canst never give away. the only means to unite you is for you to run immediately into the country of his forefathers and there be married. i tell thee openly: what disposes me in favor of cicero is his constant, endless and boundless submission to thee. i noticed it long ago and have been watching him, but notwithstanding my experience and closest attention, i did not find a single instance in which he might be blamed." the hidden face of the young lady lit up with some roguish smile. perhaps she thought that the nurse esteemed her sagacity too highly. whatever may have been her feelings, the moment she raised her head from the knees of the old woman, all traces of her smiles vanished. she sat upon the floor at the nurse's feet and for a long time they silently glanced at each other; each one had her idea. suddenly nina quite unexpectedly threw her white hands around the neck of the old woman, hid her face on her shoulder and loudly cried. "gamdela," she passionately said, "arrange it as thou didst just now propose, arrange it all if thou lovest me and dost not wish that i should die! i don't want, i cannot--no, i will not live without cicero! for him i will give up with joy and distinction my riches or even the royal crown! what is all that to me if i am not to have him? dost thou understand, dear nurse, that i love him more than i ever loved thee, or my father; that i love him more than whosoever in the world; that i love him as fishes do water. and thou sayest that he could be my slave--well, do i want such a thing? i myself desire to be his slave and do all he commands! i love him just because he is poor, unknown and a stranger to every one here!" and nina again became hysterical. the poor gamdela did her best to quiet the young girl with caressing movements of her aged hands, she herself trembled from emotion, quietly cried and innerly prayed. in the end she succeeded in putting nina to bed and herself called for cicero, and with her first glance at the young man persuaded herself that she was not mistaken as to his boundless devotion to nina. yesterday still all fell in love with the handsome youth, in the best of health, but now he stood before her with a rawboned pale face and castdown eyes, even the lips grew white and their edges nervously jerked. the old woman with precaution informed him how matters stood, and immediately tried with all her might to restrain his boundless joy. when he had reflected a little, she ordered to prepare two riding horses for the hour of midnight and advised cicero to wait at the western gates, whither she promised to bring nina, dressed in men's clothes. upon this occasion he was also given a belt, richly sewn with gold. having done there everything that was necessary, the gamdela went to nina and prepared her for the hasty departure. midnight came. with silent steps two shades moved through the whole house and across the court. at the western gates the impatient cavalier was already waiting with an extra horse. nina quickly mounted it, with a happy smile motioned to the dear old woman, and soon they disappeared in the darkness. however much the gamdela wished to remain at the gates, as long as the trampling of the galloping hoofs could be heard of those horses which took away with them, perhaps forever, all that was dearest to her in the whole world, common sense did not permit this and the nurse returned home and passed the remainder of the night in tears and prayer. at sunrise the house was filled with her lamentations. the frightened servants instantly answered her call and found her in the garden on the bank of the river. by her side lay nina's dress and linen. seeing people run, she motioned to them, and wringing her hands she explained to them that nina was drowned. old and young rushed to the river, not only the people of the household, but the whole town joined those seeking; nevertheless all efforts proved to be in vain. morphiliziy's warriors upon hearing of what had taken place immediately informed their lord, and were all without exception ordered to go to search for nina. morphiliziy himself rushed to the garden and began to question the grief-stricken old woman. from her explanations, constantly interrupted by moaning, he understood that nina long ago asked to go bathing, that the gamdela, fearing the swiftness of the river, had not given her permission, and that this day at sunrise the impatient girl had quietly slipped out into the garden while the nurse was sleeping and got what she desired. awaking and beholding the empty bed, the gamdela immediately ran to the banks of the river, but found nothing but nina's dress. morphiliziy himself went into the water, turned over every bush and stone, swam beyond the town, but found nothing at all. everywhere he met people who were on the same errand; the warriors searched, the men of damask, the citizens, yes, all who could swim, were out working, but in vain. the grieved sovereign came up on the bank and declared that he would grant any reward to him who found nina living or dead and brought her to him. a day went by--no news. and a second day went by; many of those on the lookout returned home with the discouraging news that they had not found the girl. the town again took its usual look. morphiliziy alone did not sleep and thoughtfully sat on the roof of his house. the night was warm, with bright moonlight, and acted quietingly upon the unhappy tsar. about midnight he beheld a shade approaching his house and began to look at it with anxiety. soon he discovered that it was his favorite negro. "noy!" he cried out. "it is i, sire," replied the negro. "let me immediately report." "come up quickly!" and morphiliziy's heart was suddenly bent and frosted and beat so hard that it caused pain. the hero put his hand on his breast in the hope of quieting its movements, but it went on most painfully and his momentary joy turned to fearful worry. in a moment noy appeared before him. "hast thou found her alive or dead?" he quickly asked. "living," began noy, "but...." "well, where is she then?... a horse, let me have a horse this very moment!" shouted morphiliziy, but the disappointed, almost terrified looks of noy caused him to think the matter over. "why art thou thus silent?" he impatiently asked the slave. "sire ... she is not ... alone! she lives with ... a young man!" morphiliziy turned his back upon the negro in order to hide the impression which these words had produced on him. he sat down on a stool and pointing to the carpet lying at his feet ordered noy to relate everything in detail and without hurrying. "sire," said the negro--"i wished to deceive thee! i wanted to escape bondage and return to the land of my forefathers. i thought of taking advantage of the general disorder, went into the stable, saddled thy horse, explaining that i was starting for the search, and while all the people were looking for nina along the banks of the river, i started in the opposite direction--straight to the sea, where i dreamt of finding a ship and sailing away. at first i was unusually delighted, but little by little i began to be overpowered by the fear of being pursued. my horse flew like the wind and i induced it to go faster and faster. in the meantime my fear grew stronger at every step. it changed to terror--into some kind of despair; i no longer let the horse catch breath, but chased him like a crazy man. in the end his speed grew smaller. i became furious, tore the cloth and beat him without mercy. he still went on a little farther and beyond his strength, and then rolled into the dust. this was in a forest. i unsaddled and unbridled him, but he did not raise himself and so i continued my way on foot. suddenly i overheard human voices; i stopped and began to listen. evidently these were two persons in love with each other, and i had nothing to fear. i cautiously approached, continuing to hide myself in thick bushes and trying to look at those conversing. "to my surprise i beheld two young boys; they sat together and were eating. 'must we ride still farther?' asked the younger one. "'i am very tired!' "'it is no wonder you are tired, my little soul,' replied the older boy, 'why, see! we did not leave our horses for about twenty-four hours; i do think it would be more sensible if we remained the night here; i shall light a fire as a guard against wild beasts, put under thee my bourka [a long black cape without sleeves commonly used all over the caucasus], and watch while thou art asleep!' "'ah! but if we made for the village thou too couldst rest?' "'no, my joy, i am more afraid for thee of morphiliziy and his followers than of all the wild animals of this slumbering thicket. from the latter i can always save my bride, but from morphiliziy it is only a wonder if we escape alive!' "i understood all, and impulsively retired. why should i then run away, knowing that thou wouldst give me my freedom in any case. returning to that spot whence i had descended to overhear their conversation, i suddenly came upon a little stream and sat down on its bank. my crazy race had quite exhausted my strength. i drew some bread from my pocket, picked off some wild figs and began to eat, reflecting how i should come home the quickest. seeing where i was, there was no use of trying to return home on foot, but where should i find a horse. "having finished my meal, i arose and went to that place where a few hours before i had abandoned your horse; to my greatest pleasure he was munching grass. i led him to the stream, let him drink, saddled him and put on the bridle. to ride him would have had no sense. after walking an hour he grew more lively, and i began to hope that he was recovering, especially as he suddenly joyfully raised his head and neighed. i imagined that in the distance some other horse answered likewise. i hurried in that direction; after a little while the horses again exchanged compliments, and guiding myself by their voices, i soon met a young cavalier on a fine persian horse. "by his fashionable costume it was easy to distinguish him as one of the local aristocrats. i reverently bowed; he answered my salute and his eyes were fixed upon thy horse, which he fell in love with, like a connoisseur. "'whither art thou, traveller?' he asked. "'i am from afar, sir, sent by my ruler upon a hasty and important affair and must walk the rest of the way for i am incapable of managing this horse.' "'it is the very best thoroughbred arabian steed that i have ever seen; thou didst excessively tire it and thou wilt certainly ruin this jewel for good if you do not give him rest. i don't know thy master and don't wish to know his name, but even on his own land i cannot allow such a treasure to be ruined. mount then my horse, gallop away to thy lord and tell him that thou didst leave his half-dead horse at the tavad of bidandara's. if he wishes to sell him i shall pay any price he may demand; if he does not want to part with him, why then let him send back my horse and take back his own; at bidandara's everybody finds hospitality--even animals,' and he got off his horse, took hold of and led away mine without listening to my exclamations of gratitude. "i gave him time to go a long way and then chased his horse still more mercilessly than thine. i knew that thou wilt give him the centuple, and therefore thought only how i could reach thee the soonest. upon entering the town he fell and i ran the rest of the way on foot. what doest thou command me to do now?" "this moment thou wilt choose two of the best horses and lead them hither. we shall immediately start in pursuit; tell my lifeguards secretly to catch up with us. let them have pity upon the horses and take plenty of wine and provisions with them, for thou must be quite hungry!" in a few minutes the two cavaliers rode out of town and later on they were followed by a whole detachment of warriors, trying to catch up with them. morphiliziy was not riding very fast, but thinking. he remembered that still a short time before, when but a simple army commander, he had no other wishes besides military glory; all his plans seemed to have been successfully carried out when he was proclaimed king and his name passed from mouth to mouth, surrounded with all the glitter of the recent victory. the triumph over damask, the most glorious warrior of his century, appeared to him as the height of blissfulness. he remembered also that unusual, up to this time new to him, feeling which suddenly arose in him upon beholding nina. the very glance at this young girl, hardly out of her teens, drove out of his heart and imagination everything in which he up to this moment had prided himself--military glory and victories over valarsass and the accession to the throne--all vanished somewhere in the distance, occupied some remote spot and was no longer of any interest to him. and to think that this child had made fun of him! this child had managed her nurse and servants and warriors and even him, morphiliziy, the terrible, powerful and invincible conqueror! this little girl feared not his anger, was not frightened by his forces, did not tremble before his might. his warrior's renown, his monarchy, his personal charms had not won her. she was not at all excited or especially delighted over the impression she had produced upon the hero, and in just the same way she treated a little boy, whom he could knock down with one blow like some piece of paper! he resolved that nina should be his wife however difficult it might be to obtain her hand. she did not wish his love--she did not see the need of his caresses--"then," thought he, "let her feel my strength, my might, my power--yes, my wrath!" these reflections were interrupted by the approaching warriors. morphiliziy turned around; the moon lit up his pale face and sparkling eyes. the soldiers were frightened, never yet had they seen him look thus. "give noy wine and bread--he will eat on the way, but to you, my comrades in battle, i shall now unfold the secret of my soul. you know my whole life, you know very well that there is not a man who could boast of having conquered me; you know too that my very glance can put regiments to flight, that my name was sufficient to make kings and nations tremble, and now, when i reached the height of glory and power, i wanted to divide them with an orphan, i wanted to place her upon that throne for which i am indebted to your love and submission to me, i wished to proclaim her tsaritsa and share with her my glory, my happiness, and my power! but she refused all these things, and me too, and ran off with a boy. now...." morphiliziy's speech was interrupted, he sighed deeply and continued: "we are out to pursue them. think up some punishment worthy of their crime. what shall be done with her?" "kill them both!" was the unanimous reply. "that is insufficient!" answered the tsar. "drown them in the river, where they betrayed their deception!" "not enough!" "have them burned alive!" "still too good for them!" "let them be torn to pieces by wild beasts!" "all this is very little!" replied morphiliziy. "all this is quickly over and does not appease my desire for revenge. they must be captured alive and locked up one opposite the other, so that through the open windows of their dungeons they may see each other, and then i shall prepare my rival a spectacle that will wound him worse than fire, but afterwards i shall hand over to you nina, and then there will be time to cut off their proud heads and throw them away to be eaten by the dogs!" the tsar grew silent, his face became still paler, his eyes stared out worse than before; he was so terrible to look at, that even the fearless warriors could not glance at him and hardly approached his horse and noy's, which they were hurrying on at full speed. the sun rose--they continued their ride, a whole day went by, the journey went on as before, and night overtook them again when they entered a forest. noy announced that it was the same forest in which he had left the fugitives. the moon shone poorly from behind the eternal trees, it became necessary to get off the horses, which were left to the care of several warriors, but the others went on and soon found that little field of wild copse on which cicero and nina had rested, they even found the place where they had been sitting. the grass was trodden down, it bore the traces of spilt wine and crumbs of bread--one large shrub was cut down--but there were no branches. "they probably burned them in a wood-pile," remarked noy. "well, where then are the traces of the wood-pile?" replied morphiliziy. upon noticing that from the place where they stood onward the grass was trodden down and seemed to form a kind of road, all followed upon this track. by sunrise they left the forest and spread themselves out over a splendid meadow, which ended in a field. the track went on across the meadow to the very field, which was beginning to be worked by laborers. morphiliziy dispatched one of his warriors to ask to whom this field belonged and whether they had not seen two boys on horseback yesterday. the soldier returned with a peasant. "this is the field of the tavad bidandari, we are his men and did not work here yesterday, but we heard that our master had brought home some two youths, one of whom is ill, and to-day by the orders of the proprietor, my brother went for the znabar (a kind of doctor) on the seacoast." "why, is it far to the sea?" asked morphiliziy. "six or seven agatches" (an agatche is a little more than six and less than seven versts). "what! is there no doctor nearer than that?" again asked morphiliziy. "why should there not be one? we have a doctor in the village who is immediately at the side of the patient when required, but the other one is cleverer because he takes advantage of the sea tide in order to collect plants, shells, insects, and little fishes, which our own doctors do not get a chance to use for their medicine." "tell thy master that the owner of the arab horse came to thank him for his favor, to pay his debt, and asks permission to come in." the peasant went off, but morphiliziy ordered his warriors to return to the forest, and taking noy with him, followed from afar the running laborer. he was very particular in explaining to noy why he did not wish his name to be disclosed before the right time. bidandari came out to meet his guest and led him to some gorgeous apartments where a number of fashionably attired servants surrounded the newcomer, offering elegant clothes, aromatic soaps, and every kind of luxury customary in those times. having washed and dressed, morphiliziy came into an adjoining room where a dinner was set. the host met him at the door with two large horns filled with old wine, which, joining hands, they drank at the same time, as a sign of friendship. notwithstanding that morphiliziy had eaten almost nothing for more than two days, the rare and numerous dishes did not dazzle him. he had to make an effort in order to pretend that he was eating. at the end of the dinner the host offered him to take a rest, but morphiliziy said that before that he would like to talk with him alone: then bidandari, who had not even looked as though he had recognized his sovereign, respectfully fell down on one knee and kissed the edge of the royal coat. "you recognized me, tavad?" said the surprised king. "yes, your majesty, but i did not dare to say this before the rest, because i did not know the reason you had for not speaking openly." "i came hither to carry out my revenge and i cannot do it without your help." "pray tell, what is it you order?" "but this is against the laws of hospitality, in which your house has always glorified itself." "if it be impossible to receive satisfaction for being insulted otherwise--then give orders to kill me--in such a way at least i fulfil my duty as to you, like a faithful subject, obliged to defend the honor of his sovereign even to death and shall not be responsible for what occurs in my house after my death." "but, tavad, you forget that in such a case i fulfil my duty neither like a tsar, nor like a guest, but of this let us speak later. the point of the affair is that in your own house my bride is hiding, disguised as a boy, and i want to take her immediately with me. it seems to me that by handing her over to me you do nothing offensive to the rules of hospitality; as to her companion, he has insulted my royal honor, and it is only natural that every true subject should himself chase him out of his house as soon as he learns about his crime." bidandari sighed and his face took a sad expression. "i ask a favor of you, sire; sooner order that i be killed than that my guest receiveth the merited punishment and let me now tell you all that weighs on me. before death one is permitted to put aside every etiquette and to speak with one's sovereign without the customary court formalities, thereupon i take the liberty of treating you like a brilliant warrior." "you forget, tavad, that i am very much obliged to you, and that you therefore have the right to demand anything you like of me except to pardon my rival. you yourself are a young and unmarried man, is it possible you do not understand my thoughts?" "forgive me, sire, but i must again speak none but the bare truth! my meeting with your negro you already know about. wishing to come home by the very most direct way, i went on a trail which by chance brought me up to two boys. the younger of them was shaking from malaria, he was pale and lay upon a bourka, but the older one sat by him in despair and wrung his hands. on this same little meadow two saddled and tired horses were feeding; by their exhausted look it was perfectly clear that the travellers came a long way. i came up from behind, and when i greeted them, the elder brother quickly jumped up and seized a kinjall (caucasian knife or rather dagger), while the younger boy simply sighed and looked at me in a terrified way; he was evidently either too ill or too exhausted to make any kind of a movement. 'fear nothing,' i said, 'i came to offer you my hospitality, which you hardly have a right to refuse as you are on my lands.' "'excuse me,' suspiciously answered the older one--'before i accept your kind offer, i should like to ask you where you took this horse from, which yesterday was still the property of the monarch?' "i explained it. the boy reflected. 'what dost thou think of, young man, accept quickly my offer, and together we shall carry the sick brother into a warm room, in which his illness will be over by morning, while here he may die from taking cold.' "the boy got frightened. "'promise me not to hand us out to morphiliziy alive or dead, and i will readily accept your invitation with gratitude; otherwise we should both prefer to die.' "i glanced at the sick boy, he evidently made an effort to smile and thus confirm his brother's words, but this smile lit up his face with such an inexpressible magnificence that i began to be very much puzzled--after all was it not a woman? i accorded the desired promise. we made litters of the branches of a soft coppice. i told them that i would send horses for their conveyance, but thy horse tied itself to the girdle and we safely brought our litter to the house. during the night the patient began to groan and constantly repeated: "'darling cicero, if they discover us--kill me, i wish to be neither a tsaritsa nor anything else except thy wife!' "there was not the least doubt left by this time; this was a woman who had run away from some detested man together with her lover. seeing that it was no longer possible to hide anything, cicero related the whole story to me. they already loved each other, sire, when thou didst first see her. perhaps thou wilt say that cicero might perfectly well have conquered his attachment; taking into account that nina was the object of this attachment--such a change was very improbable indeed. i say further that i myself was overtaken by such an extraordinary feeling of delight before this utmost perfection of beauty that i felt as though it was not worth living on earth if one could not possess nina; and in consequence of all this, sire, thou dost partly fulfil my proper wish if thou dost order me to be executed as one bending down before thy will. to hand them out to you after my promise is beyond my powers." morphiliziy walked up and down the room with huge steps and nervously twitching with his mouth. "i wish to see her!" he said. "oh, monarch, be gracious! before thy arrival here, a doctor had just attended upon her. she has a fever from terror, she frequently cries, saying: "'i am so tired that i cannot ride any farther! they pursue us--yes, they pursue us!' if she should see thee now, death would surely set in. as a satisfaction to thy offended pride, take away my life, which has become so painful to me. i am more guilty before thee than cicero, because i dared to fall in love with thy bride, while he just worshipped a free girl and was fervently loved by her before thou didst enter the town and becamest our ruler. thou didst permit me to request rewards for ordinary services; don't let nina perish! don't deprive her of that happiness of which she deprived thee, and even me!" bidandari wished to bend a knee, but the tsar did not allow him to take such a step. "we shall converse like young men of equal rank," said he. "leave me alone; in a few minutes i shall call thee." bidandari went out, but morphiliziy again paced the floor. within him a terrible combat was going on. on one side his deceived love and wounded pride demanded cruel revenge, on the other hand the elevated thoughts of his soul, his well-known love of mercy and chivalrous nobility of soul inclined him to follow bidandari's advice. after walking a whole hour his bad intentions went away, and completely worn out from physical exhaustion as well as spiritual disturbance, he threw himself down upon the sofa and went to sleep with the firm resolution to pardon nina. but alas! ibliss (the devil) is always angered by any noble intention, be it of a christian, be it of a heathen, and always exerts himself in finding ways of preventing their being carried out. and thus it happened also this time. he appeared to morphiliziy in a dream under the form of nina; she was sitting at the feet of bidandari and gaily joked and laughed. morphiliziy did his best to overhear their conversation and understood that they were laughing at his confidence. bidandari boasted about his cleverness, but nina laughed aloud. "i assured him that thou lovest cicero--that once i came upon you by chance; and he believed it all like a stupid child. he allows cicero to marry and lets you go to rome, whither i shall soon follow you, and then only will he find out the true state of affairs. thou must admit, my nina, that i cleverly thought up all and am worthy of a reward!" instead of answering, nina threw herself on his neck and morphiliziy saw and heard how the mouths joined together in kissing. he awoke trembling from furor. "noy," he cried. the negro appeared. "tell the warriors to bring me immediately, all chained, bidandari, cicero, and her! i shall instantly ride home alone! if i stay here but a minute longer i shall choke them all, and this is little! a horse, i say, a horse!" in a moment he was already riding off home, but at sunrise on the following day they brought to his house the three guilty ones. he came out on the roof, all wicked, dark, terrible! all his former noble feelings had disappeared for good, he gave himself up to the work of pitiless revenge. silently he pointed to nina and his house. the warriors understood and led her there. cicero made a desperate effort to run after her, but the heavy chains and powerful arms of the soldiers held him fast. then the tsar pointed to cicero and to the house situated opposite him. cicero was led off there. before him there remained but bidandari. "cut off his sly head!" shouted morphiliziy, with such anger that a flame came out of his mouth at these words. the warriors fell upon bidandari, but hardly had his head been divided from his body, when a wonder occurred. the day was bright and clear, without a single cloud in the sky, but at this moment an immense black cloud descended unto the corpse and hid him from the eyes of those standing about. all stared with the greatest attention. little by little the cloud went off, but on the spot where bidandari stood a magnificent white tulip grew up. "he is a witch!" cried morphiliziy, and again the flame was seen coming out of his mouth and nostrils. "bring the messenger of charms, the old gamdela, and knock her down before this cursed tulip!" when they cut off her head and the blood was spattered unto the tulip, its centre grew strikingly red with pale rosy stripes on the leaves, which rendered it still more beautiful. "now," said morphiliziy angrily, "drag cicero to the window, stand by his side and don't let him turn his head. i should like him to see everything that is going to occur opposite!" and he roared like a madman, and the flame again came out of his mouth, nostrils and ears. "away with the remaining people from here," he shouted in conclusion. the square was instantly cleared. "hand me nina over here!" was morphiliziy's last command as he entered the house and took a place at a window opposite the one to which cicero was lashed. they brought up nina, half dead from fear. "god of israel! save me!" she cried out. "nobody will save thee from me!" wickedly answered morphiliziy, and seizing nina and embracing her he brought her to the open window. opposite, cicero was making astounding but futile efforts to free himself from his chains. "call to my god--cicero! he is stronger than that man!" cried nina. in this moment she glanced at her feet and fainted from terror. morphiliziy was also astounded. he saw that her feet grew together and formed one black mass. he rashly tore her clothes off her body, but the transformation took place still faster; her whole body burned and grew black, and in a few minutes from her hands there jumped out a splendid butterfly and joyfully flew across the square to meet another one who had come out of cicero's dungeon. both of them hurried to the gamdela's body and to the white tulip and circled around them. how could one describe morphiliziy's wrath? to express his anger he could no longer find any human words. some horrible, fearful sounds came out of his mouth together with flames. with terror his warriors looked on as he threw himself about on the square and as his eyes flashed. little by little he turned completely into a flame. fiery tongues began to climb out of the window, slipped down to the square and everywhere rose into the air, hoping to burn the poor butterflies. in vain did they fly all over the place, everywhere the flame chased them, at last they hid themselves in the tulip, which hastened to shelter them with its leaves. the whole fury of the fire was now fixed upon the unhappy little flower. just then the body of the gamdela was transformed into a shower. as much as morphiliziy harassed his enemy, the faithful gamdela fought against him; thus, notwithstanding all the badness of morphiliziy, he did not succeed in burning the tulip, but the white leaves only ornamented themselves with all the colors of the flame. in the end the nurse finally conquered her enemy. he went down into the ground and shows himself only when the lord wishes to punish sinners. oh, how dreadful he can then be! he shakes the whole earth, he tears to pieces its interior and forms deep precipices where formerly flourishing cities stood, lets whole villages fall to ruins, destroys hundred-year-old edifices, rips up gardens, fields, meadows, forests. in a word, morphiliziy became a perfect subterranean fire and hourly curses new generations, while the good, faithful gamdela daily renders thanks to him who turned her into a beneficent shower, without which men and beasts and plants and everything that is good on earth would perish. when danger had vanished the leaves of the tulip opened themselves, the butterflies hopped out and hastened to damassek's house. there they took again their former aspect. they were married, sold off all of john's wares, and with incalculable riches went away to rome. before their departure they dug out the tulip and took it along with them. cicero's country is also favored by heaven just like ours. there they purchased an elegant house, a magnificent garden, and the very best spot of this garden was reserved for the tulip. with their own hands they planted and took care of it, and soon the whole town delighted in the splendid flower, which, refreshed by frequent showers, grew in size. in a few years the whole garden became one field of tulips. cicero's and nina's numerous children played around them, while a shower refreshed them morning and evening. nina and cicero always went into the garden at that time, and with gratefulness kissed the bright leaves, remembering their dear gamdela whom people now bless the world over, as a reward for her faithfulness and love. iv. saint nina a tale the fourteenth of january is a day of great solemnity throughout georgia. this is the fête of saint nina, who converted us to christianity. nina's father, zavonlon, was, according to tradition, a relation of the great and holy martyr, george, who married sossanna, the sister of yovenalii, patriarch of jerusalem, whose family came from koloss. he and his sister became orphans in early childhood and went to jerusalem, where yovenalii accepted an appointment as secretary, while sossanna entered the service of sarah, a woman of vifleem. in the meantime zavonlon travelled from kappadokia to rome to be presented to the emperor, and reached there just at the time when the brandjis, who had revolted, appeared in the valley of patalania. zavonlon did not let them reach rome, but turned them to flight, captured the tsar and leaders, and handed them over to the emperor. when, however, the monarch condemned them to death, they began to cry and implore zavonlon to convert them to christianity. "lead us to the temple of thy god," they said, "before having us killed. thou didst capture us and having sacrificed us to god thou wilt not be responsible for our death, magnanimous hero!" then zavonlon went to the patriarch and informed him of all that had taken place. without saying a word to the emperor, the patriarch, with the help of zavonlon, baptized them, let them partake of the holy communion, and taught them the christian faith. at sunrise on the following day the brandjis rose, attired themselves in funeral robes and started for the place of execution. they prayed, thanked god, who had saved them by baptism, and said: "we are immortal even after death, because the lord hath glorified us by giving us permission to partake of the holy communion. yes, let his name now be glorified! now, henceforth, and evermore! woe to our fathers, who died in ignorance and remained in the dark, we shall not taste the sorrowful, but the joyful fruit. approach, executioner, and cut off our heads!" at these words they willingly stretched their necks under the sword. but zavonlon, who could no longer stand this spectacle, rushed to the emperor in order to implore his pardon for them. "i give them to thee; do with them whatever thou wilt!" said the sovereign. zavonlon lost no time in returning to the spot of execution and succeeded in saving those sentenced. thereupon they began to beg him to lead them home to their native land in order to preach there about the faith of our lord jesus christ, and convert those desirous of leaving paganism. zavonlon went to the patriarch, got some priests, and with the emperor's permission departed, accompanied by the brandjis. when they had but one more day of travelling before them, a rumor spread in their country that the tsar was alive and meant to return with his courtiers. the sections of kkhozamo, kkhosa, goakchladja or gardadja, kkhonebag, kkhjirag or kindtjag, zadja, zaza, zarda, zamra and tkmoka hurried to meet them, and were reached on the banks of a great and deep river; the water was blessed and they entered it and came out at one special spot where a priest laid his hand on them. zavonlon stayed with them till they were baptized and converted, put everything in perfect order, left the priests and went away, overwhelmed with gorgeous presents. "i shall take these treasures for the decoration of the tomb of the lord," thought zavonlon, and started for jerusalem, where he gave everything to the poor. at that time yovenalii (in monkhood he had taken the name of zadass) was patriarch of jerusalem, and made friends with zavonlon, while sarah of vavilon recognized him and learned to cherish his capacities. besides, she said to the patriarch: "zavonlon is the father of the brandjis (original inhabitants of barcelona) whom he converted, and to whom he gave the holy baptism; he carried out the commands of god, and thinking the matter over, i counsel thee to let him marry thy sister sossanna" (probably susanna). sarah's counsel was carried out and the young couple left for colossus, zavonlon's fatherland. soon the bride gave birth to a daughter, nina. when she was twelve years old her parents sold their whole property and settled in jerusalem. here zavonlon was made a monk by the patriarch german (because sossanna's brother had already died), and became divorced from his wife. pressing his daughter to his breast and covering her face with tears, he said: "my dear and only child, i leave thee an orphan, and recommend thee to our heavenly father, god, who nourishes all live beings, because he is the father of orphans and the judge of widows. fear nothing, my daughter, but try to imitate mary magdalen and the sisters of lazarus in their love to god. if thou lovest him as much as they did, he will also refuse nothing to thee." having embraced her once more, he crossed the jordan and started to preach the teachings of god among wild nations, where the only god, creator of all beings, knew that the time was ripe. sossanna, on the other hand, by order of the patriarch, looked after the poor women, but was put in the service of niapkhora, an armenian woman from doroim. she stayed two years at her house, learning the laws of god, because at that time there was nobody in all jerusalem so well acquainted with the old and new confession and who had such a broad and enlightened mind. niapkhora was honorable and truthful and imitated abraham in hospitality. her house was always open to all pilgrims coming to pray at the tomb of the lord. more than once she happened to receive christians who had been jews and had inhabited georgia. from them nina heard a story how, at the time of the babylonian captivity, some jews had settled down at mtzkhet and how they yearly sent some of their people to the easter celebrations at jerusalem. they also told her that in the second year of aderka's reign in georgia, they found out about the birth of our lord jesus christ through these very messengers. within thirty years at mtzkhet delegates arrived from the preosviashtchennik (clerical title) anna with the following news: "he to whom the wise men brought presents is now grown up and teaches us a new faith; thereupon we are sending word to the jews in order to find among them teachers of the law and to tell them: 'come ye all, who uphold the law of moses and clear up our perplexity! let all those acquainted with law immediately leave the foreign lands and hasten with all possible speed to the fatherland, in order to confirm and guard the faith of our forefathers, carry out the laws of moses, save the common folk from being dazzled by the new teaching, and furthermore, put the guilty one to death.' elios, a man who was no longer young, of the tribe of the levites, decided to go to jerusalem, leaving his mother, a descendant of the high priest ilia, to the care of his sister sidonia, because the old woman herself said: "'go, my beloved son, whither the lord and his holy law call thee, but mind my remarks: thou as a man well instructed in law shouldst not allow them to have a godless intention. i beg thee--do not have a hand in spilling the blood of this man. thou knowest that this is the carrying out of the ancient prophecies, believe this one with all thy heart as i believe in him!'" together with elios went a young hebrew, longinos, a warrior from karssan, and they reached jerusalem just at the time of the crucifixion of our lord, as they arrived on a friday. when they drew lots, a greek tunic fell to the share of elios, but longinos received the garment of the lord, which he carried back to kontais (this garment used to hang in the centre of the church in a crystal vessel up to the time of shah abass, who sent it away to russia). when they began to crucify our lord, by chance the sound of the hammer and nails came to the mother of elios, and she exclaimed: "good-bye, kingdom of israel! unhappy ones--you are lost forevermore! by your craziness you kill your vladyka and the saviour of the world, and thus you become the wilful murderers of your creator! woe ye unhappy ones! there is no lamentation equal to your distress! woe to me, because my ears have heard these mournful sounds!" and with these words she gave up her soul to god. when, however, elios returned to mtzkhet bringing the robe, sidonia came out to meet him, and crying and weeping threw herself in his arms to tell him of her mother's death; and lo! she came to glance at the robe. she recognized it as having belonged to the lord jesus christ, and the thought that her brother had helped along his death filled her heart with indescribable sorrow. having placed on her breast the invaluable holy relic, she died. the news of her death spread all over mtzkhet and reached the tsar, who wished to see the dead woman. coming to her body he was struck by the beauty of the robe, giving out a heavenly glow, and he wanted to put it on, but no power under the sun could tear the relic out of the arms of the deceased. elios buried his sister together with the robe, and thus saved it from further attempts of the unbelieving. these tales made a strong impression on nina's soul, she often and long reflected how she might seek out the place where the robe was, and tried to obtain information from her governess. "my child," said niapkhora, "i see that by thy strength thou are equal to a lioness, whose roar hushes up the growling of all quadrupeds. thy capacity for penetration puts thee on a footing with the female eagle, who by her flying exceeds the male eagles and with her little eyes sees all creation; having beheld the booty she inspects it with her piercing glances, just as the fire experiments with the gold, and makes for it with spread-out wings. such will be thy life. thy voice will be heard all over the world and thy booty is to enrich god. now i will explain it all to thee. thou knowest that the immortal god had compassion for the mortal inhabitants of this world and came to earth in order to assemble around him the nations and save the whole world. his first good deeds were applied to the hebrews, among whom he made the dead arise, made the blind see, and healed the sick. astounded, they sent out messengers all over the world in order that the hebrews might most rapidly assemble at a great council. "'we are perishing,' exclaimed the messengers, 'hurry, gather ye all!' "then from all countries there came together people, educated in the laws of moses--they came together to openly oppose themselves to the holy ghost and, namely, do what was necessary to the world. they crucified the lord jesus and drew lots to get his robe. the robe was handed over without quarreling to the man of mtzkhet. thou knowest also that upon the burial of our lord they placed guards at his tomb, but that he arose according to prediction, and in the tomb there remained nothing but the shroud, which the apostle luke took, but no one knows to whom he gave it. as to the vesture of the lord, which was not found in the tomb, many conclude that the apostle peter took it without telling anything about its further fate. i in my turn am more inclined to believe what we heard from the hebrews of mtzkhet. the crosses are hidden here at jerusalem, but this place is unknown to everybody until the lord doth open it in times to come by his chosen messenger!" hearing these words, nina raised herself and thanked god and asked: "well, where then is that land where the robe was discovered?" "the town of mtzkhet is in georgia. this is a mountainous land, the borderland of armenia, and its inhabitants still continue to practise idolatry. the chaldean magis have a strong influence over the people," replied niapkhora. at that time there arrived from ethesus a woman who had come to visit and pay homage to the holy sepulchre and who stopped at niapkhora's. "is the empress helen still in the shade of unbelief?" asked niapkhora of her. "i am her servant," answered the newcomer, "and know all her wishes, both open and hidden. she would like to become a christian and be baptized." "let me go to the sovereign," nina began to ask of her mistress, "perhaps our lord jesus christ!" "let us first ask the blessing of our most holy patriarch german," answered niapkhora, and went to him. soon they called in nina and placed her on the steps of the ambo; thereupon german put his hands upon her shoulders and having sighed from the depth of his soul, he said: "vladyka, immortal god! to thee i commit this orphan, the daughter of a sister of one of thy servants, and send her to preach thy faith and announce thy resurrection everywhere where thou desirest it to be carried out! heavenly jesus! be thou her companion during the journey, her protector in danger, a refuge, a leader and a teacher as thou hast been from century to century to all those who feared thy holy name!" that very night the virgin appeared to st. nina in a dream, to whose happy lot iveria fell when she together with the apostles drew lots to see who should go to preach the faith of christ in georgia. in the hands of the heavenly queen there was a vineyard cross, which by her command was tied with some of nina's hair. the most holy virgin handed the cross to the sleeping girl and ordered her to go in her stead to convert the iverian people. the saint awoke with the cross in her hands and hastened to announce to her mother all that had occurred. with happy emotion sossanna listened to her, kissed her, crossed herself, and blessing her, let her start out, commending nina to the care of god. from her mother nina went straight to the ethesian woman, whom she began to hurry up to start out, as her heart was burning with impatience; and notwithstanding the uncertainty and length of the journey, her readiness to do everything to serve god was so great that she did not have the least fear; this ardor was not left unrewarded by the leader of hearts. he himself appeared to st. nina, quieted and strengthened her for the coming expedition. having reached ethesus, the saint, in the house of her companion, found the tsarevna ripsime fleeing from the diocletian torments together with fifty friends. soon they were joined by three hundred maidens and saint gaiane, her nurse. ripsime grew attached to nina, because the ethesian woman told her the latter's story, and the saint took advantage of the kind feelings of the tsarevna in order to instruct her still more in the faith; and in the course of this year she baptized the queen, gaiane, and seventy men of her suite. they passed two years together at the monastery of poss-rhoss. just at that time emperor maximian sent his eunuchs everywhere to seek out the beautiful and good girls and bring them to him--without distinction of rank, extraction, or even religious belief. the messengers arrived at the monastery of poss-rhoss, beheld ripsime, and struck by her unusual beauty, they did not yet decide to take her, but began to enquire about her family. having found out that she was of royal rank, they considered her worthy of becoming maximian's wife, painted her portrait and went away. hardly had maximian glanced at her portrait, when his heart flamed up with some strong passion. he announced that in the whole world there was no equal perfection of beauty, that ripsime was worthy of becoming his wife, that their marriage should be celebrated with unheard of till then solemnity, and he immediately sent messengers to all parts of his immense monarchy so that each subject might come to take part in the nuptial festivities. in the meantime the saints trembled from fear because they knew that this tsar was like a vessel of anger, sly like a snake in heaven, also not clean, and idolatrous. they imagined that the tsarevna's portrait would cause them to be very much grieved, and having fasted a long time, they prayed to god and decided to rely on his holy mercy and secretly run away from this place. and thus the seventy sisters set out for armenia, in the neighborhood of vagkarshapat, and reached a splendid town called new dovin, where the tsar himself resided. here they took up their quarters in poor huts, which surrounded the town from the north and west and were used for pressing out the grapes. here with laborious work they earned their own living. having, however, discovered that the tsarevna ripsime with her nurse and companions had disappeared in some unknown place, maximian became perfectly furious and sent messengers to look everywhere for her. his ambassadors arrived at the court of trdat, tsar of armenia, with the following letter: "the autocratic emperor to his nearest brother, friend and comrade trdat--i salute thee. thy friendship is our most faithful ally; i inform thee above all that the sinful christian nature is very harmful to us, because it forces the nations to disregard our mightiness and not respect our majesty. their religion consists of the following points: they serve a dead and crucified man, adore wood and consider it glorious to die for their lord. although they fear not the jews, they nevertheless fear him, whom the jews killed and crucified. in their blindness they defame monarchs, scorn the gods, attribute absolutely nothing to the powerful brightness of the sun, moon, and stars--saying that these are the creations of the crucified. they anger the whole world to such a degree that fathers and mothers separate themselves one from another, not awaiting death. in vain do our commands and terrible tortures exterminate them, for they appear in still greater numbers! having by chance seen a young christian maid, i wished to marry her, but she, instead of desiring to be united with a tsar, rebuked me like a dirty being and secretly ran off into thy lands. investigate this affair, my dear brother, order a search to be made, and as soon as thou findest her with her companions, put to death the latter, but send splendid ripsime hither, or if she pleases thee, take her, for thou wilt not find such a perfect beauty in all greece. i hope that thou art in good health--adieu, serve the gods!" having read the letter, trdat began the search, and soon found the saints. ripsime produced on him exactly the same impression as on maximian and he also made up his mind to have her become his wife. but the saint flatly refused him, and so he tortured her together with thirteen companions on the fifth of october; and saint gaiane and two others on the following day. the remaining succeeding in hiding themselves; among them was also st. nina, who by god's instructions hid herself in the branches of a prickly rosebush, without flowers. here she beheld a bright star coming down from the clouds; it served as a footstool to a deacon, in whose hands there was a censer; out of the latter there came such an abundant perfume that the sky really darkened. the deacon was accompanied by innumerable heavenly beings. this was the instant when the martyrs breathed their last breath, united themselves with the heavenly forces sent out after their souls, and together with them rose to heaven. "lord jesus!" exclaimed the saint, "why dost thou abandon me with aspics and snakes?" in answer to this lamentation, a voice was heard from heaven, saying: "arise and start for the north, where there is a great harvest, but few workers!" and thus the fourteen-year-old child went out to convert a whole country. she guided herself by the voice of god and overcame all difficulties: the length of the journey and physical exhaustion, and the fear of wild animals and wicked people and the cold and hunger and want! she went as the apostles went; without a staff, and just like them, she conquered kings, converted whole nations, healed the sick and glorified the name of that god who had called to her: "arise and go!" without losing a moment's time she left for the north. the dear one constantly reminded her of the following words: "there is a great harvest but few workers!" and in this she seemed to think there was an explanation of the fact that on her fell the godly choice. near khertviss her strength began to fail. from continuous walking she had become quite lame and was forced to stop and go into winter quarters--enduring innumerable privations. in time her health was so much restored that she started again on her expedition. having reached the frontier of djavakhetta she stopped on the bank of lake pkaravno, known also under the designations: pkdrnav, paraban, pkanavar, and tanaravan; from this lake flows out a river called the mtkouar of djavakhetta, from which are to be seen high mountains covered with snow even during the summer months. they are the cause of much cold weather in all the neighboring towns and villages. fear seized saint nina. "o lord!" she cried out, trembling, "accept my soul!" and she fell to the ground. for two whole days she could not master her fright nor continue her journey. at last hunger forced her to ask for food of some poor fishermen trading on the lake and of the shepherds who guarded their herds on the banks of the lake. the latter often used to invoke their gods at night. these were called armaz and zaden, and the heathen inhabitants of the lake districts promised them rich sacrifices if they only guarded the herds from any possible evil. hearing that their prayers were spoken in armenian, to which saint nina was somewhat accustomed as she had served at niapkhora's, she dared to ask them whither they had come. "i am an akovanian from elrbienik on the banks of the lopatsh-tskan" (this is the left arm of the alasana, plinii calls the inhabitants of this region loubienis), said one of them. "we are kakhetines from sapourtzle and kindsar near mouknar," murmured two others. "but i am a touissian from rabatt," added a third one. "here is one from the great city of mtzkhet, where there lives a tsar and where we have temples of our gods; in summer we all drive our herds to the banks of the pkarnav, thus saving ourselves from the unbearable heat of our countries. the reason that the lake has so many names is that each of us pronounces its name according to his own language. in the autumn we disperse to our many homes to escape the cold of this district." "where is mtzkhet?" asked nina with a fainting heart. "this river unites itself with another one which comes from kola, changes its name to mtkonar and flows to mtzkhet." she looked at the sides of the river: it was an endless plain. she became frightened upon beholding its boundless limits. having sighed over the great length of the coming journey, she put her head on a stone near the source of the river and fell asleep. in a dream there appeared to her a man of middle height with flying hair, and handed her a written roll, which ran as follows: "carry this in all haste to the idolatrous tsar of mtzkhet!" saint nina cried bitterly and began to implore and pray: "o lord! i am a woman, an adventurer, uneducated, i am unable to say much; now how in the world am i to go into a strange land to heathen nations--to a mighty tsar?" then the shining man unfolded the roll in which were written ten commandments as on the tablets of moses, and gave them to st. nina to read. she awoke with the roll in her hands. the following were the contents of the roll: i: amen--i say unto ye, go on then, for this testament will be proclaimed all over the world, will go from mouth to mouth, and hardly will it be known when documents will appear to commemorate the event. ii: make no difference between men or women. iii: as thou goest, instruct all nations, baptizing them in the name of the father and the son and the holy ghost. iv: the world is the language of enlightenment and thy glory, o israel! v: this good deed of heaven will be practised the world over. vi: he who accepts you, accepts me and he who accepts me accepts him who glorified me. vii: mary loved the lord exceedingly, for she always obeyed his commandments. viii: not cutting off the bodies of the murderers, the souls of those who are powerful shall not linger. ix: the speech of jesus to mary magdalen: "go, o woman, and announce my fraternity!" x: "teach them to promptly and rigidly observe all these commandments and then i shall be with you, in all times and to the end of the world--amen!" having read the roll, saint nina became convinced that this apparition came directly from the lord. she ardently prayed that the lord might soothe her, and committing herself to his will, she immediately followed the course of the river. at first it flowed towards the west through wild and sterile countries. the journey became still more terrible through the number of wild animals filling these deserts with their fearful roaring, but not one of them attempted to approach and touch the protégé of god. only when the river turned to the east did they begin little by little to disappear. driven on by fear she forgot exhaustion and went rapidly ahead, hardly stopping a minute to catch breath. soon after the turn of the river saint nina overtook some travellers going to ourbishi or ouriat-oubani (which means "street of the hebrews"), and joyfully followed them, but at ourbishi a disappointment awaited her; instead of believers of the real god she found people who bowed down and adored fire, wood, and stone; her heart burned with indignation, but the lord comforted her by instructing some jews to give her a hospitable reception, which she made use of for about one month, when the following spectacle aroused her feelings: she beheld a great crowd of people going towards mtzkhet, and as she heard from her host that there were hebrews there, she followed the people in the distance and thus happened to reach her point of destination upon the fête of armaz. before reaching the bridge near mogontka this large crowd stopped like one man to bow down to the fire, and saint nina cried bitterly at the loss of such a large, large number of human souls, ransomed by the most precious blood of our lord jesus christ. on the sixth of august, a. d., on the day of the transfiguration of the lord, saint nina, according to tradition, accomplished her first wonder. upon that day appointed for the fêting of the idol armaz, it was the duty of the tsar and tsaritsa to take part in the ceremonies. from early in the morning numberless crowds of people, like flowers in the field, filled the streets, shouting and hurrying, each one trying to excel his neighbor in ornamenting their respective houses with carpets, fine shawls and other such articles, all along the road by which the royal cortège was to pass. first there arrived the tsaritsa nana, surrounded by the wives and daughters of the aristocracy. she was followed by the tsar with a numerous suite. songs of praises and blessings were heard among the crowd of the nation. with great pomp the procession ascended the mountain to adore their god, who was cast of clean gold, while at his side there stood two inferior gods of silver, who wore gold cuirasses and in their aquamarine eyes had artificially made rolling emerald pupils. these last idols were of human proportions and inside of them a mechanism was hidden, through which their hands (in which there were sharp swords) cut down all those who dared to approach the chief god without making a sacrifice, or all those who adored other and foreign gods instead. on the roman bridge, saint nina joined the procession. "what in the world does all this mean?" she asked of a jewess. "this is the god of gods--armaz, who calls the people to do him homage. no other idol can compare with him, because each of us puts on his best garment to-day and holds a flag in his hand as a sign of joyousness." in the meantime the procession had reached its destination. the tsar bowed down to the ground, surrounded by whole clouds of incense. the sacrificers offered their victims. the tsaritsa, the nobility, innumerable hordes of people followed the example of their ruler to the greatest displeasure of the saint, who with all her heart prayed to him, who had made her glorious and lo! a short-breathed west wind came up, at first softly, then always stronger and stronger, and finally turned into an oragan. losing their breath and feeling choked, the tsar ran away and the sacrificers and the nation too, but the orcano turned into a perfect rain of stones--not allowing even half of those fleeing to seek shelter. stones of such a size poured down that not every grown up man could raise them with both arms, and they continued to ransack the temple and idols, until all had been turned to ashes and dust. the heathens fled in terror; this mountain, such a short time before so crowded with people, had now been totally cleared of men and upon it sat only nina, who was not at all terrified by the fearful spectacle. she saw in this a new proof of the all mightiness of her own god, and under his powerful protection she quietly lay down and peacefully fell asleep on a huge block of stone. the next day, by the order of the tsar, one of the noblemen went to inspect the scene of the disaster of the preceding day. he beheld saint nina, concluded by her dress that she was a traveller from some distant land, and with customary georgian hospitality, invited her to stop at his home. but his offer was by no means accepted by the saint. she continued her journey along the banks of the river and finding on the road an eye of one of the gods, she took it along with her. upon reaching the junction of the koura and aragva, where formerly there stood a town and a fortress, she resolved to take a rest and pass the night at that point of the cape, where till then there still remained the ruins of the church of favora. at that time beautiful, well-shaped, high birches grew there, with magnificent shady branches. they were planted by tsar bartom, who often rested in their shade; this custom was long observed by the nobility and well-known men and almost every sunny day some one from the aristocracy passed the day under the branches of the birches. on one of these trees saint nina painted a cross and lived under it in constant prayer till the twelfth of august. on that day came to refresh herself with the coolness of the famous trees, the lady of the royal court krokhana with her servant, a greek woman. the latter by the order of her mistress asked the saint who she was, what she was undertaking, and whether she did not need something. the saint said that she was "tevee," i. e., a prisoner of war (which does not mean that she was a servant, as some writers out of pure ignorance expressed themselves in describing her life) and did not tell of her real extraction. krokhana immediately invited her to follow her to the palace, but the saint refused even this invitation. within three days, i. e., on the day of the assumption of the holy virgin, she crossed the mtkovar and entered the royal fruit gardens. near the place where now stands the church of the katholikoss (patriarch) and a pillar erected by god, there lived in those times a guardian, whose wife anastasia hastened to come out to meet the stranger. she embraced her like an old and dear friend, kissed her, washed off her dusty feet, rubbed her exhausted body with strengthening fragrant butter and having offered her bread and wine, asked her to take a rest and to recover after the long, long journey. here the saint remained nine months, frequently visiting ourbishi, where some hebrews lived, in the hope of finding out something more about the lord's robe; and indeed the lord blessed her attempts. she made the acquaintance of abiatkar, the descendant of elios, whom she quickly converted to christianity together with all his family. "when she arrived," said abiatkar in his tale, remembered in georgian history, "i received a letter from jewish priests in antiochia, in which they expressed themselves thus": "the lord divided the kingdom of israel into three parts, which were owned by the romans, armenians, and barbarians. there will be no more prophets; all that he told us through the inspiration of the holy ghost was fulfilled, we are scattered all over the world and our fatherland is occupied by the romans. o jews! let us now weep with our nation, for we offended god, the creator of all beings." looking over now the books in which moses teaches us: "each one who on earth calls himself god shall be put to death!" why is it possible then that we sinned in killing jesus of nazareth? we actually see that in ancient times, when our forefathers sinned before god and forgot him, he lowered them to servitude and made them experience all the horrors of captivity; but when they turned again to him and invoked him, he saved them from need. from the scriptures we know that this happened seven times in ancient history. now, then, when our fathers put their hands on the son of a poor woman, god deprived us of his mercifulness and support and lo! our government fell to pieces, we were separated from our temples and our nationality was forgotten. that was about three hundred years ago. the lord does not hear our prayers and does not send us help, from which we conclude that perhaps this man was sent by god. thus did they write me several times and aroused doubts in my soul, to explain which, i applied to saint nina. i asked her who was jesus and why the son of god became a simple man. then saint nina opened her mouth and from it flowed out words of life as abundantly as the waves in the depth of the sea. from her very mouth i found out everything contained by the christian books, and she explained to me their profound meaning. i felt like a man aroused from sleep, like a madman coming back to his senses. she filled my heart with pity for our forefathers, made me convince myself in the truths of the new testament, and from her words i indeed recognized in him jesus christ, the son of god, crucified, resurrected, and having come with glory; nay, i understood that he was the one who had been promised to those believing. i saw many other wonders yet, accomplished by saint nina at mtzkhet in my time, and together with my daughter sidonia was converted and received the holy baptism, being cleansed of all wickedness. i received that which the prophet david had vainly wished: i heard a choir of voices glorifying the new testament, the object of his sighing; and we were favored with the permission to partake of the holy communion, of the body and blood of our lord jesus christ, the lamb that perished for the sins of the world, the best and most compound of victuals. o lord, strengthen this faith in my heart to my last breath! all that i shall after this relate, i myself heard, with my own ears from my mother, my father, or read in books, recording the words spoken by our ancestors." after this follows the story already known to us about the robe. on the tomb of sidonia under a huge cedar grew up a fragrant bush loaded down by a numberless quantity of flowers and leaves, and from its branches a whole bush was formed, under which saint nina let herself down, not knowing how near she was to the aim of her desires. all nights she passed here in prayer, and lo! in one of these sleepless nights of prayer a shining man appeared to her and, pointing to the fragrant bush, ordered her to take up some earth under it to use for healing the sick. the next morning as usual anastasia came to her, offering her wine, bread, fruits, and cheese. having noticed that her eyes were filled with tears, nina asked her the cause, and so found out that both she and her husband were deeply grieved by the fact that they had no children and attributed this misfortune to anastasia's illness. the saint immediately applied holy earth and anastasia was cured. let us now return to abiatkar's tale. during that period saint nina saw one and the same dream three or four times in those few minutes in which she used to rest. a horde of blackbirds bathed itself in the river, came out of the water whiter than snow, and rushed towards a peach tree actually growing near her bush. in the apparition it appeared covered with wonderful buds and flowers. with great haste the birds gathered and all rivalled one another in bringing them to the saint as to the owner of the garden; afterwards united around her in a circle and sang most marvellously. the saint related all these events to my daughter sidonia, who exclaiming very loud, expressed herself thus: "o prisoner; thou that didst take off our chains! i know that thou art the reason of all that hath now taken place, that by thee we are made to discover and acknowledge the past spilling of the blood of the heavenly man, for that deed the hebrews and their kingdom perished, they were deprived of their temples and a strange people took the place of their greatness. jerusalem, o jerusalem! how thou dost spread thy wings in order to protect under them nations from every part of the world, thy children only remained without shelter and are scattered one by one all over the earth! now there comes to us here a woman, born in a foreign land, who makes over our whole kingdom!" then addressing the saint, she said: "that, which thou sawest, clearly predicts to us that this place has been changed by thee into religious gardens, in which thy pupils and followers whitened by thee like birds will eternally gather heavenly fruits, singing praises and glorifying god!" the saint openly preached the message of christ, telling the people that up till then they had been entirely misled. she pointed to the grape cross which had already accomplished many wonderful cures without applying any medicine, simply by holding it to the sick people. she was joined in her converting expedition by seven jewish women whom she had baptized. among them also my daughter sidonia, and i myself helped them with all my strength, trying to deserve the glorious name of paul, which the saint had bestowed upon me upon my baptism. knowing well the jewish law, and being instructed by the saint, it was easier for me to convert the unbelieving and some of them becoming rebellious, wished to assault me with stones; but tsar mirian sent out several of his attendants to deliver me from their arms, because the news of the glory of the wonders accomplished in greece and armenia came to him and so he did not prevent saint nina and her pupils from preaching the truth, which he sympathized with. but the devil, who had for a long time raged against the true believers, won the heart of the tsaritsa nana, who kept her husband from becoming a christian. the fasts, vigilance, and prayers of the saint astounded the heathens and they frequently asked her the cause of such actions. filled with joy, she naturally took advantage of such moments to unceasingly preach to them the religion of christ, and anastasia and her husband zealously assisted her in such a time. once they brought to the saint a dying infant, whom all physicians considered absolutely incurable. the mother of the baby was a fierce adorer of idols and did not cease to injure the faith of christ, and even prevented others from accepting the teachings of saint nina. only the complete hopelessness forced her to apply to the wonderful girl. "i am not educated in human science," said the saint, "but the lord jesus christ, whom i serve is strong enough to heal him." and with these words she placed him on her foliage couch, on which, having knelt, she usually pronounced her long prayers and kept her almighty vigilance, and having crossed him with the vineyard crucifix, she sent him away, healthy and happy. but his mother, who now fervently believed in the christian faith, loudly glorified the lord jesus christ. a little later the tsaritsa fell ill and they sent for the marvellous doctor to the palace. "i cannot go into a heathen house and therefore request the queen to come to me," was the answer of the saint. nana submitted. her son revv and some ladies of the court were obliged to carry her in their arms. numerous crowds of people accompanied the procession with visible curiosity and concealed their dissatisfaction; but this dissatisfaction turned to excessive joy when she was cured and with tremendous attention did the crowds of heathens listen to sidonia, who had educated the tsaritsa in the true faith; after that she was baptized by abiatkar and returned to her husband, a fervent christian. here it will be opportune to tell why tsar mirian once upon a time was so much in favor of christianity. hardly any other monarch in the world could boast of such great success in war as mirian; he conquered much and always had good luck, nowhere and never did he lose a single battle, and he justly deserved the term "the invincible." but that which seemed to all mere luck, was nothing less than the intention of god, leading him this road to learn the truth. in the year the persian tsar sapor sent a messenger to mirian with a proposal to unite their forces and jointly attack greece. mirian consented, and soon their army, the number of which the contemporaries compare with grass in the fields or the leaves of the trees, fell upon the emperor constantine, who did not dare to oppose himself, and with sorrow saw how they ravaged one greek province after another. the clergy encouraged its sovereign, assuring that the lord would not let the unbelievers possess a christian kingdom. a dream convinced constantine still more in this idea. he hastened to become baptized and led his army by a flag on which was represented a cross of stars, surrounded, according to the apparition, with the words: "by this i conquer!" soon the handful of christians conquered the hordes of heathens at andriansora. both tsars with the remainder of their troops were turned to flight and pursued by constantine who, following them on their heels, invaded their dominions. the persian tsar, having abandoned his ally, ingloriously fled, but mirian defended the towns and fortresses in georgia until all his generals had perished; then he sent an embassy to constantine with peace proposals. constantine, who feared a second invasion of the persians, consented to peace only with the imperative condition that in case of a war with the persians, mirian should assist him with an army, but to make sure of the observance of this condition, he took mirian's son bakour as a hostage. mirian's failure in the war with constantine, the incomprehensible fear which had forced him to turn to flight, him, mirian, whom all considered fearless and invincible and who up to this time had known no fear, gave him an exalted opinion of that god whom constantine worshipped, and he frequently thought about his incomparable mightiness. the wars in which he was allied with trdat, had led him astray, although, after the war with constantine and the disaster at the fête of armaz his faith in the religion of the false gods was very much shaken, but the furious opposition of the tsaritsa nana made also this second deep impression vanish. now, however, when the newly converted woman wished to bring him to the light of truth, she was met with indifferent curiosity and cold inquisitiveness, instead of the former hearty interest. mirian had already succeeded in forgetting that impression, which the victory of constantine and complete fall of armaz had produced upon him, he interrupted her fiery, persuasive speeches with the question how he came to see her healthy once more. the tsaritsa spoke the truth. her husband knew very well what a tremendous contrast there was between her experience and all then known means of curing, and he would not believe at all that the simple appliance of a cross could have as consequence a complete restoration to health. the court ladies, witnesses of the wonder, were then summoned to appear, and very naturally confirmed the words of the tsaritsa. but the tsar was not yet convinced. it was then ordered that any one of the eye-witnesses should be called up, and lo! a whole crowd of people came to testify the truth of what had taken place. among others there was also abiatkar, to whose tale we shall now return: "the sovereign noticed me and began to inquire about the christian teachings. he knew much in the old and new testament, and thus i had to explain rather than merely relate, and so it was easier to converse with him than with the uneducated heathens. after that time he often sent for me. once he told me that in the book of nebrotk the following version was written: "during the construction of the tower of kaskinie in the city of khagkan (babylon), nebrotk heard a heavenly voice, which said to him: 'i am michael, to whom the lord confided the administration of the east, go thou out of this town, for the lord does not wish that thou shouldst see that which he hid from human eyes. leave the building, for otherwise god will certainly destroy it. in the future there will come a heavenly king, whom thou dost want to see, and although he will be hated by the cursed nation, the fear of his name will cleanse the earth of all sins, kings will renounce their thrones in order to live in poverty. he will look upon thee with mercy in disastrous times and will save thee!'" i did my best to convince the sovereign that this is the confirmation of that which we have already read many a time in the old and new testaments. he agreed with me, but continued to adore the idols and the fire, notwithstanding the prayers of the tsaritsa, who constantly persuaded him to be baptized. the devil held him still another year in his claws after nana had been converted. on that account i could not convert even a single heathen, while saint nina daily converted dozens of people, untiringly preaching to the people the truth. she continued to pretend that she was a prisoner of war, not telling anyone whence she came and whither she intended to go. much time went by, the tsar interfered with the saint and remained deaf and dumb to the prayers of the queen; and the visits of abiatkar did not lead to the desired result. he conversed whole hours with him and every time let him depart unpersuaded in the truth. once there arrived from khorossan a courier of the sossanid family, with messages from the shah of persia who suddenly fell ill. the tsaritsa nana sent for saint nina, who again refused to come to the house of the idolatrous tsar and requested the sick man to repair to her house. king mirian, who was not yet fully convinced of the mightiness of the christian god and had not entirely renounced his former religion, wished himself to accompany his dying guest, whom they bore in their arms. "through what power dost thou effect thy cures?" said the tsar, turning to the saint. "art thou not a daughter of armaz, dost thou not belong to the number of the descendants of zaden, notwithstanding that thou callest thyself a stranger? dost thou not secretly bow down before them and seek their moral support? and do they not give thee the power of healing, which nourishes thee wherever thou art? i know that thou didst convert people to the faith of a foreign god for the sole sake of trying their fidelity afterwards. glory to our gods, who have disclosed the truth to me! i shall respect thee as i do the governess of my children and cover thee with honors in this mighty city, where thou didst hide thyself under the pretense of being a prisoner, but display no more before me and do not speak about the christian faith. "our great gods only are the actual healers of the world! the sun shines because they illuminate it, they send down rain, give fertility to the earth and nourish blessed georgia. armaz and zaden know all secrets. gatz and gaim, the ancient gods of our forefathers are worthy of the confidence of all mortals! if thou wilt cure this mtvar i will shower riches upon thee, make thee a citizen of mtzkhet and a servant (mere priest) of armaz. although they (the idols) were destroyed by an unusual storm and hail of stones, yet the spot where we adored them did not perish. ytkrondjan--the chaldean god and our armaz are constantly fighting. it is known that our god once directed the sea against his enemies and that is the reason why they now revenge themselves by letting this disaster occur just as the rulers of the earth constantly do. carry thou out then, my order!" "o king!" answered saint nina, "as the representative of our lord jesus christ and the prayers of his all-holy mother and all saints existing, i am sent by god, the creator of heaven and earth, the father of all great and small beings, from man down to the last degrees of insects, through his indescribable mercy, like a piece of coal out of the stove of his goodness in order that thou shouldst learn to believe in and reach heavenly heights, the sunny world, the depths of the sea, earthly magnitude! find out and acknowledge now thou, o tsar, him who covers the sky with clouds, who fills the air with the sound of thunder and shakes all creation, who lights up the sky with lightning, makes the tops of mountains slip off or turns them into volcanoes! before his voice the foundations of earth tremble and mountains disappear like sea-waves! know thou all this and admit thou the invisible god, living in heaven, who has sent his son begotten of him, to earth in the form of a mortal man, who having accomplished everything his father wished him to do, rose to heaven in sublime glory. dost thou not see that this, the eternal, only and true god looks after the needs of the humble and turns his face away from the proud? o tsar! the time is already approaching when even thou shalt know and recognize god and verily shalt behold the wonder of light, which there is in this town. i am speaking of the lord's robe; and the sheepskin of illina, and many other treasures indeed, are hidden here, which god will point out to thee. i shall cure thy archimage just as i healed thy wife in the name of my lord jesus christ and by the strength of his honest cross. the tsaritsa already informed thee that she recovered from her illness only after she had sincerely renounced the idol-worship. now her mind has broadened out and with ardor she does everything that is ordered in the christian law--nay, that other people may learn from her righteous way of living!" then, upon the command of the saint, they placed the image facing the east. the tsaritsa fell down on her knees and began a prayer under the cedar while the saint raised the hands of the sick man towards heaven and ordered him to loudly repeat thrice: "renounce thou satan! bow thou down before my lord jesus christ, the son of god!" but from great weakness the sick man could not speak. then the saint began to implore god to restore him to health, with tears and great lamentations, and her pupils stood by her side. one day and two nights she continued her prayers, and when at last the invalid had repeated the holy words for the third time, the badness of his soul suddenly abandoned him, he became a healthy man and a christian, together with his family and servants and glorified the father and the son and the holy ghost! mirian began to fear the wrath and revenge of the persian tsar and wanted to have the saint immediately executed--alone the desperate lamentations and tearful supplications of his beloved wife could cut short his anger, and dissatisfied, he decided to seek distraction in hunting. this is how sidonia, daughter to abiatkar, and pupil to nina, relates the event: "on saturday, july the twentieth, a royal hunt was appointed in the direction of mouknar. the devil disturbed the royal heart, awakening in him the old love for idols and fire, and so he firmly resolved to exterminate all christians with the sword. four of his nearest councillors accompanied him upon the hunt, and to them he turned and made the following speech: "'we are worthy to be punished by our gods for forgetting their glory and permitting christian witches to preach their law and teachings in our country. through their witchcraft they accomplish wonders, but not at all by the might of their god. i have now made up my mind that all those who pay homage to and adore the crucified shall perish by the sword, and furthermore, i insist that an effort shall be made to increase the love of serving the gods, the real rulers of kartla (the native word for georgia). i shall propose to my wife to abandon the faith of the crucified, and if she doth not fulfil my order, i shall forget her love for me and have her put to death with the rest!'" with joyfulness the heathens listened--it seemed to them as though the monarch's speech had come out of their own hearts. they had long reflected about such an event, but did not dare to express their thoughts, knowing the attachment of the sovereign for his wife. now they strongly supported his views and encouraged him in his actions. in the meantime they had already passed moukkvar and mirian ascended the high mountain tekkhotk (in armenian tkakoutk) in order to look at kaspii and ouplis tzikke. when, however, he reached the tiptop, although this was just at noon, the sun suddenly disappeared before his eyes and day turned to night. an impenetrable fog covered all the surroundings and the tsar himself not noticing this, rode a long way off from his followers. an unusual thought weighed upon him. surprised, he wished to ask whether all the rest were also in the fog or whether he alone was dazzled, but nobody answered his questions. in vain he rode over the mountains covered with bushes, his horse constantly stumbled and fell, the trees scratched his face and tore his clothes, the tsar was involuntarily trembling, while his exhausted and tortured horse at last succumbed to fatigue and rose no more, thus depriving its reckless rider of any hope of saving his life. then he remembered his former doubts and understood whose hands were pushing him down. "i called to the gods, but they did not help me!" he exclaimed. "now i shall turn to him who was crucified on the cross, whom nina preached about and with whose help she succeeds in healing men. is he not strong enough to deliver me from this disaster? i am already fully in the darkness of terrible sin and do not know whether this darkness has come for all, or whether i alone am punished with blindness. "if thou wilt save me, god of nina, then i pray to thee, lighten up darkness and show me where my palace stands! i will accept the religion of thy name, i will erect and glorify the wooden cross, i will build a temple of prayer, following the teachings of saint nina, and become a true christian." with hearty and sincere repentance in his heart, he swore to become a christian, and hardly had he succeeded in closing his lips when his eyes opened. the sun shone for him with all its gloriousness, he climbed off the fallen horse and stopping at the place where he had had the vision, he raised his hands towards the east and exclaimed: "thou art the king of kings and the god of gods announced and proclaimed by saint nina! let thy name be glorified by all people in heaven and on earth. thou didst deliver me from peril and didst open my eyes; now i found out that thou wishest to save, comfort and draw me towards thee, according to the words of thine arch-angel. blessed be the lord! on this spot i shall erect a cross, yes, i will glorify thy holy name and let the remembrance of this marvellous event be kept upright for centuries and centuries to come." having taken precise notice of the spot he went away, but in the meantime his attendants, who had been everywhere vainly looking for him, came together to discuss what was to be undertaken next. "yes, let all my nation glorify the god of nina!" suddenly rang out the tsar's voice, "for he is the eternal god and to him alone is due glory from century to century!" they gave a fresh horse to the king and he rode home very happy, and best of all--both mentally and physically cured! in the meantime the tsaritsa had already heard the report that mirian had disappeared and a little later she received news that he was already returning. with great haste she rushed out to meet her beloved husband and an innumerable crowd of people followed after her. they arrived together at kindsa, which lies in gkartk. as to saint nina, she was pronouncing her usual prayer in the rose bush, and several of us were there with her. gradually as the tsar approached the whole nation began to be greatly moved and excited, because he shouted in a loud voice: "where is the stranger, who, from now on, will be my mother, because her god saved me from death?" having found out already that she was praying, the tsar branched off on a side road and his suite followed him. before reaching the rose bush mirian left his horse and coming up to the saint, he humbly bowed to her, saying: "now make me worthy of invoking thy god, who has indeed been my saviour!" having taught him a little, nina on the very spot ordered him to bow down towards the east and adore the lord jesus christ. but the people, who did not understand the point of the whole affair, began to be rebellious, seeing the tsar and tsaritsa humbly kneeling. on the next day mirian dispatched ambassadors to rome to the emperor constantine, with a request to speedily send some priests to baptize the nation, and with a letter from saint nina to the empress helena, informing her of the wonders which had been performed on tsar mirian near mtzkhet, through the strength of our lord jesus christ. the day the tsar was converted the saint sent to saint gregory nansien asking for instructions as to what she should do next. by his advice she personally destroyed the new idol armaz, which they had already succeeded in placing on a mountain beyond the koura, and to which the people daily bowed at sunrise, climbing up to the roofs of their houses and turning their faces towards the sun. in its place she erected a cross on a hill near mtzkhet, beyond the river aragva. but as this cross was roughly made, the people kept away from it until the lord had glorified it. while expecting the arrival of priests, the saint and her followers preached the word of god day and night, untiringly preparing the nation before being baptized, and they went from klardjet to the land of the alanes and from the caspian gates to the land of the massajettians, while the remaining pupils of the saint spread all over georgia. the tsar had already become an active and energetic christian before the return of the ambassadors. he said to the saint: "i am burning to construct a house of god, let us now choose the site!" "let thy mtavares (provincial governors) solve that question and have it arranged so that thou and the nation will draw the utmost profit out of it," replied saint nina. "no!" said the king, "i love thy rose bush and wish to sacrifice everything in order to erect a temple on that spot. i shall have my vineyards, great cedars, fruit trees, and fragrant flowers cut down. dost thou not remember how in thy vision the black birds became so white that it was blinding, and having perched themselves on the vineyard trees, filled the air with heavenly songs? now we will turn this visible vineyard into an invisible one, giving us eternal life, and let us build in it a house of worship and prayer before the arrival of the greek priests!" immediately they began to get the materials together. for the church seven pillars were necessary. thereupon a great cedar was cut down which furnished six pillars, while the seventh was made out of a large pine. when the wooden walls had been erected they fixed the six pillars, each one in a place specially prepared for it, while the seventh, which was unusually large and was meant for the cupola, they could by no means lift from the ground. they hastened to report this to the tsar, who ordered all the people to make for the building, and he himself went there too. in this affair all then known means of raising weights were used, but neither the numberless arms, nor any possible art could succeed in obtaining the desired result. and tsar and people asked each other with the greatest surprise: "what can this mean?" and having labored till night they went back to their houses in great sorrow. saint nina, however, with twelve of her followers, remained by the pillar, washing it with her tears and praying and groaning. about midnight a terrifying vision began; we saw how the mountains of armaz and zaden were trembling as though somebody were shaking them in order to block up the course of both rivers. mtkouar returned and inundated the town, by reason of which the air was filled with cries, lamentations and groaning, while the aragva flowed towards the fortress and its waves dashing against the fortress walls, made such a fearful noise that we ran away in terror, but the saint shouted: "do not be afraid, sisters, the mountains still stand in their places and the rivers have not altered their course, and the nation quietly sleeps. although that which you beheld did not happen in reality, yet this was not a mere dream, for the mountains of unbelief were thoroughly shaken up in georgia, for the rivers of innocent children's blood, which flowed in honor of the idols, dried up, for legions of demons, chased out of this region by the mightiness of the cross are pitifully combatting, seeing how their waves of wrath cannot carry out anything nor harm the fortress of christ's faith. come back and let us pray!" then all these sounds quieted down and everywhere one could distinguish silence once more. the saint stood up with raised hands and prayed that what had been begun by the tsar should not be destroyed. but before dawn the vision repeated itself, and this time more terrifying than ever: it seemed as though an immense and terrible army had attacked the city from three different sides. having forced the gates open it completely filled the streets. everywhere a fearful emotion had spread, shrieking and murdering took place. pools of blood flowed at every corner. in some places the people threw themselves upon the enemy with arms in their hands; some of them from terror and confusion turned against their own countrymen. here one was killing the other--there a second one was expiring, a third one's heart was perfectly broken by the lamentations of his family. suddenly a loud, loud voice was heard: "the persian tsar kkhouara! the king of kings kkhouaran kkhouara has ordered that the sharpness of the sword should spare the jews!" only upon hearing this cry did i begin to come back to my senses, but just like ten of my companions, i could not exactly remember how affairs stood. we were still imagining warriors turning around us with swords in their hands, who knocked down and killed everybody and everything. and once more a cry was heard: "tsar mirian is taken!" then the brave worker of christ's vineyard said: "i know that he who is shouting is in great distress. give thanks unto god, for the enemy is overcome and georgia saved, and this very place too!" she cheered us up like an experienced doctor, like a sincere teacher, like a great apostle! afterwards fearlessly throwing herself upon this regiment of robbers and destroyers, she angrily asked them: "where then is the persian king kkhoua and kkhouaran-kkhonafa? only yesterday you left the land of sab and hurried hither with a terrible and most numerous army in order to destroy the city and exterminate the inhabitants. ye northern and western winds, chase them away into the dark mountains and bottomless precipices, for he arrived before whom you turn to flight!" with these words she raised her hand and made the sign of the cross. instantly all fell to pieces and were swept off, great silence set in and we all began to congratulate her upon the glorious victory and thank god for the happy and favorable end of such a terrible vision and for his revealing to the saint through this event the future flourishing state of the country. when, however, it began to grow light, the other women fell asleep, while i, sidonia, could see how the saint continued praying, raising her hands to heaven. suddenly there stood before her a youth, shining with indescribable brightness, dressed in a fiery-blazing garment and said three words to her, from which the saint fell down with her face on the ground. the youth stretched out his hands towards the pillar, raised it and put it in the right place. in my astonishment i approached and asked: "why, mistress, what is this?" "bow down thy head!" she replied, and wept from fear. a little later she rose, ordered me to get up too, and we left this place together. in the meantime our sisters had waked up and actually saw that the pillar, which had seemed to them enveloped in flames, was coming down from heaven and was approaching its destination. when it was within twenty loktays of the ground it stopped. hardly had daylight appeared when the tsar, tortured with impatience and anxiety, hastened to the building which he was burning to see finished. from a distance it seemed to him that the strokes of lightning were rising to heaven. he hurried on. in the end, unable to conquer his curiosity, he actually ran. his whole suite and innumerable hordes of people rushed after him, doing their best to speedily reach and help to put out the fire in the burning edifice, and lo! a wonderful spectacle now presented itself to the eyes of all present. the extraordinary illumination was not caused by a fire as supposed: it came from the pillar, blazing with light. softly did it come down from heaven, supported by the arms of two angels, placed itself in the right spot, and was firmly fixed without the help of human hands. o, how great was the general delight! happiness and emotion spread all over mtzkhet. the tsar, tsaritsa, dignitaries, and people without distinction of rank or class, shed tears of emotion, all glorified god and praised saint nina, for great wonders were accomplished on that day. in the first place a blind-born hebrew, who approached the pillar, which had been placed by god, began to see. secondly, the sepetsouli (i.e., page) kha mazaepouki had been entirely paralyzed for eight years. his mother took him in his bed and had it carried to the shining pillar, afterwards turning to saint nina, she said in an imploring voice: "look, o mistress, at my dying baby, i know that he about whom thou dost preach is the god of gods!" then the saint moved up to the pillar and having put her hand on the boy, said to him: "thou dost believe in jesus christ the son of god, who hath come to save the world? be healthy and from this very day on glorify god, who hath cured thee!" and the boy got up in perfect health, and tsar and nation were seized with fear. all the sick hastened to the spot and were healed, but as many could not stand the wonderful light coming out of the pillar, the tsar ordered to have it covered with wood, which, nevertheless, of course did not prevent the people from approaching the pillar and getting cured. the work of completing the church was immediately taken in hand, and it was arranged so that the pillar should be left in its above mentioned place. in the meantime the ambassadors of tsar mirian had already related to the emperor constantine and the empress helen, his mother, about the conversion of their sovereign to the faith of the true god, and this filled their hearts with joy, for mirian offered them his friendship and help in conquering and destroying the persians. they hastened to send bishop john (upon the advice given by the antiochian patriarch evstafii) and with him two priests and three deacons. upon this occasion constantine wrote a letter of congratulation to mirian, filled with blessings and expressions of thankfulness to god, and sent him some gorgeous presents, but above all an invaluable gift--namely: the image of rouiz with five hundred pieces of holy relics. the empress helen also wrote a letter in which she highly praised the resolution of mirian and encouraged him. the arrival of the bishop, priests, and deacons at mtzkhet was a day of general feasting, for tsar as well as people were equally thirsting to be baptized. immediately a proclamation was sent to all the kristavs, military commanders, and dignitaries of the monarchy to gather around the tsar, and all started for mtzkhet. thereupon began the general baptizing: saint nina baptized the tsar and the priests the tsaritsa and princes. bishop john on the other hand blessed the mtkouar, and together with the deacons having found a place near the bridge mogoutka, opposite the house of the priest elios, he baptized in these waters all dignitaries and courtiers; that is the reason why this spot is called mtkavartka-sanatklavi, i.e., "the place where the mtkavares were baptized." farther down the river, both priests, the deacon and the bishop, after having baptized the nobility and dignitaries, baptized the people, who hurried towards them as much as possible--begging to quickly receive the great favor. just so the prophecies of st. nina, who was constantly and uninterruptedly repeating to them that he who does not let himself be baptized, would never behold the real light, awakening in them the greatest enthusiasm. thus nearly all georgians and fifty hebrew families from the house of varrava were christened. to the hebrew-christians the tsar granted the suburb of tsikhe dide. this was in the year . alone the mountain inhabitants and mirian's brother-in-law, pkeros, who had received the province of ran as a dowry from his bride, beginning from bard, did not pay attention to the tsar's summons and remained heathens, having respectfully remarked to the tsar that his power over them could not be extended to their form of religion. when, through his great mercifulness, the lord deigned to show to the holy tsaritsa his living cross, tsar mirian hastened to send to the emperor constantine the bishop john, asking him for a piece of the wood of the holy living cross. to this request he joined the wish to have many priests, in order to send them out not only into all provinces, but also to each single city of his government to educate, enlighten, and baptize the people all over georgia. at that time an invitation was also sent to architects, for it took a great many to erect and establish churches throughout the kingdom. the emperor received the ambassador with great rejoicing and handed him the pieces of the holy living wood on which had lain the holiest legs of the saviour of the world, and two nails from the lord's hands. the pieces of the holy living wood are called nerkveli in georgian. emperor constantine handed great riches to bishop john, ordering him to erect a church with this money in the newly converted country, but to divide up the remaining treasures among the other georgian churches. he also sent with him many priests and architects and having flattered and complimented the envoy and bishop, allowed them to start for home. having reached the province of eroushatk, they left there one architect and a priest, ordering them to establish and erect a church, and giving them the necessary sum for that undertaking. the priest besides was given charge of the most holy nails, which were to be kept in this temple. when they again arrived at mangliss, they did the same thing, leaving the holy nerkvelis, and then soon reached mtzkhet. but mirian, who had been awaiting their arrival with such impatience, was deeply grieved by the fact that they had been staying out longer on the way than he had expected them to do, and besides--had left in the provinces both invaluable holy relics; but saint nina comforted him by the following words: "quiet down, o tsar! it was necessary that everywhere on their route they should proclaim and firmly establish the name of the lord--while thou in the grand capital art in possession of quite as great a treasure, viz., the robe of the lord!" then the tsar sent for abiatkar, and with him came quite a large number of jews. when, however, he asked them questions about the robe they related how it was under the wonder-working pillar and added to this the whole report of sidonia, which we have already told. "blessed be thou, o lord jesus christ, son of the living god!" exclaimed the tsar, raising his hands toward heaven, "merciful and charitable in saving us from the devil and the land of darkness and having built this church, nay, having brought thy robe hither from the most holy city of jerusalem to spare it from the hands of the jews, who hath not acknowledged thee and to hand it over to our care, to a foreign and strange nation, honoring and fearing thee with all their heart!" immediately the church was begun, first commencing with the court. "let the name of our lord jesus christ be blessed," said then saint nina, "and of god the father, who hath sent his son, who leaving the all-shining heavenly regions, came down to earth, was without doubt born of the seed of david, of the branch of joachim, of the most holy and most pure virgin and her thou didst make the cause of our salvation, earthly enlightenment and glory of thy people o israel! of her was born the god man, the light of all believing, the image of god, baptized with water and with the holy ghost, was crucified and interred, rose on the third day--going up to his father, whither he comes with glory, for he is worthy of all glory, honor, and adoration, together with the father and the holy ghost now, henceforth and evermore! amen." when all were really and successfully baptized, the royal son revv reminded them about the famous tree, which grew in the court and had a marvellous power to heal even the most desperate mortal wounds. it was noticed more than once that even the snakes, when wounded by mortal shots, if they ate the leaves of this tree or the buds falling from it, immediately were healed. having found out about this, bishop john said: "this land was really and truly destined by god to have the holy faith introduced in it, and by his godly attention this marvellous tree grew up and was preserved to our days. now, however, when the might of christ had been spread all over georgia, it does seem advisable to make a cross out of it, which will be an object of veneration for the whole country!" and so, on friday the twenty-fifth of march, three hundred and thirty a. d., the tsarevitch revv, together with the bishop and masses of people, set forth to cut down the tree, the branches of which, notwithstanding that it was in the winter season, were quite green. this tree was so beautiful that having cut it only slightly, one hundred men took it up in their arms together with its branches and leaves and carried it into the town, where they placed it near the church. to the general astonishment it really kept its freshness and beauty during thirty-seven days, as though it had been replanted with a root or been constantly refreshed by living water. when, however, all the bushes were covered with leaves and the fruit trees with flowers, on the first of may, a saturday, tsar and people entered the church and with ardor and joyfulness made crosses out of it. the following day at sunrise a cross of stars descended from heaven, and having let itself down to the church, seemed to have turned itself into a crown of stars which remained visible to the whole nation until sunset. then two stars started forth from it: one flew towards the east and the other towards the west, while the cross, keeping its heavenly glitter and beauty, quietly directed itself to the spring which had been created by the tears of saint nina, and having gone up by the river aragva to a stony plateau, rose to heaven. as this vision repeated itself daily and was seen by all the people, the tsar asked the saint to explain its reason. "send thou," she said, "into the highest mountains in the east and west, to follow up and watch the direction which the stars take and, there where they stop we shall each time erect a cross to glorify our lord jesus christ!" the tsar lost no time in ordering guards placed on the summits of the mountains. this was on friday, and saturday, according to custom, at sunrise the wonder again repeated itself. the next day arrived the men who had been keeping guard on the kvobtka-tkavv, and said to the tsar: "the star stopped just above the mountain tkkot and then went down into the caspian sea and disappeared." but others who had also kept guard on the keretk, said: "we beheld a star which came straight to us and stopped in the village of bode." thereupon saint nina said: "take both these crosses and establish one on the mountain tkkot as god hath instructed ye, while the other ye shall give to the servant of god--salome, who will plant it in the town of oudjarmo, because bode or bondi is a simple hamlet with few inhabitants and thus should not be put on a footing with a capital, which has a large population, and so bondi, too, will soon see that it is a place pleasing to god." the words of the saint were most punctually and correctly carried out on the seventh of may. in consequence of the marvellous heavenly apparition, a third cross, taken up by men and preceded by saint nina, was solemnly carried to the foot of the stony plateau. there the saint, the king, and the people passed a whole night praying at the spring which had been created by the tears of saint nina. at that spot many wonders and cases of healing took place too. the day following they ascended the mountain to the top of the rocky plateau (now known by the designation djouar), the saint gave the example and after her tsar and people, rich and poor, the prominent and religious fell down with their face resting on the ground and prayed to god with many tears and great lamentations, so that the mountains were filled with the sounds of crowds praying. then the saint, having put her hand upon the stone, said to the bishop: "come thou and make the sign of the cross on this stone." as soon as the saint's command had been executed, the holy cross was well fastened to a rock by the hands of the tsar and his family. innumerable crowds of people bowed down before the cross, praising and blessing the son of god and believing with all their hearts and souls in him and in the holy trinity. even the most distinguished mtavares did not leave the holy church, the fiery pillar and the holy cross, and were witnesses of the perfectly unusual wonders and most marvellous cures. the sunday of the easter full-moon was chosen by mirian for celebrating the holy cross, and this custom was observed all over georgia up to the governor-generalship of yermolow. on the first wednesday after the fête of the holy trinity, a new wonder occurred. a fiery cross showed itself above the cross on mount djuarr, while above it there seemed to be a crown, consisting of twelve stars. besides, the mountain gave out an indescribable fragrance. this vision was seen by everybody, and many of the unbelieving were baptized on that memorable day, while the faith of the christians was very much strengthened, and they loudly glorified god. at the cross still another wonder took place. a light seven times brighter than the sun was lowered from heaven unto the cross and angels went up and down this apparently fiery road--as the sparks fly from the bursting crater. even the very mountain was shaken as though a strong earthquake were taking place during the wonderful apparition. this wonder called forth general surprise, and all those present praised god more and more, and as such wonders repeated themselves daily before the eyes of the whole nation, people from every town and village of the kingdom streamed in to bow to the cross. at that time the tsarevitch, a grandson of mirian and the only son of the crown prince revv, was taken with a hopeless illness, but his father placed him in front of the cross and with tears in his eyes, said: "if thou, o holy cross, wilt heal my son, i will erect a shrine for thee!" and the child came back to life and was taken home by his father--restored to perfect health. the tsarevitch immediately returned with the greatest joy in order to thank god and begin to carry out his solemn promise. soon a marble chapel was built, into which revv daily came to give thanks unto god, and used to bring rich gifts. ever since that moment a still greater number of the weak and sick were attracted by the holy cross, and having been cured, they joyfully glorified our lord jesus christ and the strength of his honorable cross. a blind youth who had fasted for fully seven days and had been praying as long before the cross, got back his sight and glorified god. a woman who had the misfortune of having the devil in her for eight whole years, was deprived of the power of reasoning and here tore her clothes to pieces and became idiotic--there became greatly weakened. for twelve days they held her in front of the cross; in the end the lord healed her and she returned home, healthy in body and soul, lauding god and honoring his holy cross. it happened that a little baby fell from a certain height and was instantly killed. his mother put the breathless corpse near the foot of the cross and from morning till evening unceasingly prayed with tears constantly in her eyes. "woman!" they said to her, "take him away and bury him, for he is dead, and thy prayers will be of no use!" but she continued praying and loudly lamenting without giving up hope throughout the night, the next day and a third day, and lo! to the seventh day. on this seventh day, however, in the evening, the baby came back to life and was carried off living and healthy by his mother, who did not cease to praise and thank god. such great wonders persuaded many fruitless husbands to resort to the strength of the holy cross, and having begged with real faith, they became the fathers of numerous families and daily came to adore the cross and bring gorgeous presents. not only the sick who personally came to pray at the foot of the cross were successfully cured, but also the warriors combatting far, far away from djouar, if they only implored the help of the cross, became able to defeat their enemies and unharmed returned to mtzkhet to justly glorify god. many infidels, when in great need, addressed the cross with prayers and receiving salvation from destruction, hastened to djouar to give thanks unto god and be baptized. besides these already mentioned, masses of other suffering people were healed and the unhappy comforted by invoking the holy cross, created by the almightiness of the father and the son and the holy ghost, and to them is due all glory, honor, and veneration, now, henceforth, and evermore. amen. at that time saint nina, the tsar, and the nation received a message from the patriarch from rome. just then, too, arrived a deacon from the land of the brandjees in order to congratulate saint nina and ask her to pray for them. he also brought a letter from his tsar to saint nina, whose father had baptized all brandjees. at jerusalem and constantinople a report was spread that the sun of truth was now shining in georgia and jee--from all possible regions they sent letters asking to give precise details of the wonders which had happened at the pillar and the rose bush and of the extraordinary cases of cures. having carefully inquired about all this, the brandja-deacon glorified god and went home with numerous letters containing the longed for statements. then the tsar spoke thus to the saint and the bishop: "it is my wish with the power of the sword to force the mountain inhabitants as well as my brother-in-law pkheros to serve the son of god and to oblige them to venerate and respect the honest cross!" "god doth not order thee to convert them with the sword!" was their unanimous answer. it is thy duty to convert them after having pointed out to them with the help of the new testament and the cross--the road of truth leading to life eternal and how to be thankful to the lord, who lightens up the terrible darkness of their souls. saint nina, together with the bishop, left for the mountain regions, and the tsar ordered the kristav (most likely district governor) to accompany them. upon arriving at tsorbanne, they called together the mountaineers, inspected dsrbin, tchartal, tkkhela, tsilkammy, and gorangor. they assembled the tchartalians, who were almost like wild beasts, the fkholians, the gondamakavians, and to all these tribes they preached about the holy cross of christ. but they did not want to listen, and so the royal kristav drew his sword and destroyed their idols and subjected them. from there they went into yaletia (the present mtaletka) and taught the nations of tionet and ertso (in armenian erdzoitk), who received them well and were baptized, but the fkholis (nowadays the pchaves), settled over to doushet. the remaining mountain inhabitants also refused to become christians, for which the tsar doubled their taxes and thus forced them to emigrate. it is true later on, saint avive, bishop of nekretsa, converted several of them to christianity, while the rest are even to this day infidels. saint nina started for ranne in order to enlighten pkeros, but as she approached kouket and reached bondi, she was obliged to make a longer stop. kakhetians streamed there in great number, questioned her and many became persuaded in the correctness and truthfulness of her teachings. at bondi, however, she fell ill. hardly had the news of this deplorable event reached revv and salome, who lived at oudjarmo, when they hastened to the saint and also informed the tsar and tsaritsa. the sovereign gave orders that bishop john should bring over the saint, but she really preferred to remain where she was, and so the tsar set out for bondi with a numerous suite. the whole nation rushed to the invalid, whose glance was illuminated with true heavenly brilliancy. with love and veneration did the true believers cut off little bits of pieces from her garment and covered their souvenir with kisses. the tsaritsa and the princesses crowded around her, showering blessings upon her, and with tears and sorrow they looked forward to their separation from their teacher, protector, and healer. the princess salome, kherosh avrizounelle (in armenian perojavr sounetsi), the kristaves and mtavares began to implore the saint to relate her life to them, saying: "who art thou? how didst thou come into our kingdom to save us? who was thy instructor? o mistress, do let us know the history of thy life! why shouldst thou speak of captivity--o thou happy, happy tsaritsa, who hast delivered us from the burdens of captivity? for through thee we found out that the son of god had been predicted by prophets, that after him the work of spreading the new faith was carried out by twelve apostles, and as many as seventy-two pupils. but of all this immense number, thou alone wert given and sent unto us by god. why in the world dost thou then call thyself a prisoner and foreigner?" then the saint continued: "children of the faith, tsaritsa and princesses--all ye who are surrounding me, i now see that you may be compared with the ancient women in their faith and love to christ. you desire to know the biography of his insignificant servant. i consent, for i feel that my end is approaching and i shall sleep the eternal sleep in which she who gave birth to me is already resting. take ye then the inkstand and write up the history of my life, so that your children shall discover how great your faith in god was, how constant and unchangeable your love to me and what wonders you were allowed to be witnesses of." then the princess salomee and kherosh avrizounelle began to record the events, while the saint related to them all that we have here undertaken to describe. she advised the tsar to replace bishop john by the priest jacob when the time should come. john held a final mass, and nina received from his hands the holy communion, after which she gave up her most righteous soul to the lord of heaven and earth, in the fifteenth year after her arrival in georgia, in the year of our lord three hundred and thirty-nine. her death caused great sorrow and mourning in mtzkhet and oudjarmo. they buried her at bondi (the present sidjack) in accordance with the sworn oath which she had received from the tsar. as this was at that period a little known and unimportant village, the saint had evidently chosen it from extreme humility. the tsar and his noblemen were deeply grieved by this choice, but of course did not venture to oppose her last will. v. the diamond a legend at the time of tsar artchill the first, who was married to marion, the daughter of the greek emperor julian ( a. d.), many greeks settled over into georgia, among them the painter martin. to his care the inner ornamentation of the church of stephan tsminda (i.e., of saint stephen) was left. this great house of worship had been planned and constructed at mtzkhet by the all honorable artchill, near the gates of the aragva, near the towers and bastions erected in its neighborhood for national defence. martin was a perfectly honorable and reliable man and very clever and gifted in the execution of his orders. the paints which were at his disposal assumed such a marvellous, nay overwhelming resemblance with reality, that several of the saints represented by them appeared as though they were alive, and astounded faithful and esteemed believers many hundred years after his death. on one of the walls he had undertaken to reproduce the apparition of the most holy virgin to saint nina. the latter was seen down on her knees stretching out her arms and receiving a holy cross made of fine vineyard branches. the fear, happiness, love to god and perfectly boundless submission to his holy will were expressed not only in the character features of the saint, but in every movement, nay, in every fold of her garment. the union of all these various thoughts was above picturesque sciences and naturally called forth the amply justified astonishment of the contemporaries of martin and of the very latest visitors to the temple. yes, indeed, the greek martin was a great, great artist. and therefore he loved his art so much that it seemed dearer to him than all the world put together, with the exception of his daughter poullkheria. at the period when our tale begins, the portrait of saint nina was already carefully finished off, and the artist was applying himself over the figure of the most holy virgin. as humble as he was clever and ingenious, he alone, it appeared, did not notice the beauty of his productions, and while just then all those standing about were filled with amazement and extreme delight, he sighed while comparing his master works with those shining, marvellous, indescribable, and exceptionally extraordinary pictures which his poetic imagination seemed to behold moving as it were in the air, and which were so dear to his elevated soul. how in the world should he represent the features of the most holy virgin? that was a question which tortured him day and night. every time he reflected about them he thought he could see the sweet, short, dear face of his daughter, and with terror in his heart he attempted to drive away this imaginary apparition. it seemed to him like some wicked, harsh, impossible insult. again he did his best to find a proper type which would have nothing earthly about it, and once more that same loving and beloved little face of poullkheria presented itself to him. at last in perfect despair he went to the katholikoss (this fully corresponds to the rank of a patriarch), john the second, imploring counsel and prayer. one day and two nights they fervently prayed together near the holy djouar (thus was named the place near the fountain of tears of saint nina, not far from the cross erected in that very vicinity; djouar in reality means cross). on the second morning the katholikoss ordered the painter to immediately return to his home. "lay thyself down at the feet of our great converter," said he, "and go to sleep, for i do heartily believe that in a dream thou art destined to see namely those features in which the most holy virgin must be represented!" martin went to the place appointed, fulfilled the command of john, and a third time saw the features of poullkheria; she appeared to him with some especially magnificent heavenly radiance. "but how shall i reproduce this astonishing light?" murmured the painter, and began to strictly observe the fasts and pray like the ancient prophets and other true servants of the lord. for a whole week he constantly went through all the different religious services and ate nothing, nor did he drink anything. on saturday, after partaking communion, he took a meal and lay down with the intention of sleeping under the portrait. in the dream he beheld already the heavenly tsaritsa, viz., just as it was customary and necessary to reproduce her. hastily he jumped up and drew out on the wall with charcoal the all glorious and all impressive picture. this was the very first representation of the kind, and it completely satisfied and pleased the artist himself! the worry which had long been weighing down on him was changed into inexpressible happiness and good fortune, and he hurried to the holy djouar (cross) where with tears he thanked and sang praises unto god. the following day just at sunrise martin rose, awoke poullkheria and led her off with him. hardly had he arranged her as was his desire, when an unknown youth came up to them. "old man!" he said, respectfully bowing, "i also want to work on the image of the heavenly queen, instruct me how it is necessary to dispose of thy colors." with great incredulity martin stared at him. the gorgeous garment, the graceful movements showed plainly that he was a man not accustomed to hard labors. "it is not at all easy to teach how to apply the colors," he answered. "take off thy expensive and most elegant robe and thy delicate hands will not stand difficult, exhausting work." the youth nevertheless insisted, and martin having rapidly explained to him what to do, began the work and soon forgot him and poullkheria and all creation, and was utterly absorbed in his magnificent inner world. in the meantime poullkheria followed the newcomer. he was a tall, well-built, handsome youth, broad-shouldered with a slender waist, which was pinched in by a fine gold belt with decorations of highly precious stones, and how these various-colored stones played and shone and reflected! when he had placed it on a huge marble piece and he easily and quickly arranged on it a heavy stone, which her father moved from place to place--very slowly and only gradually. the youth did not pay the very least attention to her--he was evidently worried and pulled down by some outside event. deep sighs from time to time came out of his breast, and in the end poullkheria remarked that a tear fell unto the edge of the marble slab. it now really seemed as though he as well as martin had wandered off into some unknown world and had forgotten everything earthly. martin painted without interruption for seven hours; and in a like manner, without taking any rest, worked the sweet newcomer. glancing at their indefatigable application, poullkheria became frightened and feared that her posing might never come to an end, and so began to weep most bitterly. the features of her face suddenly assumed another look and thus her father began to be thoughtful and remember all that had taken place. "enough, my poor darling child!" he said with delicacy, and addressed the youth. immense spots of paint and butter were now to be seen on various parts of his costly attire, his hair was indeed in the greatest disorder and his face red from exhaustion. martin really did not know how he should thank and reward him. "tell me at least thy name, thou good youth!" he said, turning to the boy. "mirdat." "why--is it possible?" "be silent!" interrupted the youth and went out, but martin looked after him with inexpressible astonishment. only in this moment did he recognize in him the tsarevitch-successor, the great and famous victories of whom the whole east was talking. yesterday only he had returned from a victorious expedition to rome, and they were convinced that he would soon start out again. how was it possible that during these very few days of rest he wished to take upon himself such a tiresome and dry work? afterwards he thoroughly inspected what he had achieved and was perfectly overcome by the number and variety of colors and shades arranged and used by him. "if he accomplishes his new war as rapidly as the first, i shall have enough colors left up to the time of his return," reflected martin, and gayly and joyfully went home with his dear little daughter, who all along the route questioned him about mirdat. having dined in haste and slept a little, martin once more continued his labors and was steadily busy until sunset. thus the undertaking went on day after day with the difference only that mirdat no more appeared. it seems that he had left for movakanne and soon after had pacified it for his father. it is not useless to relate what happened to mirdat upon his first expedition. the provinces of ranna, movakanne and aderbadaganne since the most remote times belonged to georgia, and only during the reign of tsar mirdat the fourth, grandfather of our hero, they came under the control of the persians. satrappe barzabode administrated them. having taken ranna, the tsarevitch-successor mirdat wished to call out barzabode in a duel. barzabode took up his quarters in an abandoned tower beyond the city, but mirdat surrounded it from evening on--supposing that during the night it would be impossible for him to slip out and escape, and so he resolved to give rest to his exhausted and wornout warriors till morning. in the night he made an inspection tour of his brave camp, and passing quite close to the tower on the grassy slopes, he overheard a sweet conversation. he stood still and paid close attention. the sweet voice, hardly hearable, pronounced the word: "batono!" ("sir.") he raised his head and almost fainted from extreme astonishment and delight: on the roof there stood a girl of indescribable beauty. the moon was shining on her and gave her long, regular features some secret mysteriousness and unusual charm. and suddenly her coral mouth opened, and from it poured out a low, inspiring and enchanting speech. she implored the young military commander to save her from the clutches of her very old father. "who and what can dare to oppose itself to thee? thou dost conquer towns and provinces. thy powerful army defeats and submits even hero princes. whomsoever or whatsoever thou mayest look at in this world, thou canst always consider it thine own, for it doth not come within thy reach only when thou dost not wish it so. thou hast wonderful beauty, common sense, mind, strength, and bravery, while i never had anything except a dear father. he prided himself in his warlike glory--thou didst darken it! he had won for himself the entire confidence of the shah, thou didst destroy it. he boasted about the invincibility of his warriors, while thou didst conquer and baffle them. thou above all didst have my way of looking at things and my imagination. thy all powerful type did victoriously enter my soul and doth drive out from it the poor, terribly degraded character of my old father!" and at these solemn words the beauty fell down on her knees. "o do not tear him away from me!" she murmured, reproachingly, stretching out her arms towards him. "there will be no duel!" unexpectedly said mirdat; he turned around and quickly went to his tent. this young lady was the daughter of barzabode, sagdoukta. from that moment onwards mirdat loved her with all the mightiness and emotion of his hero-prince's heart, and there was deep, deep grief and depression in his soul. was it possible to suppose that the tsar would permit him to marry the daughter of that satrame, to whose care certain provinces had been intrusted and who of late had been deprived of the right of administrating them? having reflected a little he made up his mind to leave a comparatively small number of warriors in the places which he had but just successfully conquered, while with the remaining soldiers he returned to his father in order to ask for fresh instructions. everywhere they met and received the young conqueror with great ceremony and delight; radiant faces were surrounding him, the joyful cries of the people filled his ears, while in his heart it was all dark and heavy. with unbelievable effort he finally forced himself to answer the general and most hearty greetings constantly showered on him with a caressing smile, and on the following day, when he safely reached his beloved home, he immediately went to continue and work for the glorification of the most holy virgin, invoking her assistance and protection. the same was his object when he reached his native town after his second great victorious campaign in movakanne. but this time martin, who had already succeeded in finishing the expression of the face of the heavenly queen and having spent some time in reproducing her garment, now took the matter more easily, and indeed, frequently watched and glanced at his busy assistant. having noticed the running tears of his daughter, he let poullkheria go home, and turning to him, asked him what might be the cause of his great sorrow. "thou hast helped me so much," said martin, "that i should really like to render thee some good service, good youth; perhaps my old age makes me fit and enables me to give thee some highly useful counsel." "thy grey hair testifies that already long, long ago the time went by when thou wert excited and moved by those thoughts and plans which called forth my tears. nobody except the most holy virgin is strong enough to make my terrible grief go by, viz., because i love with all my heart a splendid girl to whom the sovereign will never give me his consent to be married." saying these words mirdat went, with a painful expression on his face, but martin understood this most simple clear explanation quite differently, and through this mistake he let his most honest and loyal soul almost perish. this soul was perfectly clean, enlightened, free of sin, and shining like the most costly diamond. and so once upon a time, during a dream, some heavenly angels cut out the soul and brought it to the lord. "o, vladyka!" they said, "look thou at this brilliant diamond--this is the soul of the greek man martin, who hath given up his whole life to the glorification of thy name. there is not one vice which can possibly obtain admission to or seek refuge in it, for it doth entirely belong to thee! looking at it and admiring it, we are frequently thinking that upon the death of martin this diamond will be fully worthy of ornamenting thy holy throne." the sweet, sweet angel voices quieted down, while from the depths of the earth the devilish laughing and ridiculing were heard. "why dost thou so rejoice--miserable satan?" asked the guarding angel by order of the eternal god. "very soon this diamond will be spoiled, darkened, and i shall become the happy possessor of it!" replied the devil. thereupon,the good angels began to bitterly cry, but the lord comforted them. he gave commands that the soul should again be placed and fixed in the body of the sleeping painter, and also informed the angels that in case martin should ever happen to listen to and obey the sly devilish instructions and thus have his soul darkened, that they should find means to bring it back to god, although it be by the heavy, nay distressing, road of worldly grief and tears. and quickly the angels descended into the church of stephen tsminda (that is of saint stephen) and put the blinding diamond back into the slumbering martin, but after them satan came up and began to persuade the greek that his daughter had completely won the heart of the tsarevitch and that he himself would become a royal father-in-law. and thus at last vanity stained the diamond with dark and dirty spots, its shining lightness began to go out more and more, while the perfectly extraordinary and marvellous beauty seemed to be covering itself with a dark skin, and martin daily continued to give himself up to worthless vain thoughts. and see, the diamond was decaying and would soon lose all of its unusual qualities. in the meantime mirdat conquered and pacified aderbadaganne. "what dost thou wish me to give you as a reward for thy highly valuable services?" asked the delighted, enthusiastic artchill. mirdat reverently fell down on one knee and kissing the lower end of the royal garment, asked for permission to be married to the daughter of the conquered satrappe. the loving father replied with an amused smile: "as long as thou didst administrate ranna, movakanne, and aderbadaganne, sagdoukta seemed to have hold of thy heart, and it seems to me that the very best way for thee to get out of this dangerous position is to claim the honor of obtaining her hand!" immediately an embassy was dispatched to barzabodus, who received it with indescribable joy and delight. sagdoukta, supplied with a most gorgeous trousseau and dowry, was conducted to mtzkhet where the marriage ceremony was performed and the innumerable fêtes connected with it continued for many days. the tsar gave his son the city of samshrilde with the province surrounding it. besides through her beauty, sagdoukta distinguished herself still more by her very remarkable mind and, which was in those times rare, a general education. mirdat sent for the very wisest and most learned men of his age, living in samshvillede and intrusted them with translating into georgian the holy new testament, and thoroughly explaining it to the tsarevna sagdoukta, who already fully believed in our lord jesus christ, and having gone through and accepted the holy baptism, intended to have a cathedral of zion erected at samshvillede. for the planning of the inner walls a most precise and talented artist was necessary. mirdat just then remembered his old friend martin, and sent some attendants to look for him. but when their point of destination was reached, he was no longer among the living. he had succeeded in finishing his work in the church of stephen-tsminda at the time of the last campaign of the tsarevitch in aderbadaganne, received a right royal reward from artchill, but instead of returning to greece as would have seemed natural, he remained at mtzkhet, hoping to bring them to a favorable issue. he daily went to the merchants of gorgeous weavings, chose the most precious objects, and composed of them a most valuable and rich costume for his poullkheria. the very most talented and experienced tailors under his personal direction were employed in ornamenting with and sewing on these garments precious stones of one exquisite color, and besides that jewels. trying first one thing, then another on his beloved poullkheria, for whole hours at a time he watched and interested himself in her superhuman beauty, and with full confidence displayed before her the pictures of her future greatness. on hearing all these compliments and glorious prophecies the shining eyes of poullkheria lit up with still greater joyfulness. her clean heart could not understand or appreciate the many foolishly vain thoughts and intentions of her father. she loved mirdat, indeed, not because he just happened to be the son of a king, but on account of his bravery, goodness and perfect honesty. that was why, notwithstanding exceedingly powerful temptations, the soul of poullkheria remained as neat, without a sin and immaculate as when she had not had such notions; but martin's soul daily lost its splendor and became covered all over with dark, dark spots. in the end mtzkhet was bursting with joy, for a report spread from one quarter to another that aderbadaganne had been successfully taken by storm. triumphant receptions were now universally prepared for the great victor, and young and old rushed into the street with colored flags or flower branches in their hands. poullkheria in her newest attire, and by her very side martin, stood on the steps of the church of stephen-tsminda (i.e., of saint stephen). when the powerful procession came up to them, the tsarevitch got off his horse and went into the empty temple. martin, unnoticed, followed on after him and clearly beheld how he went straight to the finished image of the most holy virgin and having fallen on his knees was fervently praying. when, however, the prayer being over, the tsarevitch rose, martin ran up to him and quickly whispered in his ear: "this great day the tsar, my master, will not refuse thee anything." but the tsarevitch, persuaded that he alone was in the church, was evidently and most visibly struck and moved by this unexpected witness of his all hearty and sincere prayer. he did not recognize martin, did not remember even his words, but hastened with all his might to go out of the church, while martin thought that his own affairs were taking an unusually pleasant turn and greatly rejoiced. a few days went by, on the large square of the city a glashatai (kind of herald) made his appearance with a number of trumpeters, and having called together the people, they formally announced to them the coming marriage of the tsarevitch-successor mirdat to sagdoukta, the daughter of the persian satrappe (probably district governor) barzabode. a slight noise was heard, and a moment thereafter a cry which was sharp enough to tear one's soul to pieces and which attracted general attention. on the ground lay poullkheria, not showing any signs of life. a thin, pale colored rivulet of young boiling blood was slowly coming out of her mouth. kneeling before her was martin, who, indeed, was giving himself every possible trouble to stop the abundant flow of blood. somebody out of the crowd was desirous of running to help her, but he looked back with a really terrified glance, and like a regular madman, having seized her in his vigorous arms, rushed off with her to stephen tsminda. here he placed her at the foot of that wonderful picture for the execution of which she had served as a model and completely lost his senses. and, nay!--he actually saw how the cupola moved and opened itself, and how two angels gradually approached poullkheria. in their hands there was just as grand a kind of a white transparent, indescribably magnificent garment as the one which dazzled their eyes. instantly they took off the costly robe and clothed her in the attire which they had brought along. poullkheria came back to life and looked around with the greatest astonishment as the rays of the sun, one after another, reflected upon the opening of the cupola, and approaching slowly, the angels came down, who quickly and intelligently drew out two wings from them, quite as beaming with light as their own, and made them grow on to poullkheria, and having manoeuvred with them several times, the new angel without the least trouble raised herself from the earth and joyfully did the angels of the almighty god sing a marvellously, nay extraordinarily, sweet greeting song to their dear new companion in arms, inviting her to fly off with them to the throne of god. the new angel departed from the house of worship with a last, tender parting glance and having beheld her father, she began to implore the angels to also take him with them into the world of life eternal. the angelic song now stopped, their faces were darkened with sorrow, and painfully they announced that willingly they would have prepared for him at first a more desirable spot in the all glorious and all wonderful domains of heaven, but that he threw away his splendid chance by wicked and useless vanity. the tears ran down in floods from the eyes of the former poullkheria, and these tears of hers, as clean and fresh as the morning dew, dropped down unto the face of him who had died and brought him again to life and this time to a happier one. martin jumped up, being fully aware of and perfectly ready to acknowledge his sinfulness. abundant tears of remorse came out of his eyes and two more angels appeared on earth. they gathered these tears and washed out with them the wicked, sinful soul of martin and the dark, dark spots of vanity on this most precious of diamonds grew quite white. when, however, the diamond again acquired its former harmless and utterly immaculate look, they radiantly bore him up to the throne of god, where he is shining and enlightens with a marvellous talent and adroitness those artists who are working for the glory of god, but poullkheria guards their shining, clean souls from any sinful or irreligious infection. vi. happiness is within us a legend in the fifth century ( a. d.) the ossians stole and led off the sister of the georgian tsar vachtang the first, known under the name of gourgasslan (the lion wolf). the then three-year-old princess was called mikrandoukta. when, however, vachtang had conquered and pacified the ossians, killed their commander-in-chief, great bagkatar, and seven of his brothers, and brought the sister safely home, he also took with him as a captive the very youngest of the bagkatorian brothers, mirian, whom he had left alive upon the repeated prayers of mikrandoukta. the boy, who had been a playmate of the tsarevna, was appointed page and grew up at the royal court. as he grew older his attachment for mikrandoukta constantly increased, but he never so much as ventured to reveal to her his thoughts and feelings, neither by his speech, nor his looks, but used to go to an out of the way spot of the royal garden and there began to bitterly cry. gradually, however, as he became a man, his wooings took a more refined form and were frequently put down in exquisite verses. a large number of little pieces of poetry are in circulation among the people under the name of "wooing of the knight," for when he reached his fourteenth year, the tsar made him his body-knight. his comrades were of course jealous of this exceptional distinction and heartily congratulated him, but he, deeply grieved by the final departure of the princess, went into his favorite resting place; there a song came out of his lips, which for whole ages was known and went down from generation unto generation. the song of the body-knight (literal translation) "why did they lead me into the high royal palace, to thee as thy page, thy most winning eyes did fill my soul with burning fire. "although i descend from a powerful vladyka and am now at least the tsar's favorite knight, nevertheless i cannot even testify my love to thee nor exchange words with thee through sweet, sweet glances. "it is as though a mighty fortress was separating us so fearfully high and immobile, and my humble glance does not dare to penetrate e'en to the grand old royal window. "in love, however, i am thy slave, o dear princess, i am quite able to pick up a quarrel with the king, for i do pride myself in having just as fiery a soul, nay, just as great a heart. "both of us are still in life's early stages and the same blood runs in our veins, and if i cannot boast of such great royal fame i may at least be proud of my strength and powerful determination." and, as though wishing to give his powerful strength a fair trial, the youth struck out with his fist against the stone and lo! the rock began to shake and split. when he looked at his fist he noticed that there was blood on it, and thereupon mirian was more downcast and depressed than ever before. "what possible use can my hero prince's strength be to me when my heart is harder than stone?" he exclaimed, and again tears flowed down his face. and so from the mixture of tears with dripping hero-blood, a little spring formed itself, which flows at the edge of a precipice--then again it makes its way through high, high stone blocks, like a wild animal and, having successfully overcome them, it cries and hops about like a child. mikrandoukta did not at all share the intense attachment of mirian and took no notice of it. attaining her growth she married the shah of persia. on the day of her departure mirian came to his little spring, fixed the sword between two stones and threw himself against it with such violence that the sharp blade went right through him. his youthful body slipped into the water, but the burning blood swelled the little rivulet and gave it a marvellous power of resistance. to this well known spot from that time onward, all true lovers streamed in, and if anybody has a really good chance over the turbulent, fairy-like stream, he will take to writing excellent verses and his love will be crowned with the most complete success; if, however, he expects and awaits inspiration, he must certainly give up all hope forever and his passion will, alas! slow down and come to nothing. the first man who experienced these strange feelings and went through the whole thing was the negro nebrotk. he fell deeply in love with his mistress, and even went so far as to venture to open his secret to her. the incensed and very frightened mistress immediately ordered that he should be drowned. they threw the unhappy "darky" in the stream of tears of the stremiannoy (body-knight) and went off; he at first lost consciousness, but later came back to his senses and came out on the opposite bank, completely cured of his useless passion. as he still felt uneasy and could not think of daring to return to his mistress, he built a little log house for himself on the bank of that ghastly precipice near which flowed the rivulet, and not knowing what to do with himself he wrote down the whole history of his life, then investigated the source and course of the remarkable stream and registered that too. having thoroughly established himself in this most interesting region, he began to look after all those who happened to approach these important domains of fate, invited the travellers and pilgrims to his house, asked each one the story of his or her life and diligently and carefully recorded them. soon a whole bouquet of most varied and entertaining tales was gotten up, reminding one of the all famous arabian stories, and i can only regret that my memory prevented me from remembering but very few of them. i can understand very well all that nebrotk relates about himself. once upon a time, in the night he was awakened by some sweet, sweet singing, and having hastened to rise and go out, he smelt a strong and remarkable fragrance. he turned and peeped right into the precipice. the moon was lighting up its bottom; the enormous rocks glistened like pure silver and gold, while the water shone like the finest diamonds. with great satisfaction--nay, delight--he glanced at this heavenly picture, and suddenly his eyes were fixed on and could easily distinguish two human heads on the surface of the water. he began to pay more attention; a very handsome youth--a negro--and quite as beautiful and splendid a white girl were standing in the water up to their throats, and having lifted their arms high out of the water, they were playing with some wonderful, bright, gleaming threads. correctly these nets were fastened and refreshed with clean, clear water, and they seemed to stay in the air without any sign of motion. later he distinguished the following details: these nets of threads were fastened to an immense leaf of some sea plant and in this massive, fairy-like floor, which was all aglow with emeralds and gold, there stood a figure exceeding all human beauty. the whole scene was wrapped in a slight watery fog and a soft moonlight. the longer nebrotk paid attention and looked at the surprising spectacle the more easily he succeeded in making out that all the charm of this extraordinary scene was concentrated in the form of a perfectly magnificent woman. in her hands there was some kind of a long feather, consisting entirely of sun rays, with which in the course of her sweet swim she reached and touched the different plants and flowers, and indeed, as though subjected to her peremptory commands, they gave out an indescribable fragrance and each little flower united with the marvellous choir which had gently awakened nebrotk and sang softly, sweetly, beautifully. nebrotk got perfectly passionate, so anxious was he to understand the contents and exact meaning of this fragrant, flowery little song, and holding his breath, he began to take the greatest pains and was enabled to hear: "astkchicka! o astkchicka! o astkchicka! o astkchicka!" that struck him as most peculiar, and having once more fixed his eyes on the head of the woman, he beheld a glistening, darling little star. this was exactly astkchicka, i.e., venera, whom the tsar vachtang the first had chased out of all his temples and houses of worship, and her adorers as well as her sacrificers and those who had been so benefited by her--all without exception had to abandon her in the deepest grief and disappointment. then, however, she found two tender lovers. he was an adventurer, viz., a fisherman, but she the daughter of a very wealthy gardener. the goddess promised them her complete protection, and they without further reflections threw away their only property, i.e., their garments, and naked they went into the water in order to construct something for their kind benefactor. and see! the expelled goddess decided to rise and establish herself near the interesting "rivulet of the tears of the body-knight" (stremiannoy), and to that spot she directed her numerous admirers. having seen nebrotk, astkchicka waved with her all shining feather, and from the motions she made, a bridge really and truly formed itself. she came down to earth, and having turned around to look, she again waved with her feather. on one side there was a bush of yellow roses, on the other side one of white roses. their buds were instantly transformed and actually turned out as garments for her loving servants who were hastening after her. thereupon she slowly returned to the hut of humble nebrotk and with a new motion of her bewitching feather changed it into a perfectly marvellous, brilliant, nay, most elegant royal palace. nebrotk stood like one struck by lightning. with a clever but sly smile upon her beautiful face, astkchicka ordered her servants to lead him off to the stream and put him down on the estrade abandoned by her. but hardly had these orders been complied with and fulfilled when the pillars of the estrade gave way and broke down together with the negro. the terrible, yes frightful, cry of the drowning man perfectly silenced the sweet chorus of the flowers. the servants were frightened and anxiously looked at the water, and after a short time a half god came out of it; he was white with a golden crown imperial, in which only the fiery black eyes reminded one of the drowned negro. all four settled down in the fairy-like palace and were blessed with indescribable happiness. this was indeed a kingdom of love, unhindered and unrestrained by any laws. nebrotk perfectly adored astkchicka, and the fisherman naboukodonozor the gardener woman roussoudanna. the host was quite in love with the goddess and the servant with the gardenkeeper, although both were merely common negro slaves. but even in the fairy-like palace under the protection of the very goddess of love, there happened to be a spot especially designed for animated secret conversations between lovers. in one of these unhappy moments the conditions and peculiar qualities of the stream became known to naboukodonozor, and the fear that the magic force of the water should influence roussoudanna found a refuge in his soul. it is of course well known to all of you that suspicion is the enemy of love. naboukodonozor seriously began to think that roussoudanna had fallen in love with him. seeking the reason of this imaginary adoration he suddenly came upon the idea that she was occupied in involuntarily comparing his black skin with the most godly white complexion of nebrotk, and in consequence of this horrid supposition his heart began to be filled with emotion and passion, while after passion came ungratefulness to astkchicka and a very revolutionary spirit; afterwards she transformed nebrotk, who had really done absolutely nothing for her, into a half god, while the latter, who had successfully brought her to this enchanting resort, she simply abandoned and left a negro and slave. and during the night he walked along the bank of the stream and sang a song of his great grief, and suddenly the old cedars, the high, high peach trees, the grand old nut trees composed a beautiful chorus and an all powerful song, blowing everything before it like a huge wave, reached the palace and suddenly awakened the goddess--but nebrotk quietly went on sleeping and heard nothing. stepping lightly, astkchicka softly and cautiously went out to the rivulet, where naboukodonozor, with his back turned towards her, was bitterly crying, and blushing terribly, she knocked him over and sent him flying into the water. without a word or motion did naboukodonozor enter the water, and just so he came out--more magnificent even than nebrotk, and throwing himself at the lovely feet of the goddess he covered them with kisses. astkchicka did not at all object to such proceedings, but did not let him get out of sight, and it seemed very evident that she also was in love with him. the slave, encouraged by the concessions of his mistress, seized the godly hands and began to kiss them just so madly. suddenly, however, astkchicka roughly pulled them away, passed them around his neck and having given him a kiss on his lips, she instantly disappeared. some wonderful extraordinary fire ran over the whole body of poor naboukodonozor from this rare, but dangerous kiss. a new feeling got hold of him, viz., a boundless desire inspired him to run off to the goddess, but the very thought that she was able to treat, nay, caress, nebrotk in the same affectionate way, completely kept him from making a fool of himself. he threw himself on the ground and tried with all his might and main to extinguish the burning fire which was raging inside of him, rolling in the soft sweet grass and mercilessly treading down the highly fragrant flowers, while the moon seemed to be offended with its greatest favorite and bashfully hid itself behind a massive cloud. the perfect and impenetrable darkness at last forced the crank to come back to his senses; he then went home exasperated, most dissatisfied, and wicked in his intentions. roussoudanna was quietly sleeping and knew of nothing that had taken place in the night, and what must have been her astonishment, when in the morning she beheld naboukodonozor with a pure white complexion and golden hair. upon the question what had occurred to him, he passionately replied that he had just gone to a stream, let himself down into the water and had come out in the very state she saw him. "pay attention and be careful to remain faithful to me," she jokingly said, and went out to gather fruit for the "déjeuner" of the goddess. after a while nebrotk also woke up and asked naboukodonozor the same question. "i followed in thy steps and see! the result has proved to be the same," was his short answer. nebrotk looked at him rather suspiciously, and unwilling to believe the truth of the story, he went to the goddess to inquire about the affair and to see how matters were getting on in general. "i came to a decided conclusion that it was most unkind and unjust not to do for my real savior what i had deigned to do for thee," was the godly reply, which made nebrotk very uneasy and filled his heart with renewed passion. roussoudanna wept and wept, naboukodonozor got terribly provoked, nebrotk was deeply impressed and full of emotion, while astkchicka vainly exhausted all her eloquence in trying to explain that her palace was a refuge for independent love, not subjected to any laws whatsoever. general dissatisfaction, suspicion, grief, and tears were alternately seen and heard in the fairy-like palace. poor, poor roussoudanna could not dry her eyes. once upon a time, going to look for fruit, she went out of her way and got completely lost. the sun was already quite red when she sat down to take a rest after such a hard, steep walk. her dark, undecided intentions and thoughts concerned again naboukodonozor and the magic conditions and qualities of the rushing stream, and her grieved feelings turned against the goddess. "why under the sun do they call thee the benefactor of men?" she passionately exclaimed. "thou didst win and encourage us with the promise of thy protection as long as thou didst need us, but now that the situation has changed thou tookest my lover naboukodonozor away from me and thus why should we help thee to escape and lighten the king's terrible wrath? "in all probability his god is far stronger than thou, when thou runnest away from him. "o christian god, save me!" rang out from the grieved soul of roussoudanna. "o lord jesus christ, our god, have mercy upon us!" such was the exclamation of an old man's voice, and indeed unhappy roussoudanna soon beheld an old man approaching her and making his way among the trees and bushes. "what is the matter with thee, my dear child?" he kindly asked, coming up to her. roussoudanna naturally said that she had lost her way, that she was very much exhausted and did not know how to continue her route. thereupon the old man led her to his home. he lived somewhere in the immediate neighborhood, not at all far off, in the grotto of a high, high rock where he nourished himself with the milk of wild goats and with dates. with the greatest pleasure he placed before her his whole stock of provisions, brought her a pitcher of water, carefully arranged the sofa of leaves and inviting her to take a good rest, he went out. having refreshed herself, roussoudanna began to watch him most attentively through the gate of the grotto and there she saw that he had walked a little way off and then had fallen on his knees and begun to pray. she witnessed how his good, kindly face suddenly lit up with some marvellous, perfectly heavenly, happy, and joyful expression, and she ardently desired to find out from the poor, but grand old man, what this sudden, really indescribable joy meant in the course of his long, laborious, honorable life. at last the old man finished his fervent prayer and began to gather dates; having got together a huge pile, he gayly carried them into the grotto. the guest met him at the entrance. "i thought that perhaps you would not have enough to eat with just those dates which you found in my poor dwelling house," said the kind-hearted host, turning to her, "and see here, i am bringing thee some more still," and he put down the deliciously sweet fruits right before her. roussoudanna, perfectly astounded by such unusual and unheard of goodness and thoughtfulness, thanked the old man with tears in her eyes. "what does thy painful grief consist in?" he asked--and continued thus: "it is possible that the needs of life have been weighing down on thee?" "oh no, wise, dear old man, i have never known what it is to be in need." "well then, did not some severe illness pull thee down and mercilessly deprive thee of thy strength?" "i am in perfect health and have a strong constitution." "perhaps some dreadful worries did not give thee rest." a (the woman). b (the hermit). a: "i really have nothing to be worried about." b: "then did not regularly and faithfully carried out duties exhaust thee?" a: "no, dear hermit, for i was living in a fairy-land palace from which the following torments were entirely excluded: need, worry, work, and illness." b: "worldly attractions and habits may have led thee off the good track and restrained thy liberty?" a: "we were by no means subjected to any such rules, nor even to etiquette." b: "it is possible that the laws of your palace were extremely severe and therefore made you feel very depressed?" a: "but really, we acknowledged no laws." b: "well then, perhaps the wealthy proprietor of the palace abused his might and compelled you to do certain disagreeable things which were unjustifiable?" a: "not in the least, for astkchicka was sole mistress and administrator of the palace." b: "there now remains but one supposition, viz., that she united such people as would naturally perfectly hate one another?" a: "why, not at all, we all gathered around her in the mighty name of love." b: "ah, aha, i understand the matter," the old man unexpectedly broke out, "you came together over there in the name of love and it is most strikingly evident that there is some defect about your love." a: "thou art wrong, old man," energetically rang out of roussoudanna's mouth as she suddenly interrupted him. "i can bear witness and prove that nobody ever and so strongly loved his dear ones as i loved my excellent darling naboukodonozor!" the grave hermit glanced at her quite differently--yes, suspiciously. "my child," was his brief reply, "that which the idol worshippers falsely call love, is by no means that holy feeling which we understand under that term. their love is one of those innumerable examples of self-worship and vanity." roussoudanna's face was all red from blushing, while her eyes were filled with tears. "oh no, that cannot be so," she exclaimed with a trembling voice, "with the greatest joy would i suffer any possible privations, every imaginable torture, in order to give him pleasure and satisfy his desires." the hermit sighed deeply. "is it possible then," he said with a doubtful, inquiring tone, "if thou dost indeed truly love thy fellow men and women, that nobody in this wide world is either capable or strong enough to put an end to thy unhappiness? relate to me now what the real source of thy misfortune came from and in what manner it was able to assume such tremendous dimensions." "naboukodonozor, whom i love more than anybody or anything in the world, got to loving another woman!" "well, what of it?" quietly asked the old man, "is this the only cause of thy great sorrow? how can one call it unhappiness if this made his fortune and rendered him contented?" "some would have thought that she might like such a course of events instead of regretting it." "what is the matter with thee, o wise hermit?" she was perfectly overwhelmed with joy! "now, my dear woman, rely ye simply on me, for i will undertake to explain it all right to thee, as for me, it was a source of sorrow and doubt." "o thou remarkable man, dost thou really not understand that for me this circumstance was worse than all the tortures of poison?" "but thou only just a short time ago didst assure me that the very height of happiness for thee was to stand every privation, nay, all sufferings, simply in order to give him pleasure and act in accordance with his wishes and aims." thereupon the hermit again opened his mouth and sang songs of praise and thankfulness unto god, the almighty master of heaven and earth; and see! his happiness was founded on love, but on love to a being, a being which was perfect. he always submitted his love to the righteous laws of god; this was not a senseless inspiration, but an action free of any earthly, foolish bonds, of elevated and religious aims and seeking nothing but rest and comfort for the moment--going always by the road of honesty, truth and veneration of all that is upright and good! his love was trying to perfect itself, approach if possible that greatest example of utmost perfection which was shown to us by our lord jesus christ. "happiness is a sweet, sweet little flower," said he, "which is quite unable to grow among unrighteousness, unfairness and wilfulness--only by the lawful way of christian love to god, veneration and love to his neighbors, can he strive to live properly and give those magnificent fragrant flowers, for which you are all constantly looking and which you are as yet unable to find. following out the orders of my god it will be easy to find happiness, for his perfect and most merciful laws restrain the will of the individual man only there, where it proves necessary for his thrift and condition in general. thou, it is true, didst live in a fairy-land palace, from which all illnesses, needs, worries, and labors had been excluded. you did not fear nor obey any legal authorities, nor laws, nor customs. it was love that firmly united you all. well, tell me then, were you indeed happy and successful?" "oh! no, not at all!" answered roussoudanna. and once more the old man tenderly addressed her and convinced roussoudanna, baptized her, and taking a staff, at the top of which a cross was reproduced, he went off with her to the fairy-land palace. reaching the rivulet they beheld nebrotk gathering the necessary fruit. with despair and terror did he inform them that astkchicka now considered naboukodonozor her husband, while he was forced to serve his rival and nobody paid any attention to--yes, had utterly forgotten the existence of roussoudanna. then she asked him to sit down and told the inhabitant of the castle all that had happened to her, and in her young voice the speech about perfect endless and eternal love sounded still more convincing. love is eternal when it is well planned and arranged, it is endless if free of sin and perfect if subjected to the almighty laws of the eternal god, father of heaven and earth. all were deeply impressed, and now the hermit continued the speech and told them about the all-powerful strength of god, before whose serene appearance all false, worthless gods take to flight, and about his extreme wisdom and knowledge, rapidity of decision, mercifulness and righteousness, and see! nebrotk immediately wished to be converted and baptized. at the end of his powerful and persuasive discourse, the old man simply touched the fairy-land palace with his staff and in a few seconds it completely disappeared like an apparition. then he instructed nebrotk and roussoudanna in real christian love and in the obligations of married life and then performed for both the wedding ceremony, and having fervently prayed to the creator they all together went to work erecting a perfectly new log house for the young married couple, in which the happy mortals passed many blissful years, writing down the stories and tales of the various travellers. some of them i shall perhaps tell you of another time. to my sorrow my memory did not preserve that artistic, yes, clever way of relating, which this little collection of legends more and more clearly explains to one--bringing us over and over again to the great truth. "happiness is within us." the imperfection of nebrotk and roussoudanna came at first from the imperfection of their mutual love, which loves itself as much as the beloved. then, however, gradually as they were taught to love their neighbor more than themselves, yes to love him so much as not to offend each other and not grumble and growl over little defects and mishaps which regarded their personalities alone and from which the neighbors should not suffer, did they teach themselves and conceive how well it was to rejoice over the blissfulness of others, to think only about others, to wish to seek pleasure and happiness only for others and to put all their energy and delight in the contentment and comfort of others; this great happiness finally made its beneficent way into their souls and admitting everything they said. "happiness is within us--" and then they needed no more fairy-land castle, from which all cares, illnesses, needs, and labors were banished. they found time and also strength to live an actual and true life among all its turmoils and difficulties, to know how to guarantee one's shining happiness, and then they heard not the fairy-land song of the flowers, the fragrant song of the youngsters saved by them for a joyful, diligent, and christian life, and they rejoiced in the song of thankful young people, who by their example of love, had been saved from many a sorrow and suffering. these young people had thoroughly learned how to live a happy life and this chorus did not stop as long as they lived on earth. vii. the tribute of roses a legend in our most blessed and favored country, where the sun shines so brightly, where the flowers have such a sweet, sweet fragrance, where the birds sing so melodiously, long ago in bygone times, when neither i nor my father nor my forefathers had been born, there lived a young and splendid couple in the aule of mokde [note of the translator: aule is the common term for a very small village or rather mountain hamlet in the caucasus.] they were always most hospitable and everybody praised them, but the lord, who always delights in seeing the religious and the poor well treated, fully rewarded them and abundantly furnished them with rich presents, thus clearly showing them his appreciation for their good deeds. they had everything that could be desired: youth, beauty, good health, riches, and reputation, they sincerely loved one another and their inner happiness was as great as their outer appearance and great success. their children were healthy, clever, good and lovely to look at. their elder son, little timitch, distinguished himself especially through his strength and ability; he was endowed with most fiery eyes, once sparkling like flashes of lightning, then again as soft and innocent as the eyes of a young mountain goat. for nine years the happy husband and wife lived thus, when suddenly between the aules of mokde and khamki a very bloody strife ensued and led to much destruction of life and property. during this strife, when the father of timitch was mercilessly killed as well as his brothers and sisters, while the mother was taken prisoner and led off as a captive, timitch himself was saved by some inexplicable wonder and soon became the favorite and greatest pride of the whole aule. in the meantime his mother, who was still a beautiful and youthful woman [in our country the women can be married at the early age of twelve] was sold and taken away to turkey, where her wonderful appearance was the chief ornament of the sultan's harem. in this select collection of beautiful and highly attractive women, her good looks and sweet disposition cast a dark shadow over all the rest--just as our bright sun dims all other planets. the sultan got perfectly wild with delight over her, and he incessantly showered most precious weavings, gorgeous carpets and splendid stones of one color and priceless shawls--in a word everything that the rich, rich east could produce lay at her graceful feet. nevertheless in the midst of all these flatteries and endless temptations she always remained faithful to her husband. it needed a marvellous mind and character like hers, while utterly refusing to fulfil the wishes of the sultan, to still remain the governess of his heart and the immediate object of his kind and thoughtful attention. in these proceedings a lucky circumstance firmly assisted her--viz., the fact that she had been preparing herself to become a mother already four months before, when she happened to be taken prisoner. the loving and enchanted sultan decided to patiently await the birth of the baby, which was foreign to him, and then marry his unusual captive, who was of royal blood and thus fully had the right to be an empress. the nearer she approached the time when a child should be born, the gayer the future sultana became, so that those surrounding her really imagined that she had forgotten her husband. but oh, how terribly mistaken they were! indeed, the eventful day came and a daughter tousholi was born. when they brought her the baby she long looked at it and tears came in floods out of her magnificent eyes, afterwards she made the sign of the cross on it and gave orders that it should be carried off. "call samson to me," she said. samson was the eunuch, given and attached to her personal service by the sultan and who had faithfully done his duty by her side. she knew how to win his esteem and confidence, especially as he was himself a christian (of course quite secretly). when he arrived she ordered him to take up the opakalo (probably a kind of eastern fan) and protect her, while sleeping, from uncomfortable and noisy flies; but she did not want to sleep--this was simply a sly device to make everybody leave her apartment and get out. she profited by this occasion to tell samson the following facts: "samson, to thee i trust the new-born daughter tousholi, promise me if possible secretly to make a christian of her, as sincere and earnest in her belief as thou thyself. among all these unbelievers thou wert not a slave to me, but a true and faithful friend and a tender and thoughtful brother. by the almighty mercifulness of god i am destined to live not much longer, for i hope to-day already to be able to unite myself with my dear husband, while thee i ask to take the place of this dear orphan's parents. thou knowest my whole history, my strength does not enable me to speak to thee as freely as i should like. for the sake of the outward appearance i shall leave tousholi nominally to the care of the sultan, and i am convinced that at first everything will go right with you. when, however, your situation changes, i hope indeed that you may find means to return to mokde and look up my first-born child, whose natural obligation it is to be the powerful protector of his defenceless sister and her very aged educator, but now give me my little kindjall (caucasian dagger)--fear nothing, i shall not cut myself open, for i have not even the strength to do that." samson placed in her now feeble hands the handsomely ornamented little kindjall, artistically decorated with precious stones and fastened to a most gorgeous girdle. this was the wedding present of her husband and she never left it out of her sight. the submissive old man, through his tears beheld how the face of the sick woman suddenly lit up and how, her eyes flashing with some extraordinary fire, she bravely pulled the little kindjall out of the sheath and put its thin blade, which was as sharp as the tongue of a snake, up to her lovely mouth. "she sincerely kisses it," thought samson, and quieted himself; but the precious little kindjall had yet another resemblance with the tongue of a snake, of which the faithful servant knew nothing. it was indeed poisoned! having heroically swallowed the deadly poison, the sick woman commanded samson to instantly inform the sultan that she desired to see him. the all-powerful adorer of this christian heroine immediately made his appearance and was utterly distressed when he saw the signs of approaching death already marked on her magnificent features. in his anger against those standing about, he threatened them with perfectly atrocious punishment if they did not that moment find doctors able to bring his favorite back to life. in the meantime with a weak but expressive and comprehensible movement of her hand, the patient showed that she desired to be left alone with him. all the rest disappeared in a second and she broke out thus: "my minutes are counted, i am dying, not paying you back in any way for your innumerable marks of kindness to me, and nevertheless i wish to ask yet another favor of you: be a father to my new-born daughter! it is my firm and irrevocable wish that my true and ever-faithful samson shall stay by her and bring her up in none but my own dear religion; when, however, you are tired of her, simply send them to mokde to my son timitch, and even if he be no longer living, i am fully convinced that the excellent daughter of my loving husband will always find protectors and friends among the good and kindly inhabitants of mokde." with these serene words she breathed her last breath. the tremendous fury and utter despair of the sultan went beyond any description. the court body-doctor and the arifa (i.e., the lady who administrates the harem) were hung without delay, but samson and his sweet little pupil were given very fine and expensive apartments with magnificent board. every ten days the old man was obliged to bring little tousholi to the sultan, who having tenderly caressed her and given riches to the faithful servant, let them retire, giving the strictest orders that those who surrounded them should never hinder, trouble, or disturb them in any way. thus three long years easily went by. the childish features of the face of tousholi now acquired a most striking resemblance with the marvellously beautiful features of her late mother. the courtiers began to notice repeatedly that the sultan after a time had fallen in love with her, was earnestly reflecting about something and frequently sighing. thus the visits, which used to last but a few minutes, now became very long indeed, while little tousholi, with her childish caresses, gained the affection of the sultan more and more. immediately two parties sprang up: the first, wishing to make tousholi their excellent instrument in order to get the upper hand and overrule the sultan, and thus naturally, constantly and unceasingly chanting her praises and flattering her to the skies; the second, which had resolved to make her perish and from this reason never letting one occasion go by without trying to snap at her and pull her down from her exalted position. during the fearful struggle of these two desperate parties, tousholi's childhood went by and she was already a grown-up maiden, when the kind-hearted sultan died. his successor by chance belonged to the dangerous and inimical party, and so the sharp and careful samson began to energetically demand to be allowed to go away to mokde. the permission to start for the home journey was given with great joy and satisfaction, and very soon they had already arrived at mokde. here there was no difficulty in finding out timitch. he was known by young and old alike. the old servant silently took from tousholi's baggage that precious girdle with the kindjall, which he had handed to her mother just a few hours before her untimely death and passed it to timitch, drawing his attention to a splendid all-sparkling round tablet. on it were inscribed the dear names of his glorious parents. "this is the remarkable girdle which was always around the waist of my all-beloved mother!" cried out the youth. "well, say now i prythee where is she staying? how can i possibly reward thee--oh, thou grand old man? art thou sent by her?" "i verily came to this memorable village by her sacred will," reverently answered samson. "while dying she ordered me to lead thy sister to thee and hand her over to thy mighty care and protection." "what, my sister? well, well, is it possible that not all sisters and brothers perished together with their splendid father?" saying this he closely looked at the young girl and was evidently struck and impressed by her perfectly unusual beauty. "the resemblance with your mother ought to be sufficient to convince you of the truth of my words." afterwards innumerable questions and answers were mutually exchanged. the old man and tousholi settled down in the house of timitch and samson heartily rejoiced, seeing soon how the youngsters became friends. but nevertheless there was nothing to rejoice about! the twenty-year-old timitch, fiery, not given to reflections, unaccustomed to restrain himself in any way, was entertaining such intentions as would make samson's hair stand on end if he thoroughly understood their meaning. what is there strange in the fact that the twelve-year-old tousholi was unable to guess at the thoughts of her brother and firmly trusted him in everything with all her simple childish sincerity of soul. the passionate attraction of timitch grew not with days, but with hours, and once during a promenade, without being at all disturbed by the presence of grave old samson, he actually went as far as to tell her of his peculiar intentions. samson, astonished and disapproving the plan, threw himself in between the young people and was stupefied when seeing a dagger pointed towards him, but the terrified tousholi speedily hid herself near a precipice. seeing the immediate danger, the dying faithful samson cursed the wicked and lawless boy, and lo! suddenly a great wonder took place. timitch was transformed into a wind and began to crazily blow and whistle over the precipice, but the submissive and ever loyal servant was turned into a gigantic rose bush, in the midst of which a rose of unusual size was growing and constantly blooming. by the will of god, angels with marvellous, all-glorious singing slowly let themselves down into the precipice, majestically lifted out from it the magnificent body of tousholi and carefully placed it in the very centre of the superb rose, the all-fragrant leaves of which gradually closed up and thus buried inside of them the deceased. attracted by the all-glorious angelic singing, the faithful inhabitants of mokde ran together in crowds to the rose and many of them clearly saw how the angels gracefully interred tousholi in the rose. but timitch could by no means quiet down; with anger and greatest passion he threw himself upon the rose bush and wished to break it down, but the more he shook the lovely branches, the closer and firmer did they stick to the rose and the better did they defend her from his unjustified attacks and depredations. when, however, he finally succeeded in carrying off the tender, tender leaves of the rose, tousholi was no more to be seen, for her body had completely evaporated in the marvellous fragrance. the religious inhabitants of mokde enclosed the beloved holy rose with a very massive stone wall, called this spot tousholi, and yearly when the first beautiful rose came out they celebrated a fête, which has quite a character of its own and is popularly known as "the tribute of roses." the ceremony consists of the following points: every young girl gathers a tremendous full bunch of rose leaves and standing one behind the other, they await the exit of the very oldest man in the village. he comes out, dressed in a white suit and bearing in his hand a white flag, the point of which is richly decorated with roses and covered with sweet little bells, while at the end a large wax candle burns. putting himself at the head of the procession, the old man gives a solemn signal and the procession duly and martially directs itself towards tousholi; behind it at a considerable distance followed young people, leading sheep and bringing along with them the customary offerings, i.e., horns, balls, hatchets, silks, etc. the procession winds around tousholi three times with beautiful singing in which is described in detail all that we have mentioned above--then the girls in their turn enter through the great fence and put down in a certain place their splendid fragrant offerings, softly adding: "saint tousholi, help and assist me! holy samson, shield and protect me from the cursed timitch and all of that kind!" on the top of a pretty mound, formed by the magnificent rose leaves, the old man solemnly fixes his standard, saying: "saint tousholi, make me wise, holy samson, help me to guard and defend all these tender maids from the cursed and all-hated timitch and all those who follow his wicked example!" after this earnest speech the old man sits down at the foot of the graceful flag, while at his own feet the young girls settle down. then the young people enter the enclosure and kneeling on one knee pronounce a most reverential greeting discourse to the hermit and the maidens and then they turn about and face an opposite corner, where they curse timitch who hath wickedly cast a dark shadow over their beloved aule; afterwards they cut up the sheep and gayly feast with all those present. when i was but a very small boy i happened to be in this place and was favored with seeing with my own eyes one or two roses inside the enclosure, which it appears is existing even in our advanced and enlightened days. these roses are really unusually large in size, but nevertheless neither a grown-up girl nor even a new-born youngster can possibly find place inside the flower. i understand that at that time they used to say with regret, that the fête of "the tribute of roses" did not repeat itself yearly! thus little by little ancient customs disappear and antique amusements are superseded by new ones, which are not always successfully chosen; only grim timitch never changes, for he is quite as restless now as ever before, here moves and weeps like a child, there makes a row, yes rebels like a robber and lawlessly destroys whole buildings. his dislike for roses never ceases, and as soon as he sees a sweet little flower he immediately begins to blow around it with impatience and anger until he hath scattered the beautifully fragrant leaves far and wide over the country. now the story of tousholi is already forgotten, but her name, among the chechenzes, is given to all such interesting places, where they go to make sacrifices and fervently pray. viii. the lot of the holy virgin a tradition when, by the special wish of the lord, the apostles drew lots to decide who was to go out into foreign lands and preach the gospel of christ, the enlightenment of georgia fell to the share of the holy virgin. the lord appearing to her exclaimed: "my mother, taking into account thy desires, i have come to the conclusion that this nation is more worthy than all others to have a place in the list of heavenly joys and blessings. send thou then into this fine country, which hath fallen to thy lot, andrew the first and hand him thy picture, which, from being placed against thee, represents thine holy face!" then the most holy mother of god announced to the apostle: "my dear pupil andrew, i am very much grieved by the fact that the faith of the name of my son is not being preached nor advanced in the country, whose enlightenment hath fallen to my lot. when, however, i desired to start out for the journey my son and my god appeared to me and ordered that i should send to my separate province with thee my image and his, so that i should be the real cause of the conversion of these people and be their everlasting and ever tender helper and protector." "most holy one, yes, let at all times the will of thy godly son and thine be carried out and fulfilled to the satisfaction of all the world." then the most holy virgin washed her face and having pressed it well against a platter, she left on it her reproduction with her predicted son in her arms. having handed the image to saint andrew, she said: "yes, may the mercifulness and the overwhelming help of him who was born of me be with thee everywhere where thou choosest to go. i myself will invisibly help to increase the complete success of thy preaching tour and my province of future enlightenment will always remain under my constant, nay, never ceasing care and protection." the holy apostle, having thereupon fallen at the feet of the most holy virgin, thanked her with tears in his eyes and joy in his heart, went to preach the faith at trebizond, taking along with him simon the canonite. but here they did not remain long and continued their journey to edjis. seeing the perfect craziness of those stupid inhabitants, who were more like entirely senseless animals, the apostle directed himself towards georgia, and arriving in great adtchara, began his holy work; for even here the inhabitants did not profess the faith of the only true and real god and committed deeds which were so shameful that it is unsuitable even to refer to them in any imaginable way. they showered many indignant insults upon the apostle, who simply and most patiently bore them all with the help of god and by being occupied in constant prayer before the image of the most holy virgin--and lo! the lord fulfilled the ardent desire of his heart and brought the inhabitants upon the righteous way, but on the spot where the reproduction of the mother of our god was standing, there appeared an abundant and truly splendid fountain flowing to this day, and in which the saintly apostle baptized the inhabitants, who had gathered there from all the surrounding towns and villages. he blessed and ordained the deacons and priests, explained to them in detail the holy principles of the faith as well as the church laws and successfully constructed there a church in honor of the holy virgin mary. when, however, he wished to leave, the adoring people stopped him with the following remarkable words: "if thou art actually going away, leave us at least the image of the mother of our god as a place of refuge and protection in case of trouble and need." then the saint ordered made a platter of just the same size as the image and put them together. immediately the reproduction was transferred to the new slab without any injury to the former image. immediately afterwards, the apostle handed the newly made image to the inhabitants, who, having received it with joy, placed it with great honors in their fine church, where it hath remained to the present day. then they said good-bye to the splendid apostle, thanking him for his many good deeds, kissing him with true love and affection, and with him they sent one of the newly converted by the name of matata. going through the valley of kkeniss-tskall he led saint andrew up to the summit of a mountain, on which the saint formally erected a cross in honor of our blessed lord jesus christ and that was the reason why this exceptionally favored mountain began to be universally called "rouiss-djouar," which means, "the iron cross." after that they went down into the valley of odzrche and soon reached the frontiers of samtske, where they took up their headquarters in the village of mount zaden. seeing that the inhabitants over there bowed down to and wickedly worshipped idols, they sincerely prayed to the image, which had triumphantly accompanied them everywhere and instantly all idols fell and were broken to pieces. then they continued their route to astbour, which was formerly called tchoukall-tchett (the river of lilies) in armenian and really lies just opposite sakrisse, and arranging themselves, they settled down to rest near an idolatrous temple, nowadays dzvel-eklesia. at that time this country was administrated by a widow by the name of samsgvari, which means "frontier," who had but one son and he too had just died among the depressed and mourning subjects of his mother. that same night from the guarding fortress a powerful light was seen over that spot where the image of the mother of our god was placed, and at sunrise people were immediately sent to find out who was there and what their business was. returning to the city, the envoys announced to samsgvari, that it was the light from the reproduction of some wonderful virgin, whom two foreigners had evidently brought with them; that they knelt and prayed before this strange image and that they preached the faith of a new god, who could make the dead rise. the widow immediately sent for the saints and questioned andrew: "who are thou, whence didst thou come and what in the world is the new faith about which thou speakest so much, for verily i say unto you, up to this time nothing approaching it in the very least has ever been heard of?" "i arrived from jerusalem," energetically answered the apostle, "and am the servant of our lord jesus christ, who doth make the dead rise again. i preach about him as about god and the king of all kings. know ye then that he who believeth in him and lets himself be baptized in the name of the father and the son and the holy ghost will receive all he asketh for with true faith and will be healed of every illness." upon hearing these sounding words, samsgvari fell at his feet with tears in her eyes and cried out: "oh, have thou pity for my widowhood and terrible unhappiness and with the strength of thy god bring back my only son to life. i will duly carry out and fulfill to general satisfaction everything that thou commandest me to do, without uttering the slightest objection, only in order that i may behold again my dear son alive, for he is the only descendant of our great family, for i have really no other children." "well, if thou believest in jesus christ, the son of god, the only true god, he will certainly give thee all that thou dost ask of him with faith." then the widow with tears of joy said to the saint: "o servant of the only real and true god, i do sincerely believe in jesus christ, of whom thou preachest and whose holy name thou announcest to the world at large. i, however, beg thee to increase my strength of belief in him, the saviour of the world." having heard these sincere words with pleasure, the apostle chased away the musicians and the curious, leaving only samsgvari and her relations, and taking the image of the most holy virgin, he placed it on the corpse of the little child and falling on the ground he began to pray, the tears abundantly streaming down the fine features of his fervent face, and with many sighs he stretched out his arms towards the image and then rose, took the little boy by the hand, and truly! the boy seemed to awake as though from sweet slumber, and saint andrew handed him over to his mother. all those present were silent--so struck were they with surprise, while the widow, seeing her beloved son restored to life, was filled with utmost joy, jumped up and threw herself at the feet of the saint, gratefully thanking him and covering his knees with tears. she, with all her heart, believed in the lord jesus and was baptized with her son and all his household. afterwards she sent out her servants to all the samtsetskian mtavares with official letters, containing the following passages: "i, samsgvari, the widow of your kristav, do joyfully announce to you, my brethren, a most happy event for all nations, for there arrived from a strange land, a man who preacheth the faith of a new god, the reproduction of whom made my blessed son arise from the dead; hasten ye therefore, so that we may choose the only true and sincere faith and decide whom it becomes us to obey and adore." having heard of this wonder, the meskhians rushed in from every spot of the monarchy in such numberless crowds that they actually filled the whole valley of sakriss, and they all stared with perfect astonishment at the risen son of samsgvari. but the sacrificers of artemis and apollo, the temple of which was situated in that part of the country, firmly resolved to oppose themselves to the saint and cried out: "artemis and apollo are great gods," and after them many of the people shouted the same, while others nevertheless exclaimed: "we must all necessarily submit before such an unusual wonder!" rebelling and quarrelling in every way began to make itself felt. in the end it was decided to open the gates of the temple, to solemnly place the holy image between the idols, to set up proclamations on both sides of the gates, place guardians and pass the night in religious prayers. "pray all you want to your false gods," said the faithful followers of him whose religion conquereth all others, "we, however, will pray to our only real and true god, the lord jesus christ, and at sunrise we shall see: if your gods get the upper hand and are victorious, we will follow your example. if, however, they are defeated by our god, then let all present give praises unto him the only one." having carried out everything according to the agreement, at very sunrise they opened the doors of the temple and beheld the idols, fallen and broken to pieces in the dust, while the image of the mother of our god was surrounded with glitter and light like the sun. then they understood the importance of the new religion and the whole nation unanimously exclaimed: "great is the god of christians, preached about by the holy apostle andrew," but the sacrificers begged the saint to forgive them their sin of unbelief, and all having assured him of their repentance, were baptized in the name of the father and of the son and of the holy ghost and loudly sang praises unto god, who had safely saved them from the deadly grasp of the merciless devil. then saint andrew made up his mind to go into other wild countries and preach the principles of the new testament, but the widow and the nation implored him not to go away from them until he had successfully taught them all the laws of the faith. every single day the nation gathered in tremendous crowds and the apostle carefully explained to them the rules and details of the religion and all the necessary church rules, consecrated for their service a bishop, many priests and deacons and again started for his great and dangerous mission. samsgvari and the nation renewed their ardent entreaties, but the saint tenderly replied to them: "my dear children, do not lead me into temptation, for my duty calls me and prescribes to me to render also other cities and villages happy." "well, if thou must absolutely abandon us," they mournfully answered, "so leave us at least the image of the most holy virgin to strengthen our never-ceasing confidence in the new faith and as a means of mutual protection." "this image," said saint andrew, "formed itself from simply being touched by the body of the mother of our god," and he went on explaining to them how by the extreme condescension of the lord the apostles drew lots to find out where each one should go to preach and that samtsketia fell to the share of the virgin mary. he joyfully related how instead of herself she had sent her portrait into the provinces belonging to her sphere of enlightenment as a means of confirmation and protection to the true believers and promised that she would always be with them in spirit and soul now, henceforth and evermore. messkhi and samsgvari, having found out that they were under the spiritual regency of the heavenly tsaritsa, were filled with indescribable joy, but the desire to be able to possess her image made them still more radiant. with tears of emotion in their eyes they solemnly placed it in a small church, which had been speedily constructed and consecrated in the name of the holy atskourian virgin. nowadays they usually call this church "dzvelle-ekletsia," that is "ancient church," as the present edifice is built of stones which had served to construct the first church and stands on exactly the same spot. then saint andrew went to preach the holy gospel in nigalia, djavakhetia, artakanna and kola, where he remained very long, enlightening the depraved unbelievers. from there he directed himself to klardjetta, then to the land of parthia, armenia, and for the fête of easter safely arrived at jerusalem. when, however, tsar aderke discovered that the kartlians and messkhians had finally abandoned the faith of their forefathers, he sent several kristaves to them, who by force officially obliged many to return to a régime of darkness and falseness. nevertheless some true and faithful followers succeeded in concealing images and crosses and loudly praised god that the apostle was no longer in their presence. the tsar, however, grew very angry against the kristave of klardjette for his not having held up the saint, who, passing easter day together with the remaining apostles, again bravely started on a large preaching tour in georgia. crossing the lands lying near fao as the choroke, he thoroughly inspected the villages, preaching everywhere and to everyone the holy gospel of christ, and soon reached svanetia. here at that time a woman reigned, who accepted the apostle's saintly blessing with false and pretended good feelings. matata with the remaining pupils stayed in these domains, but saint andrew and saint simon went farther to ossetia, where they got to the town of posstaphore and from there they soon successfully arrived at the bosphorus, where with the almighty and conquering help of god they were favored with the gift of being able to accomplish many wonders, and converted to the only real and true faith and baptized tremendous numbers of people. afterwards they went back to abkhazetia and farther to the city of sebasst, the present tikkoum, where many more unbelievers were also converted to the religion of christ. here saint andrew left simon the canaanite with several good pupils and continued his route to djivetta, peopled by a wild vile nation, filled to overflowing with disgraceful sinfulness, love of cruelty and without any religious feeling whatever. they actually did not want to listen to him and unanimously made up their minds to kill him, but lo! the lord protected his faithful servant, ordering him to instantly depart from the wretched creatures. but this nation remained in unbelief to this day. the tomb of simon the canaanite is in nikopsia, between abkhezethe and djikerk, on the frontier of greece. having confirmed the abkhazians and megroes in the new faith, saint andrew left entirely for skythia. soon afterwards tsar aderke died and the kingdom of georgia was divided among his two sons bartomme and kartamme. during their rigid administration in the year a. d., a rumor began to gain ground that the inhabitants, who were under the supreme authority of rome, absolutely refused to submit themselves to the emperor vespasian and energetically rebelled. the emperor ordered his son fitt to persuade the jews to quiet down, but they did not cease to make a fearful row and locked themselves up with their army in jerusalem. then the romans surrounded this town and began to mercilessly besiege it. the besieged were suffering from terrible hunger and diseases and the nation from despair began a terrific civil war. in a short time there perished such a quantity of hebrews, that they threw one hundred thousand corpses out of the town; besides that the streets and houses were filled to overflowing with dead people. in the end the romans made their way to jerusalem, ruined it completely and destroyed the temple, so that according to the holy words of the saviour, not one stone remained on top of another. ever since then the jews have overrun every part of the world and no longer have any own fatherland. many of them arrived at mtzkhet and settled down with their compatriots, among whom were also the sons of varrava, delivered by the hebrews instead of jesus christ, when they were invited to let one of their prisoners free. during the reign of the grandsons of bartome and kartaume the kings azork and armazeli, the latter found out about the existence in his monarchy of the miloti of the prophet ilia and instantly gave orders to look for it among the jews, but the lord did not allow this extreme treasure to fall into the hands of the ruthless pagans, his searchings finally turned out to be vain attempts and to all questions the hebrews simply answered that it was concealed in the earth near a magnificent cedar, which had grown over the tomb of sidonia. consequently saint nina more than once commanded abiatkar to question his father where it indeed was situated, but the old man every time gave one and the same answer: "the spot, where is hidden this holy garment, about which in its time the true believers will sing praises unto god, is like the place on which jacob beheld the staircase leading up to heaven." this was the only occasion when they seriously disturbed the hebrews, all the remaining time, however, before and afterwards, they constantly received and treated them exactly according to the rules of true eastern hospitality and made them feel quite at home in their new fatherland. in the year one hundred and eighty-six a.d., revv ascended the georgian throne. the word "reva" signifies "conqueror," but the nation gave this serene sovereign a designation still more suited to him and still more honorable, for they rightly named him "the just sovereign," for his very first great public act was the repression of privateering and robbing in the army and the prohibition to bring children to be offered to the gods. although revv the just was himself an idolator, yet he did have some kind of a vague idea of the new testament of our lord jesus christ, highly esteemed his true followers and even strictly forbade to chase the christians, who had held their own in small numbers among the worthy descendants of the most enlightened apostles. these little marks of attention were sufficient to support christianity, which stood high in the eyes of many men in the country. from this bright moment onwards the number of christians began undoubtedly to increase, although of course slowly, but every year so that by the arrival of saint nina they were already forming a considerable and by no means to be despised class. ix. the comet a legend on a steep, steep mountain path, leading directly to the monastery of john of zadenne, a young girl was slowly walking. her lovely sweet hands were all covered with blood as she was holding on with all her might and main to the prickly bushes; it being absolutely necessary to stick to them, so as not to fall into a deep abyss. having safely reached a little square she stopped in order to quiet down and catch her breath; for in front of her another just as difficult ascent was awaiting her and she felt that it was her duty to rest and save her remaining strength. having stood a while, she cautiously sat down and began to look at the path by which she had dared to come. far in the distance one could see a horseman. the well trained horse like a cat hung on to the mountain, taking advantage of the most insignificant little trail or plateau and of every imaginable hardly noticeable highland road. small stones rolled away from under its feet, the dry old branches of many a bush trembled and broke with a sharp cracking sound while the horse galloped--approaching always nearer and nearer the terribly exhausted woman-traveller. coming up with her, the rider reverently bowed. he also intended to let his faithful horse have a good rest on the little plateau and naturally he began a conversation with the sitting maid. from what she told him, he found out that she was called salougvari and that she undertook this pilgrimage, wishing to pray at the sacred tomb of a most holy, saintly hermit for the restoration of her dying mother's health. the young people went on talking for some time and the gallant rider offered her to continue her journey, holding on to the tail of his horse. this means of mountaineering is considered by us in georgia the very safest and far less exhausting than all others. when they reached the summit he rode into a deep thicket, growing on the edge of the mountain, on which stood a monastery; the horseman's way of treating her changed completely and his extraordinary speeches terrified salougvari. she, having abandoned the tail of the horse, in an instant ran off to the monastery and like a frightened little bird made her way into the church. the glances of all those praying turned with astonishment to the runaway wanderer and this unusual surprise grew still greater, when after her a horseman bounced in on a foaming steed and with his hat on his head and not paying the slightest attention to the solemn church service simply began to search with his piercing looks for poor, poor salougvari, who had taken refuge at the very tomb of the famous saint. having beheld his fellow-sojourner, he rashly knocked against his horse and with one bold bound, he arrived close by her side. in that memorable moment, the ground suddenly shook and actually opened itself, swallowed up the fiery and insulting horseman and again majestically closed itself up with such marvellous rapidity that those present were struck as though by lightning and could not utter a word. it is of course well known that somewhat below the monastery in the very mountain the temple of zadenne was cut out, which soon became the permanent residence of demons, and indeed these latter rogues, daily coming out of their horrid dwelling places, very much disturbed saint john and his numerous scholars until he gave orders that the entrance into the vast abandoned cave-region should be firmly barred and closely blocked up. our bold horseman had the most peculiar--yes wonderful feeling in the neighborhood of this whole temple or house of worship. upon a height there stood the gigantic reproduction of a handsome old man sitting on a massive throne, between his feet lay a ring-formed snake--the true symbol of eternity--while in his hand he held lightning. this was all artistically cut out in marble. the elegant crown, which decorated the wise brow of the old man, had still preserved some signs of pure gold; here and there precious stones were shining. this was decidedly the kingdom of coldness and of some secret magic-like half-darkness. the light was able to shine in only through the opening holes of the mountain and through the holes yet left between the perfectly immense stones with which the entrance was surely and safely barred. having thoroughly recovered after his strange incident and quite unexpected fall, aderke (it was thus they called the horseman) began to carefully inspect and search the cave. his attention was especially drawn by one spot, shining like a diamond. it appeared that this was a tremendous piece of mountain salt, on which a ray of light which had managed to get through one of the mountain holes was gayly playing. other such pieces were falling down in long, long divisions from the cupola-like, vaulted ceiling. thirst was torturing aderke. thinking that this was simply ice, he began to direct all his efforts towards successfully breaking off a respectable piece, but notwithstanding his most desperate jumps, he could not accomplish anything. then he naturally imagined that from the sides of the cave much lower down he might be able to get something and began to go around it in a circle, trying to find here or there some possible opening, on which he might firmly stand and make his way. passing close by a great piece of salt, he overheard some very distant voice which was singing a soft, marvellous song. aderke began to listen most attentively. "powerful sire," called out the extraordinary secret voice, "i have been awaiting thee for many years, dispel thou as quickly as possible this darkness and lead me forth into the region of freedom. oh! have pity upon me!--i implore to be given freedom only with the exalted aim of submitting to thee, to serve and wait upon thee, to love thee tenderly, yes, to be thine ever obedient slave. thou didst happen to come hither, pursuing a most handsome mortal being; look now at my features; you can plainly distinguish them through my dark prison. the more the extreme brilliancy of my subterranean dwelling darkens her dreadfully poor saklia (hut) the more the glitter of my beauty darkens her exceptional charms. she did not even venture to look at thee, for she feared thy caresses. i, however, did not take my eyes off from thee from the time that thou didst fall to the feet of mighty zadenne, i constantly admire thee with a perfectly passionate glance, i love thee, i call thee to my side: come, oh come thou quicker!" wild with excitement and deeply impressed by that most passionate song, aderke entirely forgot his unhappiness, forgot also the thirst which was torturing him, he began to stare more closely at the salt masses and through their transparent grim old walls he began to be able to distinguish the tender outlines of a young and pretty woman. he knocked with his vigorous fist against the cold, cold mineral wall, but the powerful blow did not leave the slightest trace; then he pulled out his kindjall and thrust out his arm still stronger against the salt shapes, which were almost turning to stone. it slightly trembled; aderke now turned to the pedestal of the idol, detached from it a large piece of fine marble and using it instead of a vigorous hammer, began to diligently knock it as hard as possible against the long handle of the kindjall. the opening evidently made considerable progress. in the meantime, through the little opening which had been made in the pedestal, there slipped out a lizard, after it a snake, then a flying mouse and finally a little devil. coming out of their wonderful ambuscade, they were all of exceedingly small proportions, but these proportions grew larger and larger every minute. the lizard seemed to possess a perfectly formless human face, the snake had wings grown on to its body, the mouse seemed to have the head of an owl with a tremendous beak and fiery sparkling eyes. the little devil, far smaller in size than the rest, cleverly jumped at the mass of marble which was nearest to aderke and by a well known signal ordered them to begin the furious attack. first the lizard moved and trumpeted with some kind of an awful, not human voice. "let thou go my prisoner, insolent adventurer, or else we shall jointly cut thee up in pieces!" aderke, astonished by such reasoning, turned around. the unusually enormous lizard stood on its hind legs and seemed to be all prepared to attack and swallow him up. the flying mouse made a noise and waved with her big wings, howling out some terrific metallic sound; the snake stretched out and slipped up to him with perfectly awful hissing, while the beastly little devil joked and insulted him above his head and filled the air with unbearable, bad odors. aderke, seeing what was coming, bravely pulled out the sword and daringly struck at the snake, who was just making ready to spring at and wind itself around his feet. the excellent sword cut it right through, but unfortunately without doing it the very least harm. it quickly set to gathering together its fearful rings and went back to the idol. aderke energetically rushed after it and fainted from terror. from the pedestal sprang out one after another innumerable and varied poisonous monsters, one more terrific--yes, fearful, than the next. then there were also people with snakes' heads and snakes with birds' wings and birds with fishes' tails and fishes with heads of living people. all these awful monsters hastened to abandon their ambuscade, crowded and pushed each other, slipped over each other, quarrelled in a most undignified manner, bit each other, struck and scolded each other; here one monster was hissing, there a second one was making a violent speech, a third one let out from his mouth such a horribly disturbing whistle that the cold ran over one's whole body. in the midst of this tremendous row a human cry of distress reached aderke; he turned around. the lizard was doing his best to widen out the opening which he had forced through, while the snake with an evil meaning and aggressive hissing hastened to occupy each newly opened little crack. aderke wanted to run and help the poor, poor woman-prisoner, but the flying mouse threw itself towards the entrance and having spread out its wings guarded with its own body its outrageous comrades. in the meantime the remaining monsters seized aderke by the legs and would not allow him to budge a step from the place where he stood. thereupon he bravely drew out his pistol and with a sharp and rare shot smashed to pieces the salt block. at this moment the monsters unanimously took hold of him and he of course lost consciousness, so that he did not see how out of the blazing brilliant niche formed by his pistol shot, a splendid young woman rushed forth to meet him. before her the monsters reverently stepped aside. "away with you!" she cried out in a most commanding voice. "take him up cautiously and carry him after me," pointing to aderke, she ordered some strange bear with birds' legs and with a crane's beak to carry out her commands. the monster instantly submitted to the explicit instructions and, continuing to respectfully follow her imperious commands, he went in with his burden, up the steps of the pedestal to the very idol and placed aderke at its feet. "now," said the young woman, "your power over me has ended, having got back all my former freedom, i have also regained all my past influence and power. tram, tram----tara, all to your respective places!" she continued in a most decisive tone, and the horrible monsters one after another rushed back to the high pedestal. when they had taken up their proper positions, she bent down and raised the piece of marble thrown away by aderke and cleverly----yes, powerfully, barred the entrance. after that she again went up to the idol, fell down on her knees and said: "great zaden! here you have a gift fully worthy of you as a grateful reward for my happy deliverance. if it pleases your serene majesty that i should not go away from this, thine abandoned temple, trying with all my energy to be equal to the task of replacing your former most numerous servants, so for my sake give me back this dead man, call him back to life, start up in his heart a sincere attachment to me and we shall both be your constant, loyal and ever watchful servants. the heavy stone eyelids of the idol opened themselves, its eyes sparkled, and from this momentary sparkling aderke instantly came back to life and was able to stand on his feet. at the same time the idol with a terrific crash and shaking fell to pieces and disappeared in the dust. "who art thou--magnificent creature?" was his first question. "let us go into my transparent dwelling place," she replied, "i shall place thee on my exquisite crystal sofa and quietly entertain thee with my interesting stories and dear caresses." they jointly went into the niche. through the sweet little opening a small, small ray of light streamed in and perfectly marvellously played upon a smooth, salty ceiling, showering down millions of beautiful sparks and blazing with all the colors of the rainbow. the beauty sat down, put aderke's head on her lovely knees and while he was endeavoring to fall asleep, she told him her whole history. "i am the daughter of the moon and of zaden, they call me aipina. my father actually decided that i should appear to the glance of people only to prophesy some peaceful event, the rest of the time i am ordered to remain secretly hidden in the grim walls of his temple, which at that time was a place of general worship and sacrifice. the people used to crowd about here from morning till night with very rich offerings. numerous sacrificers burnt their offerings, while their female companions in long white garments sitting on golden seats prophesied the future. but notwithstanding all this excitement it was stupid for me, and one fine night, when my mother had covered everything with her soft, magic, fairy-like light, i wilfully managed to get out of the temple and flew into the sky, blazing with my highly brilliant tail. mother became frightened by my daring to commit such an act and hastened to hide herself. then i alone began to gayly run up and down on the horizon, busily chasing the many stars and pushing them on with my tail. among the heavenly lighters a most astounding and terrific plot came up and they hurried to get me out of the way as quickly as possible, and my father angrily informed me that my perfectly crazy undertaking had made him fail. "it came to pass just so, for on that day a poor, poor monk arrived and settled on the mountain. zaden of course ordered the monsters to instantly chase him out of the dwelling which he had chosen, but the hermit by some marvellous sign of his hand deprived them entirely of any strength. many pilgrims, who had arrived from afar with offerings to pay their sincere respects to zaden, upon seeing the newcomer on a height, peacefully sitting between wild snakes, naturally went up to him in a wide circle and spared no time or strength in order to satisfy his intense curiosity. he, however, took full advantage of this to make them give up the faith of their forefathers and instruct them in some religion, the chief peculiarity of which was hatred of our old, old gods. "in the end the unceasing attacks of the monsters began to bore the monk: he therefore gathered all his hearers and together with them strongly barred the grand entrance of the temple and quietly left the place. through inexperience i had at first wickedly laughed at his great efforts: what use was it when zaden, at his own will guiding and directing thunder and lightning, used to smash their edifices to pieces in no time at all, while the old man in going away touched the hard stones with the same marvellous movement of the hand which had destroyed the power and strength of the monsters, and zaden immediately felt that his godly qualities and peculiarities began to abandon him forever. as a punishment for my most stupid volunteering, he deprived me of the shining form of a comet and transformed me into a woman, whom he commanded to guard the poisonous monsters. they hastened to fix me in this salt wall, but zaden, who grew weaker every minute, in a last, but tremendous, outbreak of wrath worked out the following decision: "'thou wilt be entirely in the power of these awful monsters until thou art able to find a mortal man who delivereth thee, and then they will again fully obey thee!' this was the last sign, not only of his power, but also of the life of my father; ever since then he turned himself into a breathless idol and sat immovably on his marble throne for several centuries. through the holes of the fallen house of public worship the water flowed unto his most royal crown and meanly washed away from it the highly precious ornaments. lizards climbed over his face, the flying mice quite fearlessly sat down on his powerful shoulders and hands, the snakes wound around his legs! he remained insensible to everything and not strong enough to protect and defend himself. i must say i had an awfully stupid, dull time. days, months, years, even centuries went by and actually nobody appeared. i had already quite given up all hope when kind fate led thee hither. now we must absolutely find means to get out of this place. i for my part know that from this temple there leads a subterranean passage to the numerous catacombs with which this mountain is overfilled and from them we can go wherever it pleases us." "but who will show us this passage?" asked aderke. "i have a good friend among the monsters; it is the bear with the crane's nose. during all the long and dreary years of my unjust confinement he daily nourished me. with his long, long beak he managed to make a little opening in my dark dwelling, looked for and gathered the hives of wild bees, who had taken refuge in the holes around here, and fed me with their honey. he was at first a man of the same faith as our enemy the hermit and chanced to be banished hither for having ridiculed some servant of his god." at these words aipina struck the palm of her hand; the bear took away a stone and climbed out; then she informed him of the object of the whole undertaking and he, having warned them that the way would be long and exceedingly tiresome, hastily entered their cave and attentively and vigorously began to try with his beak where the mass of salt was thinnest. when, however, such a place had been successfully found, he and aderke pushed against it with their whole weight and after long and repeated attempts they pierced a rather small hole, through which it was very evident that they should have to go. first the bear slipped through, after him aipina and aderke. the passage was cut out in the rocky part of the mountain and was so close and small that it was necessary to go one behind the other and to stoop over. having advanced a little farther they joyfully came out on a small square with a much higher cupola-like ceiling. through a little crack a dim ray of light was seen. they sat down to rest and having looked about somewhat they came to notice something gleaming, yes, burning like gold. this turned out to be a fine glass vessel with four pretty handles. it was of gold color with thin white patterns and filled to overflowing with ancient greek silver coins. "the first thing found is naturally due to thee," said aipina in a very gracious tone. and the bear having taken up the vessel on his long thin beak again set forth on his journey. it was necessary to follow on by just so narrow and low a passage--only fully twice as long--as the first. it led them into a large round cave, which was exceedingly high. at the very top there was a rather large opening, through which the light could easily penetrate. at the side of one wall stood a wooden grave without a roof, and in front of it an old, old candlestick of red clay. to the tremendous surprise of our travellers, the whole room was illuminated by the fine blue flame of a very rare wick. they went nearer and saw that in the tomb there lay a hermit, very likely a saint, because his body was splendidly preserved. "let us take a rest," said the exhausted aipina, sitting down on the floor. the bear slowly lowered his vessel to her feet, but aderke did not let his eyes lose sight of the deceased, as though he was trying hard to remember some familiar features, and suddenly he succeeded in his mental researches and with awful screeching and jumping threw himself on the bare floor in front of the grave. "forgive me, oh, holy god," he cried out, "forgive me that severe insult which i inflicted upon thee in my state of craziness and for which i have been so cruelly punished." and with most sincere and hearty repenting he prayed to god and the saint to pardon his terrible sin. aipina heard him with eyes and mouth wide open, but on her the words of aderke produced quite a different impression. he understood how fearfully he had offended god and his proud heart was filled with perfect remorse. he fell down on his knees by the side of the monster and wept bitterly and long over his wicked actions and earnestly implored to be pardoned. the all-merciful god accepted the tears of both great sinners and sent them a deliverance which was quite as marvellous as the punishment. an unusual light was shining into the cave and in a second blinded the praying men; when, however, they again began to be able to distinguish the different things, aipina was no longer to be seen, but on the spot where she stood there shone a blindingly magnificent comet. aderke glanced at the bear--he had been transformed into a very handsome youth, in his hands, under the rays of the comet, burned and played with various colored fires the remarkable, ancient glass vessel. in an instant the comet began gradually to draw nearer to the opening in the vaulted ceiling. the gleaming windings of her long, long tail safely guided both the astonished persons and attracted them after her. soon they had successfully completed the march through the long and narrow entrance road of the cave and began to rise higher and higher until they had triumphantly reached the summit of the mountain. then the comet let herself down to the doors of that same temple, in which aderke had so terribly misbehaved on his arrival in the said region. aipina was again transformed into a simple woman and began to request aderke that he should make her a slave and servant of the omnipotent god who had accomplished such great deeds of creation. in the meantime the sunrise service was just beginning and the monks began to come out of their cells to celebrate their morning devotions. the first stroke of the bell was then heard. aderke and his faithful companion took off their caps and reverently made the sign of the cross. in this minute to them came up the monk who usually stood at the tomb of the saint, when poor salougvari had taken speedy refuge near it. he found out aderke and furiously looked at him. but the most humble and submissive speech of the really repenting man quickly quieted his anxious feelings. aipina was converted and really and truly became the wife of aderke, while his comrade in the hour of trial, who had made use of his fortune in order to buy up a very extensive vineyard near the poor saklia (hut) of salougvari, happily married her and took over into his house her widowed mother. all three lived long and happily and very frequently visited aderke and aipina, who were by no means behind them in sincerity of love and perfect harmony. x. the jewel necklace it was the twenty-second of december, the day of our holy "fate-decider" anne. in a poor saklia (native hut) not far from the road leading into town there sat a very young, beautiful girl, surrounded by a number of children. she was bitterly crying. on this day the father of this unhappy family died in jail; and that same terrible day, when he was taken away from his home and locked up against his will, the poor mother breathed her last breath. for what reason they had imprisoned him, the children did not know. they tenderly loved their father and in their true childish imagination it seemed to them as though he could not be wrong in any department of life whatever. the last time that they had seen him, he informed them that people would come and punish him even before the fête, and so they diligently prayed for his deliverance and salvation to the holy martyr anastasia--and, behold! on the day of her celebration, she cut the cords and bands which prevented him from enjoying the blessings of home life and delivered him forever from prison as well as from the terrible punishment. "zenobi!" remarked one of the children, "i want to eat." "sit ye all down," replied the young girl, rising and drying her mournful tears. she covered the table with a simple blue cloth with white flowers and placed on it a star-formed vessel, on which a whole mountain of rice was seen. "pray ye first and then eat to your hearts' content," she said. "but thou, darling, wilt thou not join our company?" asked the older boy. "i will eat afterwards; just now i have no time, but i will readily eat up all you leave!" zenobi forced herself to smile although tears were really choking her; this was all the food which remained in their house, they had no money whatever--how and with what were the children to be fed the next day? that was the question which constantly came into her mind and kept her from being quiet. wishing to conceal her worry, she went out--but her brother took advantage of her absence in order to somewhat restrain the appetite of the children. "leave something for zenobi," said he, "for i believe she has eaten nothing since morning; all the bread which was left she divided among us without keeping a single piece for herself." noticing also that the quantity of rice was constantly diminishing, he assumed a more decided tone: "enough!" he suddenly broke out, rising from his chair. "pray ye to god and go out to play in the street, the sun is shining in all its wonderful glory--lose no time while it is warm and comfortable!" and taking the smallest of the children by the hand, he read aloud the after-dinner prayer and went out. "zenobi!" he cried, coming out, "we have all finished." the young girl entered the room, hastily crossed herself and with anxiety sat down and began to eat the rice, but she had not succeeded in swallowing the first morsel, when the door of the saklia opened itself and a poor, poor hermit came in. "in the name of the infant jesus let me get rested, refresh myself and have something to eat!" said he. zenobi immediately rose; hunger was torturing her, but she did not hesitate for a moment to offer him her forlorn repast. "yes, may god be blessed, who hath sent a guest even to our poor saklia for such a great celebration!" she answered; "eat--while i prepare thee a comfortable bed," and having done everything to make the foreign traveller feel as much at home as possible, she went out into the street, in order to keep the children quiet during the sleep of the wise old man. after two hours he came out, sat down along by the saklia on a huge stone which took the place of a bench, and pleasantly called the children. his touching, caressing voice and his great good eyes instantly won him forever the sincere love of the dear children, they gayly ran up to him, while he pulled a small apple from his pocket and a sitzevian handkerchief. "if you bring me four quills from this fine thorn-bush," said he, pointing to a very large bush growing within a few steps from the saklia, "i will arrange a very nice and amusing toy for you." within a minute the children stood again before him--this time their hands full of quills. the hermit thereupon took up four of them and fastened with their help the corners of the large handkerchief to the apple--afterwards wound a handkerchief around the whole concern and threw it so high into the air that it really looked like an insignificant little dark point. the children in amazement did not lose sight of this point and soon beheld a small balloon lowering itself in their direction; the air filled out the handkerchief, giving it thus the look of a small air balloon, which, gracefully flying between earth and sky, gradually descended to their poor home. there was no end to the children's delight, each one of them wished to toss the dear toy higher than the first. while they were going through various exercises, running and making a lot of noise, zenobi sat down at the side of her delightful guest and began to ask him from what place he came. "i, my child, come from the capital," he said; "to-day there is an unusual commotion over there. the heralds proclaimed on all the city squares that the sovereign would spare no reward to him who would bring the best imaginable necklace into the palace and that by the fête of circumcision of the lord. "in the nation a report is being spread that the only daughter of the widower-tsar took some kind of a most terrible disease which not even the most experienced or energetic doctor is able to define or heal in any way. something extraordinary, unseen, unheard of! heavy bands were tying down the young tsarevna by the hands and legs and deprived her of free movements, so that she actually resembled a corpse much more than a live being. "in this night she had had a very remarkable dream--as though some powerful voice had promised her to cut the bands which kept her down, upon the day of the circumcision of the lord, if by that day she had succeeded in finding a necklace for her magnificent neck which by its splendor exceeded all ornaments of the kind until then known." saying this, the old man rose. "i should like to reach that house to-day," he said, "it is high time to set forth for the journey; but how can i express my gratitude to thee, my dear child, for thy wonderful hospitality? "well, do not despise these lavashees (little breads), and may the lord increase every kind of food in your most hospitable house." "amen," said zenobi with all her heart, taking up the lavashees and looking back at the departing hermit. a little later she began to assemble the children around the house. "thanks to our guest you will have very dainty lavashees for supper this evening," she said to them, entering the saklia. but what must have been her complete surprise when she saw her star-formed vessel standing on the table and filled to overflowing with rice. there was so little of it left when she had offered her dinner to the stranger; where then had this veritable mountain of rice come from? she stared at her older brother and their astonished eyes soon met each other. "isn't all this wonderful! how quickly the saintly blessing of the wise hermit was fulfilled," said he, and, falling down on their knees, the whole family began to pray most ardently and afterwards joyfully sat down to their well deserved and this time plentiful supper. in front of each child lay a fresh lavash (roll), on which zenobi had thoughtfully piled up a large amount of rice. having eaten the rice, each one ate a lavash too and all were perfectly satisfied, but there yet remained some rice and lavashees. zenobi gathered the remains and the next morning the dish was again as full as ever and there were enough lavashees for all. thus the wonder repeated itself for eight days in succession, but on the eve of the circumcision of the lord, the dish looked just the way it did when they took it off the table, neither rice nor lavashees had increased. zenobi decided to lay up what was left for dinner and let the children go to walk without a breakfast. in order to induce them not to think of melancholy events, she wisely reminded them of the excellent toy which the dear old traveller had left with them. they immediately ran off to find the handkerchief and indeed had a very hard time; in the end zenobi herself started out for the search and managed to find it in some remote, dark corner. it was filled with something heavy and she naturally imagined that it must be rice. delighted by this thought, she quickly placed the handkerchief on the table and untied it; inside of it there was a magnificent, blindingly beautiful jewel necklace! the children stood around in a circle, their little mouths opened as wide as possible. "let us run this minute to the town," exclaimed the older boy, "i say, let us run, zenobi, dear, we will still succeed to get the necklace to the palace before midnight!" and taking each other's hand, brother and sister ran on the road with what they had found by accident. the town was not very far; by noon they were already on the palace square, in the very centre of which a long, long table was erected. on it they opened and inspected the necklaces which various people brought and the royal officials carefully put down in a large book the names of the strangers interested. these were extremely numerous and our poor little acquaintances hardly had the patience to wait for their turn to come. the official unbelievingly looked at their humble attire and the poor, insignificant handkerchief. having placed the object on the table, he nevertheless untied the handkerchief. a cry of complete astonishment rang out from the mouths of all those present, and before the poor orphans had time to think the matter over, they were already standing in the bedroom of the suffering tsarevna and saw how the tsar, her father, with a trembling hand placed the necklace on his invalid daughter's neck. then turning to them, he naturally asked who they were and where under the sky they had found such an unheard of and extraordinary treasure. zenobi with true childlike straightforwardness related all that had taken place to the tsar, who patiently listened to her simple, yet most pathetic speech, in which one could clearly make out her warmest faith in god and her thankfulness and gratitude to the holy martyr anastasia; he actually felt very much moved and sweet tears were to be seen in his great eyes. "take my guests," he said to those near him, pointing to zenobi and her brother, "feed them, let them drink and appease their aroused feeling and great anxiety, but when they are rested, clothe them in the finest costumes and bring them hither." then he ordered his aides-de-camp to bring the image of the all-holy fate-decider and having placed it on the pillow of the little princess, he gave orders that the prayers for her speedy recovery and convalescence should begin. by order of the king, the doors of the palace were solemnly thrown open and all who desired to pray were allowed to enter the enormous precincts of the bedroom. the number of those praying increased hourly; not long before midnight the chamberlains and ladies of honor of his majesty the king conducted our dear little acquaintances, attired in gorgeous costumes, which gave still greater charm and beauty to their natural handsomeness and grace. the grieved tsar made a sign, indicating his wish that they should stand in a line with him; all eyes were fixed on zenobi, who, not noticing anything special, quietly fell down on her knees and instantly began to pray with all her heart and soul. exactly at midnight the tsarevna raised her head and happily looked at the loyal people who had been praying for her; then made the holy sign of the cross--then actually sat up in bed! the king rushed towards her and took her up in his arms. the child put her arms around her father's neck and sweet, sweet tears flowed out of the eyes of both, and how open-heartedly and sincerely they sang, together with the people present, a true song of praise to the holy martyr anastasia! at the end of the prayer, the tsar led the tsarevna to zenobi and said: "after god and his holy servant thou must certainly thank her, whom he chose to be the instrument of thy precious recovery, yes, may she take the place of thine all-beloved late mother!" all present naturally hastened to bring their loyal and dutiful congratulations to the tsar and his bride, but the little tsarevna quite overwhelmed zenobi with caresses and kisses. immediately some noblemen were sent after her brothers and sisters, who from that time onwards lived at the palace and were educated together with the dear little princess. zenobi, however, having become queen never forgot the poor, the religious and the queer, and the lord blessed her with the birth of a son, who immediately became heir-presumptive to the throne. the reign of her husband was most peaceful and happy, and having lived to an advanced age in model mutual accord, the reigning sovereigns died both on the same day, reminding their son never to forget the only real and true faith, the faith of our lord jesus christ. xi. saint mourvanoss a story mourvanoss was the first saint in our highly honorable royal family, later on so abundant in holy martyrs, preachers and leaders. in the year three hundred and ninety-three a.d. the georgian king varaz (ovenne)-bakarr was favored with the birth of a son mourvanoss, the birth of whom had been predicted to his mother by angels. this mother was namely the grand-daughter of revv, the son of mirian and daughter of trdat, that is to say third cousin of her husband the tsar varaze-bakarr, the grandson of bakarr the first and son to mirdat the third. bakarr the first loved very much his dear nephews, especially the younger of them, bakourious. the son of bakarr the first, mirdat was almost the same age as trdat and the cousins frequently passed the time together, their children grew up under the shelter of this friendship and did not notice how their childish friendship went over into love. although the parents had absolutely nothing against the marriage, yet the youthful tsarevna was always tormented by the thought that they were not acting in accordance with the holy laws of the church, which strictly forbade marriage between two third cousins. most honorable, good, simple, merciful, helping everybody in case of need or unhappiness, she as tsaritsa still went on tormenting herself with the acknowledgment of her sin and, see! the lord really wished to quiet and comfort her and as a sign of forgiveness sent angels, who announced to her that he blessed her marriage by the birth of a saintly baby. while still at his mother's breast, mourvanoss regularly observed the fasts, refusing to suck the breast on wednesdays and fridays. hardly had he learned to talk when he earnestly began to commit to memory what he had heard in the church and gradually as he grew older instructed himself always more and more in the holy scriptures. when varaze-bakarr died, mourvanoss and his brothers and sisters were children, and as guardian over them they chose the uncle trdat, having also handed over to his administration the kingdom until the coming of age of the children of varaze-bakarr and his daughter, who had already died, while, however, the younger son of varaze-bakarr, faremanne, from his second wife, was being educated at the home of the kristav of sammeshvillde. notwithstanding his very advanced age trdat reigned most wisely; he was a thoroughly god-fearing, sensible and cautious man. thanks to his extreme wisdom the persians were completely conquered, the righteous state of affairs again introduced into the country and many churches restored and newly erected. under him died the well-known bishop yovv and was superseded by tlia. although he of course paid tribute to the persians, yet he understood how to get back from them rousstave where he then triumphantly built a church. he also finely restored nekreziy. mourvanoss was already fifteen years old, when the greek emperor, theodosius the younger, came upon the throne and the relations between greece and persia became worse and worse. the new emperor fearing that other nations might unite and make common cause with his enemies, offered trdat an alliance, to assure which he demanded some one of the children of varaze-bakarr as hostage. good trdat, who equally loved all his grandsons, was in the greatest confusion, while reflecting whom he should select, when to him appeared mourvanoss and energetically announced that he was going to greece, where he had long desired to be, as it was the centre and capital of the whole christian world, and with general consent and approbation he started off for constantinople. there he devoted himself to fasting, praying and preaching, rebuking the tremendous worldly splendor with which the emperor constantly surrounded him. to drown unnecessary gossip he clothed himself in a vlassianitsa of most ordinary goat wool. to the general astonishment of the people he soon acquired a complete and perfect knowledge of the greek and syrian languages and ardently studied philosophy. the lord now rewarded him with the exceptional gift of being capable of healing the sick. thanks to his petition the remains of the martyrs, who had suffered torment and death in persia, were safely transported into old georgia. once upon a time, on the eve of the most holy baptism of the lord, intending to pass the whole night in devotion and prayer, mourvanoss ordered his servant to bring him some butter for the little lamp. but he brusquely answered him: "thou art a royal son and, instead of reigning as it becomes one of thy rank, thou livest as a monk without eating a morsel from one sunday to another," and he did not go for the desired butter. but the tsarevitch filled the little lamp with water instead of butter, and, lighting it, accomplished with this marvellous light his holy, holy prayers. seven whole days and nights the wonderful light did not once go out, and during that period our lord jesus christ appeared to the saint to invisibly accompany and protect him everywhere. with the help and favor of god the tsarevitch carried out many wonders, healing the sick with the water of his little lamp. the emperor namely had a eunuch who used to like to come and pray together with the saint. the tsarevitch thought of leaving the imperial court accompanied by the eunuch, but theodosius, having heard of the plan, sent a guard to watch them. nevertheless through the almighty mercy of god they succeeded in avoiding being closely observed by them and during the night ran away. an all-shining holy pillar went in front of them, guiding them and illuminating their road. upon the appearance of the pillar the following words were heard coming out of it: "he who doth follow me will never fall into the region of darkness and unbelief!" finding a respectable vessel, they after a few days arrived in a port then unknown to them, where they were immediately locked up in the local prison. but that same night a terrific earthquake with perfectly awful noise took place there and many, many people perished through it. to the commandant of the city appeared a perfectly unknown man, the very voice of whom reminded one of tremendous rolls of thunder. "deliver thou this minute the true servants of god!" he called out, "otherwise this wicked town will be turned to ashes." the frightened official immediately had the prisoners led out and freed and they started off for jerusalem, where at that time there lived the runaway from rome captive, tsar pipinoss, with his wife malienoss. they were very religiously inclined, had entirely given up all worldly habits and pretensions, became monks and lived at jerusalem in two different monasteries, which they themselves had erected. they caressingly received the newcomers. having rested a little, the saints went to the tomb of the lord, where they also became monks. mourvanoss was named peter and the eunuch john. who can possibly describe their charitable deeds! they shone like illuminators, instructing and converting all and everything simply by the splendid example of their own lives! they constructed two monasteries and connected with these a house of refuge of strangers for georgians and greeks, where the tsarevitch humbly waited upon travellers, and while occupied with such actions he reached his twenty-fifth year. this monastery was named after the most holy virgin. at this time the devil suddenly pounced down upon him in the disguise of a stranger and began to argue with and insult the saint for having renounced all his rights to the crown and for having humbly served his own servants, but the righteous hermit peter soon found out with whom he had to do and angrily chased him out of the hospice of strangers. then our lord jesus christ for a second time appeared to him and drew his attention towards the sky, where the saint now beheld a temple, in which fully fifty tsars of indescribable beauty were singing hymns unto god and glorifying his holy name. in the number of these select christian worshippers the lord also promised to add the tsarevitch mourvanoss. he was sixty-five years old when the patriarch of jerusalem, anastasius, made him a full priest. he went off into a desert, where on the banks of the jordan he founded yet another monastery. john accompanied him everywhere. here he successfully healed a man possessed with the devil, and delivered john from a tumor which had formed itself on his face and threatened to deprive him of his sight. when, however, john once more fell ill and suffered from some deadly disease, the saint implored that his life might be prolonged for still twelve years. he then visited and inspected all the egyptian and skithian monasteries and returned to his own monastery with a hospice for travelling strangers. at the time of hunger, he by the strength of his righteous prayers filled the monastery dwellings with bread and berries and the cellars with butter and wine. in that year good john peacefully died and he was solemnly interred in the monastery of the most holy virgin, which is to this day known under the designation of "the monastery of the georgians." soon afterwards the bishop of mayum died and the inhabitants having called together a meeting, unanimously chose peter the georgian to be bishop in the place of the deceased, and the patriarch fully approved their choice, but the most humble peter, not knowing how to avoid such a high honor, thought of throwing himself down from an elevated spot in order to break either a hand or a leg and so appear disqualified for the election unless he should possibly succeed in hiding himself by flight. then the lord appeared to him a third time with a quantity of angels and ordered him to accept the bishopric. many a time the good and god-fearing people in mayrounne heard the voice, which before had announced various news to the saint. at the time of a great dryness the holy prayers of the bishop brought down innumerable wonders. fruitless parents were comforted by the birth of children; the sick were healed and recuperated, fruitless trees were instantly covered with fruit; fishermen who until then had always been unsuccessful in their attempts, now pulled out of the water laden nets. the lord besides all this favored him with the exalted gift of becoming a prophet and enabled him thus to see the saintly souls in heaven. bishop peter was already eighty-one years old, when the all-holy fathers tsaya and zenomme died and the ever-fortunate bishop saw their sacred souls rising to heaven. the all-reverent peter had been obliged to stand much in the course of his life from the monophysites, through whose sly proceedings he was for a short time deprived of his righteous pulpit, to the great grief of the true believers. emperor leo frakiisky had hardly ascended the throne, when he hastened to restore the mayioun bishop in his rightful position. but he did not long keep his throne, for he soon felt the approach of his death and announced these solemn news to all those who belonged to his parish. at that time father athanasius was favored with a superb vision: the saints were praying to the lord that he should order them to bring up to their heavenly abode the all-holy bishop peter, who had done so exceedingly much in converting thousands and thousands of unbelievers to the one true and holy faith! within ten days the wish of the saints was carried out. the saint passed these ten days in constant prayer, on the tenth day he conducted a communion service, communed himself and also many true followers, blessed the enthusiastic crowd and having tenderly parted with all his dear folks he returned to his cell, where he serenely died and was borne to heaven by the mercy of the almighty god on the second day of december. many righteous and holy followers saw his soul carried by saints preceded by the holy martyr peter of alexandria, and heard their praises and songs of "glory to god." many till then incurable were healed simply by being brought up to and placed against his holy body. the holy roman pope gregory diologue dedicated a magnificent funeral oration to his precious memory in his all-famous book. xii. zesva two horsemen were giving chase to some wild goats. quickly did their most daring horses run, but still faster did the light little goats save themselves by flight, jumping across narrow gorges with one bound, springing on small plateaus, and in a word as though favored with having wings they seemed to fly through bushes and low shrubs. now, however, they made for a very high mountain covered with bushes and forests and rapidly found their way among green branches and blooming trees, ascending higher and higher. the pace of the pursuit of the horsemen considerably slowed down as the various plants were every now and then the cause of unexpected delays, while their victims, the goats, were able to catch breath between each long jump and thus got on rather well and without much difficulty. the comparatively large horses were of course forced to go out of their way in order to avoid knocking up against trees, which barred the trail, and even where the grass had been smoothed out the animals went rather quietly and the energetic horsemen saw themselves more than once obliged to cut and bend down massive branches which formed the chief impediment in the whole undertaking. when after long and renewed attempts they safely reached the summit of the mountain, the goats had completely disappeared, and looking in various directions in order to discover the hiding place of the fugitives, the plucky horsemen cast their glances at that part of the mountain at the foot of which spread itself out like a fairyland the perfectly magnificent valley of alazana. and how beautiful she looked on this rare sunny day, all shining with soft sweet rays, separated from each other by a large number of various colored shades, one more perfect and exquisite than the other. now she would seem to take a bath in some pale, rosy waves, produced by an unknown marvellous battery of light, then again she so dazzled in precious gold and finally blazed with emeralds and the branches of its quite innumerable vineyards. there was also the sea of clusters, which could be distinguished through its little fruit garden, and like gigantic flower bushes they concentrated in themselves an amazing variety of flowers from the very most conspicuous to the darkest and palest. in astonishment did the hunters stop. till then none of the toushines had known about the existence of the highly blessed and favored kakhitia. being illuminated and showing all of her blinding beauty, she indeed seemed to them a perfect paradise and attracted forever their exultant glances. and the hunt and goats and everything else was forgotten. they stood there in perfect adoration of this unusual perfection of beauty and being unable to resist any longer the force which drew them nearer and nearer to the happy land, they descended into the gorge of pankisse. on the river bazzarisse-tskali they chanced to come upon a detachment of tartar frontier guards, who immediately surrounded the newcomers, and having dealt with them in the most insulting and truly shameful manner, again chased them into the mountains from which they had come. arriving at home, the indignant toushines made a halt near that river, where the nation usually assembled when it was necessary to decide some important affairs. here did they also announce the facts of their perilous adventure and demand a revenge. soon by the summons of the elder there came together not only the toushines, but also the pchaves and khevsourians, called in to give their advice. they all unanimously decided to take terrible revenge for the insult inflicted on their countrymen. the pchaves and khevsourians promised their assistance and with general consent the whole army was divided into two parts. one division was to conceal itself in the gorge of pankisse, while the other should direct itself towards the baktrionan fortress, which was situated to the east of alazana and was in those remote times considered a very powerful fortification. nowadays we can judge of it only by its ruins, which, however, all testify its past grandeur and mightiness. it was impossible to cross the river otherwise than over the bridge, which the sly tartars covered with ashes in order to always find out the exact number and direction of new arrivals. but this ingenious slyness was not long hidden from the searching eye of zesva, the valiant leader of the detachment. he ordered to stop the horses near the outer gates and, riding at full speed across the bridge, he succeeded in hiding himself in a valley before the tartars found time to appear. the latter, guiding themselves by the direction of the traces, started in pursuit of their antagonists, but with every step getting farther and farther away from those to capture which was their intense desire. in the meantime the night came on and, profiting by the darkness, the toushines reached the foot of the very fortress without being noticed by anyone. having ordered his warriors to rest, zesva, without breaking the silence, took up a hammer, covered it with cow-hair felt, unloaded from his horse a very large maprasha (i.e., a pair of sacks tied unto the steed) filled with strong iron tusks and knocked the first great nail into the battlements of the fortress, and standing upon it and reaching as high as possible he made a second one stick, and thus he continued until he had made himself a kind of ladder of iron hooks to the tip-top of the high rampart wall, whence he jumped down and in a flash threw open the heavy gates. like a rushing stream did the toushines make their way into the fortress, while the first rays of the rising sun were falling upon the grim old fortifications. the tartars, half asleep, ran out into a field, but in vain for now they were met by the pchaves and khevsoures, who had ventured out from the gorge of pankisse. the tartars, surrounded on all sides, were exterminated to the last one and the field of honor of allavanne, on which the glorious fight had taken place, was from now on known under the name of "gatzvetila" (from the word "gatsveta"--"they are killing"). the magnanimous and lion-hearted zesva handed out all the rich booty of this ever-memorable day to his faithful allies, i.e., the pchaves and khevsoures, while gatzvetila became the common property of all toushines. nowadays this historic spot is known under the designation, "field of allavanna." some people pretend that this name comes from the georgian word "ali," i.e., "flame," as on this field, after the fire of the battle, the tartar blood went on smoking for a long time; others say this name originates from the kshtinskian words "al" = vladyka and "va" = here. this latter supposition, it seems to me, must be nearer in approaching the truth, as allvani was one of the country palaces of tamara, the ruins of which were not kept, although traditions confirm the existence of a palace on the above-mentioned field. xiii. the tale of mikhian a legend a wonderfully gorgeous reception was being prepared at the turkish court. the sultan had taken it into his head to brilliantly celebrate and entertain the all-famous hero-prince solagge, a mikhian by descent, who had just arrived in his domains. at the door the vizir met the guest with open arms and explained to him what a fortunate concurrence of circumstances it had been that had granted turkey the chance of beholding him within their borders. solagge wanted to reply, but the vizir, without listening to him, continued his pompous speech and thus obliged his guest to hold his tongue. the vizir had received instructions from the sultan to seek out means under pretense of friendship and veneration in order to have the famous hero perish, and so the sly ottoman official proposed that he should fight a duel with an arab giant and boxer, promising in reward for victory the position of a pasha of achaltsisk. solagge refused the reward, not wishing to abandon little mikhia, to serve which he had devoted his whole life, but the duel he accepted, and so the vizir personally brought him a rare and expensive horse with a golden saddle, gold stirrups, etc., saying: "here you have a steed worthy of a future pasha of achaltsisk." on a friday the whole town came together on a well-known square. proudly did the arab rival parade on his foaming horse. solagge reverently bowed to him, but the former, instead of replying, simply rushed at his antagonist with a hatchet in his hand. notwithstanding the perfectly unexpected attack, solagge all the same succeeded in repelling him, but a second and even a third hatchet came flying after the first. the clever mikhian missed their aim and without trouble succeeded in protecting himself against all of them and was soon on the point of attacking his enemy. like a regular tornado he pounced down upon his rival and at full gallop let his own hatchet fall on him. he cut the arab through and through and threw him off his horse to the ground. wishing to speedily arouse the dissatisfaction of the people, the moullahs (i.e., priests) surrounded the corpse, read aloud the khoran and filled the air with their hideous mournful lamentations and cries. but the nation, greatly delighted over the daring exploit of solagge, remained perfectly insensible to their never-ceasing weeping and howling. with great signs of distinction was solagge conducted into the palace, where the sultan, after a most friendly and hearty reception and pleasant congratulations, rewarded his excessive chivalry with gold and precious stones and again offered him the position of a pasha of achaltsisk, but solagge refused even a second time. "remember thy wonderful strength and the extraordinary mightiness which thou wilt be able to dispose of!" said the sultan. "o sovereign!" replied the famous hero, "i sincerely thank thee for the honor thou bestowest upon me and the extreme confidence which thou hast in me, but know thou then that being inspired by the mercy of god with that serene strength which hath drawn unto me thine elevated attention, i nevertheless do not feel the least need in obtaining any other power, whatever it may be, besides the one which gives me the love of my fellow-citizens." and solagge remained true to his word and passed his whole life in poor mikhia, protecting the slighted, punishing the lawless, and never died, for even down to our days he lives with boundless glory in national songs and legends, blessed and adored by every generation, as a shining example of courage and uncorrupted and sincere love for his native land. +-----------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | | original document have been preserved. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------+ travels in the steppes of the caspian sea, the crimea, the caucasus, &c. by xavier hommaire de hell, civil engineer, member of the societe geologique of france, and knight of the order of st. vladimir of russia. with additions from various sources. london: chapman and hall, , strand. mdcccxlvii. c. whiting, beaufort house, strand. author's preface. when i left constantinople for odessa my principal object was to investigate the geology of the crimea and of new russia, and to arrive by positive observations at the solution of the great question of the rupture of the bosphorus. having once entered on this pursuit, i was soon led beyond the limits of the plan i had marked out for myself, and found it incumbent on me to examine all the vast regions that extend between the danube and the caspian sea to the foot of the northern slope of the caucasus. i spent, therefore, nearly five years in southern russia, traversing the country in all directions, exploring the course of rivers and streams on foot or on horseback, and visiting all the russian coasts of the black sea, the sea of azof and the caspian. twice i was intrusted by the russian government with important scientific and industrial missions; i enjoyed special protection and assistance during all my travels, and i am happy to be able to testify in this place my gratitude to count voronzof, and to all those who so amply seconded me in my laborious investigations. thus protected by the local authorities, i was enabled to collect the most authentic information respecting the state of men and things. hence i was naturally led to superadd to my scientific pursuits considerations of all kinds connected with the history, statistics, and actual condition of the various races inhabiting southern russia. i was, moreover, strongly encouraged in my new task by the desire to make known in their true light all those southern regions of the empire which have played so important a part in the history of russia since the days of peter the great. my wife, who braved all hardships to accompany me in most of my journeys, has also been the partner of my literary labours in france. to her belongs all the descriptive part of this book of travels. our work is published under no man's patronage; we have kept ourselves independent of all extraneous influence; and in frankly pointing out what struck us as faulty in the social institutions of the muscovite empire, we think we evince our gratitude for the hospitable treatment we received in russia, better than some travellers of our day, whose pages are only filled with exaggerated and ridiculous flatteries. xavier hommaire de hell. definitions. _geographic miles_ are of to a degree of the equator. a russian verst ( - / to a degree), is / of a geographical mile, / of a french league of to a degree. it is equal to . english feet, or nearly / of a statute mile. it is divided into _sazhenes_, and each of these into _arshines_. a _deciatine_ (superficial measure) is equivalent to acres, roods, perches, english. a _pood_ is equal to russian or english pounds. _tchetverts_ (corn measure) are equal to about - / english quarters. a _vedro_ (liquid measure) contains - / english gallons, or - / litres. since the paper ruble has been suppressed, and has given place to the silver ruble. but the former is always to be understood wherever the word ruble occurs in the following pages. the paper ruble is worth from fr. c. to fr. c. according to the course of exchange; the silver ruble is equal to - / paper rubles. * * * * * a french _hectare_ is equal to acres, rood, perches, english. contents. page chapter i. departure from constantinople--arrival in odessa--quarantine chapter ii. streets of odessa--jews--hotels--partiality of the russians for odessa--hurricane, dust, mud, climate, &c.--public buildings chapter iii. the imperial family in odessa--church music--society of the place, count and countess voronzof--anecdote of the countess braniska--the theatre--theatrical row chapter iv. commerce of the black sea--prohibitive system and its pernicious results--depressed state of agriculture--trade of odessa--its bank chapter v. navigation, charge for freight, &c. in the black sea chapter vi. agriculture and manufactures of southern russia--mineral productions--russian workmen chapter vii. departure from odessa--travelling in russia--nikolaïef, olvia, otshakof--kherson--the dniepr--general potier--ancient tumuli--steppes of the black sea--a russian village--snow storm--narrow escape from suffocation--a russian family-- appendix chapter viii. an earthquake--ludicrous anecdote--sledging--sporting--dangerous passage of the dniepr--thaw; spring-time--manners and customs of the little russians--easter holidays--the clergy chapter ix. excursion on the banks of the dniepr--doutchina--election of the marshals and judges of the nobility at kherson--horse-racing --strange story in the "journal des débats"--a country house and its visiters--traits of russian manners--the wife of two husbands --servants--murder of a courier--appendix chapter x. departure for the caspian--iekaterinoslav--potemkin's ruined palace--paskevitch's caucasian guard--sham fight--intolerable heat--cataracts of the dniepr--german colonies--the setcha of the zaporogues--a french steward--night adventure--colonies of the moloshnia vodi--mr. cornies--the doukoboren, a religious sect chapter xi. marioupol--berdiansk--knavish jew postmaster--taganrok--memorials of peter the great and alexander--great fair--the general with two wives--morality in russia--adventures of a philhellene--a french doctor--the english consul--horse races--a first sight of the kalmucks chapter xii. departure from taganrok--sunset in the steppes--a gipsy camp --rostof; a town unparalleled in the empire--navigation of the don--azof; st. dimitri--aspect of the don--nakitchevane, and its armenian colony chapter xiii. general remarks on new russia--antipathy between the muscovites and malorossians--foreign colonies--general aspect of the country, cattle, &c.--want of means of communication--river navigation; bridges--character of the minister of finance-- history of the steamboat on the dniestr--the board of roads and ways--anecdote--appendix chapter xiv. the different conditions of men in russia--the nobles--discontent of the old aristocracy--the merchant class--serfdom--constitution of the empire; governments--consequences of centralisation; dissimulation of public functionaries--tribunals--the colonel of the gendarmerie--corruption--pedantry of forms--contempt of the decrees of the emperor and the senate--singular anecdote; interpretation of a will--radical evils in the judicial organisation--history and present state of russian law chapter xv. public instruction--corps of cadets--universities and elementary schools; anecdote--plan of education--motives for attending the universities--statistics--professors; their ignorance--exclusion of foreign professors--engineering-- obstacles to intellectual improvement--characteristics of the sclavonic race chapter xvi. entry into the country of the don cossacks--female pilgrims of kiev; religious fervour of the cossacks--novo tcherkask, capital of the don--street-lamps guarded by sentinels--the streets on sunday--cossack hospitality and good nature--their veneration for napoleon's memory chapter xvii. origin of the don cossacks--meaning of the name--the khirghis cossacks--races anterior to the cossacks--sclavonic emigrations towards the east chapter xviii. journey from novo tcherkask along the don--another knavish postmaster--muscovite merchants--cossack stanitzas chapter xix. first kalmuck encampments--the volga--astrakhan--visit to a kalmuck princess--music, dancing, costume, &c.--equestrian feats--religious ceremony--poetry chapter xx. historical notice of astrakhan--mixed population; armenians, tatars--singular result of a mixture of races--description of the town--hindu religious ceremonies--society chapter xxi. commercial position of astrakhan--its importance in the middle ages--its loss of the overland trade from india--commercial statistics--fisheries of the caspian--change of the monetary system in russia--bad state of the finances--russian political economy chapter xxii. departure from astrakhan--coast of the caspian--hawking-- houidouk--three stormy days passed in a post-house--armenian merchants--robbery committed by kalmucks--camels--kouskaia-- another tempest--tarakans--a reported gold mine chapter xxiii. another robbery at houidouk--our nomade life--camels--kalmuck camp--quarrel with a turcoman convoy, and reconciliation--love of the kalmucks for their steppes; anecdote--a satza--selenoi sastava--fleeced by a lieutenant-colonel--camel-drivers beaten by the kalmucks--alarm of a circassian incursion--sources of the manitch--the journey arrested--visit to a kalmuck lady-- hospitality of a russian officer chapter xxiv. review of the history of the kalmucks chapter xxv. the kalmucks after the departure of oubacha--division of the hordes, limits of their territory--the turcoman and tatar tribes in the governments of astrakhan and the caucasus-- christian kalmucks--agricultural attempts--physical, social, and moral characteristics of the kalmucks chapter xxvi. buddhism--kalmuck cosmogony--kalmuck clergy--rites and ceremonies--polygamy--the kirghis chapter xxvii. the tatars and mongols--the kaptshak--history and traditions of the nogais chapter xxviii. banks of the kouma; vladimirofka--m. rebrof's repulse of a circassian foray--bourgon madjar--journey along the kouma-- view of the caucasian mountains--critical situation--georgief --adventure with a russian colonel--story of a circassian chief chapter xxix. road from georgief to the waters of the caucasus--a polish lady carried off by circassians--piatigorsk--kislovodsk--history of the mineral waters of the caucasus chapter xxx. situation of the russians as to the caucasus. history of their acquisition of the trans-caucasian provinces --general topography of the caucasus--armed line of the kouban and the terek--blockade of the coasts--character and usages of the mountaineers--anecdote--visit to a circassian prince chapter xxxi. retrospective view of the war in the caucasus--vital importance of the caucasus to russia--designs on india, central asia, bokhara, khiva, &c.--russian and english commerce in persia chapter xxxii. a storm in the caucasus--night journey; dangers and difficulties --stavropol--historical sketch of the government of the caucasus and the black sea cossacks chapter xxxiii. rapid journey from stavropol--russian wedding--perilous passage of the don; all sorts of disasters by night--taganrok; commencement of the cold season--the german colonies revisited chapter xxxiv. departure for the crimea--balaclava--visit to the monastery of st. george--sevastopol--the imperial fleet chapter xxxv. bagtche serai--historical revolutions of the crimea--the palace of the khans--countess potocki chapter xxxvi. simpheropol--karolez--visit to princess adel bey--excursion to mangoup kaleh chapter xxxvii. road to baidar--the southern coast; grand scenery--miskhor and aloupka--predilection of the great russian nobles for the crimea chapter xxxviii. three celebrated women chapter xxxix. ialta--koutchouk lampat--parthenit--the prince de ligne's hazel --oulou ouzen; a garden converted into an aviary--tatar young women--excursion to soudagh--mademoiselle jacquemart chapter xl. ruins of soldaya--road to theodosia--caffa--muscovite vandalism --peninsula of kertch--panticapea and its tombs chapter xli. political and commercial revolutions of the crimea. extent and character of surface--milesian and heraclean colonies --kingdom of the bosphorus--export and import trade in the times of the greek republics--mithridates--the kingdom of the bosphorus under the romans--the alans and goths--situation of the republic of kherson--the huns; destruction of the kingdom of the bosphorus --the khersonites put themselves under the protection of the byzantine empire--dominion of the khazars--the petchenegues and romans--the kingdom of little tatary--rise and fall of the genoese colonies--the crimea under the tatars--its conquest by the russians chapter xlii. commercial polity of russia in the crimea--caffa sacrificed in favour of kertch--these two ports compared--the quarantine at the entrance of the sea of azof, and its consequences--commerce of kertch--vineyards of the crimea; the valley of soudak-- agriculture--cattle--horticulture--manufactures; morocco leather --destruction of the goats--decay of the forests--salt works-- general table of the commerce of the crimea--prospects of the tatar population chapter xliii. historical sketch of bessarabia. topology--ancient fortresses--the russian policy in bessarabia --emancipation of the serfs--colonies--cattle--exports and imports--mixed population of the province note the steppes of the caspian sea, &c. chapter i. departure from constantinople--arrival, in odessa-- quarantine. on the th of may, , we bade adieu to constantinople, and standing on the deck of the odessa steamer, as it entered the bosphorus, we could not withdraw our eyes from the magnificent panorama we were leaving behind us. constantinople then appeared to us in all its grandeur and beauty. seated like rome on its seven hills, exercising its sovereignty like corinth over two seas, the vast city presented to our eyes a superb amphitheatre of palaces, mosques, white minarets and green plane-trees glistening in an asiatic sunshine. what description could adequately depict this marvellous spectacle, or even give an idea of it? would it not be wronging creation, as lamartine has said, to compare constantinople with any thing else in this world? meanwhile, we were advancing up the bosphorus, and the two shores, fringed all along to the black sea with cypress groves, and half hidden beneath their sombre shade, invited a share of that attentive gaze we had hitherto bestowed only on the great city that was vanishing in our wake. the bosphorus itself presented a very animated scene. a thousand white-sailed caïques glided lightly over the waves, coming and going incessantly from shore to shore. as we advanced, the bosphorus widened more and more, and we soon entered that black sea, whose ominous name so well accords with the storms that perpetually convulse it. a multitude of vessels of all kinds and dimensions, were anchored at the entrance of the channel, waiting for a favourable wind to take them out of the straits, which alone present more dangers than the whole navigation of the black sea. the difficulties of this passage are further augmented in the beginning of spring and the end of autumn by dense fogs, which have caused an incalculable number of vessels to be wrecked on the steep rocks of these iron-bound coasts. the passage from constantinople to odessa is effected in fifty hours in the russian steamers, which ply twice a month from each of these ports. those who are accustomed to the comfort, elegance, and scrupulous cleanliness of the mediterranean and atlantic steamers, must be horrified at finding themselves on board a russian vessel. it is impossible to express the filth and disorder of that in which we were embarked. the deck, which was already heaped from end to end with goods and provisions, was crowded besides with a disgusting mob of pilgrims, mendicant monks, jews, and russian or cossack women, all squatting and lying about at their ease without regard to the convenience of the other passengers. most of them were returning from jerusalem. the russian people are possessed in the highest degree with the mania for pilgrimages. all these beggars set off barefooted, with their wallets on their backs, and their rosaries in their hands, to seek heaven's pardon for their sins; appealing on their way to the charity of men, to enable them to continue that vagabond and miserable life which they prefer to the fulfilment of homely duties. it was a sorry specimen of the people we were going to visit that we had thus before our eyes, and our repugnance to these muscovites was all the stronger from our recollections of the turks, whose noble presence and beauty had so lately engaged our admiration. on the morning of the second day, we saw on our left a little island called by the sailors the island of serpents. the russians have retained its greek name of fidonisi. it was anciently called leucaia, or makaron nesos (island of the blest), was sacred to achilles, and contained a temple, in which mariners used to deposit offerings. it is a calcareous rock, about thirty yards high and not more than in its greatest diameter, and has long been uninhabited. some ruins still visible upon it would probably be worth exploring, if we may judge from an inscription already discovered. soon afterwards we were made aware of our approach to odessa, our place of destination, by the appearance of the russian coast with its cliffs striated horizontally in red and white. nothing can be more dreary than these low, deserted, and monotonous coasts, stretching away as far as the eye can reach, until they are lost in the hazy horizon. there is no vegetation, no variety in the scene, no trace of human habitation; but everywhere a calcareous and argillaceous wall thirty or forty yards high, with an arid sandy beach at its foot, continually swept bare by the waves. but as we approached nearer to odessa, the shore assumed a more varied appearance. huge masses of limestone and earth, separated ages ago from the line of the cliffs, form a range of hills all along the sea border, planted with trees and studded with charming country-houses. a lighthouse, at some distance from the walls of odessa, is the first landmark noted by mariners. an hour after it came in sight, we were in front of the town. europe was once more before our eyes, and the aspect of the straight lines of street, the wide fronted houses, and the sober aspect of the buildings awoke many dear recollections in our minds. every object appeared to us in old familiar hues and forms, which time and absence had for a while effaced from our memories. even constantinople, which so lately had filled our imaginations, was now thought of but as a brilliant mirage which had met our view by chance, and soon vanished with all its illusive splendours. odessa looks to great advantage from the quarantine harbour, where the steamer moored. the eye takes in at one view the boulevard, the exchange, count voronzof's palace, the _pratique_ harbour, and the custom-house; and, in the background, some churches with green roofs and gilded domes, the theatre, count de witt's pretty gothic house, and some large barracks, which from their grecian architecture, one would be disposed to take for ancient monuments. behind the custom-house, on some steep calcareous rocks, sixty or seventy feet high, stands the quarantine establishment, looking proudly down on all odessa. a fortress and bastions crowning the height, protect the town. all the remarkable buildings are thus within view of the port, and give the town at first sight an appearance of grandeur that is very striking. the day of our arrival was a sunday; and when we entered the harbour, it was about four in the afternoon, the hour of the promenade, and all that portion of the town adjoining the port presented the most picturesque appearance imaginable. we had no difficulty in distinguishing the numerous promenaders that filled the alleys of the boulevard, and we heard the noise of the droshkys and four-horse equipages that rolled in every direction. the music, too, of a military band stationed in the middle of the promenade, distinctly reached our ears, and heightened the charms of the scene. it was, indeed, a european town we beheld, full of affluence, movement, and gaiety. but, alas! our curiosity and our longings, thus strongly excited, were not for a long while to be satisfied. the dreaded quarantine looked down on us, as if to notify that its rights were paramount, and assuredly it was not disposed to abrogate them in our favour. one of the officers belonging to it had already come down to receive the letters, journals, and passports, and to order us into a large wooden house, placed like a watchful sentinel on the verge of the sea. so we were forced to quit the brilliant spectacle on which we had been gazing, and go and pass through certain preliminary formalities in a smoky room, filled with sailors and passengers, waiting their turn with the usual apathy of russians. we had no sooner entered the quarantine, than we were separated from each other, and every one made as much haste to avoid us, as if we were unfortunate pariahs whose touch was uncleanness. all our baggage was put aside for four-and-twenty hours, and we were accommodated in the meantime with the loan of garments, so grotesque and ridiculous, that after we had got into them, we could not look at each other without bursting into laughter. we made haste to inspect our chambers, which we found miraculously furnished with the most indispensable things. but what rejoiced us above all, was a court-yard adorned with two beautiful acacias, the flowery branches of which threw their shade upon our windows. our guardian, who had been unable to preserve the usual gravity of a russian soldier at the sight of our ludicrous _travestissement_, surprised us greatly by a few words of french which he addressed to us. by dint of mangling our mother tongue, he managed to inform us that he had made the campaign of , and that he was never so happy as when he met frenchmen. on our part we had every reason to be satisfied with his attentive services. the first hours we passed in quarantine, were extremely tedious and unpleasant, in consequence of the want of our baggage. our books, our papers, and every thing we had most urgent need of, were carried off to undergo two whole days' fumigation. but afterwards the time passed away glibly enough, and i should never have supposed it possible to be so contented in prison. but for the iron bars and the treble locks which had to be opened every time we had occasion to leave our rooms, we might have fancied we were rusticating for our pleasure. a handsome garden, a capital cook, books, a view of the sea--what more could any one desire? we were allowed to walk about the whole establishment, on condition only that we kept at a respectful distance from all who came in our way, and that we were constantly accompanied by our guardian. on one of the angles of the rock there is a little platform, with seats and trees, looking down on the sea, the harbour, and part of the town. in this delightful lounging-place we often passed hours together, in contemplating the beautiful spectacle before us. what a lively source of endless enjoyment does the imagination find in a broad extent of sea animated by numerous vessels! the bustle of the harbour, the boats plying with provisions and passengers; the various flags flying from the mast-heads; the brig preparing to sail, with canvass unfurled, and the crew singing out as they tramp round the capstan; a sail suddenly appearing on the horizon, like a bird on the wing, gleaming in the sun, and gradually enlarging on the sight; the zones of light and shade, that scud athwart the sea's surface, and give it a thousand varying aspects; the coast, with its headlands, its lighthouse, its sinuous and indented lines, its broad beach and belt of rocks; all these things form a panorama, that completely absorbs the faculties. you envy the good fortune of those who are outward bound, and whose course lies over yon smooth expanse of water, limited only by the sky, in search of other shores and other scenes. you bid them farewell with voice and gesture as familiar friends, and wish them fair winds and good speed, as though they could hear you. we were then in the beautiful month of june; the placid sea was as limpid and bright as the sky; the acacia was coming into full bloom, and embalmed the air far over sea and shore with its delicious perfume. odessa is full of these trees, and when they are covered with their odorous blossoms, the streets, the squares, and even the meanest quarters, put on a charming gala aspect; the whole town is metamorphosed into a smiling garden. we feel bound to testify to the excellent arrangements of the quarantine establishment, and to the ready, obliging disposition of its officers. though placed in such propinquity to constantinople, the odessa lazaret may serve as a model of its kind, and the excellence of the system observed in it is proved by the happy results obtained. travellers are subjected to a quarantine of a fortnight only, and merchandise, after undergoing forty-eight hours' fumigation with preparations of chlorine, is immediately set free; yet since the existence of this establishment, there has not occurred in odessa a single case of plague which could be ascribed to any defect in the sanatory regulations of the place. there is no denying the fact that in matters of quarantine, france remains in the extreme background. the lazaret of marseilles, is at this day exactly what it was at the beginning of the last century. all our discoveries in chemistry and medicine have been of no avail against the inveterate force of old habits; and up to the present time, notwithstanding all the remonstrances of commercial men, it has been impossible to modify the sanatory regulations enforced in our mediterranean ports. marseilles is leagues away from the countries ravaged by the plague, and yet vessels are subjected there, after five-and-twenty days' navigation, to a quarantine of forty-five days, and their cargoes are exposed in the open air for the same period. it has been frequently proposed to establish a new system, more in accordance with the advanced state of our knowledge; but it seems that the efforts of the government have always been defeated by the prejudices of the inhabitants of the south. chapter ii. streets of odessa--jews--hotels--partiality of the russians for odessa--hurricane, dust, mud, climate, &c.--public buildings. the day of our release from quarantine, was as full of bustle and annoyances as that of our arrival, the _spolio_ alone excepted. how we regretted the freedom of the east! there the traveller's movements are shackled by no formalities, but he is free from the moment he quits his vessel, to roam about the town as he pleases, without being pestered with the custom-house and police officers, and the _employés_ of all sorts that assail him in lands calling themselves civilised. but it is in russia especially that he has most reason to pour out his wrathful imprecations on that army of birds of prey that pounce on him with an avidity truly intolerable. i can't tell how many formalities we had to go through from the hour appointed for our leaving the lazaret, until we finally got out of the clutches of the custom-house, and could breathe freely. but our feelings of vexation, strong as they were, gave way to downright stupefaction, when we entered the town. was this really that odessa which had seemed so brilliant when we saw it from the lazaret, and which now presented itself to our eyes under so mean and wretched an aspect? could we even grace with the name of town the place where we then were and the streets we beheld? it was a great open space without houses, filled with carts, and oxen rolling in the dust, in company with a mob of russian and polish peasants, all sleeping together in the sun, in a temperature of more than °. whirlwinds of dust exactly like waterspouts in all but the material composing them, darkened the air every moment, and swept the ground with incredible fury. further on, we entered a street wider than our highways in france, and flanked with little houses, one story high, and separated from each other by uncultivated gardens. the population consisting of jews, whose filth is become proverbial in russia, completed our disgust, and we knew not which way to turn our eyes to escape the sight of such loathsome objects. however, as we approached the heart of the town the streets began to show shops and houses, and the appearance of the inhabitants grew more diversified. but notwithstanding the carriages and droshkys that passed us rapidly, notwithstanding the footways of cut stone, and the grecian architecture of the corn stores, we reached the hotel de la nouvelle russie without having been able to reconcile ourselves to the aspect of the town; and there again we encountered fresh disappointments. we had been told by many of our acquaintances in constantinople that the hotels of odessa were among the best in europe; great, therefore, was our surprise at not finding any one of the commonest requisites for travellers in the one at which we stopped. no linen, no bells, no servants to wait on us; it was with difficulty we could get a carafe of water after waiting for it half an hour. our single apartment looked due south, and all the furniture in it consisted of a bedstead, a chest of drawers, and a few chairs, without a scrap of curtain to mitigate the blazing sunshine that scorched our eyes. and for such accommodation as this we had to pay eight rubles a day. but our amazement reached the highest pitch, when, after giving orders to fit up the bedstead which made so piteous a figure in this agreeable lodging, we were informed by the hotel keeper that every article was charged for separately. "what!" i exclaimed, in great indignation, "do we not pay eight rubles a day?" "certainly, madame, but accessories are never included in the charge for the room. but if madame don't like, there is no need to have a bed furnished completely. we have generals and countesses that are satisfied with a plain mattress." we had no desire to follow the example of their excellencies, so we were obliged to submit to our host's terms. it is fair to add, however, that circumstances to a certain extent justified some exorbitance of charge, for the emperor nicholas and his family were hourly expected, and the hotels were of course thronged with military men and strangers. odessa now lays claim to a respectable rank among the towns of europe. its position on the black sea, the rapid increase of its population, its commercial wealth, and its brilliant society, all concur to place it next in russia after the two capitals of the empire. though but forty years have elapsed since its foundation, it has far outstripped those half-sclavonic, half-tartar cities, kiev the holy, the great novgorod, and vladimir, all celebrated in the bloody annals of the tzars, and already old before moscow and st. petersburg were yet in existence. odessa is not at all like any of the other towns in the empire. in it you hear every language and see all kinds of usages except those of the country. nevertheless, the russians prefer it even to st. petersburg, for they enjoy greater liberty in it, and are relieved from the rigorous etiquette that engrosses three-fourths of their time in the capital. besides this, odessa possesses one grand attraction for the russian and polish ladies in the freedom of its port, which enables them to indulge their taste for dress and other luxuries without the ruinous expense these entail on them in st. petersburg. odessa is their paris, which they are all bent on visiting at least once in their lives, whatever be the distance they have to travel. the reputation of the town has even passed the russian frontiers, and people have been so obliging as to bestow on it the flattering name of the _russian florence_; but for what reason i really cannot tell. odessa possesses neither arts nor artists; even the dilettante class is scarcely known there; the predominant spirit of trade leaves little room for a love of the beautiful, and the commercial men care very little about art. it is true that m. vital, a distinguished french painter, has endeavoured to establish a drawing-academy under the patronage of count voronzof, but the success of his efforts may be doubted. the infatuated admiration of the russians for odessa is carried to the utmost extreme, and they cannot understand how a stranger can fail to share in it. how indeed can any one refuse to be enraptured with a town that possesses an italian opera, fashionable shops, wide footways, an english club, a boulevard, a statue, two or three paved streets, &c.? barbarian taste or envy could alone behold all this without admiration. after all, this enthusiasm of the russians may be easily accounted for: accustomed as they are to their wildernesses of snow and mud, odessa is for them a real eldorado comprising all the seductions and pleasures of the world. if you will believe the russians, snow is a thing of rare occurrence there, and every winter they wonder in all sincerity at the reappearance of sledges in the streets. but this does not hinder the thermometer from remaining steadily for several months at ° or ° r. below zero, and the whole sea from becoming one polished sheet of ice; nor does it dispense with the necessity of having double windows, stoves, and pelisses, just as in st. petersburg and moscow. great, therefore, is the surprise of the traveller, who, on the strength of its flattering _sobriquet_, expects to find an italian sun in odessa, and who meets at every step nothing but frost-bitten faces and sledges. besides these wintry rigours, there are the hurricanes that continually desolate the whole region, during what is elsewhere called the fine season. and these vicissitudes of the atmosphere are aggravated by another evil still more distressing, the dust, namely, which makes the town almost uninhabitable during a part of the year. dust is here a real calamity, a fiend-like persecutor, that allows you not a moment's rest. it spreads out in seas and billows that rise with the least breath of wind, and envelop you with increasing fury, until you are stifled and blinded, and incapable of a single movement. the gusts of wind are so violent and sudden as to baffle every precaution. it is only at sunset that one can venture out at last to breathe the sea air on the boulevard, or to walk in the rue richelieu, the wide footways of which are then thronged by all the fashion of the place. many natural causes combine to keep up this terrible plague. first, the argillaceous soil, the dryness of the air, the force of the wind, and the width of the streets; then the bad paving, the great extent of uncultivated ground still within the town, and the prodigious number of carriages. the local administration has tried all imaginable systems, with the hope of getting rid of the dust, and has even had stones brought from italy to pave certain streets, but all its efforts have been ineffectual. at last, in a fit of despair, it fell upon the notable device of macadamising the well-paved rue italienne and rue richelieu. the only result of this operation was, of course, prodigiously to increase the evil. a wood paving, to be laid down by a frenchman, is now talked of, and it appears that his first attempts have been quite successful. in order to give some idea of the violence of the hurricanes to which the country is subject, i will mention a phenomenon of which i was myself a witness. after a very hot day in , the air of odessa gradually darkened about four in the afternoon, until it was impossible to see twenty paces before one. the oppressive feel of the atmosphere, the dead calm, and the portentous colour of the sky, filled every one with deep consternation, and seemed to betoken some fearful catastrophe. for an hour and a half the spectator could watch the progress of this novel eclipse, which as yet was without a precedent in those parts. the thermometer attained the enormous height of ° f. the obscurity was then complete; presently the most furious tempest imagination can conceive, burst forth, and when the darkness cleared off, there was seen over the sea, what looked like a waterspout of prodigious depth and breadth, suspended at a height of several feet above the water, and moving slowly away until it dispersed at last at a distance of many miles from the shore. the eclipse and the waterspout were nothing else than dust, and that day odessa was swept cleaner than it will probably ever be again. during the winter the dust is changed into liquid mud, in which the pedestrian sinks up to mid-leg, and in which he might soon drown himself, if his humour so disposed him. a long pole to take soundings with, would not come amiss to one who had to steer his course between the slimy abysses with which some streets are filled. formerly, that is to say some fifteen years ago, ladies used to repair to the ball-room in carts, drawn each by a numerous team of oxen. at present the principal streets are paved and lighted, and one may proceed to an evening party in a rather more elegant equipage; but the poor pedestrian, nevertheless, finds it a most difficult task to drag his feet out of the adhesive mud that meets him whichever way he turns; those, therefore, who have no carriages in odessa, are obliged to live in absolute solitude. the distances are as great as in paris, and the only vehicle for hire is what is called in russia a droshky; that is to say, a sort of saddle mounted on four wheels, on which men sit astride, and ladies find it very difficult to seat themselves with decorum. the droshky affords you no protection from either mud, dust, or rain, and at most is only suitable to men of business and russians, who never go out of doors without their cloaks, even in the height of summer. odessa contains no remarkable building. in many private houses and in most of the corn warehouses, a lavish use has been made of the greek style of architecture, which accords neither with the climate, nor above all with the materials employed. all those columns, pediments, and regular façades, with which the eye is so soon satiated, are in plaster, and they begin to spoil even before the building is finished. the mouldings must be renewed every year, and notwithstanding this care, most of the houses and churches have an air of dilapidation, that makes them resemble ruins rather than palaces and temples. the cathedral itself has nothing to distinguish it but its bulk. one must not look for the rules of architecture, or for elegance of form, or pleasing details in the religious edifices. they are monotonous in character, and shabby in structure and fittings. their interiors are glaring with pictures and gilding, but all in the spurious taste of the lower empire. the oddly-accoutred saints, the biblical scenes so grotesquely travestied, the profusion of tinsel, and the reds, greens, and blues, laid one upon the other, in the coarsest discordance, far too disagreeably shock the sight to inspire any serious and pious thoughts. odessa has also some synagogues, a catholic church, and one or two protestant places of worship, which from their humble appearance might rather be taken for private houses. it has but one promenade, the boulevard, which overlooks the whole harbour, and is exposed, from its situation, to frequent landslips. the vicinity of this promenade is the most fashionable quarter. the theatre, the exchange, the mansions of count voronzof and the princess narishkin; a line of very elegant houses, and the throng of carriages, all bespeak the presence of the aristocracy. workmen have been employed for the last two or three years in constructing a gigantic staircase, to lead by a very gentle descent from the boulevard to the sea-beach. this expensive and useless toy, is likely to cost nearly forty-thousand pounds. it is intended to be ornamented with vases and statues; but some considerable fissures already give reason to fear the speedy destruction of this great staircase, which after all can never be of any use, except to the promenaders on the boulevard. chapter iii. the imperial family in odessa--church music--society of the place, count and countess voronzof--anecdote of the countess braniska--the theatre--theatrical row. the brilliant fêtes that took place on the arrival of the imperial family, happened most opportunely for us, and enabled us to see many celebrated personages. all the foreigners of distinction who had been present at the famous review of vosnecensk, followed the emperor to odessa, and prolonged their stay there after his departure. the whole town was in revolution. the houses of dubious colour were most carefully re-coated, and even old tumbling walls were plastered and coloured. te deum was chanted in the cathedral the day their majesties arrived; the emperor and his eldest son attended, and were met at the great doors by the whole russian clergy dressed in their richest robes, and headed by the archbishop. the emperor was accompanied by a long-train of courtiers and officers, whose golden embroideries and glittering decorations vied in splendour with the magnificent costumes of the popes and choristers. the te deum appeared to me incomparably beautiful. whoever would know the full power of harmony, should hear the religious music of the russians. the notes are so full, so grave, of such thrilling sweetness, and such extraordinary volume, and all the voices, seeming as though they issued from the depths of the building, accord so admirably with each other, that no language can express the effect of that mighty music and the profound emotion it excites. i had often heard enthusiastic accounts of the russian church-singing, but all fell far short of what i then heard. after the te deum the archbishop presented his episcopal ring to the tzar and the grand duke, who kissed it respectfully. the imperial party then left the cathedral, which was filled with clouds of incense. the vast throng, assembled in front of the building, dispersed in silence, without pressure or confusion; and the interference of the cossacks, appointed to maintain order, was not for a moment requisite. in the evening there was a grand illumination, the empress held a drawing-room, and there was an extraordinary representation at the theatre, at which the whole imperial family was present. it was noticed that during the whole evening, the emperor sat behind the empress and did not once advance to the front of the box. there was therefore not a single hurrah, but every one seemed to affect ignorance of his majesty's presence. next day the merchants gave a grand ball to the imperial family. it was a very brilliant assemblage: the exchange-rooms were all full of highnesses and excellencies, and the poor merchants cut but a sorry figure amongst all the embroidered uniforms, the wearers of which elbowed and pushed them aside contemptuously. with an excessive devotion to etiquette, they had adopted knee-breeches, cocked-hats, and a _soi-disant_ uniform, with swords at their sides; but this costume was far less becoming than the black dress which they would certainly have done better in retaining. a boudoir all lined with vines had been constructed for the empress, and the fine clusters of grapes hung from the branches as if to invite her royal hand to pluck them. the imperial family remained but five or six days in odessa, and then proceeded in a steamer to the crimea. their presence in the town produced on the whole a very favourable impression. it remains for us to say a few words respecting the society to be met with in odessa. it consists of so many heterogeneous elements, that it possesses no distinctive character of its own; french, germans, russians, english, greeks, and italians, all bring to it their respective opinions, habits, language, interests, and prejudices. the countess voronzof's drawing-rooms are the general rendezvous of that aristocratic, commercial, and travelling world, which is to be found in similar admixture only in some of the towns of italy. the same confusion prevails among the women; the noble and proud narishkin may be seen there side by side with a broker's wife: pure blood, mixed blood, all shades, all tones, all possible physiognomies are there assembled together. count voronzof is a veritable _grand seigneur_, and spends more than £ a year in pomps and entertainments. his name, his immense fortune, and his influence at court give him the predominance over most of the emperor's favourites. brought up in england, where his father was ambassador for more than forty years, he seems more an englishman than a russian, and has retained nothing of his nationality except his devoted loyalty to the emperor, and the exquisite politeness that distinguishes the russian nobles. his talents, his affability, and great facility of character, secure him numerous admirers amongst the odessians and foreigners. nicholas could not have made a better choice than in selecting him for governor of new russia. his sumptuous tastes and vast wealth give great _éclat_ to the rank he fills, and put him on a par with the most magnificent lords of europe. his wife is the daughter of the celebrated countess braniska, whose gigantic fortune was long an object of astonishment to the russians themselves. she died but recently at the age of ninety-five, leaving her immense fortune to her only son, with the exception only of a fourteenth part, which was all that devolved, according to the laws of russia, on her two daughters. her avarice was as notorious as her wealth, and stories are told of her, that far out-do all that is related of the most famous misers. i will mention but one of them, the authenticity of which was warranted to me by an eye-witness. mr. dantz, one of our friends, having had occasion to call on the countess, on matters of business, left his britchka in a court-yard of her house, in which there was some cattle. a large bundle of hay, intended for his horses, was hung behind the carriage, according to the usual custom in russia. being shown into a room that looked out into the court-yard, he became engaged in a brisk discussion with the countess, who would not yield to any of his arguments, and soon losing patience rose, as if to put an end to the interview, and walked to a window. but no sooner had she looked down into the court-yard than she again took up all the points of the discussion, one after the other, seeming half-disposed to yield, and keeping mr. dantz in suspense for more than a half an hour. exceedingly puzzled by this sudden change in the lady's temper, which he knew not how to account for, he narrowly watched all her movements, and observed that from time to time she cast a rapid glance into the court-yard; whereupon he went with affected carelessness to the window, and what did he see? two or three horribly lean cows busily devouring the hay behind his carriage. the countess had prolonged the interview in order to gain time for her cows to feed at her visitor's expense; and, accordingly, as soon as the last blade of hay was eaten up, she resumed all her stateliness, cut short the discussion with a word, and gave mr. dantz his congé. odessa is a town of pleasure and luxury, where the ladies, it is said, ruin their husbands by their profusion and extravagant love of dress. in addition to the balls, concerts, and soirées of all sorts, performances for the benefit of the poor are given every year in the great theatre, by the _court_, as the countess voronzof's establishment is called. all the _élite_ of odessa, take part in these amusements, which bring in considerable sums. the countess at first set the example, by herself performing a part; but an order from the emperor forbade her thus exhibiting in public, and since that time she confines herself to the business of managing behind the curtain. the house is always well filled, and each performance brings in four or five thousand rubles. the skill displayed by these noble actors is not to be surpassed by any professional company; but this is not surprising, for every one knows in how high a degree the russians possess the talent for imitation; whatever they see they mimic with ease, and without preparation. it is needless to add that the performances are in french, and that the pieces are taken from our stock. m. scribe is almost the sole contributor. nowhere, perhaps, is our witty vaudevillist so much prized as in russia. odessa possesses the only italian theatre in russia. the company is generally well composed, and gives, during the whole year, performances, which are but scantily attended, notwithstanding the passionate admiration which the odessians affect for italian music. it is only in the bathing season, when the poles fill the town, that the house presents a somewhat more animated appearance. all the rest of the year the boxes are almost deserted, and the jews alone frequent the pit. in , mademoiselle georges entered into a six months' engagement with the manager of the odessa theatre, and arrived with a numerous company, including some really superior actors. yet, notwithstanding her european celebrity and her ample _repertoire_, she would scarcely have covered her expenses, but for the strenuous exertions of her quondam admirer, general n., who welcomed her as though fifteen years had not interrupted their liaison, and placed his mansion, his equipages, his purse, and his credit, at her disposal, with all the chivalric gallantry of a russian magnifico. but all his efforts were unable to reverse the very unfavourable sentence which public opinion had, from the first, pronounced upon his protégé. notwithstanding the superior talent with which she still plays certain parts, she was appreciated but by a very small number of persons; and she left odessa with sentiments of deep disdain for a public that so much preferred the paltriest vaudeville to all her bursts of passion as to make almost open war upon her. a thing till then almost unheard-of in russia took place at the last performance of the french company: a regular cabal was formed, attended with an explosion of very stormy passions. the whole town was divided into two factions, the one for mademoiselle georges, the other for m. montdidier, one of her best actors. our tragedy queen, it is said, was exceedingly jealous of this preference, and lost no opportunity of mortifying her rival. accordingly, she purposely selected for the last performance, two pieces in which he had no part. the public, greatly dissatisfied at not seeing the name of their favourite actor in the bills, repaired to the theatre in an ill-humour, of which they soon gave very intelligible symptoms. things passed off, however, tolerably well until the end of the last piece; but then there was a call for montdidier, which was taken up, and vehemently sustained by the whole pit, notwithstanding all the efforts of the police, general n's coterie, and the presence of the governor-general. this incident which had been altogether unforeseen by the managers, caused them extreme perplexity; no one knew where montdidier was to be found. at last, seeing the row increase, count voronzof himself ordered the commissioner of police to go to montdidier's hotel, and fetch him alive or dead. the commissioner found him fast asleep, and quite unconscious of all the agitation he was causing in the theatre. he hurried thither, and was proceeding to show himself on the stage, but was stopped by the whole company with mademoiselle georges at their head, under pretext that such a course would be an infraction of all the rules of the theatre. in short, there was, for a while, an indescribable tumult. the whole pit stood up and never ceased shouting until they saw montdidier rush on the stage, with his dress in a state of disorder that showed what a hard battle he had sustained behind the scenes. the angry shouts were now succeeded by an explosion of applause; the boxes rang with prolonged bravos, and even count voronzof himself was seen clapping his hands and laughing with all his might. the whole audience seemed to have lost their wits. general n., quite disconcerted, slunk back into the rear of his box, and said to one of his friends as he pointed to the stage, "look at those frenchmen; they have only to show themselves to upset all established usages and principles. they bring with them disorder, rebellion, and the spirit of revolution; and the contagion soon spreads even among the most sensible people." in truth nothing of the kind had ever before been seen in odessa; and all the jealousies of the _primissime donne_ had never caused the twentieth part of the confusion that marked that memorable night. chapter iv. commerce of the black sea--prohibitive system and its pernicious results--depressed state of agriculture--trade of odessa--its bank. from the destruction of the genoese colonies in the crimea, in , down to the treaty of kainardji, a period of years, the black sea remained closed against the nations of the west, and was the privileged domain of turkey. its whole coast belonged to the sultans of constantinople, and the khans of the crimea. the turks, and the greeks of the archipelago, subjects of the ottoman porte, had the sole right of navigating those waters, and all the commerce of europe with that portion of the east was exclusively in the hands of the latter people. the conquests of peter the great, and subsequently those of the celebrated catherine ii., changed this state of things. the russians advanced towards the south, and soon made themselves masters of the sea of azof, the crimea, and all the northern coasts of the black sea. nevertheless, it was not until july , , after six consecutive campaigns, and many victories achieved by the russians, by sea and land, that the treaty of kainardji was signed, which by throwing open the bosphorus and the dardanelles, effected a real revolution in the commercial relations of europe, and definitively secured to russia that immense influence which it exercises to this day over the destinies of the east. the treaty of kainardji ere long received a more ample extension. austria, france, and successively all the other powers, partook in the advantages of the black sea navigation. russia was, therefore, justly entitled to the gratitude of europe, for the new channels she had opened to its commerce. once mistress of the black sea, and free to communicate with the mediterranean, catherine earnestly applied herself to the foundation of a port, which should be at once military and commercial. the mouth of the dniepr, one of the largest rivers of russia, at first attracted her attention. general hannibal founded the town of kherson upon it, in , by her orders; and in , a frenchman, afterwards ennobled by louis xvi., established the first foreign commercial house there, and contracted to supply the arsenals of toulon with the hemp and timber conveyed down the dniepr. kherson, however, did not prosper as might have been expected. the empress's intentions were defeated by the exigencies of the system of customs prevailing in the empire, and it was impossible to obtain for the port of kherson the franchises so necessary for a new town, and for the extension of its commerce. the dismemberment of poland gave a new turn to catherine's commercial ideas. the port of kherson was abandoned, or nearly so, in , and the preference was given to odessa, which, by its more western position, considerably facilitated the exportation of agricultural produce, wherein consisted the chief wealth of the palatinates of podolia, volhynia, and the other provinces newly incorporated with the russian possessions. no change, however, was made in the system of customs, and it was not until , in the reign of alexander, that a reduction of one-fourth was made in the duties imposed by the general tariff on all exports and imports in the harbours of the black sea. in , odessa was made an entrepôt for sea-borne goods, the entrance of which was permitted into russia. they might remain there in bond for eighteen months; a favour which was the more important at that period, because, as the import duties were considerable, the merchants would have been obliged to draw heavily on their capital, had they been obliged to defray them at once. an ukase of the th of march, in the same year, allowed transit, free of duty, to all foreign goods which were not prohibited in odessa, or which arrived there from other towns of russia; such goods if destined for moldavia and wallachia, were to pass through the custom-houses of mohelef and dubassar; for austria, through those of radzivilof; for prussia, through those of kezinsky; and foreign goods sent through these four establishments to odessa, were allowed free transit there by sea. these liberal and very enlightened arrangements vastly augmented the prosperity of odessa, and soon attracted the attention of all speculators to that port. about the year an increased duty was laid on all foreign goods in the black sea; but at the same period odessa was definitively declared to be a free port, without restriction. things continued thus until ; and it was during this interval that all those great foreign houses were established in odessa, some of which exist to this day. the commerce of southern russia had then reached its apogee. after the long wars of the french empire the agriculture of europe was in a very depressed condition, and it was necessary to have recourse to russia for the corn which other countries could not raise in sufficient quantity for their own subsistence. odessa thus became, under the wise administration of the duc de richelieu, one of the most active commercial cities of eastern europe; its population increased prodigiously; the habits induced by prosperity gave a new stimulus to its import trade, and every year hundreds of vessels entered its port to take in agricultural freights of all kinds. dazzled by this commercial prosperity, till then unexampled in russia, and, doubtless believing it unalterably established, the government then chose to return to its prohibitive system, and, whether through ignorance or incapacity, the ministry deliberately ruined with their own hands the commercial wealth of southern russia. in , at the moment when it was least expected, an ukase suppressed the freedom of the port of odessa, and made it obligatory on the merchants to pay the duties on all goods then in the warehouses. this excited intense alarm, and as it was totally impossible to pay immediately such enormous duties as those imposed by the general tariff of the empire, the merchants remonstrated earnestly and threatened, all of them, to commit bankruptcy. the governor of the town, dismayed at the disasters which the enforcement of the law would occasion, took it on his own responsibility to delay; and commissioners were sent to st. petersburg to acquaint the emperor with the state of commerce in odessa. alexander, whose intentions were always excellent, and who had no doubt been deceived by false reports, promptly annulled the ukase. the freedom of the port of odessa was therefore re-established, but not to the same extent as before. concessions were made to the board of customs, a fifth of the duties exacted in other russian ports was imposed on goods entering odessa, and the other four-fifths were to be paid on their departure for the interior. the limits of the free port were also considerably reduced, and two lines of custom-houses were formed, the one round the port, the other round the town. these lines still subsist. the victories of the board of customs did not stop here, and new measures, suggested and supported no doubt by fraud, were put in force. we have spoken of the free transit traffic through the towns of doubassar, radzivilov, and odessa. this traffic was increasing rapidly; all the merchants of western asia were beginning to take the odessa route to make their purchases in the great fairs of germany. there was every probability that odessa would be one of the principal points of arrival and exchange for all the produce of europe and asia. the transcaucasian provinces enjoyed very extensive commercial freedom at this period by virtue of an ukase promulgated, october , . redoutkalé, at the mouth of the phasis, on the shores of mingrelia, was then the port to which all the goods from leipsic were conveyed by sea; from thence they passed to tiflis and erivan, and were then distributed over all the adjacent countries, through turkey, armenia, and even as far as persia. the armenians had secured this traffic almost exclusively to themselves. they appeared for the first time in odessa in . the next year they advanced as far as leipsic, where they bought european manufactures to the amount of more than , francs; in their purchases rose to , , francs, and in to , , . all these goods were conveyed by land to odessa, and there embarked on the black sea for redoutkaleh. it may easily be conceived what a happy influence such a traffic would have exercised over the agriculture and cattle rearing of southern russia, and eventually on the prosperity of the population engaged in this carrying trade. but all these promising elements of prosperity were to be annihilated by the narrow views of the minister of finance. the commercial franchise of the caucasian provinces, after having lasted for ten years, was suddenly suppressed on the first of january, . the most rigorous prohibitive system was put in force; tiflis, the capital of georgia, more than miles from the black sea, was made the centre of the customs administration, and all goods destined for that part of asia had to pass through that town to be examined there and pay duty. by these arbitrary and exclusive measures, the government thought to encourage native manufactures; and by prohibiting the goods of germany, france, and england, it hoped to force the productions of russia on the trans-caucasian provinces. the transit trade was, of course, proscribed at the same period. by a first ukase, the merchants were forced to deposit at the frontier in radzivilof, double the value of their goods, and the money was only to be returned to them at odessa, upon verification of their bales. it is obviously not to be thought of that merchants, however wealthy, should carry with them, in addition to the capital to be expended on their purchases, double the value of their goods _in transitu_. this new measure, therefore, was sufficient of itself alone to put an entire stop to the transit trade. the persians and armenians forsook this route, and chose another, to the great detriment of russia. at present the value of the transit is from , to , francs, the goods being chiefly yellow amber, sent from prussia to turkey. for a charge of fifteen francs per twenty kilogrammes, the jews undertake to give security to the customs in title-deeds, which they hire at the rate of five or six per cent., and they despatch the goods directly to odessa. england, always so prompt to seize opportunities, took advantage of the blunders of russia. she secured a position in trebizond, and her merchants, recoiling from no sacrifice, formed there an immense entrepôt, from which they soon sent out the manufactures of their country into all the provinces of asia. business to the amount of more than , , _l._ sterling, is now carried on in trebizond, and two sets of steamboats ply between it and constantinople. thus russia lost one of the most important commercial lines in the world, and by her extravagant increase of duties she completely extinguished the lawful import trade of the caucasian provinces. but english and other foreign goods still find their way there by contraband, and the government officers are themselves the first to profit by this system; for they are still more desirous than the native inhabitants to procure manufactured goods, and, above all, at a moderate price. the prohibitive measures of russia have, therefore, really recoiled on the government itself, and the treasury loses considerably by them, not only in the caucasus, but also on the european frontiers. owing to the freedom of its port, the town of odessa, of course, suffers less from the disastrous effects of this prohibitive system, and finds some commercial resources in its own consumption, and in that of its environs. nevertheless, as this consumption, (which notwithstanding the contraband trade is kept in full vigour by the jews, and even by the highest classes,) is out of all proportion to the exportation, and as there is very little exchange traffic, foreign vessels are gradually deserting the black sea; and, besides this, their charges for freight are necessarily too high, in consequence of their being obliged in almost every instance to repair in ballast to the harbours of south russia. then we must take into account the remoteness of the black sea; the dread, not yet quite effaced, with which it is regarded; the impossibility of finding freights anywhere except in odessa; the excessive severity of the winter, and the usual obstructions of the harbours by ice during three or four months every year. all these things combine to repel mariners; so that nothing, except extraordinary cheapness and great profits, could induce merchants to send their vessels for freight to the ports of southern russia. thus driven away by the prohibitive system of russia, many nations are seeking to establish markets for their productions elsewhere. it is also to be remarked that agriculture has made very great progress in europe since the re-establishment of peace; and consequently the exportation of corn from russia has considerably diminished. nevertheless, we are of opinion that southern russia would have lost little of its agricultural importance, notwithstanding its system of customs, if the government, instead of remaining stationary, had sincerely entered on a course of improvement. all circumstances seem to combine in new russia to make the productions of the soil as economical as possible, and to enable them to compete successfully with those of all other countries. the soil is virgin and very abundant; labour is cheap and the price of cattle extraordinarily low; whilst serfdom, by obliging thousands of men to employ at least half their time for the benefit of their lords, ought naturally to tend to diminish the price of bread stuffs. unfortunately the means of communication have been totally neglected, and the government has taken no steps to facilitate transport; in consequence of this the price of grain, instead of falling is constantly increasing, and merchants are no longer willing to purchase except in seasons of scarcity. the wheat sent to odessa from khivia, volhynia, podolia, and bessarabia, arrives in carts drawn by oxen. the journeys are tedious, the extreme rate of travelling being not more than fifteen miles a day; and they are costly, for the carriage of a tchetvert or seven bushels of corn varies from four to six rubles; moreover, the transport can only be effected between may and september in consequence of the deplorable state of the roads during the other seven months of the year. the result of all this is that wheat, though very cheap in the provinces we have mentioned, is quoted at very high prices comparatively at odessa, so as not to leave foreign speculators a sufficient profit to compensate for the length of the voyage to the black sea, the outlay of capital, and the enormous expenses caused by the quarantines to which many goods are subject. besides this, odessa is the only port that offers any facilities for commerce; kherson situated in the midst of a fertile and productive region, is only a harbour of export, and its commerce cannot possibly extend; for the ships destined to take in freight at that port must previously perform quarantine in odessa. all the landowners are therefore forced to send their produce to odessa, if they would have any chance of sale. but, as we have already observed, the means of communication are everywhere wanting. it must, indeed, be owned that the construction of stone-faced roads is attended with great difficulty, for throughout all the plains of southern russia the materials, are scarce and for the most part of bad quality, being limestone of a friable character. but might not the produce of a great part of poland, and of all new russia, be conveyed to odessa by the pruth, the dniestr, and the dniepr? the only goods conveyed down the dniestr consist at present of some rafts of timber and firewood from the mountains of austrian gallicia. the russian government has repeatedly been desirous of improving the navigation of the river in compliance with the desire of the inhabitants of its banks. a survey was made in , and again in . unfortunately all these investigations being made by men of no capacity led to nothing. an engineer was commissioned in to make a report on the works necessary for rendering the river practicable at jampol, where it is obstructed by a small chain of granite. he estimated the expense at , francs, whereas it was secretly ascertained that , would be more than enough. the project was then abandoned. thus with the best and most laudable intentions, the government is constantly crippled in its plans of amelioration whether by the incapacity or by the bad faith and cupidity of its functionaries. last year the subject of the navigation of the dniestr was again taken up, and it is even alleged that the russian government has given orders for two steam-vessels destined to ply on that river. the works on the dniepr are scarcely in a more forward state than those of the dniestr. it is known that below iekaterinoslaf the course of the river is traversed by a granite chain, which extends between that town and alexandrof, a distance of more than fifteen leagues. at the time of the conquest of the crimea and the shores of the black sea, it was proposed to render navigable the thirteen rapids that form what has been improperly denominated the cataracts of the dniepr. works were begun at various times, but always abandoned. they were resumed under nicholas with new ardour, but the government was soon discouraged by the enormous cost, and, above all, by the peculations of its servants. the whole amount of work done up to the present time is a wretched canal yards long, more dangerous for barges to pass through than the rapids themselves. this canal was finished in . the works had not yet been resumed when we left russia in . the rapids of the dniepr are therefore still as impracticable as ever, and it is only during the spring floods, a period of a month or six weeks, that barges venture to pass them; and even then it rarely happens that they escape without accident. more than eighty men were lost in them in , and a multitude of barges and rafts were knocked to pieces on the rocks. the goods that thus descend the dniepr consist almost exclusively of timber and firewood, and siberian iron. corn never makes any part of the cargo, because in case of accident it would be lost beyond recovery. but what will really seem incredible is, that the german colonists settled below the rapids, are obliged to convey their produce to the sea of azov in order to find any market for it; hence the greater part of the government of iekaterinoslaf, and those of poltava and tchernikof, watered by the dniepr, are in a perpetual state of distress, though they have wheat in abundance; and the peasants sunk into the deepest wretchedness, are compelled every year to make journeys of miles, and often more, to earn from six to seven francs a month in the service of the landowners on the borders of the black sea. the eastern part of the government of iekaterinoslaf profits by the vicinity of the sea of azov, and tries to dispose of its corn in taganrok, marioupol, and berdiansk, a port newly established by count voronzof. this general survey of the means of transport possessed by russia, is enough to show that the corn-trade of these regions owes its vast development in a great measure to fortuitous circumstances; and that the absence of easy communication, and the prohibitive system, both tend to bring it down lower and lower every year. here follows a statement of the price of corn at tulzin, one of the least remote points of volhynia, and the cost of carriage to odessa, during the years - , and , , . - . rubles. - - . price of kilogrammes of wheat on the spot . . cost of carriage to odessa . . export duties . . ------- -------- total . . or _ s. d._ _ s. d._ from this table we see that prices rose remarkably during the latter years. we must remark, however, that the years - - , were unusually productive, and the prices prevailing in them are by no means an average. but it is altogether obvious that with such prices, and an absolute blank in importation, the commerce of southern russia must necessarily perish. in , the merchants could only offer the masters of merchant vessels two-and-a-half francs per sack for freight to marseilles, while the latter can hardly realise any profit even at the rate of four francs. for trieste they offered only twenty, and even eighteen kreutzers, whereas not less than sixty will yield any remuneration. ship owners will not henceforth be tempted to visit odessa in quest of gain. the english alone have obtained tolerable freights. to all these causes of ruin are to be added the enormous charges to which merchants are subject; those of the first class pay rubles for their licence, always in advance; the postage charges for letters are exorbitant; there are persons whose yearly correspondence costs , , , , , rubles. an ordinary letter to london pays seven and even eight rubles. again, the great merchants not choosing to sit idle, keep up the high prices by their purchases: they may no doubt gain occasionally by these speculations, but they generally lose. witness the disasters and failures of the year . what chance of prosperity can there be for a trade that at the moment of the departure of the goods, hardly ever promises any profit at the current prices in the place of destination, and which consequently lives only on the hope of an eventual rise? how will it be with it in a few years, when the canals and railroads projected in germany, shall have been finished? at this day the wheat of nuremberg and bamberg, reaches england by way of amsterdam. but without going so far, southern russia now sees growing up against it in the black sea a competition, which is daily becoming more formidable. the principalities of the danube, have made immense progress in ten years, in consequence of the franchises and privileges bestowed on them by the treaty of adrianople. galatz and ibraïla, now furnish a considerable quantity of corn to the foreigner; and in spite of the disadvantages of having to ascend the danube, masters of vessels now prefer repairing to those ports on account of their administrative facilities, and above all by reason of the commercial resources which importation offers there. in , marseilles bought more than hectolitres of wheat in the markets of galatz and ibraïla, whilst the port of odessa hardly supplied it with twice that quantity. we will return by and by to the question of the danube, when we come to speak of bessarabia. another measure fatal to the corn-trade, was the decision of the government with respect to the confiscated lands of the poles. after the revolution of , more than , peasants were sequestrated to the crown. these peasants occupied extremely fertile regions lying very near odessa: ouman, the property of alexander potocki, made part of them. the government committed the management of these lands to public servants, selected chiefly from among the retired veteran officers, or those who had been incapacitated for service by their wounds. under such management, pillage and the most utter neglect were the order of the day, and the consequence was, that the lands produced literally nothing to the crown, and served only to enrich their administrators. weary of this disorder, the government determined in to detach nearly , peasants from these lands, and incorporate them with the military colonies. nor did it stop there, but under pretext of removing all opportunity for extortion on the part of its servants, it issued an order in , confining the new colonists to the cultivation of oats and barley, and forbidding them to sow wheat for exportation. these regulations, occasioned by the general corruption of the public servants, which the imperial will is powerless to check, produced melancholy results for the trade of odessa, and that town was suddenly deprived of the agricultural produce it used to draw from the fertile soil of ouman. we must now enter into some considerations, bearing more immediately on odessa itself. the credit that town enjoys abroad is extremely limited by the inordinate privileges of the imperial bank. in cases of bankruptcy, that establishment is entitled to disregard all competing claims, and to pay itself immediately by the sale of the real and personal property of its debtor, without reference to his other creditors; it is entitled to pay itself: st. the capital lent; nd. a surcharge of eight per cent., called re-exchange, arising out of the cost of brokerage and renewal of bills every three months; and, rd. interest on the capital and surcharge, at the rate of - / per cent, per month, until the whole debt is liquidated. the fatal effects of such a system may easily be conceived; the merchants of odessa can seldom establish a credit with foreign houses. as for the uses of the bank, they consist: st. in discounting town bills that have not more than four months to run; nd. in making advances on goods; rd. in serving as a bank of deposit for the mercantile houses; th. in giving drafts on the other banks of the empire, and paying their drafts on itself; th. in receiving deposits on interest. the drafts were of great use in commerce, particularly for the payments between st. petersburg, moscow, and odessa: the charge upon them was a quarter per cent., whilst the conveyance of money through the post costs one per cent., besides postage. this convenient system was unfortunately put an end to in . the charge on drafts now amounting to five per cent., operations of this kind have consequently become impossible. it was, probably, with a view to the revenues of the post-office, that this sage measure was adopted by the minister of finance. every one knows, that in order that a bank of discount should carry on business profitably for itself and for the commerce it is intended to assist, it must deal only in genuine commercial bills. merchants recognise as genuine and discountable bills, only those drawn by other places for banking operations, and home bills drawn in consideration of goods sold for payment at a determinate future date. now the odessa bank not being a bank of issue, does not practise acceptance properly so called; constantinople is almost the only town that draws on odessa, and that but for small amounts, and as these acceptances are at twenty-one days' date, they are rarely discounted. sales of goods for bills are also seldom practised, and from all we could learn, we believe they make but a very small part of the business of the odessa bank. goods are generally bought in that town on trust and without bills. on what bases then have the operations of the odessa bank hitherto rested? rather, we are disposed to think, on fictitious than on real commerce. from its first establishment, the bank, strong in its privileges, thought to serve trade by encouraging discounts; and the facilities it afforded, induced many persons to avail themselves of this means of credit. every one in odessa knows how many disasters have been the consequence. suppose a merchant wished to make a speculation, to buy for instance, a ship-load of wheat, amounting to , _l._; if he had only , or , rubles capital, he obtained the indorsement of one or more of his friends, and the bank immediately advanced him the whole sum necessary, at three months. the merchant was, therefore, forced to dispose of his goods as fast as possible, in order to meet his engagements with the bank: clogged and disturbed in his operations, and fearing lest he should involve his friends, he must often have incurred great losses, and after a few similar speculations, his ruin, and that of his friends were inevitable. such has been the fate of many a merchant, in consequence of the unfortunate facility they found in obtaining money. the bank ought to have been aware, that instead of genuine commercial bills, it was discounting mere accommodation paper, and that there is an immense difference between discount for the realisation of business actually done, and discount for the realisation of business yet to be done. unquestionably, the bank ought to have modified its system, after seeing the mischiefs it led to; but it has persisted in its original course, and were it to desist from it without a radical change of institutions, the operations of an establishment constructed on so vast a scale would become quite insignificant. hitherto, then, the bank of odessa has completely failed to answer the purpose for which it was founded; it has done infinitely more harm than good to trade, and its enormous privileges have, moreover discredited odessa abroad. the abolition of these privileges could repair the errors and mischiefs of the first establishment. the bank would thereby be compelled to discount only genuine commercial paper, and to do business on a much smaller scale; but its operations, though restricted, would be but the more advantageous for itself and for commerce; every one would then conduct his business with, reasonable regard to the extent of his means; failures would no longer be so ruinous to creditors; and this new bank, in correspondence with those of st. petersburg and moscow, by continuing to make transfers as in the beginning, and by accepting deposits at four per cent., would suffice for all the wants of the place. unfortunately, judging from the last measure adopted with respect to transfers, there is no hope whatever that a new bank will be established, or that the existing one will undergo the requisite reforms. yet if the russian government, which persists in its prohibitive system, wishes to avoid the complete destruction of the commerce of southern russia, it must absolutely change its line of conduct, it must devote its strenuous attention to the means of internal communication, and render the commercial transactions of odessa as easy and economical as possible. what is most deplorable in russia is, that the truth never finds its way to the head of the state, and that a public functionary would think himself undone if he disclosed the real state of things; hence in the memoirs, reports, and tables laid before the emperor, the good only is acknowledged, and the evil is always disguised. once committed to this course of dissimulation and lying, the public functionaries render all improvements impossible; and by always sacrificing the future to the present, do incalculable mischief to the country. the question is now entertained, of depriving odessa of its last franchises, and putting its port on the same footing with the other commercial places of the empire. if count cancrine has not yet succeeded in doing this, the town has to thank the protection and the influence of count voronzof. the following table shows the exports and imports at the different ports and custom-houses of southern russia, during the years and , the value being set down in paper rubles. exports. --------------------------+---------------------+---------------------- ports. | . | . --------------------------+----------+----------+----------+----------- | goods. | specie. | goods. | specie. | | | | odessa | , , | , | , , | , ismael (on the danube) | , , | , | , , | reny (on the danube) | , | , | , | , {novoselitza| , , | , | , , | , in bessarabia {skouliany | , | , | , | , {leovo | , | , | , | , taganrok | , , | " | , , | marioupol | , , | " | , , | berdiansk | , , | " | , , | kertsch | , | " | , | theodosia | , , | " | , | eupatoria | , , | " | , , | balouclava | | | | |----------+----------+----------+----------- total | , , | , | , , | , imports. --------------------------+---------------------+---------------------- ports. | . | . --------------------------+----------+----------|----------+----------- | goods. | specie. | goods. | specie. | | | | odessa | , , | , , | , , | , , ismael (on the danube) | , | , , | , | , reny (on the danube) | , | , | , | , {novoselitza| , | , , | , | , , in bessarabia {skouliany | , | , | , | , {leovo | , | , | , | , taganrok | , , | , , | , , | , , marioupol | | , | | , , berdiansk | " | , | " | , kertsch | { , | | { , | theodosia | { , | , , | { , | , , eupatoria | { , | | { , | balouclava | , | | | +----------+----------+----------+---------- total | , , | , , | , , | , , total of duties| " | , , | " | , , --------------------------+----------+----------+----------+---------- the foreign goods that entered the interior of the empire in , by way of odessa, amounted in value to , , paper rubles, which, curiously enough, was not even half the total importation of that port. from this we may judge of the consumption of odessa, and at the same time of the extent of the contraband trade. from these tables we see that there is no equilibrium in the trade of odessa. southern russia absorbs every year more than , , of foreign specie, and its exports are treble its imports. it is evident that such a trade rests on no solid basis; that its prosperity is due only to accidental circumstances, and that ships will gradually abandon the black sea, and seek some other destination, wherever agriculture flourishes, and is accompanied by a less exclusive system of customs. in the present state of things, the cultivation of corn in egypt would be enough to ruin immediately all the ports of southern russia. with such contingencies before it, the government of russia ought to ponder well before obstinately persevering in its present system. mariners do not like the northern parts of the black sea, and once they shall have left them, they will return to them no more. the year was most memorable in the commercial history of odessa. the exports, consisting almost entirely of corn, amounted to , , paper rubles. the harvests in the country had been very abundant, and as those of the rest of europe were very unpromising, the demand was at first so encouraging that the merchants launched out into the boldest speculations. these were successful for a while, but disasters soon followed, and the houses which were supposed to have realised profits to the amount of millions, failed a year or eighteen months afterwards. since that time trade has always been in a perilous state. in , under the still subsisting influence of the movement of the preceding year, there was a diminution of , , rubles; and in the first quarter alone presented a decrease of , , rubles in comparison with the corresponding quarter in . on examining a general table of the exportation of odessa, we see that during napoleon's wars its commerce, completely stationary, did not exceed five or six millions of rubles. after the events of , during the horrible dearth that afflicted all western europe, the exports rose in to more than , , . in they fell without any transition to , , . during the war of - they sank to , , . after the treaty of adrianople, southern russia, being encumbered with an excess of produce, the exports again rose to , , . after this they varied from twenty to thirty, until when they reached the highest point they ever attained, namely, , , . we have already explained the causes of this factitious augmentation. from these data we see that the activity of the trade of odessa has always arisen out of fortuitous circumstances, which are becoming more and more rare, and that it is by no means the result of the progressive development of agricultural resources: the country is, therefore, completely stationary. it is also easy to convince ourselves, by simple comparison, that the commerce of southern russia is far from prosperous. in , the most productive year, the custom-houses yield but , , rubles; and ten seaports distributed over more than leagues of coast, together with three land custom-houses, show on an average but from forty-five to fifty-five millions of exports, and hardly a third of that amount of imports; whilst trebizond alone annually sends out more than , , worth of english goods into the various adjoining countries. chapter v. navigation, charge for freight, &c. in the black sea. of all the seaboard of the east, the coasts of the black sea are those from which the expense of freight are the greatest. different circumstances combine in producing this effect. . the amount of importation being inconsiderable, most of the vessels must arrive in ballast, or with a very scanty cargo. . the vessels are exposed to long delays in the archipelago, and still more so in the dardanelles and the bosphorus. fifty days may be taken as the average duration of the voyage from marseilles, genoa, leghorn, or trieste, to odessa. it does not take longer to reach america from the same ports, by a voyage at once less difficult and more lucrative. . the black sea is situated at the extremity of the inland seas of europe, and its coasts, which have little traffic, especially with each other, offer few resources to merchant vessels; so that if there is nothing profitable to be done at odessa or taganrok, a ship has no alternative but to take freight at ruinously low prices, or to return in ballast, and retrace some hundred miles of a route on which it has already incurred such delays. certain merchants often take advantage of the distressing position of the masters, and for many years past, a part of the profits on some goods sent to the mediterranean, has regularly consisted in the sacrifices to which the shipowner has been compelled. . the passage through the straits of constantinople subjects vessels freighted in the russian ports for those of the mediterranean, to a quarantine which, besides consuming from thirty-five to forty days, always entails considerable expense. it is generally reckoned that it takes a vessel fully six months to accomplish the voyage both ways between a mediterranean port and odessa, and to get _pratique_ again, even supposing it to have tolerably favourable winds, and to obtain cargo almost immediately in the black sea, a thing which unhappily occurs very seldom. now a mediterranean brig of tons, or , tchetverts' burden, has a crew that costs at least rubles a month for wages and keep. if we add to this, for wear of rigging, insurance, and harbour-dues rubles, we shall have more than rubles a month for ordinary expenses, without reckoning what storms and other casualties may occasion. thus the cost of a six months' voyage will amount to rubles. before , the average price of freight in paper rubles was as follows: per per tchetverts, tchetvert. or tons. for constantinople . , trieste . , leghorn . , genoa . , marseilles . , holland . , england . , from this table it appears that the freights did not pay the ordinary expenses of the vessels, with the exception of those bound for england, holland, and genoa, under the sardinian flag. odessa has hardly any intercourse with the portion of the black sea coast subject to the sultan, but it often furnishes cargoes for the banks of the danube, to vessels of not more than twelve feet draught. these vessels usually proceed to galatz and ibraïla. those which have no return cargo, touch at toultcha and isacktcha, to take in firewood; others ship a cargo at galatz and ibraïla, for constantinople and the mediterranean. good prices for freight are generally procured in the danube, particularly of late years. the progress of agriculture in the principalities, and the facilities met with in their ports, attract foreign captains, and many of them have entirely forsaken odessa for galatz. the government supplies, the war in the caucasus, and private speculations likewise afford employment to a certain number of vessels between odessa and the russian provinces of the black sea, and the sea of azov. the prices of freight in these cases depend on the greater or less demand, but they are always kept very low by the competition of kherson _lodkas_ (large coasting vessels). these lodkas ply at a very cheap rate, but they are exposed to risks which ought to make them less sought after than better built and better commanded vessels. the passage from odessa to taganrok, is tedious and expensive, above all for vessels which are obliged to be accompanied with lighters, in order to pass the straits of kertch where the waters are low, and must then anchor in the taganrok-roads, at a distance of ten from the shore. we may confidently estimate the voyage between taganrok and odessa both ways, as of two months' duration. thus navigation is hardly more prosperous than trade itself. if it has hitherto maintained a part of its activity, this must be attributed to the great number of vessels belonging to the mediterranean, to the influence of a past period, fertile in profit, and to commercial routine. nevertheless, a revolution is gradually taking place, and already many vessels that formerly frequented the russian ports, have found means to employ themselves advantageously on the ocean. we find their names mentioned in foreign journals, in the shipping intelligence from america and india, and it is probable they are quite as successful there as others that have not yet chosen to visit the coasts of southern russia. chapter vi. agriculture and manufactures of southern russia--mineral productions--russian workmen. in justification of its prohibitive system, the government alleges the protection and encouragement it owes to native industry. now it is evident that absolute exclusion cannot favour industry. the high tariff, it is true, seems to secure a certain market for russian manufactures; but it results from it that those manufactures, being kept clear of all competition, are worse than stationary; for the manufacturers, whose number is very limited, agree among themselves to turn out exactly the same sort of workmanship, and in the same proportion. moscow is now the centre of all the manufactures of silk, cotton, and woollen stuffs, shawls, &c.; yet, in spite of all the privileges secured to those establishments by the tariff, a great number of them have failed of late years. their goods have become so bad that they could no longer compete in sale with smuggled articles. in , or , the emperor made a journey to moscow, on purpose to preside over the meeting of manufacturers; but unfortunately ukases and proclamations are inefficient to create a body of manufacturers; the imperial desires in nowise altered the face of things. there are at this day, in russia, two great branches of manufacturing industry, one of which, employing the raw materials furnished by the soil, such as iron, copper, and other metals, belongs properly to russia, and has no need to fear foreign competition. it is true we cannot speak very highly of the russian hardware and cutlery, but they find a sure sale, the inhabitants caring more for cheapness than quality. the most important manufactures of this sort are established at toula, and in the government of nijni novgorod; the materials are furnished by siberia. the ural is one of the most remarkable mountain chains on the globe, for the extent and variety of its mineral wealth. i say nothing of its gold, silver, and platina ores; they add too little to the real prosperity of the country to call for mention here. the iron ores of siberia are generally of superior quality; but as the processes to which they are subjected, are somewhat injudicious, the iron produced from them is seldom as good as it might be. the working of the iron mines has been a good deal neglected of late years, landowners having turned their attention chiefly to the precious metals; hence the prices of wrought and cast iron have risen considerably in southern russia, which employs those of siberia exclusively. the carriage is effected for this part of the empire by land; in one direction by the volga, the don, and the sea of azov, in another by the dniepr. the journeys are long and expensive, and often they cannot be effected at all in consequence of irregularities either in the arrivals, or in the river floods. the present price of pig-iron is from eighteen to twenty francs for the kilogrammes, and of bar-iron from forty-four to forty-five francs, in kherson and odessa. i do not know the prices at the places where the iron is produced, but whatever they may be, these figures show how much russia has yet to do towards facilitating the means of internal communication. of copper, lead, &c., notwithstanding the cost of carriage, russia exports a considerable quantity to foreign countries. not content with these valuable sources of wealth, which alone would suffice for the support of a vast and truly national industry, russia has thought it desirable to create for herself a manufacturing industry such as exists in other countries of europe, and to arrive at this end she has devised a system of the most absolute prohibition. how far has she been successful? of all european countries russia is unquestionably placed in the most unfavourable circumstances for contending with foreign manufactures. situated as she is at the extremity of europe, she can only be reached by long, difficult, and expensive routes; and as her manufactures of stuffs, silks, &c., are all concentrated in moscow, the expenses of carriage are enormous. thus the cottons landed in odessa are first carried to moscow, and then return, after being wrought, to the governments of the black sea. the want of capable and intelligent workmen is also one of the most serious obstacles to the establishment of manufactures; the russian peasant is essentially agricultural, and knows nothing of handicraft trades, except so far as they are of service to him in his daily labours; and then, by constitution and by the effects of that long slavery that has weighed and still weighs upon him, his ideas are naturally contracted and can never apply themselves to more than a single object. the sole talent he possesses in a really remarkable degree is that of imitation. the black enamelled work of the caucasus is admirably imitated at toula; and at lughan, in the government of iekaterinoslaf, they make very pretty things in berlin iron, copied from prussian models. this talent for imitation is no doubt valuable in the workshops where they are constantly making the same set of things, and in the same way; but it becomes completely inefficient in the manufactories for piece-goods, in which there must be incessant innovation and improvement: hence we find all the great manufactories, after being at first managed by foreign superintendents and workmen, fall gradually into decay from the moment they are transferred to native hands. the russians are essentially destitute of imagination and the spirit of invention; and then the proneness of the workmen to laziness and drunkenness cannot but be fatal to industry. the workman is always seeking some pretext to escape from labour; he has his own calendar, in which the number of holidays is doubled; these he employs in getting drunk, and the days following them in sleeping off his liquor. the result is, that he passes half the year in doing nothing, that he strives to sell his day's work at the dearest possible rate, and that the working time being thus indefinite, it is impossible to fix punctually the time of production. this unhappy moral condition of the labouring classes is the same throughout all russia, and may be regarded as one of the worst evils incidental to the native industry. to these obstacles, proceeding from the very nature of the people, are superadded physical difficulties no less imperious. in france, england, and germany, when any new manufacture is established, it always rests on other branches already in existence, and about which it has no need to employ itself. in russia, on the contrary, in order to succeed in any branch of manufactures, it is necessary at the same time to create all the accessories connected with it. every one knows what a vast quantity of merino and other wools southern russia supplies, and it would seem at first sight that of all manufactures that of woollen cloths ought to offer the fairest chances of success in that country. but it is not so: i have visited two or three cloth factories on the banks of the dniepr belonging to foreigners, and managed by them with an ability beyond all praise; yet it was with the utmost difficulty and through the personal labour of their proprietors that they were able to subsist. the government itself, some years ago, erected at iekaterinoslaf one of the largest cloth manufactories i am acquainted with; the looms were set in motion by two steam-engines, and several hundred workmen were employed. the establishment, nevertheless, was closed after three years' existence, and i myself saw all the materials sold at a great depreciation. the number of manufacturing establishments of all sorts in russia amounted in to , and that of the workmen employed to , , not including those engaged in the mines and in the smelting-houses, forges, &c., belonging to them. we will enumerate as the most important branches of russian industry:-- establishments. manufactories of cloth and woollen stuffs silks cottons canvass and other linen goods tan yards tallow-melting houses manufactories of candles soap metal ware in this table the manufactories of woollen cloths, silks, and cottons, together figure but as ; and yet it is in a great measure to the supposed encouragement which the government desires to afford these branches of industry, that russia owes her system of customs; for setting aside a few objects of luxury, russia has no need to fear foreign competition with regard to any other articles. certainly, if the silk and cotton manufactures could exercise a beneficial influence upon the prosperity of the country, if they were necessary to supply the wants of the whole population, in that case we could to a certain extent understand the sentence of exclusion pronounced on foreign goods; but the productions of the moscow factories are destined only for the aristocracy and the trading classes, and the , , of slaves that constitute the european population of russia, consume but an insignificant portion of them, all their clothes being wrought by their own hands. it is not surprising then that all the manufacturing establishments are concentrated in moscow, that being the place where the aristocratic and trading part of the community exist in most considerable numbers, and where there is most certainty of finding customers. everywhere else the chances of success would be few or none: witness southern russia where all manufacturing attempts have hitherto failed, notwithstanding the advantages it derives from its seaports. the three governments composing it reckon at this day but workmen, even including those who work in the rope walks and the tallow houses. according to authentic documents the numbers of the nobility and tradespeople do not exceed , , . without a complete alteration, therefore, in the manners and habits of the peasants, it is impossible to hope that the manufacture of piece-goods can ever attain a great development, and it would have been infinitely better to have left the supply of these articles to importation; the imperial treasury would thereby have been a gainer, and more active relations with the foreigner would have afforded valuable guarantees for the prosperity of the country. but russia suffered herself to be seduced by the most brilliant branch of industry of our times; she, too, wished to have her cachemires and her silks; and not considering that agriculture is for her the most lucrative, the most positive of all branches of industry, she recoiled from no prohibitive measure in order to favour some indigenous manufactures. i say again, russia is before all things a country for the production of raw materials. agriculture, including therein the breeding of cattle, evidently forms the basis of the national prosperity, and it is only by facilitating its extension and its outlets that russia can hope to secure the future welfare of its people. if at this day the establishment of new villages in southern russia is becoming so difficult, it is not for want of land, but because the peasants have no means of ready transport for their produce, and because also the want of importation, naturally exercising a great influence upon the price of corn, signally restricts the demand from abroad. is it not indeed deplorable to see the most fertile and productive governments of new russia sunk in extreme penury by the want of roads, and by the culpable neglect of the administration which deprives them of the navigation of the rivers! will the government at last open its eyes to the mischiefs of the course it is pursuing? we can scarcely hope so. all the commercial reports of the empire dress up things in so fair a light, and the public functionaries agree so well together in falsifying public opinion, that the emperor, beguiled by the brilliant picture incessantly laid before his eyes, cannot but persevere in the fatal course adopted by his predecessors. chapter vii. departure from odessa--travelling in russia--nikolaÏef, olvia, otshakof--kherson--the dniepr--general potier-- ancient tumuli--steppes of the black sea--a russian village--snow storm--narrow escape from suffocation--a russian family--appendix. after some months' stay in odessa, we left it in company with general potier, a frenchman by birth, to pass the winter at his country-house. travelling would nowhere be more rapid than in russia, if the posting-houses were a little better conducted and more punctual in supplying horses. the country is perfectly flat, and you may traverse several hundred leagues without meeting a single hill. besides this, the russian driver has no mercy on his horses; they must gallop continually, though they should drop dead under the whip. another reason that contributes to the rapidity of posting, is, that there are never less than three or four horses yoked to the lightest vehicle. the general's carriage being rather heavy, we had six horses, that carried us along at the rate of fifteen versts (ten miles) an hour. we found the rooms in the posting-stations much more elegant than we had expected; but this was owing to the journey of the imperial family, for whom they had been completely metamorphosed. the walls and ceilings were fresh painted with the greatest care, and we found everywhere handsome mirrors, divans, and portraits of the emperor and empress. thanks, therefore, to the transit of their majesties, our journey was effected in the most agreeable manner, though on ordinary occasions, one must make up his mind to encounter all sorts of privations and annoyances in a long excursion through russia. the towns are so few, and the villages are so destitute of all requisites, that one is in sore danger of being starved to death by the way, unless he has had the precaution to lay in a stock of provisions at starting. the post-houses afford you literally nothing more than hot water for tea, and a bench to rest on. the russian and polish grandees never omit to carry with them on their journeys a bed with all its appurtenances, a whole range of cooking implements, and plenty of provisions. in this way they pass from town to town, without ever suspecting the unfortunate position in which the foreigner is placed who traverses their vast wildernesses. the latter, it may be said, is free to follow their example; but the thing is not so easy. supposing even that he was possessed of all this travelling apparatus, still the expense of carriage would imperatively forbid his taking it with him, whereas the russians, who generally travel with their own horses, may have a dozen without adding to their expenses. as for those who have recourse to the post, they care very little about economy, and provided they have a good dinner prepared by their own cooks, a soft bed and all other physical comforts, they never trouble themselves to calculate the cost. but as for the foreigner who travels in this country, the inconvenience i have just mentioned is nothing in comparison with the countless vexations he must endure, simply because he is a foreigner. having no legal right to lay his cane over the shoulders of the clerks of the post, he must make up his mind to endure the most scandalous impositions and annoyances at their hands, and very often he will be obliged to pass forty-eight hours in a station, because he cannot submit to the conditions imposed on him. neither threats nor entreaties can prevail on the clerk to make him furnish horses if it does not suit his humour. the epithet _particularnii tcheloviek_ which is applied in russia to all who do not wear epaulettes, and which signifies something less than a nobody, is a categorical reply to the traveller's utmost eloquence. before we reached kherson, we stopped at nicolaïef, a pretty town, which has been for some years the seat of the admiralty formerly established in kherson, and which is daily increasing at its rival's expense. its vast dockyards attract a whole population of workmen, whose presence swells its wealth and importance. its position on the bug, its new houses and pretty walks planted with poplars, make it the most agreeable town in the government. when we passed through it, a splendid ship of the line of three decks had just been completed, and was waiting only for the ceremony of being christened to take its place in the black sea fleet. four or five leagues below nicolaïef, on the right bank of the bug, near its embouchure in the liman[ ] of the dniepr, are the ruins of olvia or olviopolis, a milesian colony founded about b.c. there have been found inscriptions and medals which put the origin of these remains beyond all doubt. lower down on the liman of the dniepr, not far from the sea, is the fortress of otchakov, which formerly belonged to the turks, and then formed a considerable town, known by the name of ozou. it was twice taken by the russian troops on the th of june, , under the command of marshal munich, and on the th of december, , under potemkin. at present, not a trace of the turkish sway remains in the village. all the mussulman buildings have been pulled down to give place to a steppe, on which some russian cabins and about fifty miserable shops have been set up. the environs of otchakov also present traces of the abode of the ancient greeks. in there were found here a fragment of a bas-relief in tolerable preservation, a male torso, and an offering with an inscription from certain greek military chiefs to achilles, ruler of the pontus. otchakof was founded at the close of the fifteenth century, by mengli chereï, khan of the crimea, on the ruins of alektor, a little town belonging to a queen of the sauromatians, and which was destroyed probably by the getæ at the same time as olvia, b.c. alektor must have possessed specimens of greek workmanship, but they disappeared under the hands of the turks, who employed them in building otchakov. kherson, where we arrived in the evening, retains no relics of its ancient opulence, or of the importance it derived scarcely fifty years ago from its commerce, its port, and its admiralty; at present, it exhibits the melancholy spectacle of a town entirely ruined; its population does not exceed or souls. odessa and nicolaïef have dealt it mortal blows, and it now subsists only by its entrepôt for the various productions of the empire, which are conveyed to it by the dniepr, and forwarded by lighters to odessa. it has even lost its custom-house for imports, retaining only the privilege of exporting; and beside this, the vessels which take in cargo at kherson, must first perform quarantine in odessa. fevers and the jews are likewise formidable foes to its prosperity. expelled from nicolaïef and sevastopol, the israelites swarm like locusts in kherson, and form almost its whole population. nothing can be more hideous than the appearance of the russian jews. dressed in a uniform garb, consisting of a long robe of black calico, fastened with a woollen girdle, canvass drawers, and a broad-brimmed black hat, they all present so degraded a type of humanity, that the eye turns from them with deep disgust. their filthiness is indescribable; the entrance of a single jew into an apartment is enough suddenly to vitiate the atmosphere. we had already had occasion in odessa to see into what an abject state this people is fallen in russia; but it was not until we came to kherson that we beheld them in all their vileness. what a contrast between their sallow faces, disgusting beards, and straggling locks, plastered flat on the skin, their brutified air, and crawling humility, and the easy, dignified bearing, the noble features, and the elegant costume of the jews of constantinople! it is impossible to bring oneself to believe there is any thing in common between them, that they belong to the same race, and have the same rules and usages, the same language and religion. but the cause which has produced such a difference between two branches of one people, is a question involving political and philosophical considerations of too high an order, to be discussed here; all we can say, is that, in seeing the jews of kherson, and comparing them with their brethren of the east, we had evidence before us of the depth to which governments and institutions can debase mankind. the streets of kherson are thronged with these miserable israelites, who carry on every kind of trade, and recoil from no species of occupation, provided it be lucrative. their penury is so great, that they will run from one end of the town to the other for a few kopeks, and in this respect they are of much use to the stranger, who would be greatly embarrassed if they were not at hand, ready to render him every possible service. the moment a traveller arrives at an inn, in new russia, he is beset and persecuted without ceasing by these officious agents, who place at his disposal their goods, their persons, all they have and all they have not. it is to no purpose he threatens them and turns them out a hundred times; they care little for abuse; and do what you will, they sit themselves down on the ground opposite your door, and remain there with imperturbable phlegm, waiting their opportunity to walk in again, and renew their offer. many a time have we seen jews thus spend four or five hours consecutively, without evincing the least impatience, or seeming to regret the waste of time they might have employed more profitably, and go away at last satisfied with having gained a few kopeks. it was in the government of kherson that the plan of forming jewish colonies was first tried. several were established in the districts of kherson and bobrinetz, and in these contained nine villages, with a population of souls, settled on , _hectares_ of land. all the new colonists are wholly exempt from taxation for ten years; but after the lapse of that time, they are placed on the same footing as the other crown peasants, except that they remain free from military service for fifty years. the colonisation of these jews was no easy matter; at first, it was necessary to keep the most rigorous watch over them, to prevent them from leaving their villages. the colonists are all dependent on the governor-general of new russia, and each of their villages is under the control of a non-commissioned officer of the army. i have not the least idea of the object for which the government founded these colonies, which, as far as agriculture is concerned, can be of no use to the country. was its motive one of a philanthropic kind? i do not think so. i should rather suspect that the prospective advantages in a military point of view may have been the inducement, an opinion, which seems justified by the fact, that the russian government has found it necessary, for some years past, to enrol the jews by force in the naval service. the unfortunate men are chiefly employed as workmen, and i have seen great numbers of them in the arsenals of sevastopol and nicolaïef. the aspect of kherson is as dismal as that of nicolaïef is brilliant and lively. nothing is to be seen but dilapidated houses and abandoned sites, which give it the appearance of a town devastated by war. but viewing it from a distance, as it rises in an amphitheatre on the banks of the dniepr, with its numerous belfries, its barracks, and its gardens, one would be far from suspecting the sort of spectacle its interior presents. above all, one cannot conceive why a town in such a position, with a river close at hand, navigable for ships of war, should have been thus abandoned; but such has been the imperial will, and kherson, completely sacrificed to odessa, now shows scarcely any signs of life, excepting its great wool washing establishments, which employ hundreds of workmen, and its retail trade, which the jews monopolise. the only remains of its past greatness the town has preserved, are its title as capital of the government, and its tribunals. the governor resides in it, no doubt much against his will; but many great families have forsaken it on account of the fevers prevailing in it during a part of the year, with more fatal violence than in any other region. they are occasioned by the wide sheets of water left behind by the inundations of the dniepr, and which, finding no issue when the river returns to its bed, stagnate among the reeds, until the rays of the sun are strong enough to make them evaporate. fetid and pestilential exhalations then rise, and produce malignant and typhoid fevers that almost always prove mortal. the population of kherson, like that of all the other towns in southern russia, is a medley of jews, armenians, russians, greeks, italians, &c.; a few french have been long settled there, and have acquired some wealth; some deal in wood, others are at the head of the wool-washing establishments i have already mentioned. among the latter, there is a parisian, who, by dint of washing and rewashing wool, and that too on another's account, has managed to amass nearly , _l._ in less than eight years. the _lavoirs_ of mm. vassal and potier are the most considerable in kherson, giving daily employment to more than men. the dniepr seen from kherson, resembles a vast lake studded with islands; the views it presents are very beautiful, and partake very much of the character of maritime scenery. the estate we were going to lay on the other side of the river, and we had the pleasure of travelling about fifteen versts by water, through the labyrinth of islands, and a constant succession of the most enchanting views. we found horses waiting for us on the opposite bank, and in less than four hours we were at clarofka, our journey's end. m. potier, the proprietor of clarofka, is an ex-pupil of the polytechnic school, who was sent to st. petersburg by napoleon, with three colleagues, to establish a school of civil engineering. in , the government fearing lest they should join the french, sent them away to the confines of china, where they were detained more than two years. when our troops had evacuated russia, and the presence of these young men was no longer to be feared, the emperor alexander recalled them, and gave them each a pension of rubles, to indemnify them for their exile. from that time forth, they all made rapid progress in fortune and in honours. m. potier was for a long while director of the civil engineering institution. he is highly esteemed by the emperor nicholas, who wished to attach him completely to his court, by conferring on him a post of the highest importance, but m. potier always refused, and at last succeeded in obtaining permission to retire. he is the son-in-law of m. rouvier, who made himself popular in russia and even in france, by being the first to introduce the breed of merino sheep into southern russia. m. potier followed his father-in-law's example, and has more than , sheep on his estate. the estate of m. vassal, another son-in-law and successor of m. rouvier, is but a dozen versts from clarofka. it is larger than many a german duchy; but instead of the fertile fields and thriving villages that adorn germany, it presents to view only a vast desert with numerous tumuli, salt lakes, and a few sheep folds. these tumuli exact models of mole-hills, from ten to fifteen yards high, are the only hills in the country, and appear to be the burial-places of its old masters, the scythians. several of them have been opened, and nothing found in them but some bones, copper coins of the kings of bosphorus, and coarse earthen utensils. similar tombs in the crimea have been found to contain objects of more value, both as regards material and workmanship. this difference is easily accounted for; the milesian colonies that occupied part of the crimea years ago, spread a taste for opulence and the fine arts all through the peninsula; their tombs would, therefore, bear token of the degree of civilisation they had reached. they had a regular government, princes, and all the elements and accessories of a kingdom; whilst our poor scythians, divided into nomade tribes like the kirghises and kalmucks of the present day, led a rude life in the midst of the herds of cattle that constituted their sole wealth. agriculture could never have yielded much in these steppes, where rain is extremely rare in summer, where there are neither brooks nor wells for irrigation, and where hot winds scorch up every thing during the greater part of the fine season. it is only on the banks of the rivers that vegetation makes its appearance and the eye rests on cultivated fields and green pastures. there are indeed here and there a few depressions, where the grass retains its verdure during a part of the year, and some stunted trees spread their meagre branches over a less unkindly soil than that of the steppe; but these are unusual circumstances, and one must often travel hundreds of versts to find a single shrub. such being the general configuration of the country, it may easily be imagined how cheerless is the aspect of those vast plains with nothing to vary their surface except the tumuli, and with no other boundaries than the sea. no one who is unaccustomed to that monotonous nature can long endure its influence. those dreary wastes seem to him a boundless prison in which he vainly exerts himself without a hope of escape. and yet that flat and barren soil from which the eye turns away so contemptuously, has become a source of wealth to its present proprietors by the great success of the first experiments in merino sheep-breeding. it was m. rouvier, who first conceived the happy idea of turning the unproductive steppes into pasture. the emperor alexander, always ready to encourage liberal ideas, not only advanced the projector a sum of a hundred thousand rubles, but gave him even a man-of-war to go and make his first purchases in spain, and on his return, granted him an immense extent of land, where the flocks, increasing rapidly, brought in a considerable fortune to m. rouvier in a few years. his sons-in-law, general potier and m. vassal inherited it, and formed those great establishments of which we have spoken. thenceforth the stock of merinos increased with incredible rapidity in new russia; but an enormous fall in the price of wool soon occurred, and many proprietors have now reason to regret their outlay in that branch of rural economy, and are endeavouring to get rid of their flocks. the rams which fetched or francs in and , were not worth more than or in . in , a landowner of our acquaintance had made up his mind to part with his best thorough-bred rams for and even francs a head. the exportation of wool increased, nevertheless, during the last years of our stay in russia; but this was only because the landowners, after holding out a long while, found themselves at last constrained to accept prices one-half lower than those current a few years before, and to dispose of the wools they had long kept in their warehouses. here was another instance of the disastrous consequences of the russian prohibitive system; it has been as fatal to the wool-trade as to that in corn. clarofka is a village consisting of fifteen or twenty houses, each containing two families of peasants. it is some distance from the farm, which alone contains more dwellings and inmates than the whole village. the steward resides in a very long, low house, with small windows in the russian fashion, and an earthen roof, and standing at the edge of a large pond, the fetid exhalations from which are very unwholesome during the hot season. a few weeping-willows wave their branches over the stagnant water, and increase still more the melancholy appearance of the spot. the pond is frequented by a multitude of water-fowl, such as teal, gulls, ducks, pelicans, and kourlis, that make their nests in the thick reeds on the margin. beside the house, according to the russian custom, stand the kitchens and other offices, the icehouse, poultry-yard, wash-house, cellar for fruit and vegetables, &c. a little further on are the stables and coach-houses, containing a great number of carriages, caleches, droshkies, and a dozen horses; other buildings, including the workmen's barracks, the forge, the gardener's and the miller's dwellings are scattered irregularly here and there. two great wind-mills lift their huge wings above the road leading to the village. all this is not very handsome; but there is one thing indicative of princely sumptuousness, namely, an immense garden that spreads out behind the house, and almost makes one forget the steppes, so thick is the foliage of its beautiful alleys. one is at a loss to conceive by what miracle this park, with its large trees, its fine fruit, and its charming walks, can have thus sprung up out of the scorched and arid soil, that waits whole months for a few drops of water to clothe it in transient verdure. and indeed to create such an oasis in the heart of so barren a land, there needed not one miracle, but a series of miracles of perseverance, toil, and resolution, seconded by all the means at the disposal of a russian lord. all kinds of fruit are here collected together; we counted more than fifty varieties of the pear in one alley. grapes of all kinds, strawberries, beds of asparagus of incomparable flavour, every thing in short that the most capricious taste can desire, grows there in such abundance, that seeing all these things one really feels transported into the midst of regions the most favoured by nature. no one but a russian lord could have effected such metamorphoses. master of a whole population of slaves, he has never to pay for labour; and whims which would be ruinous to others, cost him only the trouble of conceiving them. in the dry season, which often lasts for more than five months, chain pumps worked by horses supply water to every part of this extensive garden, and thus afford what the unkind skies deny it. the work to be done in the spring season generally requires the labour of more than pair of hands daily, and during the rest of the year three-score peasants are constantly employed in pruning the trees, plucking up the weeds that rapidly spring up in the walks, training the vines, and attending to the flowers. in return for all this expenditure the general has the satisfaction of seeing his table covered with the finest fruits and most exquisite preserves; and for one who inhabits a desert these things unquestionably have their value. on the whole clarofka is a real _pays de cocagne_ for good cheer: the steppes abound with game of every kind, from grouse to the majestic bustard. a hunter is attached to the farm, and daily supplies the table with all the delicacies of this sort which the country affords. the sea also contributes abundance of excellent fish. it is evident, therefore, that in a gastronomic point of view it would be difficult to find a more advantageous residence; but this merit, important as it is, fails to make amends for the intolerable ennui one labours under in clarofka. thanks to the garden, one may forget the steppe during the fine season; and then there is the amusement of fishing, and of picking up shells on the sea-shore, so that one may contrive to kill time passably well. but what are you to do in winter, when the snow falls so thickly that you cannot see the houses, particularly when the _metel_ turns the whole country topsy-turvy? no language can give an idea of these _metels_ or hurricanes. they come down on the land with such whirling and driving gusts, such furious and continuous tempests, such whistlings and groanings of the wind, and a sky so murky and threatening, that no hurricane at sea can be more alarming. the snow is now piled up like a mountain, now hollowed into deep valleys, and now spread out into rushing and heaving billows; or else it is driven through the air like a long white veil expanding and folding on itself until the wind has scattered its last shreds before it. in order to pass from one house to another, people are obliged to dig paths through the snow often two yards deep. whole flocks of sheep, surprised by the tempest not far from their folds, and even herds of horses, have been driven into the sea and drowned. when beset by such dangers their instinct usually prompts them to cluster together in a circle and form a compact mass, so as to present less surface to the _metel_. but the force of the wind gradually compelling them forwards, they approach the shore, the ground fails them, and finally they all disappear beneath the waves. these tempests are generally succeeded by a dead calm, and an intense cold that soon changes the surface of the dniepr and the sea-shore into a vast mirror. this is the most agreeable part of the winter. the communications between neighbours are renewed; sporting expeditions on a great scale, excursions in sledges, and entertainments within doors follow each other almost without interruption. despite the intensity of the cold, the russians infinitely prefer it to a milder temperature, which would put a stop to their business as well as to their pleasures. the great fairs of the empire generally take place in winter; for then the frozen lakes and rivers serve the inhabitants as a safe and rapid means of communication. in this way they traverse immense distances without quitting their sledges, and even without perceiving whether they are on land or water. wrapped up in their furs they encounter with impunity a temperature of ° for several consecutive days, without any other auxiliaries than brandy and tea, which they consume in fearful quantities. during our winter residence in clarofka, we had an opportunity of convincing ourselves that people suffer much less from cold in northern than in southern countries. in constantinople, where we had passed the preceding winter, the cold and the snow appeared to us insupportable in the light wooden houses, open to every wind, and furnished with no other resource against the inclemency of the weather than a manghal, which served at best only to roast the feet and hands, whilst it left the rest of the body to freeze. but in russia even the mujik has constantly a temperature of nearly ° in his cabin in the very height of winter, which he obtains in a very simple and economical manner. a large brickwork stove or oven is formed in the wall, consisting of a fireplace and a long series of quadrangular flues ending in the chimney and giving passage to the smoke. the fire is made either of _kirbitch_[ ] or of reeds. when these materials are completely consumed, the pipe by which the flues communicate with the chimney is hermetically closed, and the hot air passes into the room by two openings made for that purpose. exactly the same apparatus is used in the houses of the wealthy. the stoves are so contrived that one of them serves to heat two or three rooms. the halls, staircases, and servants' rooms, are all kept at the same temperature. but great caution is necessary to avoid the dangers to which this method of warming may give rise. i myself was saved only by a providential chance from falling a victim to them. i had been asleep for some hours one night, when i was suddenly awakened by my son, who was calling to me for drink. i got up instantly, and without waiting to light a candle i was proceeding to pour out a glass of water, but i had scarcely moved a few steps when the glass dropped from my hand and i fell, as if struck with lightning, and in a state of total insensibility. i had afterwards a confused recollection of cries that seemed to me to have come from a great distance; but for two minutes i remained completely inanimate, and only recovered consciousness after my husband had carried me into an icy room and laid me on the floor. my son suffered still more than myself, but it happened most strangely that my husband was not in the smallest degree affected, and this it was that saved us. the cause of this nocturnal alarm was the imprudence of a servant who had closed the stove before all the kirbitch was consumed; this was quite enough to make the atmosphere deadly. all the inmates of the house were more or less indisposed. the hothouse temperature kept up in all the apartments cannot fail to act injuriously on the health. for more than ten months the outer air is never admitted into the house, and foreigners are affected in consequence with an uneasy sense of oppression and a sort of torpor that almost incapacitates them for thinking. as for the russians, who are habituated to the thing from their childhood, they suffer little inconvenience from it; nevertheless many maladies probably owe their origin to this artificial warmth, which is equally enervating for body and mind. to this cause, no doubt, we must attribute the utter absence of blooming freshness from the cheeks of the russian ladies. incapable of enduring the slightest change of temperature, they have not the least idea of the pleasure derived from inhaling the fresh air, and braving the cold by means of brisk exercise. but for dancing, of which they are passionately fond, their lives would pass away in almost absolute immobility, for lolling in a carriage is not what i call putting oneself in motion. there is scarcely any country where women walk less than in russia, and nowhere do they lead more artificial lives. we had a russian family for two months at clarofka, returning from the waters of the caucasus, and waiting until the sledging season was fully set in, to get back to moscow. this family, consisting of a husband and wife and the sister of the latter, was a great godsend for us during part of the winter. madame bougainsky is a very clever young woman, equally well acquainted with our literary works as with our parisian frivolities. but dress and play are for her the two grand concerns of life, and all the rest are but accessories. i do not think she went out of doors three times during her two months' stay in clarofka. the habit of living in the world of fashion and in a perpetual state of parade had taken such inveterate hold on her, that, without thinking of it, she used to dress three or four times a day, just as if she were among the salons of moscow. i learned from her that the russian ladies are as fond of play as of dancing, and that many ruin themselves thereby. on the whole, there is little poetry or romance in the existence of russian women of fashion. the men, though treating them with exquisite politeness and gallantry, in reality think little about them, and find more pleasure in hunting, smoking, gaming, and drinking, than in lavishing on them those attentions to which they have many just claims. the russian ladies have generally little beauty; their bloom, as i have said, is gone at twenty; but if they can boast neither perfect features nor dazzlingly fair complexions, there is, on the other hand, in all their manners remarkable elegance, and an indescribable fascination that sometimes makes them irresistible. with a pale face, a somewhat frail figure, careless attitudes, and a haughty cast of countenance, they succeed in making more impression in a drawing-room than many women of greater beauty. footnotes: [ ] _liman_, a tartar word signifying harbour, is the name given to the gulfs formed by the principal rivers of southern russia before their entrance into the sea. [ ] kirbitch consists of dung kneaded into little bricks, and dried in summer. along with straw and reeds, it forms the only firing used for domestic purposes. at odessa, however, they procure firewood from bessarabia, but it costs as much as ninety francs the cube fathom. appendix to chapter vii. a propensity to sedentary habits is not peculiarly a female failing in russia, as will appear from the following extract: "the russian has as little taste for promenading on foot as any oriental. hence, with the exception of the two capitals, and the north-west provinces, in which german usages prevail, there are no public walks or gardens for recreation. true enjoyment, according to the notions of the genuine muscovite, consists in sitting down to a well-furnished table, either in his own house or a neighbour's, and indulging after the repast in some game which requires the least possible exertion of body. soon after my arrival in kasan, i was glad to employ the early days of summer, which there begins at the end of may, in making pedestrian excursions in the neighbourhood, to the great and general surprise of my new friends, who could not conceive why i thus roamed like an idiot about the country, in which i had no business, as they very well knew. it was conjectured that i was ill, and had adopted this laborious discipline as a mode of cure; but even under this interpretation my proceedings seemed very strange to them, for their own invariable practice when they feel unwell, is to go to bed immediately. in one of my walks i fell in with an acquaintance, who asked me what took me to the village, to which he supposed i was going. on my replying, that i had nothing whatever to do there, and that as yet i had neither seen the village nor any of its inhabitants, he said then of course i was going to look at it. no, i told him, that was not my intention, for i knew very well i should see nothing there different from any of the other villages in the vicinity. 'well, then, daddy (_batiushka_),' said my puzzled and curious friend, 'do tell me, what is it you are afoot for?' 'i am afoot, simply for the sake of being afoot,' was my answer, 'for the pleasure of a little exercise in the open air.' my friend burst into a loud fit of laughter at this explanation of my rambling habits, which had so long been an enigma to himself and every body else. to walk for walking sake! he had never heard any thing like that in all his life, and it was not long before this most novel and extraordinary phrase ran the round of the whole town, so that even to the following year it remained a standing joke against me in every company i entered."--_von littrow._ _suffocating vapours._--accidents like that which befel madame hommaire, are unavoidably frequent under such a system of warming, and with servants so negligent as those in russia; but happily they do not often end fatally. the worst result of them is generally a violent headache, all trace of which disappears the following day. incredible as it may appear, the common people take pleasure in the sort of intoxication produced by the inhalation of diluted carbonic acid, and purposely procure themselves that strange enjoyment on leisure days. "they close the stoves before the usual time, and lie down on them; for in the peasants' houses the stoves are so constructed as to present a platform, on which the family sleep in winter. on entering a cabin on these occasions, you see the inmates lying close together on their bellies, chatting pleasantly with one another. their faces are tumid and of a deep red hue, from the effects of the noxious gas. there is an unusual lustre in their protruding eyeballs, and in short, they have all the outward appearance of intoxication, though the intellectual functions are not affected by the gas. the headache they suffer may, indeed, be a drawback to their pleasure, but the increased warmth thus obtained, is so delightful to them, that they are content to purchase it even at that price. there is no mistaking their evident enjoyment and satisfaction, though one may not be tempted to partake in their joy." another mode of obtaining artificial heat is practised in what the russian peasants call their smoke-rooms. these rooms have but a few very small windows, just large enough to pass the head through, and seldom glazed, except with talc, where that mineral is abundant and cheap. where this is not the case they are stopped up, in winter only, with moss and rags. when the fire is lighted, the chimney is closed, and the smoke escapes through the stove-door into the room. being lighter than the cold air, it ascends at first, and hangs overhead in a thick cloud. but as its mass increases, it gradually descends, until there is no standing upright in the room without danger of suffocation. as the smoke approaches the floor, so too do the inmates, first stooping, then kneeling, sitting, and at last lying prone. if the smoke threatens quite to reach the ground, they open the windows or air-holes, which are not quite level with a man's head, and the black vapour rushes out. the under part of the room is thus left free, the prostrate inmates gradually rise, and set about their occupations in the clear warm space below. the first time i entered one of these dark sooty dens, i was so disgusted with it, that i should not have hesitated in my choice between a prison and so horrible an abode. i was, therefore, not a little surprised when i saw the inmates lying on the floor, gossiping quite at their ease, and bandying about jokes that will hardly bear repeating, but which manifested a degree of mirthfulness in these people i had, until then, thought quite impossible."--_idem._ chapter viii. an earthquake--ludicrous anecdote--sledging--sporting-- dangerous passage of the dniepr--thaw; spring-time--manners and customs of the little russians--easter holidays--the clergy. that same winter at p.m. on the th of january, we had a smart shock of earthquake, but which happily did no mischief in that part of the steppes. we were seated at the whist table, when we were suddenly startled by a loud rolling noise, that seemed rapidly approaching us, and the cards dropped from our hands. the sound was like that of a large heavily-laden waggon rattling over the pavement. scarcely two seconds after our first surprise the whole house received a sudden shock, that set all the furniture in motion, before the idea of an earthquake had occurred to our minds. this first shock was followed by another of longer duration, but less alarming character; it was like the undulation of the waves when they are seeking to recover their equilibrium. the whole house was filled with dismay, except the party in the drawing-room; with us surprise prevailed over fear, and we remained motionless as statues, whilst every one else was running out of doors. the earthquake, of which mention has been made in several journals, gave occasion to a ludicrous story that was related to us some days after. one of the general's peasants, an old fellow whose conscience was no doubt burthened with some weighty sin, imagined when he felt his house dancing like a boat on the waves, that the devil in person was come to bid him prepare to accompany him to the bottomless pit. tearing out his hair by the roots, bawling, roaring, and crossing himself, he begins to confess his sins aloud, and gives himself up to the most violent terror and despair. his wife, who was no less alarmed, accused her husband of all sorts of wickedness; the husband retorted on the wife, and the whole night was passed in unspeakable confusion. the day dawned, but brought no comfort to the unfortunate sinner, whose spirits were all in a ferment, like new wine. fully assured that the devil would soon come and lay his claws on him, he had no thought of going to his daily work. his wife was equally regardless of her household cares; what was the use of her preparing the porridge, when she and her husband were sure of breakfasting with lucifer? so there they sat, waiting the fatal moment, with an anxiety that would have petrified them at last, but for an unexpected incident. all the other peasants, probably having less on their consciences, had been a-field since dawn. the head man of the village missed petrovitch and his wife; he waited for them some hours, and at last bent his steps towards their cabin, calculating as he went how many stripes of the knout he should administer to them for their unpardonable neglect of duty. he steps in, but no one seems to notice his presence. petrovitch sits huddled together in a corner, staring before him with glassy eyes; whilst his wife, on her knees before a picture of st. nicholas, never for a moment interrupts her crossings and lamentations. "hallo! what's all this?" cries the overseer, "have you lost your wits, and don't you know that you ought to have been at work hours ago?" "oh ivan ivanovitch, it's all over; i shall never work again." "not work again, wont you? we shall see. come, start, booby!" and down comes the knout on the back of the peasant, who receives the blows with the most stoical composure. "o beat me if you like; it's all the same. what signify a few blows more or less, when a body is going to be roasted with the fiends?" "what on earth do you mean?" said the puzzled overseer; "what has happened to you to make you talk such nonsense?" "nonsense here, or nonsense there, i have had a warning in the night." ivan now recollected the earthquake, and suspecting he had found a clue to the mystery, burst into a hearty fit of laughter. "oh, you may laugh; but you don't know that i am a great sinner, and that the devil came last night to claim my soul." after amusing himself sufficiently with the man's terrors, the overseer had the utmost difficulty in convincing him that all the other houses had been shaken like his own, and that the devil had nothing to do with the matter. sledge driving is one of the greatest amusements of the russian winter. the horses, stimulated by the cold, sweep with you over the plain with the most mettlesome impetuosity. in the twinkling of an eye, you have left behind you the whole surface of a frozen lake, measuring several versts in length. it is a downright steeplechase: the keenness of the air, the rapid motion, the shouts of the driver urging the willing steeds, the vast plain that seems to enlarge as you advance, all produce an intense excitement, and pleasurably dispel the torpor caused by the indolent life of the steppes. we frequently crossed the dniepr in this manner, to drive about the streets of kherson, where all the fashion of the neighbourhood rendezvous from noon to two o'clock. it is an exercise which has as much charm for the russians as for foreigners; the smallest landowner, or the lowest clerk in a public office, though he earns but a few rubles a year, must have his sledge and his two horses, if he starves for it half the year. at the usual hour you may reckon more than a hundred sledges of every form, most of them covered with rich rugs and furs, chasing each other through the streets, and each containing a gentleman and lady, and a driver furred from head to foot. this sort of amusement is an admirable aid to coquetry. nothing can be more fascinating than those female figures wrapped up in pelisses, and with their faces dimly seen through their blonde veils; appearing for an instant, and then vanishing into the vaporous atmosphere, followed by many a tender glance. i must say a few words as to the field sports of the steppes. shooting parties use a very long low carriage called a _dolgushka_, and accommodating more than fifteen persons seated back to back. the feet rest on a board on each side about a foot from the ground. behind the driver is a large box for holding provisions and all the accoutrements of the sportsmen; and the game is received in another box fixed at the end of the carriage. nothing can be more convenient for country parties. the _dolgushka_ is drawn by four horses yoked abreast; birds are much less afraid of it than of a man on foot, and come near enough to allow the sportsman to shoot without alighting. parties often amounting to many hundreds, both nobles and peasants, assemble for the pursuit of wolves, foxes, and hares. the usual scene of these hunts is a desert island belonging to general potier. they begin by a general beating of the steppes, whereupon the wild animals cross the ice to the little island, thinking to be safe there from the balls of their pursuers; but their retreat is soon invaded. the hunters form a circle round the island, and then begins a slaughter that for some time clears the country of those sheep devourers. two or three battues of this kind take place every year, chiefly for the purpose of destroying the wolves that come in flocks and carry dismay into the sheep-folds. among the peculiarities presented by the plains of the black sea, i must not omit to mention the extensive conflagrations that regularly take place in winter, and remind one of the scenes witnessed by many travellers in the prairies of america. in russia, it is the inhabitants themselves who set fire to the steppes, thinking that by thus clearing away the withered herbage from the surface, they favour the growth of the new grass. but the flames being often driven by the winds in all directions, and over immense surfaces, now and then occasion great disasters; and there have been instances in which sheep-folds and whole flocks have been consumed. the thaw begins on the dniepr, about the end of march. it is preceded by dull cracklings and muffled sounds, giving token that the river is awakening from its long icy sleep, and is about to burst its prison. all communication between the farms and kherson is interrupted for more than six weeks; posts of cossacks stationed along the banks, give notice of the danger of crossing; but as the temperature is continually changing at that season, the final break-up does not take place for a long while. at the beginning of the thaw we persisted in going to kherson, in opposition to all advice. when we came to the banks of the dniepr and manifested our intention of crossing, all the boatmen stared at us in amazement, and not one of them would let us hire his sledge. we were therefore about to give up our project, when we saw two or three gentlemen coming towards us on foot across the dniepr, followed by an empty sledge. they told us that the river was partially clear of ice opposite kherson, and that it would be extremely dangerous to attempt crossing in a sledge. they had left kherson at six in the morning, (it was then ten) and had been all that time engaged in effecting their passage. they united with the boatmen in dissuading us from undertaking such a journey, the danger of which was now the greater, inasmuch as the sun had acquired much power since the morning; but all was of no avail; their sledge which they placed at our disposal decided the business, and we embarked gaily, preceded by a boatman, whom our example had encouraged, and who was to sound the ice before us. a glowing sun streamed over the vast sheet of ice, raising from it a bluish vapour, which the driver and the guide watched with lively anxiety. notwithstanding their looks of uneasiness we pushed on rapidly, and the boatman was oftener on the sledge than in advance of it. by and by, however, the sounds of cracking ice growing more and more frequent, rather cast a gloom over our imaginations, and made us begin to fear that we should meet with more serious obstacles further on. we saw the ice melting in some degree beneath the rays of the sun, and gradually parting from the shores of the islands we were coasting; and what still more augmented our uneasiness, was the elasticity of the ice, which bent very visibly under the motion of our sledge. its gradual rise and fall seemed like the breathing of the river, becoming more and more distinct as the ice diminished in thickness. as our guide still continued to advance, we had no other course than to follow him, and so we came to an arm of the dniepr, which is much dreaded on account of its current, the rapidity of which does not allow the ice to acquire much solidity even in the most intense frosts. we all proceeded to cross it on foot, each maneuvering as best he could on a surface as smooth as a mirror. at last, notwithstanding our zigzags, our tumbles, and the splitting of the ice, we found ourselves safe over the perilous passage, very much delighted at having escaped so well, and at feeling solid ground under our feet. we had then more than two versts to travel over an island, before we came to the branch of the river opposite kherson. with the utmost confidence, then, we seated ourselves once more in the sledge, and bounded away at full speed over a soft surface of snow melting rapidly in the sun. but it is always when the mind is most at ease, that accidents seem to take a malicious pleasure in surprising us. a wide crevice, which the driver had not time to avoid, suddenly yawned athwart our course; the sledge was immediately upset, and we were all pitched out. my husband, who was seated on the top of the baggage, was quite stunned by the blow; the driver and the guide, who were thrown a considerable distance from the sledge, remained motionless likewise; and as for me, i found myself rolled up in my pelisse in the middle of a bush. when i cast a look on my companions in misfortune, they were beginning to stir and to feel themselves all over. they seemed in no hurry to get up, and they cut such piteous figures, that i could not help laughing most heartily. notwithstanding our bruises we were soon on our legs, with the certainty that none of our bones were broken. the driver limped back to his seat, in great amazement at not receiving a severe castigation for his awkwardness. had this mishap occurred to russians, the poor fellow would not have escaped with less than a sound drubbing. we were more magnanimous, and imputed wholly to fortune an accident which, indeed, could not easily have been avoided. our journey continued without much to alarm us, until we were just about to commit ourselves to the wide arm of the dniepr, that still lay between us and the town. its surface presented an appearance that was really frightful. enormous banks of ice were beginning to move, and had already left a great part of the river exposed. besides this, the ice that still remained fixed, was so intersected with clefts, that we could not advance without serious danger. our position was becoming more and more critical, and we were thinking of returning to the island we had just left, and waiting until a boat could take us across to kherson; but as there would probably have been as much risk in returning as in proceeding, we continued our route but with the utmost caution. the first glow of exulting boldness was over, and we sorely regretted our temerity. the floor that separated us from the waters seemed so treacherous, that we every moment despaired of escape. this state of perplexity lasted more than an hour; but at last we reached the vessels that were ice-locked at some distance from the harbour. we were now in safety, and we finished our perilous expedition in a boat. two days afterwards a southerly wind had almost completely swept away the immense sheet of ice that for so many months had imprisoned the waters of the dniepr. the thaw took place so rapidly, that the river was free before any one could have noted the progress of its deliverance. in eight days there was not a vestige of ice, and we returned to clarofka, without experiencing any of the emotions we had felt on our first rash and picturesque expedition. but this mild weather, very unusual in the month of march, soon gave place to sharp frosts, which renewed the winter mantle of the dniepr, and did not entirely cease until the beginning of april. at this season the steppes begin to be clothed with a magnificent vegetation, and in a few days they have the appearance of a boundless meadow, full of thyme, hyacinths, tulips, pinks, and an infinity of other wild flowers of great sweetness and beauty. thousands of larks nestle in the grass, and carol everywhere over the traveller's head. the sea, too, partakes in the common gladness of the general season. its shells are more beautiful and more numerous; its hues are more varied, and its murmurs gentler. plants and animals seem all in haste to live and reproduce their kind, as if they foresaw the brief duration of these pleasant days. elsewhere, summer is often but a continuation of spring; fresh blossoms come forth, and nature retains her vital power for a long period; but here a fortnight or three weeks are enough to change the vernal freshness of the landscape into a sun-burnt waste. in all these countries there are really but two seasons; you pass from intense cold to a senegal heat; without the body having time to accustom itself to this sudden change of temperature. the sea-breezes alone make it possible to endure the heat which in july and august almost always amounts to ° or °. the thing to which the stranger finds it most difficult to accustom his eyes in russia, is the horrible sheep-skins in which men, women, and children are muffled at all times of the year. these half-tanned skins, which are worn with the wool inwards, give them a savage appearance, which is increased in the men by the long beard and moustaches they invariably wear. yet there are handsome faces to be seen among the russian peasants, and in this respect nature has been much more liberal to the men than to the women, who are generally very ugly. the dress of the latter consists in a shift with wide sleeves, fitting tight round the throat, and trimmed with coloured cotton, and a petticoat fastened below the bosom. instead of a petticoat, girls commonly wear a piece of woollen stuff, which laps across in front, without forming a single plait, and is fastened by a long, narrow scarf, embroidered at the ends. their legs are quite bare, and any rather sudden movement may open their singular garment more than is consistent with decorum. on holidays they add to their ordinary attire a large muslin cap, and an apron of the same material, adorned with a wide flounce. their hair is tied up with ribands, into two tresses, that fall on their shoulders, or are twisted into a crown on the top of the head. when they marry, they cease to wear their hair uncovered; a handkerchief of a glaring colour is then their usual head-dress. we are now speaking only of the women of little russia; but those of great russia retain the national costume called _serafine_, which is very picturesque, and is still worn at court on special occasions. the women of little russia, accustomed to field labour from their childhood, and usually marrying at the age of fifteen or sixteen, are old before they have reached their thirtieth year; indeed, one can hardly say when they cease to be young, since they never exhibit the bloom of youth. whether a russian woman's age be fifteen, twenty, or thirty, it is all one in the end. immediately after childhood, her limbs are as masculine, her features as hard, her skin as tanned, and her voice as rough as at a more advanced age. so much has been written about the relaxed morals and the drunkenness of the russian peasants, that we need not dwell on the subject. we shall only say that their deplorable passion for strong liquors, is continually on the increase, and that most of the young women are as much addicted to them as the old. it frequently happens that a peasant and his wife go on sunday to a _kabak_, drench themselves with brandy, and on their way back fall dead drunk into some gully, where they pass the whole night without being aware of their change of domicile. a fondness for dancing is another distinguishing characteristic of this people. you often see a party of both sexes assemble after work, and continue dancing all the evening. the ruthenians are remarkable for their gaiety and extreme indifference to worldly cares. leaving to their masters the whole trouble of providing for their lodging and maintenance, they never concern themselves about the future. their tasks once ended, they think only of repose, and seldom entertain any idea of working for themselves. when you pass through their villages, you never see the peasants busy in repairing their hedges, cultivating their gardens, mending their implements, or doing any thing else that bespeaks any regard for domestic comforts. no--the russian works only because he is forced to do so; when he returns from his labour, he stretches himself out to sleep on his stove, or goes and gets drunk at the next _kabak_. a curious custom i have noticed in southern russia, and which is common to all classes, is that of chewing the seeds of the melon or the sunflower, from morning till night. in order to indulge this taste, every one dries in the sun the seeds of all the melons he eats during the summer, and puts by his stock for the winter. i have seen many wives of _pometchiks_ (landowners) pass their whole day in indulging this queer appetite. in russia, as in all imperfectly civilised countries, religious ceremonies still retain all their ancient influence. they afford the peasant a season of pleasure and emancipation, that makes him for a moment forget his thraldom, to revel in intoxication. full of superstition, and indolent to an extreme degree, he longs impatiently for the interval of relaxation that allows him to indulge his favourite propensities. for him the whole sum and substance of every religious festival consists in cessation from toil, and in outward practices of devotion that bear a strong impress of gross idolatry. the russian thinks he perfectly understands and fulfils his religion, if he makes innumerable signs of the cross and genuflections before the smoky picture that adorns his isbas, and scrupulously observes those two commandments of the church, to fast and make lenten fare. his conscience is then quite at ease, even though it should be burdened with the most atrocious crimes. theft, drunkenness, and even murder, excite in him much less horror than the mere idea of breaking fast or eating animal food on friday. nothing can exceed the depravity of the russian clergy; and their ignorance is on a par with their vicious propensities. most of the monks and priests pass their lives in disgraceful intoxication, that renders them incapable of decently discharging their religious duties. the priestly office is regarded in russia, not as a sacred calling, but as a means of escaping from slavery and attaining nobility. the monks, deacons, and priests, that swarm in the churches and monasteries, are almost all sons of peasants who have entered the church, that they may no longer be liable to the knout, and above all to the misfortune of being made soldiers. but though thereby acquiring the right to plunder the serfs, and catechise them after their own fashion, they cannot efface the stain of their birth, and they continue to be regarded by the nobility with that sovereign disdain which the latter profess for all who are not sprung from their own caste. the great and the petty nobles are perfectly agreed in this respect, and it is not uncommon to see a pometshik raise his hand to strike a pope, whilst the latter humbly bows his head to receive the chastisement. this resignation, which would be exemplary if it were to be ascribed to evangelical humility, is here but the result of the base and crouching character of the slave, of which the russian priest cannot divest himself, even in the midst of the highest functions of his spiritual life. the appearance of the popes provokes equal disgust and astonishment. to see those men, whose neglected beards, besotted faces, and filthy dress, indicate a total want of all decent self-respect, it is impossible to persuade oneself that such persons can be apostles of the divine word. as usual in the greek church, they are all married and have large families. you may look in vain in their dwellings for any indication of their sacred character. a few coarsely-coloured pictures of saints, and a few books flung into a corner of the room, in which the whole family are huddled together, are the only marks of the profession exercised by the master of the house. as they receive nothing from the state, it is the unfortunate serfs who must support their establishments, and even supply them with the means of indulging their gluttony and drunkenness. it is particularly on the eve of a great church festival, that the russian priest is sure of an abundant harvest of poultry, eggs, and meal. easter is the most remarkable of these festivals, and lasts a whole week. during the preceding seven weeks of lent, the russian must not eat either eggs, meat, fish, oil, butter, or cheese. his diet consists only of salted cucumbers, boiled vegetables, and different kinds of porridge. the fortitude with which he endures so long a penance, proves the mighty influence which religious ideas possess over such rude minds. during the last few days that precede the festival, he is not allowed to take any food before sunset, and then it may be fairly admitted that brandy is a real blessing for him. it is impossible to imagine all the discussions that take place between the popes and the peasants on these occasions. as the russian must then fulfil his religious duties, whether he will or not, he is at the mercy of the priest, who of course makes him pay as dearly as he can for absolution, and keeps a regular tariff, in which offences and punishments are set down with minute precision. thus for a theft, so many dozens of eggs; for breach of a fast, so many chickens, &c. if the serf is refractory, the punishment is doubled, and nothing can save him from it. the thought of complaining to his lord of the pope's extortionate cupidity never enters his head; for assuredly, if he were to adopt such a course, he would think himself damned to all eternity. as long as the holidays last, the lords keep open table, and every one is free to enter and take part in the banquet. such was the practice of the _knias_ (princes) and boyards of old, who lived as sovereigns in their feudal mansions, and extended their hospitality to all strangers, without distinction of country or lineage. many travellers allege that this patriarchal custom still prevails in some families of great russia. but here, except on gala days, most of the pometshiks live in such a shabby style, as gives but a poor idea of their means or of their dispositions. to return to our easter holidays: the last week of lent is employed in making an immense quantity of cakes, buns, and easter bread, and in staining eggs with all sorts of colours. a painter was brought expressly from kherson to our entertainer's mansion for this purpose, and he painted more than eggs, most of them adorned with cherubims, fat-cheeked angels, virgins, and all the saints in paradise. the whole farm was turned topsy-turvy, the work was interrupted, and the steward's authority suspended. every one was eager to assist in the preparations for merry making; some put up the swings, others arranged the ball-room; some were intent on their devotions, others half-smothered themselves in the vapour baths, which are one of the most favourite indulgences of the russian people: all in short were busy in one way or other. a man with a barrel organ had been engaged for a long while beforehand, and when he arrived every face beamed with joy. the russians are passionately fond of music. often in the long summer evenings, after their tasks are ended, they sit in a circle and sing with a precision and harmony that evince a great natural aptitude for music. their tunes are very simple and full of melancholy; and as their plaintive strains are heard rising at evening from some lonely spot in the midst of the desert plain, they often produce emotions, such as more scientific compositions do not always awaken. at last easter day was come. in the morning we were greatly surprised to find our sitting-room filled with men who were waiting for us, and were meanwhile refreshing themselves with copious potations of brandy. the evening before we had been sent two bottles of that liquor, and a large basket of cakes and painted eggs, but without any intimation of the use they were to be put to; but we at once understood the meaning of this measure, when we saw all these peasants in their sunday trim, and a domestic serving out drink to them, by way i suppose of beguiling the time until we made our appearance. the moment my husband entered the room, all those red-bearded fellows surrounded him, and each with great gravity presented him with a painted egg, accompanying the gift with three stout kisses. in compliance with the custom of the country my husband had to give each of them an egg in return, and a glass of brandy, after first putting it to his own lips. but the ceremony did not end there: _kooda barinya? kooda barinya?_ (where is madame), _nadlegit_ (it must be so), and so i was forced to come among them and receive my share of the eggs and embraces. during all easter week the peasant has a right to embrace whomsoever he pleases, not even excepting the emperor and the empress. this is a relic of the old patriarchal manners which prevailed so long unaltered all over northern europe. in russia, particularly, where extremes meet, the peasant to this day addresses the czar with _thou_ and _thee_, and calls him father in speaking to him. when we had got rid of these queer visitors we repaired to the parlour, where the morning repast was served up with a profusion worthy of the times of pantagruel. in the centre of the table stood a sucking pig flanked with small hams, german sausages, chitterlings, black puddings, and large dishes of game. a magnificent pie containing at least a dozen hares, towered like a fortress at one end of the table, and seemed quite capable of sustaining the most vehement onslaught of the assailants. the sondag and the sterlet, those choice fish of southern russia, garnished with aromatic herbs, betokened the vicinity of the sea. imagine, in addition to all these things, all sorts of cordial waters, glass vases filled with preserves, and a multitude of sponge cake castles, with their platforms frosted and heaped with bonbons, and the reader will have an idea of the profuse good cheer displayed by the russian lords on such occasions. general potier, surrounded by all his household retinue, and by some other guests, impatiently awaited the arrival of the pope, whose benediction was an indispensable preliminary to the banquet. he arrived at ten o'clock precisely, accompanied by a monk, and began to chant a hallelujah, walking two or three times round the table; then blessing each dish separately, he concluded by bravely attacking the sucking pig, to the best part of which he helped himself. this was the signal to begin; every one laid hold on what he liked without ceremony; the pie, the hams, and the fish, all vanished. for more than a quarter of an hour nothing was to be heard but a continual noise of knives and forks, jaws munching, and glasses hobnobbing. the pope set a bright example, and his rubicund face fully declared the pleasure he took in fulfilling such functions of his office. the russians in general are remarkable for gluttony, such as perhaps is without a parallel elsewhere. the rudeness of their climate and their strong digestive powers would account for this. they make five meals daily, and those so copious and substantial that one of them would alone be amply sufficient for an inhabitant of the south. during the repast a choir of girls stood before the windows and sang several national airs in a very pleasing style; after which they received the usual gratuity of nuts with tokens of the liveliest glee. the russians are strict observers of all ancestral customs, and easter would be no easter for them if it came without eggs or nuts. on leaving the breakfast table we proceeded to the place where the sports were held; but there i saw nothing of that hearty merriment that elsewhere accompanies a popular holiday. the women, in their best attire, clung to the swings, i will not say gracefully, but very bodily, and in a manner to shame the men, who found less pleasure in looking at them than in gorging themselves with brandy in their smoky _kabaks_. others danced to the sound of the organ with cavaliers, whose zigzag movements told of plenteous libations. some old women nearly dead drunk went from one group to another singing obscene songs, and falling here and there in the middle of the road, without any one thinking of picking them up. we noticed on this occasion an essential characteristic of the russian people. in this scene of universal drunkenness there was no quarrelling; not a blow was struck. nothing can rouse the russians from their apathy; nothing can quicken the dull current of their blood; they are slaves even in drink. next day we went to dine with one of the general's neighbours, who gave us a most sumptuous reception. before we sat down to table, we were shown into a small room with a side-board loaded with cold meat, caviar, salted cucumbers, and liqueurs, all intended to whet our appetites. this collation, which the russians call _sagouska_, always precedes their meals; they are not content with their natural appetite, but have recourse to stimulants that they may the better perform their parts at table. all the time of dinner we were entertained by a choir of forty young men who sang some fine harmonised pieces, and some cossack airs that pleased us much. our entertainer was one of the richest landowners in new russia, and his manner of living partakes of many of the old national usages. his musicians are slaves taught by an italian long attached to the establishment in the capacity of chapel master. such are the easter festivities. as the reader will perceive, they consist on the whole in eating and drinking inordinately. the whole week is spent in this way, and during all that time the authority of the master is almost in abeyance; the coachman deserts the stables, the cook the kitchen, the housekeeper her store-room; all are drunk, all are merry-making, all are intent on enjoying a season of liberty so long anticipated with impatience. the rejoicings in the town are of the same character. the _katchellni_, a sort of fair lasting three days, brings together all classes of society. the nobles and the government servants ride about in carriages, but the populace amuse themselves just as they do in the country, only they have the pleasure of getting drunk in better company. chapter ix. excursion on the banks of the dniepr--doutchina--election of the marshals and judges of the nobility at kherson--horse-racing --strange story in the "journal des dÉbats"--a country house and its visiters--traits of russian manners--the wife of two husbands--servants--murder of a courier--appendix. we left clarofka in may, to explore the banks of the dniepr, and the shores of the sea of azov. the object we had in view was purely scientific, but the journey became doubly interesting by affording us a closer insight into the habits of russian society, and the manner in which noble families live on their estates. i had intended to visit taganrok, but on this occasion i proceeded no further than doutchina, the property of a baroness de bervick, who most hospitably insisted on my remaining with her whilst my husband was continuing his geological researches in the country of the cossacks. doutchina is situated on the post-road from kherson to iekaterinoslav, in a broad ravine formed by a brook that falls into the dniepr a little way from the village. from the high ground over which the road passes, the eye suddenly looks down on a beautiful landscape--a most welcome surprise for the traveller who has just passed over some hundred versts of uncultivated plains. in russia, travelling is not, as elsewhere, synonymous with seeing new sights. in vain your _troïka_ bears you along with dizzy speed; in vain you pass hours, days, and nights in posting; still you have before your eyes the same steppe that seems to lengthen out before you as you advance, the same horizon, the same cold stern lines, the same snow or sunshine; and nothing either in the temperature or the aspect of the ground indicates that you have accomplished any change of place. it is only in the vicinity of the great rivers that the country assumes a different aspect, and the wearied eye at last enjoys the pleasure of encountering more limited horizons, a more verdant vegetation, and a landscape more varied in its outlines. among these rivers, the dniepr claims one of the foremost places, from the length of its course, the volume of its waters, and the deep bed it has excavated for itself athwart the plains of southern russia. but nowhere does it present more charming views than from the height i have just mentioned and its vicinity. after having spread out to the breadth of nearly a league, it parts into a multitude of channels, that wind through forests of oaks, alders, poplars, and aspens, whose vigorous growth bespeaks the richness of a virgin soil. the groups of islands capriciously breaking the surface of the waters, have a melancholy beauty and a primitive character scarcely to be seen except in those vast wildernesses where man has left no traces of his presence. nothing in our country at all resembles this kind of landscape. with us, the creature has everywhere refashioned the work of the creator; the mark of his hand appears even on the most inaccessible mountains; whereas, in russia, where the nobles are the sole proprietors, nature still remains, in many places, just as god created it. thus these plavniks[ ] of the dniepr, seldom touched by the woodman's axe, have all the wild majesty of the forests of the new world. for some time after my arrival at doutchina, i found an endless source of delight in contemplating those majestic scenes, lighted by a pale sky, and veiled in light mists, that gave them a tinge of sadness, sometimes more pleasing than the glare of noon. doutchina, situated, as i have said, on a ledge of a ravine that ends in the plavniks, is altogether unlike the other villages of russia. its pretty cottages, separated by gardens and groups of fruit-trees, its picturesque site and magnificent environs, strikingly remind one of the danube, near vienna. the whole country, as far as one can see from the highest point of the road, belongs to the baroness of bervick, and forms one of the most valuable estates in the neighbourhood. but her residence is strangely unsuited to her fortune, being a mere cabin, open to every wind, and fit, at most, for a sporting lodge. as we looked on this shabby abode, we were amazed that a wealthy lady, still young and handsome, should be content to inhabit it, and to endure a multitude of privations, which we should have thought intolerable to a person of her station. at the time we became this lady's guest, she had left france about eighteen months, to reside on this property, bequeathed to her by her late husband. some days after my husband's departure we set out for kherson, where the elections of the marshals and judges of the nobility were soon to take place. all the great families of the government of kherson were already assembled in the town, and gave it an appearance of animation to which it had long been a stranger. these elections, which take place only every three years, are occasions for balls and parties, to which the pometchiks and their wives look forward with eager anticipation. for more than a fortnight the town is thronged with officers of all ranks, and elegant equipages with four horses, that give the streets and promenades an unusually gay appearance. the russians spare no expense on these occasions of display. many a petty proprietor's wife, who lives all the year on _kash_[ ] and dried fish, contrives at this period to out-do the ladies of the town in costly finery. the amusements began with a horse-race, which made some noise in the world in consequence of an article in the _journal des débats_. those who have any curiosity to know how one may mystify a newspaper, and amuse oneself at the expense of a credulous public, have but to read a certain number of the year , which positively alleges, that forty ladies, headed by the young and beautiful narishkin, appeared on the course as jockeys, rode their own horses, &c., and a thousand other things still more absurd and incredible. all i can say of this race, at which i was present, is, that it was like every other affair of the kind, and was not distinguished by any remarkable incident or romantic adventure. eight horses started, one of which belonged to the countess voronzof and another to general narishkin, and the riders were not lovely ladies, but rather clumsy grooms. the first prize, a large silver cup worth rubles, was won by the countess voronzof's atalanta: the second was carried off by the general's horse. such is the way in which these things always end, and the consequence may very likely be, that the races will cease altogether. the landowners know very well that their horses stand no chance against those belonging to great people, and as they are sure of being beaten they will at last grow tired of the mock contest. the countess voronzof ought to consider that these races are not merely an amusement, but that they were instituted for the purpose of encouraging the improvement of the breed of horses. after the race there was a grand dinner at the general commandant's, which was attended by all the rank and fashion then assembled in kherson. it was at this dinner i first remarked the custom observed by the russians of placing the gentlemen on one side of the table and the ladies on the other, a custom both unsightly and injurious to conversation. it has almost fallen into disuse in odessa, like all the other national practices; but in the provincial towns it would still be thought a deadly insult to a lady to help her after a gentleman, and no doubt it is in order to avoid such a breach of politeness that the ladies are all ranged together in one row. the nobility of the district gave a grand ball that evening in one of the club-rooms, and there i noticed all the contrasts that form the ground-work of russian manners. the mixture of refinement and barbarism, of gallantry and grossness, which this people exhibits on all occasions, shows how young it still is in civilisation. here were officers in splendid uniforms and ladies blazing with diamonds, dancing and playing cards in a very ugly room with old patched and plastered walls, dimly lighted by a few shabby lamps, and they were as intent on their pleasures as if they were in a court drawing-room, and never seemed to think that there was any thing at all offensive to the sight in the accommodations around them. the refreshments, consisting of dried fruits and _eau sucrée_, were in as much demand as the best ices and sherbets could have been. the same inconsistency was displayed in the behaviour of the gentlemen towards the ladies. though ready, like the poles, to drink every man of them to his fancy's queen out of the heel of her shoe, they did not think it unbecoming to take their places alone in the quadrilles, neither troubling themselves to go in search of their partners nor escorting them back to their seats after the dance. setting aside, however, this total want of tact, they perfectly imitate all the outward shows and forms of politeness. a final ball, given by the governor at the conclusion of the election, was much more brilliant than those of the noblesse, and satisfied my critical eye in every respect. every thing testified the taste and opulence of our entertainer. a splendid supper was served up at midnight, and a chorus of young lads sang some national airs, full of that grave and melancholy sweetness that constitutes the charm of russian music. when the champagne was sent round the governor rose and made a speech in russian, which was responded to by a general hurrah: the healths of the emperor, the empress, and the rest of the imperial family, were then drunk with shouts of joy; the married ladies were next toasted, then the unmarried, who were cheered with frantic acclamations. these duties being accomplished, the company returned to the ball-room, where dancing was kept up until morning. this entertainment was perfect in its kind; but, in accordance with the national habits, it was destined to end in an orgy. we learned the next day that the dawn had found the gentlemen eating, drinking, and fighting lustily. it was reckoned that bottles of champagne were emptied on this occasion, and as the price of each bottle is eighteen francs, the reader may hence form some idea of russian profusion. two days afterwards we left kherson for the country seat of the marshal of the nobles, where a large party was already assembled. the manner in which hospitality is exercised in russia is very convenient, and entails no great outlay in the matter of upholstery. those who receive visiters give themselves very little concern as to whether their guests are well or ill lodged, provided they can offer them a good table; it never occurs to them that a good bed, and a room provided with some articles of furniture, are to some persons quite as acceptable as a good dinner. whatever has no reference to the comfort of the stomach, lies beyond the range of russian politeness, and the stranger must make up his account accordingly. as we were the last comers, we fared very queerly in point of lodging, being thrust four or five of us into one room, with no other furniture than two miserable bedsteads; and there we were left to shift for ourselves as we could. the house is very handsome in appearance; but for all its portico, its terrace, and its grand halls, it only contains two or three rooms for reception, and a few garrets, graced with the name of bed-rooms. ostentation is inherent in the russian character, but it abounds especially among the petty nobles, who lavish away their whole income in outward show. they must have equipages with four horses, billiard-rooms, grand drawing-rooms, pianos, &c. and if they can procure all these superfluities, they are quite content to live on mujik's fare, and to sleep in beds without any thing in the shape of sheets. articles of furniture, the most indispensable, are totally unknown in the dwellings of most of the second-rate nobles. notwithstanding the vaunted progress of russian civilisation, it is almost impossible to find a basin and ewer in a bed-room. bedsteads are almost as great rarities, and almost invariably you have nothing but a divan on which you may pass the night. you may deem yourself singularly fortunate if the mistress of the mansion thinks of sending you a blanket and a pillow; but this is so unusual a piece of good luck that you must never reckon upon it. in their own persons the russians set an example of truly spartan habits, as i had many opportunities of perceiving during my stay in the marshal's house. no one, the marshal himself not excepted, had a private chamber; his eldest daughter, though a very elegant and charming young lady, lay on the floor, wrapped up in a cloak like an old veteran. his wife, with three or four young children, passed the night in a closet that served as boudoir by day, and he himself made his bed on one of the divans of the grand saloon. as for the visiters, some slept on the billiard-table; others, like ourselves, scrambled for a few paltry stump bedsteads, whilst the most philosophical wore away the night in drinking and gambling. i say nothing as to the manner in which the domestic servants are lodged; a good guess as to this matter may be easily made from what i have just said of their masters. besides, it is a settled point in russia never to take any heed for servants; they eat, drink, and sleep, how and where they can, and their masters never think of asking a word about the matter. the family whose guests we were was very large, and furnished us with themes for many a remark on the national usages, and the notions respecting education that are in vogue in the empire. a swiss governess is an indispensable piece of furniture in every house in which there are many children. she must teach them to read, write, and speak french, and play a few mazurkas on the piano. no more is required of her; for solid instruction is a thing almost unknown among the petty nobles. a girl of fifteen has completed her education if she can do the honours of the drawing-room, and warble a few french romances. yet i have met with several exceptions to this rule, foremost among which i must note our host's pretty daughter loubinka, who, thanks to a sound understanding and quick apprehension, has acquired such a stock of information as very few russian ladies possess. it is only among those families that constantly reside on their estates that we still find in full vigour all those prejudices, superstitions, and usages of old russia, that are handed down as heir-looms from generation to generation, and keep strong hold on all the rustic nobility. no people are more superstitious than the russians; the sight of two crossed forks, or of a salt-cellar upset, will make them turn pale and tremble with terror. there are unlucky days on which nothing could induce them to set out on a journey or begin any business. monday especially is marked with a red cross in their calendar, and woe to the man who would dare to brave its malign influence. among the russian customs most sedulously preserved is that of mutual salutations after meals. nothing can be more amusing than to see all the persons round the table bowing right and left with a gravity that proves the importance they attach to a formality so singular in our eyes. the children set the example by respectfully kissing the hands of their parents. in all social meetings etiquette peremptorily requires that the young ladies, instead of sitting in the drawing-room, shall remain by themselves in an adjoining apartment, and not allow any young man to approach them. if there is dancing the gravest matron in the company goes and brings them almost by force into the ball-room. once there they may indulge their youthful vivacity without restraint; but on no pretext are they to withdraw from beneath the eyes of their mothers or chaperons. it would be ruinous to a young lady's reputation to be caught in a _tête-á-tête_ with a young man within two steps of the ball-room. but all this prudery extends no further than outward forms, and it would be a grand mistake to suppose that there is more morality in russia than elsewhere. genuine virtue, such as is based on sound principles and an enlightened education is not very common there. young girls are jealously guarded, because the practice is in accordance with the general habits and feelings of the country, and little reliance is placed in their own sense of propriety. but once married, they acquire the right of conducting themselves as they please, and the husband would find it a hard matter to control their actions. though divorces are almost impossible to obtain, it does not follow that all wives remain with their husbands; on the contrary, nothing is more common than amicable arrangements between married people to wink at each other's peccadilloes; such conventions excite no scandal, and do not exclude the wife from society. one of these divorces i will mention, which is perhaps without a parallel in the annals of the civilised world. a very pretty and sprightly young polish lady was married to a man of great wealth, but much older than herself, and a thorough muscovite in coarseness of character and habits. after two or three years spent in wrangling and plaguing each other, the ill-assorted pair resolved to travel, in the hopes of escaping the intolerable sort of life they led at home. a residence in italy, the chosen land of intrigues and illicit amours, soon settled the case. the young wife eloped with an italian nobleman, whose passion ere long grew so intense that nothing would satisfy him short of a legal sanction of their union. divorces, as every one knows, are easily obtained in the pope's dominions. madame de k. had therefore no difficulty in causing her marriage to be annulled, especially with the help of her lord and master, who, for the first time since they had come together, agreed with her, heart and soul. every thing was promptly arranged, and _monsieur_ carried his complaisance so far as to be present as an official witness at _madame's_ wedding, doubtless for the purpose of thoroughly making sure of its validity. three or four children were the fruit of this new union; but the lady's happiness was of short duration. her domestic peace was destroyed by the intrigues of her second husband's family; perhaps, too, the italian's love had cooled; be this as it may, after some months of miserable struggles and humiliations, sentence of separation was finally pronounced against her, and she found herself suddenly without fortune or protector, burdened with a young family, and weighed down with fearful anticipations of the future. her first step was to leave a country where such cruel calamities had befallen her, and to return to podolia, the land of her birth. hitherto her story is like hundreds of others, and i should not have thought of narrating it had it ended there; but what almost surpasses belief, and gives it a stamp of originality altogether out of the common line, is the conduct of her first husband when he heard of her return. that brutal, inconstant man, who had trampled on all social decencies in attending at the marriage of his wife with another, did all in his power to induce her to return to his house. by dint of unwearied efforts and entreaties he succeeded in overcoming her scruples, and bore her home in triumph along with her children by the italian, on whom he settled part of his fortune. from that time forth the most perfect harmony subsists between the pair, and seems likely long to continue. i saw a letter written by the lady two or three months after her return beneath the conjugal roof; it breathed the liveliest gratitude and the fondest affection for him whom she called _her beloved husband_. the russians pique themselves greatly on having a large retinue of servants; the smallest proprietor never keeps fewer than five or six; yet this does not prevent their houses from being, without exception, disgustingly dirty. except the state-rooms, which the servants make a show of cleaning, all the rest of the house is left in a state of filth beyond description. the condition of these domestic servants is much less pitiable than one would suppose; they are so numerous that they have hardly any thing to do, and spend half the day in sleeping. the canings they receive from time to time do not at all ruffle their good humour. it is true they fare horribly as to victuals, and have no other bed than the bare ground; but their robust constitutions enable them easily to endure the greatest privations, and if they have salted cucumbers, arbutus berries, and _kash_, they scarcely envy their masters their more nutritious viands. after some ten days spent very agreeably in the house of the marshal of the nobles, we at last set out on our return for doutchina, where my husband was soon to meet us again. on arriving at the third post-station, we were surprised to find the house filled with cossacks and police-officers. neither postmaster, horses, nor coachmen, were to be seen, and it was plain some extraordinary event had taken place. we were presently informed that a murder had been committed two days before, at a very short distance from the station, on the person of a courier, who had a sum of , rubles in his charge. the following are the details communicated to us on the subject. a courier arrived at the post-station in the evening, having with him a small valise containing a considerable amount of property. he drank a few glasses of brandy with the postmaster before he resumed his journey, and told him he was not going further than kherson, and would return that way next day. that same night some peasants found a deserted carriage on the highway, near kherson, and were soon satisfied on examining it, that a crime had been committed in it. several pieces of silver coin were scattered in the straw, as if some one had forgotten them there in his haste, and copious marks of blood were discernible on the ground and in the carriage. these facts were communicated to the police, inquiries were instituted, and the courier's body, with a deep gash in the head, was found in a ditch two or three versts from the station. the driver had disappeared, and the postmaster, an unfortunate jew, who was perhaps innocent of all participation in the crime, was immediately taken to prison. such was the state of the case when we arrived at the station and found it all in confusion, and filled with cossacks. this tragic event threw the whole country into agitation, but it was not until six weeks afterwards that the police at last succeeded in arresting the perpetrator of the deed, in consequence of quite new information, which gave a still stranger complexion to the whole story. by the murderer's own statement, it appeared that he belonged to a family of shopkeepers, and that he had given up his business only to execute a long cherished project. some months before the murder he had gone into the crimea, where he had taken pains to conceal his identity and baffle any attempt to track his steps, by letting his beard grow, adopting the habits and appearance of a mujik, and frequently changing his place of abode. when he thought his measures complete in this respect, he went and hired himself as postillion to the jew, who kept the post-station before mentioned. he had been waiting more than a month for a favourable opportunity, when the unfortunate courier, who was his victim, arrived. he confessed he had hesitated for some moments before committing the murder, not from horror of the deed itself, but because he recognised in the courier an old companion of his boyhood. twice, perceiving that the man was asleep, he had left his seat and got up behind the carriage with the intention of knocking him on the head; but twice his courage failed him; the third time, however, he drew the courier's own sabre and cleft his skull with it at a blow. having secured the valise, he threw the corpse into a ditch, and continued his journey to within a short distance of kherson, where he left the kibitka, changed his dress, cut off his beard, and then entered the city on foot. his family received him without the least suspicion, never doubting but that he came straight from the crimea, and for more than six weeks he lived quite at his ease, making like every body else numberless conjectures respecting the event which was the constant theme of conversation. meanwhile, several persons having been struck by the resemblance of his features to those of the postillion who had disappeared, they put the police on the alert, and he was arrested just as he was setting out for bessarabia. he was condemned to a hundred strokes of the knout, and the postmaster was sent to siberia. the children of the latter were enrolled as soldiers, and all he was worth became the booty of the police. with such penal laws, russia has little to fear from malefactors. notwithstanding its vast extent and its thinly scattered population, the traveller is safer there than in any other country. but this state of things is to be ascribed rather to the political situation of the people, than to the strict administration of the police, and it is easy to conceive that in a country, in which there are none but slaves bound to the soil, highway robberies, generally speaking, are morally impossible, because they can scarcely ever yield any gain to their authors. there existed, nevertheless, in bessarabia, from to , a very formidable gang of robbers, of which the police found it extremely difficult to rid the country. the captain, of whom a thousand extraordinary tales are told, was a revolted slave, unconsciously playing the part of fra diavolo, in a corner of russia. he waged war not against individuals, but against society. it is alleged, that he never killed any one, and that many a peasant found with him an asylum and protection. he was a daring fellow, beloved by his gang, and a merciless plunderer of landlords, and above all of jews. it was not until the close of that he was taken, through the treachery of a girl he was attached to, who betrayed him to the officers of justice. he died under the knout; the death of their leader dispersed his gang, and they fell one by one into the hands of the police. some days after my husband's return, we took our leave of the baroness to return to clarofka. our main journey through the kalmuck steppes and to the caucasus, being fixed for the following spring, part of the winter was spent in making preparations for our departure. count voronzof most obligingly furnished us with letters for the governors and authorities of the countries we were to pass through. footnotes: [ ] the name applied collectively to the islands and channels formed by all the great rivers of southern russia. [ ] a favourite russian dish, a sort of porridge of buckwheat or indian corn. appendix to chapter ix. _petty larceny._--"highway robbery and burglary, with violence, are things wholly unknown in the greater part of russia. the peasants laugh when they see foreigners travelling about with swords, pistols, and a whole arsenal of weapons. the russian trader journeys from one end of the empire to the other, often with all he is worth in the world, and does not think it necessary even to carry a knife in his pocket; yet one never hears of their being robbed by force on the highways, at least in the parts of the country with which i was more intimately acquainted. cases of the kind do indeed occur in the southern provinces, adjoining the turkish dominions, and in siberia, where so many malefactors are settled, and where there is often extreme distress. some may be disposed to ascribe this unfrequency of highway robbery to the great remoteness of the villages from each other, and to the severity of the climate, which must deter rogues from remaining much in the open air, especially at night. but even in summer, and in the more populous regions, where the villages are tolerably close together, highway robbery is equally rare, and the absence of this crime seems to me attributable rather to the character of the people themselves, to whom the practice seems repugnant and unnatural. it were to be wished that they had the same instinctive aversion to robbery without violence, but this unfortunately is not the case. as i was a frequent sufferer from the nimbleness of their fingers, i had occasion enough to ponder on the causes of this striking propensity of theirs, and i came to the conclusion, paradoxical as it may perhaps seem, that it arises not so much from want of moral feeling as from want of intellectual cultivation. most of the common folk who are given to this vice (for among educated persons it is as rare and is reputed as infamous as in any other country) see no harm at all in pilfering, and are, therefore, prone to practise it whenever they have an opportunity. i am fully persuaded that these people, who are often the most good-natured and even honest-hearted fellows, would desist from the practice if they were once taught to regard it in a different light, and were made conscious of its impropriety. this is a case as to which primary instruction, village schools, and church sermons, in the vernacular tongue, would deal most happily and beneficially for the morals of the nation. but village schools are rare, and sermons or religious instruction of any kind, are rarer still; books there are none, and if there were any the populace could not read them. what means then have they of becoming enlightened as to themselves and the things around them, and of correcting the views and notions handed down to them from generation to generation? centuries ago they worked out for themselves their own system of ethics, if i may so speak, and they now make the best they can of it. certain things, for instance, such as household furniture and the like, are regarded as sacred; the owners may leave them all night in the street, and be sure of finding them again in the morning, whereas there are a thousand other things which they cannot watch too carefully, though far less serviceable, and consequently less tempting. on the former there is a sort of interdict laid by tacit consent, whereas the latter are looked upon as common property. the same man who will not hesitate to pick another's pocket, or to filch something from his table, will never, even though quite safe from detection, open a closed door, or put his hand in at an open window to take any thing out of a room. he would call this 'stealing' (_vorit_,) and that has an ugly sound even in russian ears, and is considered a great sin. but the first-mentioned little matters he looks on as allowed, or at least not forbidden, and he applies to them the endearing diminutive _vorovat_, a pretty, harmless word, not at all associated with the odious idea of thieving properly so called. to put this matter in a clearer light i will relate two little incidents that came under my own personal observation. "i was once in the house of a common chapman on an affair of business, in which he behaved like an upright worthy man. we had finished the transaction between us, and were sipping our tea, when an old man with an open, honest-looking countenance, but very poorly clad, came in and offered the chapman a silver spoon for sale. after some chaffering the latter bought the spoon at a price much below its worth, and said, banteringly, as he paid over the money: '_sukin tu sin, tu vorovat_.' 'you pilfered it, you son of a b----.' (this last phrase, as i have elsewhere remarked, is practically equivalent to 'my good friend,' or the like.) the old man looked at him with a roguish twinkle of the eye, laid his hand on his breast, and said very gravely: '_niet sudar, bog podal_,' 'no, sir, god bestowed it,' and then went quietly about his business. i often took pains to come at the special meaning of this '_bog podal_,' by a series of indirect questions, and every time i became more and more assured that by many persons the phrase was understood as signifying a sort of divine permission to steal. "the second anecdote is perhaps still more characteristic. in the year i was on my way with a german friend to the country-seat of count s. we thought we were the only persons in our little open carriage who understood the german language, in which we conversed, when, to our surprise, our long-bearded _ishvorshtik_ (coachman) joined in the discourse with great fluency, though his german was somewhat broken. observing our astonishment, he told us that he had been in germany, and had served in a detached corps of the army, which had been organised in the form of a _landwehr_, or local militia: he had passed a summer in saxony, and seen leipsig, dresden, wittenberg, &c. all this he told us with an air of no small self-complacency. 'and how did you like germany?' said i. 'why, pretty well,' he answered, 'only for one thing that i could not abide at all.' he might have settled there advantageously, and his colonel would have given him his discharge, as the corps was to be disbanded; but this _one thing_ he talked of was not to be got over, and so he had preferred to return home. 'and what was this thing that stuck so in your stomach?' 'sir,' said he, turning to us with one eye half shut, and speaking almost in a whisper, '_sudar, vorovat ne velat_,' 'sir, they won't allow a body to do a wee bit of pilfering.' we were not a little confounded by this unexpected reply, and my friend, who had not been long in russia, was beginning to lecture him on the enormity of such principles, when the coachman, who had no mind to hear a long sermon, laughingly cut short the preacher's harangue, and gave him to understand that he was wandering wide of the mark. 'o, you don't understand me, _sudar_, i don't mean stealing; of course not; i know very well it is a bad thing; i only mean _vorovat_, which surely ought to be allowed everywhere; leastways it ought to be allowed to a poor soldier.' "the world is ruled by opinion: we should therefore try to set this governing power right, where we can, and where that may not be one, we should at least make the best use we can of it in the state in which we find it. russia affords one striking exemplification of this wise system of compromise with reference to the subject we have been discussing. it is a received opinion among the populace, as i have said, that a man may filch a little from a stranger without being guilty of downright dishonesty, but to rob one's own master, is a grievous and unpardonable sin. hence, the surest way of protecting yourself against a house-thief, when you once know him, is to take him into your service. from that moment you are not only safe from any larceny on his part, but you have secured besides the best watch against all other thieves, since it is a point of honour with him to prevent all acts of peculation that might entail suspicion on himself; and he knows practically all the tricks and stratagems against which he must be on his guard. an officer of high rank in the russian army, a german by birth, told me, that once when his battalion had to encamp for several weeks together along with a cossack pult, he and his men had like to be stripped of all they had by a continual course of thieving. every morning brought a disastrous list of clothes missing, horse trappings carried off, &c. &c. more sentinels were placed, strict vigilance was observed, but every precaution failed. almost at his wit's end, the officer complained to the hetman of the pult, and was advised by him to withdraw all his own sentries, and to make one of the cossacks mount guard in his own quarters, and in every division of those occupied by his men. the german could not help thinking the proposed measure very like committing the fold to the custody of the wolf, but as he knew nothing better he could do, he adopted it, and from that moment all the thieving was at an end. the cossacks always laid themselves down at nightfall right before the doors of the quarters and stables, and the officer never again heard even of any attempt to annoy him or his men. such is the force of opinion, and of the manner in which these people (and all of us, too, if we will but own it) are in the habit of seeing things."--_von littrow._ von littrow remarks that we ought not to be too hasty in laying to the account of moral depravity the nimbleness of finger of the russian peasant, but consider whether even among the most civilised people there are not some relics of the olden barbarism, some striking deviations from moral propriety, which opinion is pleased to look on with indulgence. books change owners in the german universities by a surreptitious process, for which a slang word has been adopted. this kind of _vorovat_ is called "shooting" (_schiessen_) and some very learned professors we are told, plume themselves on the skill with which they contrive to "shoot" rare specimens of natural history, &c. there are men otherwise of great probity and worth, who we fear are not always scrupulously careful to return a borrowed umbrella. _russian servants._--"where a german would think himself very well off with the attendance of one woman servant, a russian tradesman, in like pecuniary circumstances, keeps at least four; but the german's one servant does quite as much as the russian's four put together. in the houses of the wealthy, the number of menservants amounts to fifty, sixty, and even a hundred or more. there is an intendant and a _maître-d'hôtel_, a couple of dozen of pages and footmen, the master of the house's own men, the lady's own men, and again own men for the young gentlemen and for the young ladies; then come the butlers, caterers, hunters, doorkeepers, porters, couriers, coachmen, and stable-boys, grooms and outriders, cooks and under-cooks, confectioners, stove-lighters, and chamber-cleaners, &c. &c., not to mention the female servants of all sorts. but the worst of the thing is the continual increase of this numerous body; for it is a matter of course in russia that every married man who enters service takes his wife with him; his children, too, belong to the house and remain in it; nay, his kith and kin, if not actually domesticated in the establishment, take up their abode in it for days and weeks together, without demur; besides which, the friends and acquaintances of the servants may drop in when they please, and partake of bed and board. 'when i married,' said a wealthy russian to me, 'i made up my mind to have no more of these good-for-nothing people in my house than were unavoidably necessary for myself and my wife, and i therefore restricted myself to forty, but after the lapse of three or four years, i remarked, to my great astonishment, that this number was already almost doubled.' in any other country, some three or four of these fellows would be thought enough to wait at table even in the best appointed houses; but in russia, where dinner parties often consist of forty or fifty persons, there must be a servant behind every chair, or the whole set out would be considered extremely shabby. it was formerly the custom generally, and it is so still in the country-houses of the great, to have a footman constantly stationed in each of the rooms of the numerous suite of apartments, and one or two lads outside, their business being to do the office now performed by bells. an order given by the lord of the mansion in the innermost apartment, was transmitted from room to room, and from door to door, until it reached the last of the train, who fetched the article called for, and so it was passed from hand to hand until it reached the _gosudar_ (the lord). "a polish countess told me, that she once called on count orloff on business, and while they were conversing, the count desired the servant who stood by the door, to call for a glass of water. the man disappeared for a moment to speak to his next neighbour, and immediately returned to his post; half-an-hour elapsed, and no water came. the thirsty count had to repeat the order, and turning to the countess, he said, 'see what a poor man i am; i have more than a hundred and twenty servants in this house alone, and if i want a glass of water, i cannot have it.' the countess smiled at the poor man, and told him that if he was a good deal poorer, and had but one servant, he would be better attended on. the countess orloff, his daughter, who inherited his whole fortune, is said to have upwards of servants of both sexes in her palace at moscow, and to maintain a special hospital for them."--_von littrow._ chapter x. departure for the caspian--iekaterinoslav--potemkin's ruined palace--paskevitch's caucasian guard--sham fight--intolerable heat--cataracts of the dniepr--german colonies--the setcha of the zaporogues--a french steward--night adventure--colonies of the moloshnia vodi--mr. cornies--the doukoboren, a religious sect. about the middle of may, , we left the shores of the black sea, accompanied by a cossack and an excellent dragoman, who spoke all the dialects current in southern russia. after we had travelled more than leagues upwards along the banks of the dniepr, we reached iekaterinoslav, a new town, which about fifty years ago consisted only of some wretched fishermen's cabins, scattered along the margin of the river. iekaterinoslav, founded in by the great catherine, who laid the first stone in the presence of the emperor joseph ii., is built on such a gigantic plan as makes it a perfect wilderness, in which the sparse houses and scanty population seem lost, as it were. its wide and regular streets, marked out only by a few dwellings at long intervals, seem to have been planned for a million of souls; a whole government would have to be unpeopled to fill them, and give them that life and movement so necessary to a capital. but there seems no likelihood that time will fill up the void spaces of this desert, for the number of its inhabitants has not much increased within forty years; it is a stationary town, which will probably never realise the expectations formed by the empress when she gave it her name. it contains, however, some large buildings, numerous churches, bazaars, and charming gardens. but for the absurd mania of the russians for planning their towns on an enormous scale, it would be a delightful abode, rich in its beautiful dniepr and the fertile hills around it. but iekaterinoslav possesses one thing that distinguishes it from all the towns with which russian civilisation is beginning to cover the south of the empire; and that is potemkin's palace and garden. the palace is in ruins though it was built for catherine ii., barely sixty years ago. the indifference of the russians for their historical monuments is so great, that they hasten to destroy them, merely to clear the ground of things that have ceased to be of use. the government, despotic as it is, unfortunately has not the power to stay the instinctive vandalism of its people. we will give melancholy proofs of this by and by, when we come to speak of the ancient tombs of the crimea, so rich in objects of art, and so precious for their antiquity, yet which, in spite of the pretended care of the police, are day by day disappearing before the barbarous cupidity of the peasants, and still more of the _employés_. to judge from its remains, potemkin's palace appears to have been one of truly royal magnificence; on each side are still standing wings which must have contained a great number of apartments. there is a profusion of colonnades, porticoes, capitals, and beautiful cornices in the italian style of the period; but all is at the mercy of the first peasant who wants stones or wood to repair his cabin. the ground is all strewed over with shapeless fragments, blocks of stone, and broken shafts. nothing can look more sad than such skeletons of monuments which no accumulated ages have hallowed, and which have not even a veil of ivy to hide their decrepitude, nor any thing to throw a cast of dignity over their blank disorder. the feeling they impart is like that produced by the effects of an earthquake: no lesson given by the past, nothing for the imagination to feed on: no chronicles, no poetry. the haughty catherine little suspected that one day the serfs would carry away piecemeal that magnificent edifice planned by the inventive genius of her favourite, at the most brilliant period of her life. it was there she rested from the fatigues of her fantastic journey, and prepared herself for the new wonders that awaited her in the crimea. the amorous sovereign of the largest empire in the world, left the ices of st. petersburg, and performed a journey of versts, to visit the richest jewel added to her imperial crown, that enchanting tauris which potemkin laid at her feet. at intervals all along the route from iekaterinoslav to kherson, stand little pyramids surrounded by a balustrade, to mark the spots where the empress halted, changed horses, &c. in many places are still to be seen palaces that suddenly sprang up on her way, as if at the touch of an enchanter's wand. the whole tract of country is stamped with reminiscences of her grandeur, though she but passed rapidly through these deserts, which were metamorphosed beneath her glance into smiling and populous plains. of all these ephemeral palaces, that of iekaterinoslav was the most worthy to harbour the imperial beauty. it stands on a gentle slope descending to the dniepr, and is still surrounded with a magnificent park, presenting an admirable variety of sites and views: forests, labyrinths, and granite rocks, clothed with rich vegetation, with paths so capricious, thickets so dense, and resting-places so mysterious, that every step reveals some token of the genius of a courtier, and the power of an empress. opposite the palace a little granite island lifts itself above the waters of the dniepr like a nereid. its sole inhabitants are some white albatrosses and an old forest-keeper, whose cabin is hidden among trees. he leads a true hermit life. his gun and his fishing-tackle supply his food; the bushes and briars yield him firing, and thus he finds every thing requisite for his wants within the limits of his retreat. he has a nutshell of a boat, in which he can visit every nook of the island shore, which he shares with the fowls of the air. except a few fishermen, no one ventures to thread that labyrinth of rocks and whirlpools that render the dniepr so dangerous hereabouts. besides potemkin's park, the town has another of great beauty, which serves as a public promenade. it is crowded twice a week, when a military band performs. its extent, its broad sheets of water, its shady alleys and fine expanse of lawn, make it one of the handsomest gardens i have seen in russia. we spent a week in iekaterinoslav under the roof of an excellent french family long settled in the country. the cloth factory of messrs. neumann is the only industrial establishment in the town. their machines, imported from france and england, and their thorough knowledge of their business, enable them to give the utmost perfection to their goods, notwithstanding which m. neumann assured us that he should certainly be obliged to shut up his establishment before the lapse of two years. we have already set forth the causes that obstruct the progress of manufactures in russia, and completely paralyse the industrial efforts of the ablest men. during our stay in iekaterinoslav, we had all the pleasure of an excursion into the mountains of asia, without the trouble of changing our place. it is only in russia one can encounter such lucky chances. three hundred mountaineers of the caucasus arrived in the town, and by the governor's desire entertained the inhabitants with a display of their warlike games and exercises. they were on their way to warsaw, to serve as a guard of honour for paskevitch, the hero of the day. this whim of a man spoiled by fortune and the emperor, is tolerably characteristic of the russians: merely to satisfy it, some hundreds of mountaineers had to quit their families, and traverse vast distances to go and parade on the great square of a capital. the sight of those half-barbarians arriving like a torrent, and taking possession of the town as of a conquered place, was well calculated to excite our curiosity. we forgot time and place as we gazed on this unwonted spectacle, and seemed carried back among the gigantic invasions of tamerlane, and his exterminating hordes of asia, with their wild cries and picturesque costumes, swooping down with long lances and fiery steeds on old europe, just as they appeared some centuries before, when they subjected all the wide domains of russia to their sway. these mountaineers are small, agile, and muscular. there is no saying how they walk, for their life is passed on horseback. there is in the expression of their countenances, an inconceivable mixture of boldness, frankness, and fierce rapacity. their bronzed complexion, dazzlingly white teeth, black eyes, every glance of which is a flash of lightning, and regular features, compose a physiognomy that terrifies more than great ugliness. their manoeuvres surpass every thing an european can imagine. how cold, prim, and faded seem our civilised ways compared with those impassioned countenances, those picturesque costumes, those furious gallops, that grace and impetuosity of movement, that belong only to them. they discharge their carbines on horseback at full speed, and display inimitable address in the exercise of the djereed. every rider decks his steed with a care he does not always bestow on his own adornment, covering it with carpets, strips of purple stuffs, cashmere shawls, and all the costly things with which the plunder of the caravans can supply him. the manoeuvres lasted more than two hours, and afforded us an exact image of asiatic warfare. they concluded with a general _mêlée_, which really terrified not a few spectators, so much did the smoke, the shouts, the ardour of the combatants, the discharges of musketry, and the neighings of the horses complete the vivid illusion of the scene. it was at last impossible to distinguish any thing through the clouds of dust and smoke that whirled round the impetuous riders. paskevitch will perhaps be more embarrassed with them than he expects. from the moment these lions of the desert arrived, the town was in a state of revolution. the shopkeepers complained of their numerous thefts, and husbands and fathers were shocked at their cavalier manners towards the fair sex. though it was but the beginning of june, the heat had attained an intensity that made it literally a public calamity. the hospitals were crowded with patients, most of them labouring under cerebral fevers, a class of affections exceedingly dangerous in this country. the dust lay so thick in the street, that the foot sank in it as in snow, and for more than a fortnight the thermometer had remained invariably at ° r. you have but to visit russia to know what is the heat of the tropics. we nevertheless carried away not a few agreeable recollections of iekaterinoslav, thanks to its charming position, and some distinguished _salons_ of which it has reason to be proud. on leaving iekaterinoslav we proceeded to the famous cataracts of the dniepr, on which attempts have been ineffectually made for more than a hundred years to render them navigable, and in the vicinity of which there are several german colonies. my husband having in the preceding year discovered a rich iron mine in this locality, we had to stop some time to make fresh investigations. i have already spoken so much of the dniepr, that i am almost afraid to return to the subject. in this part of its course, however, there is nothing like the maritime views of kherson, the plavnicks of the doutchina, or the cheerful bold aspect of the vicinity of iekaterinoslav. near the cataracts, the river has all the depth and calmness of a beautiful lake; not a ripple breaks its dark azure surface. its bed is flanked by huge blocks of granite, that seem as though they had been piled up at random by the hands of giants. every thing is grand and majestic in these scenes of primeval nature; nothing in them reminds us of the flight and the ravages of time. there are no trees shedding their leaves on the river's margin, no turf that withers, no soil worn away by the flood: the scene is an image of eternal changelessness. the dniepr has deeps here which no plummet has ever fathomed, and the inhabitants allege that it harbours real marine monsters in its abysses. all the fishermen have seen the silurus, a sort of fresh water shark, capable of swallowing a man or a horse at a mouthful, and they relate anecdotes on this head, that transport you to the nile or the ganges, the peculiar homes of the voracious crocodile and alligator. one of these stories is of very recent date, and there are many boatmen who pretend to speak of the fact from personal knowledge. they positively aver, that a young girl, who was washing linen on the margin of the water, was carried down to the bottom of the dniepr, and that her body never again rose to the surface. a german village is visible on the other side of the river, at some distance from the house of mr. masure, the proprietor of the mine. its pretty red factories with their green window-shutters, the surrounding forest, and a neighbouring island with cliffs glistening in the sun, fill the mind with thoughts of tranquil happiness. on the distant horizon the eye discerns the rent and pointed rocks, and the fleecy spray of the cataracts. here and there some rocks just rising above the water, one of which, surnamed the brigand, is the terror of boatmen, are the haunts of countless water-fowl, whose riotous screams long pursue the traveller as he ferries across from bank to bank. all this scene is cheerful and pastoral, like one of greuze's landscapes; but the bare hills that follow the undulations of the left bank show only dreariness and aridity. the germans settled below the cataracts of the dniepr are the oldest colonists of southern russia: their colony was founded by catherine ii., in , after the expulsion of the zaporogue cossacks, who were removed to the banks of the kouban. it is composed solely of prussian mennonites, and comprises sixteen villages, numbering inhabitants, very industrious people, generally in the enjoyment of an ample competence. corn and cattle form the staple of their wealth, but they are also manufacturers, and have two establishments for making cotton goods, and one for cloth. these mennonites, however, have remained stationary since their arrival in russia: full of prejudices, and intensely self-willed, they have set their faces against all innovation and all intellectual development. one of their villages stands on the island of cortetz, in the dniepr, once the seat of the celebrated setcha of the zaporogue cossacks. the setcha, as the reader is perhaps aware, was at first only a fortified spot, where the young men were trained to arms, and where the public deliberations and the elections of the chiefs were held. afterwards it became the fixed abode of warriors who lived in celibacy; and all who aspired to a reputation for valour were bound to pass at least three years there. i went over the island of cortetz, and saw everywhere numerous traces of fortifications and entrenched camps. it would not have been easy to select a position more suited to the purpose the cossacks had in view. the island is a natural fortress, rising more than feet above the water, and defended on all sides by masses of granite, that leave scarcely any thing for art to do to render it impregnable. we made our first halt, after our departure from the cataracts, at the house of a village superintendent, in whom we discovered, with surprise, a young frenchman, with the most parisian accent i ever heard. he is married to a woman of the country, and has been two years _prigatchik_ (superintendent) in one of general markof's villages. he placed his whole cabin at our disposal, with an alacrity that proved how delighted he was to entertain people from his native land. we had excellent honey, cream, and water-melons, set before us in profusion; but in spite of all our urgent entreaties, we could not prevail on him to partake with us. this made a painful impression on us. is the air of slavery so contagious that no one can breathe it without losing his personal dignity? this man, born in a land where social distinctions are almost effaced, voluntarily degraded himself in our eyes, by esteeming himself unworthy to sit by our side, just as though he were a born serf, and had been used from his childhood to servility. he gave us a brief history of his life, a melancholy tissue of disappointments and wretchedness, the narration of which deeply affected us. his ardour and his parisian wilfulness, his efforts and his hopes, all the exuberance of his twenty years, were cast into a withering atmosphere of disgusts and humiliations, which at last destroyed in him all feeling of nationality: he is become a slave through his intercourse alike with the masters and with the serfs; and what completely proves this, is the cold-blooded cruelty with which he chastises the peasants under him. the whole village is struck with consternation at the punishments he daily inflicts for the most trivial offences. while he was conversing with us, word was brought him that two women and three men had arrived at the place of punishment in pursuance to his orders. notwithstanding our entreaties, and the repugnance we felt at being so near such a scene, he ordered that they should each receive fifty blows of the stick, and double the number if they made any resistance. the wretched man thus avenges himself on the mujiks, for what he has himself endured at the hands of the russian aristocracy, and it is at best a hazardous revenge; even for his own sake he ought not to exasperate the peasants, who sometimes make fearful reprisals; frequent attempts have already been made to assassinate him, and although the criminals have paid dearly for their temerity, he may one day fall a victim to some more cunning or more fortunate aggressor. only the week before our visit, as his wife told us, a more daring attempt than any preceding one, had been made by a peasant who from the first had declared himself his enemy. after a long walk in the fields, the superintendent sat down under the shade of some trees in a ravine. overcome with heat and fatigue, he at last fell asleep, after placing his two pistols by his side. an instinctive fear possessed him even in sleep, and kept him sensible of the least noise around him. the body slept, but not the mind. suddenly his ear catches a suspicious sound; he opens his eyes, and sees a mujik stooping down softly in the act of picking up one of his pistols. there was so much ferocity in the man's looks, and such a stealthiness in his movements, that there could be no doubt of his intentions. the superintendent, with admirable presence of mind, raised himself on his elbow, and asked, with a yawn, what he was going to do with the pistol; to which the mujik, instantly putting on an air of affected stolidity peculiar to the russian serf, answered, that he was curious to see how a pistol was made. so saying, he handed the weapon to his master, without appearing in the least disconcerted. the unfortunate man nearly died under the knout, and the superintendent's wife remarked, with a _naïveté_, thoroughly russian, that he would have done much better to die outright. we had further opportunities in this village for remarking how little compassion the russian peasants have for each other. they look on at the beating of a comrade without evincing the least sympathy, or being moved by so degrading a sight to any reflection on their unhappy condition; it seems as though humanity has lost all claim on their hearts, so completely has servitude destroyed in them all capability of feeling, and all human dignity. we left this station about six in the evening, having still some twenty versts to travel before arriving at the first village of the german colonies of the moloshnia, where we intended to pass the night. thanks to the bad horses and the stupid driver our countryman had given us, we had scarcely got over a quarter of the ground when we were in total darkness. the coachman was all black and blue from the brutal treatment of his master, who had given him half a dozen blows in our presence. the fellow was every moment changing his road at random, without regard to the fresh corrections of the same sort, which antoine showered thickly upon him by way of admonition. he made us lose a great deal of time on the way, besides wearing out the strength of his cattle to no purpose. nothing can be more wearisome and monotonous than travelling in the steppes; but it is, above all, by night that the uniformity of the country is truly discouraging, for then you are every moment in danger of turning your back on the point you want to reach: you have an immensity like that of the sea around you, and a compass would be of real service. such, however, is the instinct of the peasants, that they find their way with ease, in the darkest night or the most violent snow-storm, through tracks crossing each other in every direction. our driver was an exception to the general rule, but sulkiness had more to do than inability with his apparent embarrassment. our perplexity increased considerably when we found that the horses at last refused to move. the night was very gloomy; there was not a twinkling of light, nor any sound or sign of human habitations; every fresh question we put to our driver only elicited the laconic answer, "_nesnai_" (i don't know); and when a russian has said _he does not know_, no power of tongue or stick can make him say _he knows_. of this we had a proof that night. our cossack, tired of vainly questioning the unlucky driver, began to tickle his shoulders with a long whip he carried at his girdle; but it was all to no purpose; and but one course remained to us, if we would not pass the night in the open air. the cossack unharnessed one of the horses, and set off to reconnoitre. after an absence of two hours, he came back and told us we were not very far from a german village, and that we might reach it in two hours; that is to say, provided our horses would move; but they were dead beat. here, again, the cossack relieved us from our difficulty, by yoking to the carriage a poor little colt that had followed its mother, without suspecting that it was that night to begin its hard apprenticeship. weak as was this reinforcement, it enabled us to advance, though very slowly; but at last the barking of dogs revived the mettle of our horses, and they broke into a trot for the first time. a forest of handsome trees and distant lights gave indubitable assurance of a village. it was not like the ordinary villages, collections of mean-looking _kates_ rising like mushrooms out of the arid ground, without a shrub to screen them; we were entering the german colonies, and the odours from the blossoming fruit-trees, and the sight of the pretty little red houses of which we caught glimpses through the trees, soon carried us in imagination far away from the russian steppes. with as keen delight as ever oasis caused the desert wanderer, we entered this pretty village, the name of which (_rosenthal_, rosedale) gives token of the poetic feeling of the germans. its extensive gardens obliged us to make a long _détour_. the people were all in bed when we arrived, and we had much difficulty in finding the house of the _schultz_ (the headborough). at last we discovered it, and the hospitable reception we met with soon made us forget the events of this memorable night. the region occupied by these colonies is unlike the steppes, though the form of the ground is the same. the villages are very close to each other, are all built on the same plan, and are for the most part sheltered in ravines. the houses have only a ground-floor, and are built with wood or with red and blue bricks, and have very projecting roofs. their parti-coloured walls, their carved wooden chimneys, and pretty straw roofs, that seem as neatly finished as the finest egyptian mats, produce a charming effect as seen through the green trees of the gardens that surround them. they are almost all exactly similar, even to the most minute details: a few only are distinguished from the rest by a little more colouring or carving, and a more elegant balustrade next the garden. the fields are in excellent cultivation; the pastures are stocked with fine cattle; and sheep-folds and wells placed here and there enliven the landscape, and break the fatiguing monotony of the plain; the whole face of the country tells of the thriving labours of the colonists. but one must enter their houses to appreciate the habits of order and industry to which they owe not only an ample supply for the necessaries of life, but almost always a degree of comfort rarely to be found in the dwellings of the russian nobles. one might even accuse the good housewives of a little sensuality, to see their eider-down beds and pillows heaped almost up to the ceiling. you may be certain of finding in every house a handsome porcelain stove, a glazed cupboard, containing crockery, and often plate, furniture carefully scrubbed and polished, curtains to the windows, and flowers in every direction. we passed two days in orlof with the wealthiest and most philanthropic proprietor in all the german villages. m. cornies came into the country about forty years ago, and started without capital, having like the others only a patch of land and some farming implements. after the lapse of a few years every one already envied his fortune, but all acknowledged his kindly solicitude for those who had been less prosperous than himself. endowed with an active and intelligent character, and strongly interested in the cause of human improvement, he afterwards became the leader in the work of civilising the nogai tartars, and he now continues with very great success the work so ably begun by one of our own countrymen, count maison. m. cornies is a corresponding member of the st. petersburg academy, and has contributed to its transactions several papers of learned research, and remarkable for the comprehensive scope of their ideas; hence he enjoys a great reputation not only among his countrymen, but likewise throughout all southern russia. his flocks, his nurseries, and his wools, are objects of interest to all persons engaged in trade, and his plans for the improvement of agriculture and cattle rearing, are generally adopted as models. though m. cornies is worth more than , _l._, his way of life is in strict conformity with the rigorism and simplicity of the mennonites, to which sect he belongs. the habits of these sectarians are of an extreme austerity that strips domestic life of all its ordinary charms. the wife and daughters of a mennonite, whatever be his fortune, are the only female servants in his house, and madame cornies and her daughters waited humbly on us at table, as though they had no right to sit at it with the head of the family. notwithstanding this apparent inequality of the sexes, there is a great deal of happiness in the married life of the mennonites; nor should it be forgotten that in judging of all matters appertaining to foreigners, we should endeavour to behold things in the peculiar light in which education and custom invest them for native eyes. the dress of the women is like their habits of life, plain and simple. it consists invariably of a gown of blue printed cotton, the bodice of which ends just below the bosom, an apron of the same material, and a white collar with a flat hem; the hair is combed back _à la chinoise_, and on it sits a little black cap without trimming, tied under the chin. this head-dress, which has some resemblance to that of the alsatian women, sets off a young and pretty face to advantage, but increases the ugliness of an ugly one. the dress of the men is the same as that of the german peasants, with the exception of some slight modifications. one dish of meat and two of vegetables, compose the whole dinner of a mennonite; each person at table has a large goblet of milk set before him instead of wine, the use of which is altogether prohibited in their sect. there are no regular priests in these colonies; the oldest and most esteemed members of each community, are elected to fulfil the office of the ministry. these elders read the bible every sunday, preach, and give out the hymns, which are sung by the whole congregation. the mennonites are generally well educated; but their information has no more than their wealth the effect of impairing the patriarchal simplicity of their habits. we happened to see a young man, belonging to one of the wealthiest families, on his return from a long foreign tour; he had visited france, switzerland, and germany, and yet it was with a most cordial alacrity he returned to share in the agricultural labours of his father and his brothers. all these german colonies are divided into two distinct groups: the one established on the right bank of the moloshnia vodi[ ] is composed of people from baden and swabia, and comprises twenty-three villages, with inhabitants; the other seated on the left coast of the black sea, and along the little rivulet joushendli, contains forty-three mennonite villages. as the latter is unquestionably the most important and thriving colony in southern russia, we will direct our attention to it almost exclusively. the mennonites, so called after the name of the founder of their sect, profess nearly the same religious principles as the anabaptists of france. they first arose in holland, the language of which country they still speak, and settled towards the close of the last century in northern prussia, in the vicinity of dantzig. attempts having been made about that time, to force them into military service, contrary to their tenets, a first migration took place, and the colony of cortetz, below the cataract of the dniepr, was founded under the auspices of catherine ii. that of moloshnia vodi, was founded in , by a fresh body of emigrants; it was greatly enlarged in , and at the end of the year , it covered , hectares of land, and contained forty-three villages, with inhabitants, including families of proprietors. the non-agricultural population is composed of handicraftsmen of all sorts, some of whom are very skilful. alpstadt, the chief place of the colony, has a cloth manufactory, in which seven looms are at work. wages are very high; for almost all the workmen as soon as they have saved any money, give up their trade and addict themselves to agriculture. each village is under the control of a headborough, called the _schultz_, and two assistants. they are elected every three years, but one of them remains in office a year after the two others, that he may afford their successors the necessary current information. an _oberschultz_ (mayor), who likewise has two assistants, resides in the chief place of the colony. these magistrates decide without appeal, in all the little differences that may arise between the colonists. important cases are carried before the central committee. as for criminal cases, of which there has yet been no example, they fall under the jurisdiction of the russian tribunals. laziness is punished by fine and forced labour for the benefit of the community. the inspector, who represents the government, resides in the swabian colony, on the right bank of the moloshnia. odessa is the seat of the administrative council, which consists of a president and three judges, all russians, nominated by the emperor. the committee exercises a general control over all the colonies, and ratifies the elections of the schultzes and their assistants. its last president was the infantry general inzof, a man remarkable for his personal character and the deep interest he took in the establishments under his direction. every proprietor has sixty-five hectares of land, for which he pays an annual quit-rent to the crown of fifteen kopeks per hectare; besides which he pays four rubles a year towards defraying the general expenses of the colony, the salaries of the committee, the inspector, the schoolmasters, &c. each village has a granary for reserve against seasons of dearth; it must always contain two tchetverts of wheat for every male head. the cattle is all under the management of one chief herdsman, at whose call they leave their stalls in the morning, and return in the evening to the village. every five or six years one or more new villages are established. a newly-established family does not at once receive its sixty-five hectares of land; if the young couple do not choose to reside with their parents, they generally build themselves a little house beyond the precincts of the village. but when the young families are become so numerous that their united allotments shall form a space sufficient for the pasture of their flocks in common, and for the execution of the agricultural works enjoined by the regulations, then, and not till then, the new colonists obtain permission to establish themselves on the uncultivated lands. at present the mennonite colony possesses nearly , hectares of land not yet brought under the plough. thus these germans, transplanted to the extremity of southern russia, have successfully realised some of the ideas of the celebrated economist, fourrier. it will readily be conceived that under such a system of administration, and, above all, with their simple habits, their sobriety and industry, these mennonites must naturally have outstripped the other colonists in prosperity. those from swabia and baden, though subjected to precisely the same regulations, will never attain to the same degree of wealth. they are generally fond of good cheer, and addicted to drink; but they have, perhaps, the merit of understanding life better than their puritanical neighbours, and of making the most of the gifts providence has bestowed on them. the mennonite colony possessed at the close of :-- horned cattle , horses , merino sheep , fruit-trees in the gardens , forest trees , these last have since perished for the most part. the sale of wheat in , amounted to , rubles. the provisions for public instruction are highly satisfactory. the colony numbers forty schools, attended by pupils of both sexes, who are taught the german language, arithmetic, history, and geography. russian is also taught in two of the schools. the mennonites, as well as the other german colonists of southern russia, for a long while enjoyed a very special protection on the part of the government; and both the present sovereign and his predecessor have on several occasions given them signal proofs of their favour. but unhappily their committee was suppressed eighteen months ago, and this measure will be fatal to them. they had long looked forward with alarm to a change in their affairs, and sent many deputations to st. petersburg, to solicit a continuance of the original system: their efforts were ineffectual; the work of centralization and unity has involved them in their turn, and they are now in immediate dependence on the newly-constituted ministry of the domains of the crown. no doubt the government had a full right to act in this manner; and after having allowed the colonists to enjoy their peculiar privileges for such a long series of years, it may now, without incurring any obloquy, subject them to the ordinary system of administration prevalent in the empire. but it is not the less certain, seeing the corruption and venality of the russian functionaries, that this change of system will lead to the ruin of the colonists, and that, notwithstanding all the efforts and the good intentions of the government, when once the germans are put under the same management as the crown serfs, they will be unable to save their property from the rapacity of their new controlers. the colonies have been but a few months under the direction of the ministry of the domains, and already several hundred families have abandoned their dwellings and their lands, and retired to germany. i saw a great number of them arrive in , in moldavia, where they thought to form some settlements; but they did not succeed. besides the german colonies of which we have been speaking, there are others in the environs of nicolaïef and odessa, in bessarabia and the crimea, and about the coasts of the sea of azov. altogether these foreign colonies in new russia, number upwards of villages, containing more than , souls. in the midst of them are several villages inhabited by russian dissenters, entertaining nearly the same religious views as the mennonites and anabaptists. these are the douckoboren and molokaner, who separated from the national church about years ago, at which time they were resident in several of the central provinces; but the government being alarmed at the spread of their doctrines, transported them forcibly to new russia, where it placed them under military supervision. here they admirably availed themselves of the examples set them by the germans, and soon attained a high degree of prosperity. in , they amounted to a population of souls, occupying thirteen villages. most of their houses were in the german style, and every thing about them was indicative of plenty. two years after this first visit to them, i met on the road from taganrok to rostof, two large detachments of exiles escorted by two battalions of infantry. they were the unfortunate dissenters of the moloshnia, who had been expelled from their villages, and were on their way to the military lines of the caucasus. the most perfect decorum and the most touching resignation appeared in the whole body. the women alone showed signs of anger, whilst the men sang hymns in chorus. i asked several of them whither they were going; their answer was "god only knows." after leaving the german colonies, we passed through several villages of nogaï tatars. we shall reserve what we have to say of these people for another place. footnotes: [ ] the moloshnia vodi (milk river) is a little stream emptying itself between berdiansk and guenitshky into the liman of a lake which no longer communicates with the sea of azov. chapter xi. marioupol--berdiansk--knavish jew postmaster--taganrok-- memorials of peter the great and alexander--great fair--the general with two wives--morality in russia--adventures of a philhellene--a french doctor--the english consul--horse races--a first sight of the kalmucks. our arrival in marioupol unpleasantly reminded us that we were no longer in the german colonies. a dirty inn-room, horses not forthcoming, bread not to be had, nor even fresh water, rude _employés_--every thing in short was in painful contrast with the comfort and facilities to which we became accustomed in our progress through the thriving villages of the mennonites. marioupol is the chief place of an important colony founded on the shores of the sea of azov, at the mouth of the kalmious, by the greeks whom catherine ii. removed thither from the crimea in . it now reckons eighty villages, a population of about , , occupying , _hectares_[ ] of land. the taxes paid by these colonists amount to ten kopeks per _hectare_; in addition to which, each family contributes one ruble fifty kopeks towards the salary of the government officers in their district. they enjoy several privileges, have their own magistrates and subordinate judges, elected by themselves, and are exempt from military service. criminal cases and suits not terminated before their own tribunals, come under the general laws and regulations of the empire. agriculture and commerce are the chief resources of the colony, but i have seen no trace of the mulberry plantations attributed to it. having been for a long series of ages subject to the khans of the crimea, all these greeks speak a corrupt tatar dialect among themselves. they are on the whole a degenerate and thoroughly unprincipled race, particularly in marioupol, the traders of which enrich themselves by robbing the agriculturists, who are forced to sell them their produce. marioupol is a large dirty village, and its port, which has only a custom-house of exit, is nothing but a paltry roadstead of little depth, in which vessels are sheltered from none but western winds. with the exception of a solitary brig, there were only some small coasting vessels in it when we visited the place. its export trade is considerable notwithstanding, amounting to the annual value of four or five millions of francs. marioupol is infallibly destined to lose all its commercial importance since the foundation of the new and more advantageously-situated harbour of berdiansk, to which the greater part of the produce of the surrounding country already takes its way. as a general rule, one town of southern russia can prosper only at the expense and by the abandonment of another; thus kherson has been sacrificed to odessa, theodosia to kertch, &c. it must, however, be owned that the preference given to berdiansk is well grounded. placed at the mouth of the berda, that town is unquestionably the best port on the sea of azov. its population in was , and during the year it exported , tchetverts of wheat; its importation is a blank as yet. after waiting several hours we at last procured horses that conveyed us rapidly to the next post; but there we had another stoppage. the clerk had a fancy to squeeze our purses, and knew no better way of doing so than by refusing us horses. commands, threats, and abuse, never for a moment ruffled his dogged composure. unfortunately our cossack had been seized with a violent fever, and remained behind at marioupol; had he been with us the clerk would hardly have ventured on his tricks, for he would have been sure of a sound drubbing. but this manner of enforcing compliance was not in our way, and as we had written authority to hire horses from the peasants wherever we found them, we sent anthony to the next village, and thought no more about being supplied by the postmaster. our unconcern began to alarm the clerk; gangs of horses were every moment returning from pasture, and he saw plainly that his position was becoming critical. after an hour's absence anthony appeared in the distance with three stout horses and a driver. i will not attempt to depict the consternation of the jew when he was assured that the team was really for us. he threw himself at our feet, knocked his head against the ground, and in short, evinced such a passion of grovelling fear, that disgusted and wearied with his importunities, we at last promised not to make any complaint against him. we made all haste to quit the spot, and in five hours afterwards we were in taganrok. the town, situated on the bay of the same name at the northern extremity of the sea of azov, is the chief place of a distinct administrative district, dependent on iekaterinoslav only as regards the courts of law, and comprising within its limits, rostof, marioupol, nakitchevane, and a little territory lying round the northern end of the sea, and encompassed by the country of the don. its boundaries are, on one side, the mious, which falls into the sea of azov, and on the other side, the government of the cossacks of the black sea. taganrok was founded in , by peter the great, after the taking of azov, and was demolished in pursuance of the treaty of the pruth. war with turkey having been renewed, it was rebuilt in , and fortified; and a harbour was constructed, surrounded with a mole, the remains of which are still seen just level with the surface of the water. this harbour is a long rectangle, with a single entrance towards the west. there is some idea of renovating it, by reconstructing its mole, and clearing it of the sand with which it has been long choked; but this project, if carried into effect, will not remove the natural defects of the taganrok roadstead. the water is so low, that vessels are obliged to lie from four to six leagues off the shore, and to load and unload their cargoes in a curious round-about, and very expensive manner. waggons surmounted with platforms loaded with grain, perform the first part of the process, and advance in files, often to a distance of half a league into the sea. there they are unloaded into large barges, and these almost always require the aid of a third auxiliary, before their freight is finally shipped. on approaching taganrok, one almost fancies the town before him is odessa. its position on the sea of azov, the character of the landscape, its churches, its great extent, and every feature of the place, even to the fortress commanding it, combine to favour the illusion. taganrok has thriven rapidly, as peter the great foresaw it would do, and has become one of the most commercial towns of southern russia. its trade, however, has considerably diminished since the suppression of its lazaret, and the closure of the sea of azov, in consequence of a fifty days' quarantine established at kertch. the town now contains , inhabitants. peter the great's sojourn in taganrok, is commemorated by an oak wood of his own planting. such a memorial of a great prince is certainly better than a pompous monument; more durable, and more philanthropic, particularly in a country destitute of forests. it was at taganrok that the emperor alexander died, far away from the splendours of st. petersburg. as we visited the modest dwelling that served him for his last abode, all the events of the great epoch in which he was one of the most illustrious actors crowded on our memories. the bed-room where he died has been converted into a _chapelle ardente_, but in every other respect the house has been preserved with religious care, just as he left it. there was a fair in the town when we arrived. the suffocating heat, the clouds of dust, and the crowded state of all the hotels, at first made us look unfavourably on the place, but the diversions of the fair soon reconciled us to the inconveniences of our lodgings. in russia, fairs still retain an importance they scarcely any longer possess in our more civilised countries. every town has its own, which is more or less frequented; that of nijni novgorod is reputed the most considerable on the european continent; all the nations of europe and asia, send their representatives to it. next after it, the fair of karkhof, is in high esteem among merchants for its rich furs. these fairs often last more than a month, and they are impatiently looked forward to by all the country nobles, whom they enable for a while to breathe as it were the odour of fashionable town life. balls, theatres, shopping, music, horse races--what a world of pleasures in the compass of a few days! and every one sets about enjoying them with feverish ardour. every thing else is interrupted; the fair to-day, all other concerns to-morrow. at some little distance from taganrok, there are huge bazaars filled with oriental merchandise, and the covered alleys are crowded with fashionable loungers in the evening. a very curious spectacle indeed is this labyrinth of persian cloths, slippers, furs, parisian bonnets and caps, shawls from kashmir, and a thousand other articles too numerous to detail. every thing is arranged to the best advantage, and the eye is delighted with the picturesque and fantastic medley of colours and forms. europe and asia are matched against each other, and exert all their arts of fascination to allure purchasers. in spite of all the elegance of the french fashions, it must be owned that our little bonnets and our scanty mantillas cut but a sorry figure beside the muslins interwoven with gold and silver, the rich termalamas and the furs that adorn the shops of the country. and yet all eyes, all desires, all purses turn towards the productions of france. some faded ribands and trumpery bonnets attract a greater number of pretty customers than all the gorgeous wares of asia. during our stay at taganrok, we were invited to a ball at the mansion of general khersanof, son-in-law of the celebrated hetman platof. the general possesses the handsomest residence in the town, and keeps his state like a real prince, amidst the motley society of a commercial town. all his apartments are stuccoed and decorated with equal taste and magnificence. the windows consist of single panes of plate glass more than three yards high. the furniture, lustres, ceilings, and pictures, all display a feeling for the fine arts, and a sumptuosity governed by good taste, which may well surprise us in a cossack. in front of the mansion lies a handsome garden, which was lighted up with coloured lamps for the occasion. the whole front of the dwelling was brilliantly illuminated. it was a magic _coup d'oeil_, particularly as it was aided by the transparent atmosphere of a beautiful summer night, that vied in purity with the clearest of those of the south. on entering the first _salon_, we were met by the general, who immediately presented us to his two wives. but the reader will say, is bigamy allowed among the cossacks? not exactly so; but if the laws and public opinion are against it, still a man of high station may easily evade both; and general khersanof has been living for many years in open, avowed bigamy, without finding that his _salons_ are the less frequented on account of such a trifle. in russia, wealth covers every thing with its glittering veil, and sanctions every kind of eccentricity, however opposed to the usages of the land, provided it redeem them by plenty of balls and entertainments. public opinion, such as exists in france, is here altogether unknown. the majority leave scruples of conscience to timorous souls, without even so much as acknowledging their merit. a man the slave of his word, and a woman of her reputation, could not be understood in a country where caprice reigns as absolute sovereign. a russian lady, to whom i made some remarks on this subject, answered _naïvely_, that none but low people could be affected by scandal, inasmuch as censure can only proceed from superiors. she was perfectly right, for, situated as the nobility are, who would dare to criticise and condemn their faults? in order that public opinion should exist, there must be an independent class, capable of uttering its judgments without fearing the vengeance of those it calls before its bar; there must be a free country in which the acts of every individual may be impartially appreciated; in short, the words justice, honour, honesty, and delicacy of feeling must have a real meaning, instead of being the sport of an elegant and corrupt caste, that systematically makes a mock of every thing not subservient to its caprices and passions. notwithstanding their opulence, and the society that frequents their _salons_, mesdames khersanof retain a simplicity of manners and costume in curious contrast with every thing around them. an embarrassed air, vulgar features, an absence of all dignity in bearing and in conversation, and an ungainly style of dress--this was all that struck us as most remarkable about them. the younger wore a silk gown of a sombre colour, with a short body and straight sleeves, and so narrow that it might be taken for a bag. a silk kerchief covered her shoulders and part of her neck, and her little cap put me strongly in mind of the head-gear of our master-cooks. the whole costume was mean, awkward, and insipid. except a few brilliants in her girdle and her cap, she showed no other trace of that asiatic splendour which is still affected by many other women of this country. it is said that the two co-wives live on the best possible terms with each other. the general seems quite at his ease with respect to them, and goes from the one to the other with the same marks of attention and affection. his first wife is very old, and might be taken for the mother of the second. we were assured that being greatly distressed at having no children, she had herself advised her husband to make a new choice. the general fixed on a very pretty young peasant working on his own property. in order to diminish the great disparity of rank between them, he married her to one of his officers, who, on coming out of church, received orders to depart instantly on a distant mission, from which he never returned. some time afterwards the young woman was installed in the general's brilliant mansion, and presented to all his acquaintance as madame khersanof. two charming daughters are the fruit of this not very orthodox union. dressed in seraphines of blue silk, they performed the russian and the cossack dances with exquisite grace, and enchanted us during the whole continuance of the ball. the russian dance fascinates by its simplicity and poetry, and differs entirely from all other national dances: it consists not so much in the steps, as in a pensive, natural pantomime, in which northern calmness and gravity are tempered by a charming grace and timidity. less impassioned than the dances of spain, it affects the senses with a gentle langour which it is not easy to resist. we met with a frenchman at taganrok, a real hero of romance. at eighteen his adventurous temper impelled him to quit the service to go and play a part in the greek revolution. he participated in all the chances and dangers of the struggle against the turks; and battling sometimes as a guerrillero, sometimes as a seaman, and sometimes as a diplomatist, he was thrown into more or less immediate contact with all those who shed such a lustre on the war of independence. in one of his campaigns he chanced to save the life of a young and pretty smyrniote, whom he lost no time in marrying and bearing far away from the scenes of massacre with which the whole archipelago then abounded. a russian nobleman advised him to repair to moscow, and furnished him with the means. his wife's magnificent greek costume, her youth and beauty, produced an intense sensation in that capital. the whole court, which was then in moscow, was full of interest for the young smyrniote, and the empress even sought to attach her to her person by the most tempting offers. madame de v. refused them, preferring to remain with her husband, whose conduct, however, was far from irreproachable. being young, very handsome, and of an enterprising character, his successes among the muscovite ladies were very numerous; and he was everywhere known by the name of the handsome frenchman. an adventure that made a great deal of noise, and in which a lady of the court had completely compromised her reputation for his sake, obliged him to quit moscow in the midst of his triumphs. he then led his wife from one capital to another, presenting her everywhere as an interesting victim of the greek revolution. after this european tour, he returned to paris, where he passed some years. many eminent artists of that city painted the portrait of his wife, who is still very beautiful. in he left paris and settled in taganrok as a teacher of the french language; and there this poet, traveller, man of the world, and _beau cavalier_ is throwing away almost all his advantages, which are of little service to him in the walk he has chosen, and in a town where there are so few persons capable of appreciating him. our whole colony in taganrok consists of doctor meunier, who acts as consul; m. de v., and a provençal lady, who keeps a boarding-school. this doctor meunier is another original. he passed i know not how many years in the service of the shah of persia, who had a great regard for him, and invested him on his departure with the order of the sun, a magnificent decoration, more brilliant than that of a grand cordon. having shrewdly availed himself of his extensive opportunities for observation, his acquaintance is highly to be prized by all who love to give their imagination free scope: his graphic and marvellous stories are like pages from the arabian nights. in an instant, he sets before his hearers palaces of gold and azure, bewitching almehs, towns ruined to their foundations, towers of human heads, a french milliner superintending the education of persian ladies, princes, beggars, dervishes, unbounded luxury side by side with the most hideous poverty, and all that the east can show to move, allure, or terrify the soul. one of the houses that offer most attractions for foreigners, is that of mr. yeams, brother of the english consul-general of odessa. we found him possessed of all his brother's amiable qualities and perfect tact. when the english can shake off the stiffness with which they are so justly reproached, and their immoderate pride, they are perhaps the most agreeable of all acquaintances. they generally possess strong powers of observation and analysis, large and sound information, genuine dignity of conduct, and above all, a good-humoured kindliness, that is more winning for the pains they take to conceal it. while looking over mr. yeams' english, french, and german library, and the journals of all nations that lie on the tables, it is not easy to believe oneself on the shores of the sea of azov, and on the outskirts of europe. the "journal des débats," the "times," and the "augsburg gazette," put you _au courant_ of the affairs of europe, as though paris and london were not a thousand leagues away from you. it is not to be conceived into what a confusion of ideas one is cast at first, by the sight of a room filled with books, maps, journals, familiar articles of furniture, and people talking french: you ask yourself what is become of the days and nights you have spent in galloping post, the vast extent of sea you have crossed, the leagues of land and water, the regions and the climes you have left between you and your native country. with the advances civilisation is daily making, distances will soon be annulled; for distance to my thinking, consists not in difference of longitude, but in diversity of manners and ideas. i certainly felt myself nearer to france in taganrok than i should have been in certain cantons of switzerland or germany. on the eve of our departure we attended some horse-races, that interested us only by the number and the variety of the spectators. there we began to make acquaintance with the kalmucks, some of whom had come to the fair to sell their horses, the breed of which is in great request throughout the south of russia. there was nothing very captivating in the mongol features and savage appearance of these worshippers of the grand lama; and when i saw the jealous and disdainful looks they cast on those around them, and heard their loud yells whenever a horse passed at full speed before them, i could not help feeling some apprehension at the thought that i should soon have to throw myself on their hospitality. taganrok has the strongest resemblance to a levantine town, so much are its greek and italian inhabitants in a majority over the rest of the population. such was the perpetual hubbub, that we could hardly persuade ourselves we were in russia, where the people usually make as little noise as possible, lest the echo of their voices should reach st. petersburg. the greeks, though subjected to the imperial _régime_, are less circumspect, and retain under the northern sky the vivacity and restless temperament that characterise their race. we particularly admired that day, a number of young greek women, whose black eyes and elegant figures attracted every gaze. a string of carriages was drawn up round part of the race-course, and enabled us to review all the aristocratic families of the town and neighbourhood. the ladies were dressed as for a ball, with short sleeves, their heads uncovered and decked with flowers. a blazing sun and whirlwinds of dust, such as would be thought fabulous in any other country, soon dimmed all this finery, and drove away most of the spectators: we were not the last to seek refuge in the covered alleys of a neighbouring bazaar, where we had ices and delicious water-melons set before us in the armenian café for a few kopeks. footnotes: [ ] a _hectare_ is a little more than two acres. chapter xii. departure from taganrok--sunset in the steppes--a gipsy camp --rostof; a town unparalleled in the empire--navigation of the don--azov; st. dimitri--aspect of the don--nakitchevane, and its armenian colony. as we turned our backs on taganrok, we could easily foresee what we should have to suffer during our journey. a long drought and a temperature of ° had already changed the verdant plains of the don into an arid desert. at times the wind raised such billows of dust around us, that the sky was completely veiled from our eyes; our breath failed us, and the blood boiled in our ears; our sufferings for the moment were horrible. the hot air of a conflagration does not cause a more painful sense of suffocation than that produced by the wind of the desert. the horses could not stand against it, but stopped and hung down their heads, seeming as much distressed as ourselves. as we approached the don the country was not quite such a dead, unbroken flat as before; a few cossack stanitzas began to show themselves among the clumps of trees on the banks of the river. deep gullies lined with foliage, and the traces of several streams, show how agreeable this part of the steppes must be in spring; but at the period of our journey every thing had been dried up and almost calcined by the rays of a sun which no cloud had obscured for two months. before reaching rostof, we passed through a large armenian village. its picturesque position, in the midst of a ravine, and the oriental fashion of its houses, give some interest and variety to these lonely regions, and transiently busy the imagination. the evening promised to be very beautiful; something serene, calm, and melancholy, had succeeded to the enervating heat of the day. sunset in the steppes is like sunset nowhere else. in a country of varied surface, the gradually lengthening shadows give warning long beforehand that the sun is approaching the horizon. but here there is nothing to intercept its rays until the moment it sinks below the line of the steppe; then the night falls with unequalled rapidity; in a few moments all trace is gone of that brilliant luminary that just before was making the whole west ablaze. it is a magnificent transformation, a sudden transition to which the grandeur of the scene adds almost supernatural majesty and strangeness. fatigued by the rapidity with which we had been travelling since we left taganrok, i took advantage of our halt at a post station, not far from the village, to ascend the rising ground that concealed the road from my view. as i have said, the night had come down suddenly, and there remained in the west but a few pale red stripes that were fading away with every second. at the opposite point of the horizon the broad red glowing moon, such as it appears when it issues from the sea, was climbing majestically towards the zenith, and already filled that region of the heavens with a soft and mysterious radiance. the greater part of the steppe was still in gloom, whilst a golden fringe marked the limits of earth and sky: the effect was very singular and splendid. when i reached the summit of the hill an involuntary cry of surprise and alarm escaped me. i remained motionless before the unexpected scene that presented itself to my eyes--a whole gipsy camp, realising one of sir walter scott's most striking fictions. dispersed over the whole surface of the globe, and placed at the bottom of the social scale, this vagrant people forms in russia, as elsewhere, a real tribe of pariahs, whose presence is regarded with disgust, even by the peasants. the government has attempted to settle a colony of these bedouins of europe in bessarabia, but with little success hitherto. true to the traditional usages of their race, the tsigans abhor every thing belonging to agriculture and regular habits. no bond has ever been found strong enough to check that nomade humour they inherit from their forefathers, and which has resisted the rude climate of russia and the despotism of its government. just as in italy and spain, they roam from village to village, plying various trades, stealing horses, poultry, and fruit, telling fortunes, procuring by fraud or entreaty the means of barely keeping themselves alive, and infinitely preferring such a vagabond and lazy existence to the comfort they might easily secure with a moderate amount of labour. their manner of travelling reminds one of the emigrations of barbarous tribes. marching always in numerous bodies, they pass from place to place with all they possess. the women, children, and aged persons, are huddled together in a sort of cart called _pavoshk_, drawn each by one or two small horses with long manes. all their wealth consists of a few coarse brown blankets, which form their tents by night, and in some tools employed in their chief trade, that of farriery. all travellers who have visited russia, speak with enthusiasm of the gipsy singing heard in the moscow _salons_. no race perhaps possesses an aptitude for music in a higher degree than these gipsies. in many other respects too, their intelligence appeared to us remarkable. a long abode in moldavia, where there are said to be more than , tsigans, enabled us to study with facility the curious habits of this people, and to collect a great number of facts, which would not perhaps be without interest for the majority of readers.[ ] the tsigans pass the fine season in travelling from fair to fair, encamping for some weeks in the neighbourhood of the towns, and living, heedless of the future, in thorough asiatic indolence; but when the snows set in, and the northern blasts sweep those vast plains as level as the sea, the condition of these wretched creatures is such, as may well excite the strongest pity. but half clad, cowling in huts sunk below the surface of the ground, and destitute of the commonest necessaries, it is inconceivable how they live through the winter. horrible as such a state of existence must be, they never give it a thought from the moment the breath of the south enables them to resume their vagrant career. recklessness is the predominant feature in their character, and the most frightful sufferings cannot force them to bestow a moment's consideration on the future. the singular apparition that had suddenly arrested my steps by the road side, was that of a troop of gipsies encamped for the night in that lonely spot, about thirty yards from the road, near a field of water-melons. their _pavoshks_ were arranged in a circle, with the shafts turned upwards, and support the cloths of their tents, which could only be entered by creeping on all fours. two large fires burned at a little distance from the tents, and round them sat about fifty persons of the most frightful appearance. their sooty colour, matted hair, wild features, and the rags that scarcely covered them, seen by the capricious light of the flames, that sometimes glared up strongly, and at other moments suddenly sank down and left every thing in darkness, produced a sort of demoniacal spectacle, that recalled to the imagination those sinister scenes of which they have so long been made the heroes. the history of all that is most repulsive in penury and the habits of a vagrant life, was legible in their haggard faces, in the restless expression of their large black eyes, and the sort of voluptuousness with which they grovelled in the dust; one would have said it was their native element, and that they felt themselves born for the mire with all swarming creatures of uncleanness. the women especially appeared hideous to me. covered only with a tattered petticoat, their breasts, arms, and part of their legs bare, their eyes haggard, and their faces almost hidden under their straggling locks, they retained no semblance of their sex, or even of humanity. the faces of some old men struck me, however, by their perfect regularity of features, and by the contrast between their white hair and the olive hue of their skins. all were smoking, men, women, and children. it is a pleasure they esteem almost as much as drinking spirits. what painter's imagination ever conceived a wilder or more fantastic picture! hitherto they had not perceived me, but the noise of our carriage, which was rapidly advancing, and my husband's voice, put them on the alert. the whole gang instantly started to their feet, and i found myself, not without some degree of dread, surrounded by a dozen of perfectly naked children, all bawling to me for alms. some young girls seeing the fright i was in began to sing in so sweet and melodious a manner, that even our cossack seemed affected. we remained a long while listening to them, and admiring the picturesque effect of their encampment in the steppes, under the beautiful and lucid night sky. no thought of serious danger crossed our minds, and, indeed, it would have been quite absurd; but in any other country than russia such an encounter would have been far from agreeable. in the course of the following day we reached rostof, a pretty little town on the don, entirely different in appearance from the other russian towns. you have here none of the cold, monotonous straight lines that afflict the traveller's sight from one end of the empire to the other; but the inequality of the ground, and the wish to keep near the harbour, have obliged the inhabitants to build their houses in an irregular manner, which has a very picturesque effect. the population, too, a mixture of russians, greeks, and cossacks, have in their ways and habits nothing at all analogous to the systematic stiffness and military drill that seem to regulate all the actions of the russians. the influence of a people long free has changed even the character of the chancery _employés_, who are here exempt from that arrogance and self-sufficiency that distinguish the petty nobles of russia. hence society is much more agreeable in rostof than in most of the continental towns. the ridiculous pretensions of _tchin_ (rank) do not there assail you at every step; there is a complete fusion of nationality, tastes, and ideas, to the great advantage of all parties. this secret influence exercised by the cossacks on the russians, is worthy of note, and seems to prove that the defects of the latter are attributable rather to their political system, than to the inherent character of the nation. their natural gaiety, kept down by the secret inquisition of a sovereign power, readily gets the upper hand when opportunity offers. the public functionaries associate freely in rostof, with the cossacks and the greek merchants, without any appearance of the haughty exclusiveness elsewhere conspicuous in their class. one thing that greatly surprised us, and that shows how much liberal ideas are in favour in this town, is the establishment of a sort of casino, where all grades of society assemble on sunday, to dance and hold parties of pleasure. this is without a parallel elsewhere. this casino contains a large ball-room, handsome gardens, billiard and refreshment-rooms, and every thing else that can be desired in an establishment of the sort. though all persons are at liberty to enter without payment, it is nevertheless frequented by the best society, who dance there as heartily as in the most aristocratic _salons_. all distinctions vanish in the casino: public functionaries, shopkeepers, officers' wives, work-girls, foreigners, persons, in short, of all ranks and conditions mingle together, forming an amusing pell-mell, that reminds one, by its unceremonious gaiety, of the _bals champêtres_ of the environs of paris. every thing is a matter of surprise to the traveller in this little town, so remote from all civilisation: the hotels are provided with good restaurants, clean chambers, each furnished with a bed, and all appurtenances complete (a thing unheard of everywhere else in the interior of russia), besides many other things that are hardly to be found even in odessa. rostof is the centre of all the commerce of the interior of the empire, with the sea of azov, and with a large portion of the russian coasts of the black sea. through this town pass all the productions of siberia, and the manufactured goods intended for consumption throughout the greater part of southern russia. these goods are floated down the volga as far as doubofka, in the vicinity of saritzin. they are then carried by land, a distance of about thirty-eight miles to kahilnitzkaia, where they are embarked on the don, and conveyed to rostof, their general _entrepôt_. the barges on the don and the volga are flat; feet long, from twenty to twenty-six wide, and about six feet deep. they draw only two feet of water, and cost from to rubles. they are freighted with timber and firewood, mats, bark, pitch, tar, hemp, cables, and cordage, pig and wrought iron, pieces of artillery, anchors, lead, copper, butter, &c. the whole traffic and navigation of the don, down stream, from kahalnitzkaia, depends on the arrivals from the volga. the barges employed on the latter river, being put together with wooden bolts, are taken asunder at doubofka, and laid with their cargoes in carts, on which they are conveyed to the banks of the don.[ ] seven or eight days are sufficient for this operation, the expense of which amounts nearly to a quarter of the capital employed. thus every year the crown and the merchants spend from , to , , rubles at doubofka. it is reckoned that , pairs of oxen, on an average, are employed on the road connecting the two rivers. the charge for heavy goods is from sixty to sixty-five kopeks the kilogrammes. the vessels that ascend the upper don convey the goods above-named to the government of voronege and the adjoining ones; besides which, some are freighted with the fruits and wines of the don. scarcely any traffic ascends the lower part of the river. the coasting trade of rostof is, therefore, brisk, and particularly so since the establishment of the quarantine at kertch. there were exported from the town, in , for russian ports, more than , , rubles' worth of domestic goods of various kinds, and about , rubles' worth of provisions, chiefly intended for the armies. flax-seed and common wool have also become, within the last three years, rather important articles of export to foreign countries. the population of rostof is about . azov, on the other side of the don, a little below rostof, is now only a large village. its long celebrated fortress has been abandoned, and is falling into ruin. it is said to occupy the site of the ancient tana, built by the greeks of the bosphorus. the fort of saint dimitri, built by peter the great, between rostof and nakhitchevane, has had the same fate as azov. it was formerly destined to protect the country against the incursions of the turks, who were then masters of the opposite bank. the post-road traverses its whole length, and then continues all the way to nakhitchevane, along a raised causeway, and overlooks the whole basin of the river. nothing can be more varied than the wide landscapes through which one travels along this extended ridge. behind lies rostof, with its harbour full of vessels, and its houses rising in terrace rows, one above the other, its greek churches, and its hanging gardens. on the right is the calm and limpid mirror of the river, spreading out into a broad basin, with banks shaded with handsome poplars. fishing-boats, rafts, and barges diversify its surface, and give the most picturesque appearance to this part of the landscape. then in front, nakhitchevane, the elegant armenian town, towers before you, the glazed windows of its great bazaars glittering in the sun. enter the town, and you are surprised by a vision of the east, as you behold the capricious architecture of the buildings, and the handsome asiatic figures that pass before you. impelled by our recollections of constantinople, we visited every quarter of the town without delay. at the sight of the veiled women, trailing their yellow slippers along the ground with inimitable _nonchalance_, the oriental costumes, the long white beards, the merchants sitting on their heels before their shops, and the bazaars filled with the productions of asia, we fancied ourselves really transported to one of the trading quarters of stamboul; the illusion was complete. the shops abound with articles, many of which appeared to us very curious. the armenians are excellent workers in silver. we were shown some remarkably beautiful saddles, intended for caucasian chiefs. one of them covered with blue velvet, adorned with black enamelled silver plates, and with stirrups of massive silver, and a brilliantly adorned bridle, had been ordered for a young circassian princess. here, as in constantinople, each description of goods has its separate bazaar, and the shops are kept by men only. this armenian town, seated on the banks of the don, in the heart of a country occupied by the cossacks, is still one of those singularities which are only to be met with in russia. one cannot help asking what can have been the cause why these children of the east have transplanted themselves into a region, where nothing is in harmony with their manner of being; where the language, habits, and wants of the inhabitants are diametrically opposite to their own, and where nature herself reminds them, by stern tokens, that their presence there is but an accident. it is true that the armenians are essentially cosmopolitan, and accommodate themselves to all climates and governments, when their pecuniary interests require it. industrious, intelligent, and frugal, they thrive everywhere, and commerce springs up with their presence, in every place where they settle. thus it was that nakhitchevane, the town of traffic _par excellence_, to which purchasers resort from the distance of twenty-five leagues all round it, arose amidst the wilderness of the don. it was only armenians who could have effected such a prodigy, and found the means of prosperity in a retail trade. but nothing has escaped their keen sagacity; every source of profit is largely employed by them. they do not confine themselves to the local trade; on the contrary, there is not a fair in all southern russia that is not attended by dealers from nakhitchevane. the supply of dress and arms to the inhabitants of the caucasus, still forms one of the principal branches of commerce for these armenians. they maintain a pretty close correspondence with the mountaineers, and are even accused of serving them as spies. as to their social habits, the armenians are in nakhitchevane what they are everywhere else; they may change their country and their garb, but their manners and their usages never undergo any alteration. their race is like a tree whose trunk is almost destroyed, but which throws up at every point new shoots, invariable in their nature, and differing from each other only in some outward particulars. the colony of nakhitchevane dates from the year , when catherine ii. had the greater part of the armenians of the crimea transported to the banks of the don. the colonists are divided into agriculturists and shopkeepers. the former inhabit five villages, containing a population of ; the others reside exclusively in the town, which is the chief place of their establishment, and contains about souls. these armenians enjoy the same privileges as the greeks of marioupol, already mentioned. they are under the control of functionaries chosen by themselves, and it happens very rarely that they are obliged to have recourse to the russian tribunals. the following was the decision adopted by the council of the empire, in , relatively to the armenians of new russia. "the descendants of the armenians settled at the invitation of the government, in the towns of karasson bazar, starikrim in the crimea, nakhitchevane, and gregorioupol, in the government of kherson, will continue to pay, not the poll-tax, but the land-tax, and that on houses, according to the privileges granted to their fathers by an ukase of october , ; whilst those who have settled since that time, as well as all armenians generally, shall be liable to the poll-tax, in pursuance of an ukase of may , ; in addition to which they shall pay from january , ; viz., townspeople and artisans, seven rubles per house, and agriculturists seventeen and a half kopeks per deciatine of land." footnotes: [ ] as the plan of the present work does not allow of our entering on the subject in this place, we reserve it for our "travels in the principalities of the danube," to be hereafter published. [ ] the construction of a canal or a railroad between the don and the volga has long been talked of. peter i. began a canal, but the works were soon abandoned. a new project was laid before the government in , the expense of which was estimated at , , ., but it remains still to be realised. chapter xiii. general remarks on new russia--antipathy between the muscovites and malorossians--foreign colonies--general aspect of the country, cattle, &c.--want of means of communication --river navigation; bridges--character of the minister of finance--history of the steamboat on the dniestr--the board of roads and ways--anecdote. new russia, which we have now traversed in its whole length, from west to east, consists of the three governments of kherson, taurid, and iekaterinoslav. it is bounded on the north by the governments of podolia, kiev, poltava, and kharkov; on the east by the country of the don cossacks, the sea of azov, and the straits of kertch; on the south by the black sea, and on the west by the dniestr, which divides it from bessarabia. its surface may be estimated at square myriamètres. it contains a population of , , , which makes about inhabitants to a square myriamètre. the existing organisation of the three governments dates from the year . their territory was successively annexed to the empire, by the treaty of koutchouk kainardji, the conquest of the crimea, and the convention concluded at jassy, in . the population of these regions is extremely mixed. the malorossians (little russians) formerly known by the appellation of cossacks of the ukraine, form its principal nucleus; then come numerous villages of muscovites (great russians) belonging to the crown and to individuals; colonies of germans, greeks, armenians, jews, and bulgarians; the military establishments of vosnecensk, formed with the cossacks of the boug and fugitives from all the neighbouring nations; and lastly the tatars, who occupy the greater part of the crimea and the western shores of the sea of azov. here are certainly very various and heterogeneous elements; nor can there exist between them any religious or political sympathy. the muscovites and the malorossians are even very hostile to each other, though professing the same creed and subject to the same laws. in spite of all the efforts of the government, and notwithstanding all the muscovite colonies disseminated through the country, no blending of the two races has yet been effected. the old ideas of independence of the cossacks of the ukraine, are very far from being entirely extinguished, and the malorossians, who have not forgotten the liberty and the privileges they enjoyed down to the end of the last century, always bear in mind that serfdom was established amongst them only by an imperial ukase of catherine ii. when the emperor alexander travelled through the crimea, in , it is said that he received more than , petitions from peasants claiming their freedom. two years afterwards an insurrection broke out at martinofka, in the environs of taganrok; but it was speedily put down, and led to nothing but the transportation of some hundreds of unhappy serfs to siberia. as for the foreign colonies established in new russia, the government adapted its regulations at first in strict accordance with their wants. each of them possessed a constitution in harmony with its manners, its usages, and its state of civilisation, and nothing had been neglected that could prompt the development of their prosperity. but within the last few years, the principles of political unity have been gaining the upper hand, and all the government measures are tending to assimilate the foreign populations to the free peasants of the crown. it is with this view that the special administrative committees have been suppressed, and the ministry of the domains of the crown has been created. undoubtedly, as we have already said, when speaking of the german colonies, russia has an incontestible right to strive to render herself homogeneous; the interests of her policy and her nationality require that she should neglect no means of arriving at a uniform administrative system. unfortunately, generalisations are still impossible in the empire. where there are so many conflicting forms of civilisation, the attempt to impose one unvarying system of rule upon so many dissimilar peoples, cannot be unattended with danger, particularly when that system is an exclusive one, and belongs only to one of the least enlightened portions of the population. it is, at this day, quite as impolitic to apply to the german colonists the administrative system practised with the russian peasants, as it would be absurd to govern the latter like the germans. the government would act more wisely if it tried, in the first place, to raise its native subjects to the level of the foreigners, instead of depressing the latter by subjecting them to the same conditions as its , , of serfs. the difficulties would no doubt be great; but obstinately to persist in establishing a forced administrative unity by dint of ukases, is nothing short of ruin to those thriving and industrious foreign colonies, which for more than half a century have done so much for the prosperity of the country, by bringing the soil of southern russia into productive cultivation; and it is well known, that already, several hundred families have abandoned their settlements and returned to germany. the whole of southern russia from the banks of the dniestr to the sea of azov, and to the foot of the mountains of the crimea, consists exclusively of vast plains called steppes, elevated from forty to fifty yards above the level of the sea. the soil is completely bare of forests; it is only in some sheltered localities along the banks of the dniepr and the other rivers, and in their islands, that we find a few woods of oak, birch, aspen, and willow. the inhabitants of the country are obliged to use for firing, reeds, straw, and the dung of cattle kneaded into little masses like bricks. in odessa, they import wood from bessarabia, the crimea, and the banks of the danube; but it costs as much as eighty rubles the fathom. english coal is also consumed, and as the merchant vessels carry it as ballast, its cost is very moderate. within the last few years the native coal from the government of iekaterinoslav and the don country, is also beginning to be used throughout southern russia. the growth of wheat and the rearing of cattle, chiefly merino sheep, are the main sources of wealth in these regions. the best cultivated tracts are, in the first place, those occupied by the german colonies, and next, the environs of podolia and khivia. but the most productive soil is, unquestionably, that of the north-east of the government of iekaterinoslav, where the surface of the country is more varied and better irrigated. unfortunately, the inhabitants have scarcely any markets for their produce. the grand want of this part of the empire is, the means of transport. within the sixty years or thereabouts, during which the russians have been in possession of these regions, they have founded many towns and erected many edifices to accommodate the public functionaries; but they have completely forgotten the most important thing, the thing without which agriculture and trade can make no progress worth speaking of. there are no causeways anywhere; the roads are mere tracks marked out by two ditches a few inches deep, and a line of posts set up from verst to verst to mark the distance. but usually no account is made of the imperial track, and the wheel-ruts vary laterally over a space of half a league and more. with every fall of rain the course of the road is changed. in winter, when snow-storms and fogs prevail, travelling in new russia is beset with serious perils. it is then so easy to wander from the route, that travellers are often in danger of losing themselves in the steppes, and dying of cold. bridges over the streams and rivers are as rare as causeways, and where any exist they are so defective, that drivers always try to avoid them, and so save their vehicles from the chance of being broken. whenever the traveller is suddenly roused up from a sound sleep by a violent shock, he may be certain he is passing over a bridge or a fragment of a causeway. spring and autumn are the seasons when he has most reason to curse the bad management of the board of bridges and roads, for then the roads are impracticable: the smallest gully becomes the bed of a torrent, and communications are often totally interrupted. the consequence is that the transport of goods can only be effected in winter and during four months of summer. nor must we allow ourselves to imagine that sledging is a very safe mode of carriage; the snow-storms cause great disasters, and if the winter be at all rigorous, an enormous number of draught oxen are lost. every one knows what fine rivers nature has bestowed on new russia. the dniestr and the dniepr are two admirable canals, which, after having traversed the central parts of the empire and its most fertile regions, terminate in the black sea. their navigation, if well managed, would certainly compensate largely for the difficulties in the way of constructing roads, and might amply suffice for the wants of the population. but, as we have said in our chapter on the commerce of the black sea, every thing in russia bears deplorable proof of the supineness of the government. it must, however, be owned that it is not to be reproached in every case with want of the will to do better; for recently, upon the enlightened solicitation of count voronzof, it was determined to establish on the donetz, one of the confluents of the don, a steam-tug to take in tow the coal-barges of the government of iekaterinoslav. the two grand obstacles which, in our opinion, impede the accomplishment of useful works in russia, consist in the self-sufficient incapacity of the ministry of finance, and in the peculation of the functionaries. count cancrine[ ] may be an excellent bookkeeper; we grant that he possesses no ordinary talent in matters of account; but we believe, and facts demonstrate it, that his administration has greatly diminished the financial resources of the empire. the man possesses not one enlarged idea, no forecast; he sacrifices every thing to the present moment. every item of expenditure must bring in an immediate profit, or he looks on it as money mis-spent; he can never be brought to understand that all capital expended in promoting agriculture and trade, returns sooner or later to the exchequer with large interest. in , a landowner, deeply interested in the navigation of the liman of the dniestr, after many fruitless efforts, at last succeeded by stratagem in inducing him to establish a small steamer on those waters, in order to facilitate the commercial intercourse between akermann and ovidiopol. the salt works of touzla, situated in the vicinity, were to advance the necessary funds to the directory of the steamer, and although that directory was entirely dependent on the government, it was, nevertheless, obliged to enter into an engagement for the repayment of the small sum advanced, within a specified time. the steamboat was set plying; but whether from mismanagement or from other causes, no profit was realised in the first few years; on the contrary, there was some loss. angry expostulations on the part of the ministry soon followed; and for a while there was an intention of suppressing the new means of communication, though so highly important to both banks. such is the behaviour of the ministry on all industrial or commercial questions. we shall have many other facts of the same kind to mention, when we come to speak of bessarabia and the crimea. now for an anecdote exemplifying the proceedings of the board of roads and ways.[ ] it was proposed by count voronzof in , to have a bridge constructed over a brook that crosses the road from ovidiopol to odessa, and which is twice every year converted into a torrent. the chief engineer of the district having estimated the expense at , rubles, the scheme was discountenanced by the ministry, and the bridge remained unbuilt for four years. in , count voronzof visited bessarabia, and his carriage was near being overturned on the little old bridge by which the brook is crossed. "it is very much to be regretted," said he to m----i, who accompanied him, "that there is not a suitable bridge here; the ministry would not, perhaps, have refused to sanction it, if the engineers had been more moderate in their demands." some days afterwards m----i sent for an italian engineer, and put into his hands a statement of all the measurements on which the government engineers had founded their estimate. the italian asked at first rubles, and finally reduced his demand to . m----i hastened to lay his proposal before count voronzof, who was amazed, and instantly accepted the terms. the bridge was to be forthwith constructed. it was not long before the chief engineer visited m----i, and beset him with reproaches and remonstrances, to which the former replied thus: "my good sir, i have not slandered you, nor do i bear you the least enmity. i wanted a bridge that i might visit my estate without danger. it is not enough to have a steamer on the liman of the dniestr, unless one has also the means of making use of it. your demand for the execution of the works was , rubles; another person, who has no desire to lose by the job, is content to perform it for . i am sorry you think he has asked too little. be that as it may, i shall have the bridge, and that was a thing i had set my mind on. excuse me this once." we see by this, with what difficulty useful improvements are effected in russia. the most earnest and laudable purposes are constantly frustrated by the vices of the administrative system. unhappily there never can be an end to the fatal influence and the tyranny everywhere exercised by the public functionaries, until a radical reform shall have taken place in the social institutions of the empire; but nothing indicates as yet that there is any serious intention of effecting such a system. footnotes: [ ] see appendix, p. . [ ] it is needless to say that our remarks do not apply to all the russian engineers without exception, for we ourselves have known many upright and worthy men amongst them; and these men were the more deserving of esteem, as they always ended by being the victims of their own integrity. appendix to chapter xiii. "count cancrine was the only statesman in russia who possessed some share of learning and general information, though somewhat deficient in the knowledge specially applicable to his own department. he was a very good bookkeeper; but chemistry, mechanics, and technology were quite unknown to him. his sense of duty overbore all feelings of german nationality; he really desired the good of russia, while at the same time he did not neglect his own affairs, for the care of which his post afforded him peculiar facilities. colbert's fortune was made matter of reproach to him; a similar reproach may be fairly made against m. cancrine, even though he leaves to his children the care of expending his wealth. he has amassed a yearly income of , rubles. 'it will all go,' he says, 'my children will take care of that.' "he was the most ardent partisan both of the prohibitive and of the industrial system; and the feverish development he gave to manufactures does not redeem the distress of agriculture to which he denied his solicitude. a true russian would never have fallen into this error, but would have comprehended that russia is pre-eminently an agricultural country. the question of serfdom found this minister's knowledge at fault. his monetary measures were but gropings in the dark, with many an awkward fall, and sometimes a lucky hit. he deserves credit, however, for having opposed the emperor's wasteful profusion, with a perseverance which the tsar called wrongheadedness, though he did not venture to break with him. it was mazarine's merit that he gave colbert to louis xiv. in appointing m. vrontshenko as his successor, count cancrine has rendered a very ill service to russia."--_ivan golovine, russia under nicholas i._ chapter xiv. the different conditions of men in russia--the nobles-- discontent of the old aristocracy--the merchant class-- serfdom. the russian nation is divided into two classes: the aristocracy, who enjoy all the privileges; and the people who bear all the burdens of the state. we must not, however, form to ourselves an idea of the russian nobility at all similar to those we entertain of the aristocracies of germany, or of ante-revolutionary france. in russia, nobility is not exclusively conferred by birth, as in the other countries of europe. there every freeman may become noble by serving the state either in a military or a civil capacity; with this difference only, that the son of a nobleman is advanced one step shortly after he enters the service, whilst the son of a commoner must wait twelve years for his first promotion, unless he have an opportunity of distinguishing himself in the meanwhile. such opportunities indeed are easily found by all who have the inclination and the means to purchase them. the first important modifications in the constitution of the noblesse were anterior to peter the great; and feodor alexievitch, by burning the charters of the aristocracy, made the first attempt towards destroying the distinction which the boyars wanted to establish between the great and the petty nobles. it is a curious fact, that at the accession of the latter monarch to the throne, most offices of state were hereditary in russia, and it was not an uncommon thing to forego the services of a man who would have made an excellent general, merely because his ancestors had not filled that high post, which men of no military talent obtained by right of birth. frequent mention has of late been made of the celebrated phrase, _the boyars have been of opinion and the tzar has ordained_, and it has been made the theme of violent accusations against the usurpation of the muscovite sovereigns. but historical facts demonstrate that the supposed power of the nobility was always illusory, and that the so much vaunted and regretted institution served, in reality, only to relieve the tzars from all personal responsibility. the spirit of resistance, whatever may be said to the contrary, was never a characteristic of the russian nobility. no doubt there have been frequent conspiracies in russia; but they have always been directed against the life of the reigning sovereign, and never in any respect against existing institutions. the facility with which christianity was introduced into the country, affords a striking proof of the blind servility of the russian people. vladimir caused proclamation to be made one day in the town of kiev, that all the inhabitants were to repair next day to the banks of the dniepr and receive baptism; and accordingly at the appointed hour on the morrow, without the least tumult or show of force, all the inhabitants of kiev were christians. the existing institutions of the russian noblesse date from the reign of peter the great. the innovation of that sovereign excited violent dissatisfaction, and the nobles, not yet broken into the yoke they now bear, caused their monarch much serious uneasiness. the means which appeared to peter i. best adapted for cramping the old aristocracy, was to throw open the field of honours to all his subjects who were not serfs. but in order to avoid too rudely shocking established prejudices, he made a difference between nobles and commoners as to the period of service, entitling them respectively to obtain that first step which was to place them both on the same level. having then established the gradations of rank and the conditions of promotion, and desirous of ratifying his institutions by his example, he feigned submission to them in his own person, and passed successively through all the steps of the scale he had appointed. the rank of officer in the military service makes the holder a gentleman in blood, that is, confers hereditary nobility; but in the civil service, this quality is only personal up to the rank of college assessor, which corresponds to that of major. the individual once admitted into the fourteenth or lowest class, becomes noble, and enjoys all the privileges of nobility as much as a count of the empire, with this exception only, that he cannot have slaves of his own before he has attained the grade of college assessor, unless he be noble born. it results from this system that consideration is attached in russia, not to birth, but merely to the grade occupied. as promotion from one rank to another is obtained after a period of service, specified by the statutes, or sooner through private interest, there is no college registrar (fourteenth class) whatever be his parentage, but may aspire to attain precedence over the first families in the empire; and the examples of these elevations are not rare. it must be owned, however, that the old families have more chance of advancement than the others: but they owe this advantage to their wealth rather than to their personal influence. with all the apparent liberality of this scheme of nobility, it has, nevertheless, proved admirably subservient to the policy of the muscovite sovereigns. the old aristocracy has lost every kind of influence, and its great families, most of them resident in moscow, can now only protest by their inaction and their absence from court, against the state of insignificance to which they have been reduced, and from which they have no chance of recovery. had it been necessary for all aspirants to nobility to pass through the wretched condition of the common soldier, it is evident that the empire would not possess one-tenth of its present number of nobles. notwithstanding their abject and servile condition, very few commoners would have the courage to ennoble themselves by undergoing such a novitiate, with the stick hanging over them for many years. but they have the alternative of the civil service, which leads to the same result by a less thorny path, and offers even comparatively many more advantages to them than to the nobles by blood. whereas the latter, on entering the military service, only appear for a brief while for form's sake in the ranks, become non-commissioned officers immediately, and officers in a few months; they are compelled in the civil service to act for two or three years as supernumeraries in some public office before being promoted to the first grade. it is true, the preliminary term of service is fixed for commoners at twelve years, but we have already spoken of the facilities they possess for abridging this apprenticeship. but this excessive facility for obtaining the privileges of nobility has given rise to a subaltern aristocracy, the most insupportable and oppressive imaginable; and has enormously multiplied the number of _employés_ in the various departments. every russian, not a serf, takes service as a matter of course, were it only to obtain rank in the fourteenth class; for otherwise he would fall back almost into the condition of the slaves, would be virtually unprotected, and would be exposed to the continual vexations of the nobility and the public functionaries. hence, many individuals gladly accept a salary of sixty francs a year, for the permission of acting as clerks in some department; and so it comes to pass that the subaltern _employés_ are obliged to rob for the means of subsistence. this is one of the chief causes of the venality and of the defective condition of the russian administrative departments. peter the great's regulations were excellent no doubt in the beginning, and hardly could that sovereign have devised a more efficacious means of mastering the nobility, and prostrating them at his feet. but now that the intended result has been amply obtained, these institutions require to be modified; for, under the greatly altered circumstances of the country, they only serve to augment beyond measure the numbers of a pernicious bureaucracy, and to impede the development of the middle class. to obtain admission into the fourteenth class, and become a noble, is the sole ambition of a priest's or merchant's son, an ambition fully justified by the unhappy condition of all but the privileged orders. there is no country in which persons engaged in trade are held in lower esteem than in russia. they are daily subjected to the insults of the lowest clerks, and it is only by dint of bribery they can obtain the smallest act of justice. how often have i seen in the post stations, unfortunate merchants, who had been waiting for forty-eight hours and more, for the good pleasure of the clerk, without daring to complain. it mattered nothing that their papers were quite regular, the noble of the fourteenth class did not care for that, nor would he give them horses until he had squeezed a good sum out of the _particularnii tchelovieks_, as he called them in his aristocratic pride. the same annoyances await the foreigner, who, on the strength of his passport, undertakes a journey without a decoration at his buttonhole, or any title to give him importance. i speak from experience: for more than two years spent in traversing russia as a private individual, enabled me fully to appreciate the obliging disposition of the fourteenth class nobles. at a later period, being employed on a scientific mission by the government, i held successively the rank of major, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel; and then i had nothing to complain of; the posting-clerks, and the other _employés_ received me with all the politeness imaginable. i never had to wait for horses, and as the title with which i was decked authorised me to distribute a few cuts of the whip with impunity, my orders were fulfilled with quite magical promptitude. under such a system, the aristocracy would increase without end in a free country. but it is not so in russia, where the number of those who can arrive at a grade is extremely limited, the vast majority of the population being slaves. thus the hereditary and personal nobility comprise no more than , males; though all free-born russians enter the military or civil service, and remain at their posts as long as possible; for once they have returned into private life they sink into mere oblivion. from the moment he has put on plain clothes, the most deserving functionary is exposed to the vexations of the lowest subalterns, who then omit no opportunity of lording over their former superior. such social institutions have fatally contributed to excite a most decided antipathy between the old and the new aristocracy; and the emperor naturally accords his preference and his favours to those who owe him every thing, and from whom he has nothing to fear. in this way the new nobles have insensibly supplanted the old boyars. but their places and pecuniary gains naturally attach them to the established government, and consequently they are quite devoid of all revolutionary tendencies. equally disliked by the old aristocracy whom they have supplanted, and by the peasants whom they oppress, they are, moreover, too few in numbers to be able to act by themselves; and, in addition to this, the high importance attached to the distinctions of rank, prevent all real union or sympathy between the members of this branch of russian society. the tzar, who perfectly understands the character of this body, is fully aware of its venality and corruption; and if he honours it with his special favour, this is only because he finds in it a more absolute and blind submission than in the old aristocracy, whose ambitious yearnings after their ancient prerogatives cannot but be at variance with the imperial will. as for any revolutions which could possibly arise out of the discontent of this latter order, we may be assured they will never be directed against the political and moral system of the country; they will always be, as they have always been, aimed solely against the individual at the head of the government. conspiracies of this kind are the only ones now possible in russia; and what proves this fact is, the impotence of that resentment the tzars have provoked on the part of the old aristocracy, whenever they have touched on the question of emancipating the serfs. the tzars have shown no less dexterity than the kings of france in their struggles against the aristocracy, and they have been much more favoured by circumstances. we see the russian sovereigns bent, like louis xi., on prostrating the great feudatories of the realm; but there was this difference between their respective tasks, that the french nobles could bring armies into the field, and often did so, whereas the russian nobles can only counteract the power of their ruler by secret conspiracies, and will never succeed in stirring up their peasants against the imperial authority. what may we conclude are the destinies in store for the russian nobility, and what part will it play in the future history of the country? it seems to us to possess little inherent vigour and vitality, and we doubt that a radical regeneration of the empire is ever to be expected at its hands. the influence of europe has been fatal to it. it has sought to assimilate itself too rapidly with our modern civilisation, and to place itself too suddenly on a level with the nations of the west. its efforts have necessarily produced only corruption and demoralisation, which, by bastardising the country, have deprived it of whatever natural strength it once possessed. no doubt there are in russia as elsewhere, men of noble and patriotic sentiments, who feel a lively interest in the greatness and the future destinies of their native land; but they are, perhaps, committed to an erroneous course; and it is to be feared that by adopting our liberal principles in their full extent, and seeking to apply them at home, they will do still more mischief than the obstinate conservatives who suffer themselves to be borne along passively by the current of time and circumstances. hence, after having studied the influence of european civilisation on russia, we are fully prepared to understand the efforts which the emperor nicholas is making to isolate his empire as much as possible, and to restore its primitive nationality. despairing of the destinies of his aristocracy, he, no doubt, wishes to preserve the middle class (whose development will infallibly be effected sooner or later) from the rock on which the former class have made shipwreck of their hopes. and certainly it is not among a few thousand nobles he can hope to find sufficient elements of greatness and prosperity for the present and for future times. after the nobles come the merchants and burghers, about a million and a half in number, and now constituting the first nucleus of a middle class. they are wholly engrossed with commerce and their pecuniary interests. among them there are some very wealthy men, and they are allowed to discharge the inoffensive functions of mayors in the towns. the nobility profess almost as much contempt for this class as for the slaves, and are not sparing towards it of injustice and extortion. but the russian merchant is the calmest and most patient being imaginable, and in comparison with slavery and the sad condition of the soldier, he regards his own lot as the very ideal of good fortune. down to the reign of ivan iv., merchants enjoyed tolerably extensive privileges in russia. they were, it is true, placed below the lowest class of the nobility, just as in our days; but they were considered as a constituent part of the government, were summoned to the great assemblies of the nation, and voted in them like the boyars. the emperor nicholas has sought of late years to raise their body in public estimation, by granting them many prerogatives of nobility; but his efforts have hitherto not been very successful. the only means of giving outward respectability to this important class, would be to afford it admission into the body of the nobles without compelling it to enter the government service. and surely an individual who contributes to develop the trade and commerce of the land, has as strong claims to honorary distinctions as a petty clerk, whose whole life is passed in cheating his superiors, and robbing those who are so unfortunate as to have any dealings with him. should the emperor ever adopt such a course, there would follow from it another advantage still more important, namely, that it would gradually extinguish the abuses of the present nobiliary system, and would immediately rid the public departments of all those useless underlings, who now encumber the various offices solely with a view to acquire a footing among the privileged orders. the russian and foreign merchants, established in the country, are divided into three classes, or guilds. those of the first guild must give proof of possessing a capital of , rubles. they have a right to own manufactories, town and country houses, and gardens. they may trade with the interior of the empire, and with foreign countries; they are exempt from corporal punishments, and are privileged like the hereditary nobility to drive four horses in their carriages; but they must pay rubles for their licence. those of the second guild are required to prove only a capital of , rubles, and their trade is confined to the interior of the empire. they may be proprietors of factories, hotels and boats; but they are not allowed to have more than two horses to their carriages. the third guild merchants, whose capital needs not exceed rubles, are the retail dealers of the towns and villages, they keep inns and workshops, and hold booths in the fairs. the peasants who engage in trade, are not required to prove any capital. the statistics of these several classes, in , were as follows:-- first guild merchants second " , third " , peasants having permission to trade , clerks , ------ total , the slaves form by far the most considerable part of the population; their numbers, exclusive of those belonging to the crown and to private proprietors, exceed , , ; an enormous amount in comparison with the numbers of the nobles. we will not enter into any historical details respecting the origin of serfdom in russia; every one knows that the institution is one of somewhat modern date, and that servitude, though long existing virtually, was established legally in the empire only by an ukase of boris godounof. we will confine our remarks to the institution as it exists at the present day. the slaves are divided into two classes, those belonging respectively to the crown, and to private individuals. the former are under the control of the ministry of the domains of the crown, a special board created january st, , and presided over by general count kizelev. by law they are required to pay to the crown a capitation tax of fifteen rubles yearly for every male, but this tax is almost always raised to thirty or thirty-five rubles by the rapacity of the government servants. besides these money contributions, they are subjected to _corvées_ for the repair of the roads and public works, and they may also be required to furnish means of conveyance and food for the troops. for these latter services, it is true, they receive a nominal compensation in the shape of orders payable by treasury, but these are never cashed. lastly, they are liable to military recruitment, which of late years has annually taken off six out of every male inhabitants in the governments of new russia. in exchange for all these burdens, the peasant receives from the crown the land necessary for his subsistence, the quantity of which varies from ten or eleven deciatines, to one or two, according to the density of the population. whatever may have been said on the subject, the condition of the crown serf is neither miserable nor destitute, and his slavery cannot but be favourable to physical and animal life, the only life as yet understood by the bulk of the russian people. except in years of great dearth, such as often desolate the country, the peasant has his means of existence secured; his dwelling, his cattle, and his little field of buckwheat; and as far as freedom from moral and physical sufferings constitute happiness, he may be considered much better off than the free peasants of the other european states. with plenty of food, his dwelling well warmed in winter, his mind disencumbered of all those anxieties for the future that harass our labouring poor; and endowed by nature with a vigorous constitution, he possesses all the elements of that negative happiness which is founded on ignorance and the want of all awakened sense of man's dignity. the slave besides is so frugal, he needs so little to live, his wants and desires are so circumscribed, that poverty, as it exists in our civilised lands, is one of the rarest exceptions in russia. but all these conditions of existence constitute a life essentially brutish; and the most wretched being in france would certainly not exchange his lot for that of the muscovite peasant. it cannot, however, be questioned that the crown serfs enjoy almost complete liberty. simply attached to the soil, they are masters of their own time, and may even obtain permission to go and seek employment in the towns, or on the estates of private landowners. hence, were it not for the difficulties connected with the emancipation of the private serfs, the crown peasants might be declared independent to-morrow, without any sort of danger to the empire. their physical condition is in perfect harmony with the present state of civilisation, and in this respect the system established by the crown, does not deserve the outcry raised against it. the penury and distress in which the imperial serfs are plunged in some districts, are ascribable solely to the cupidity and corruption of the public functionaries, or to the want of outlets for the produce of the soil, and not to the laws regulating serfdom. the condition of the slaves on seignorial lands is both morally and physically less satisfactory than that of the crown serfs. they are subject to arbitrary caprice, and to countless vexations, particularly when they belong to small proprietors, or are immediately dependant on stewards. there exist, indeed, very strict regulations for their protection against the undue exactions of their lords; but the latter are, nevertheless, all-powerful through their social position and the posts they fill, and however they may abuse their authority, they are always sure of impunity. thanks to judicial venality, they know that all appeals to justice against them are futile. there is only one case in which the peasant can hope for a favourable hearing, namely, where there is any ill-will between his master and the higher powers; but his wrongs must be very cruel indeed if they goad him to seek legal redress, for he well knows that sooner or later he will be made to pay dearly for his rebellion. we are bound, however, to acknowledge that the lords often act with the greatest humanity towards the serfs, and they have at last come to understand that in caring for the welfare of their peasants, they are taking the best means to augment their own fortunes. it is only to be regretted that their benevolent efforts are almost constantly paralysed by the rapine and insatiable cupidity of their stewards and agents. the private slaves, who number about , , , pay a poll tax of eight rubles for every male to the crown, and must give half their time to their masters. they usually work three days in the week for the latter, and the other three for themselves. their lord grants them five or six hectares of land, and often more, and all the produce they raise from them is their own. they are required furthermore to supply out of their numbers all the domestic servants requisite for their master's establishment, and to do extra duty labour of various kinds, dependent solely on the caprice of the latter. a peasant cannot quit his village without his master's permission, and if he exercises any handicraft trade whatever, he is bound to pay an annual sum proportioned to his presumed profits. this sum is called his _obrok_, and is often very considerable; in the case of agricultural and other peasants, it averages fifty rubles. but whatever be the position the serf may have attained to by his talents and his skill, he never shakes off his absolute dependence on his master, one word from whom may compel him to abandon all his business and his prospects, and return to his village. many of the wealthiest merchants of moscow have been named to me, who are slaves by birth, and who have in vain offered hundreds of thousands of rubles for their freedom. it flatters the pride of the great patrician families to have men of merit among their serfs, and many of them send young slaves into the towns, and supply them with all the means necessary for pursuing a creditable and lucrative calling. all the hawkers and pedlars that go from village to village, and from mansion to mansion, from the banks of the neva to the extremity of siberia, are slaves, who bring in large profits to their masters; it frequently happens that a _pometchik_ has no other income than that which he thus derives from his peasants. marriages between serfs can only take place with the consent of the lord. they are usually consummated at a very early age, and are arranged by the steward, who never consults the parties, and whose sole object is to effect a rapid increase in the population of his village. the average price of a whole family is estimated as ranging from _l._ to _l._ a great deal has been often said of the boundless attachment of the serfs to their lords; i doubt that it ever existed; at any rate, it exists no longer. the slaves no longer regard with the same resignation and apathy the low estate which providence has assigned them in this world; the more liberal treatment enjoyed by the imperial serfs, has inoculated them with ideas of independence, and they are all now ambitious of passing into the domain of the crown--a good fortune, which in their eyes is equivalent to emancipation. this tendency of the serfs to detach themselves from the aristocracy is a most important fact, and if the emperor succeeds in regulating this great social movement so that it may be effected without turbulence, he will have rendered a signal service to russia, and have mightily contributed to the regeneration and future welfare of her people. every village has its mayor, called _golova_, and its _starosts_, whose number depends on that of the population, there being usually one for every ten families. they are all elected by the community, and to them it belongs to regulate the various labours performed by it, and to apportion and collect the taxes. whatever petty differences may arise between the peasants, are settled before the _starosts_ or council of elders, whose decisions are always received with blind submission. military service is the only _corvée_ which the russian peasants regard with real horror. their antipathy to it is universal, and the regiments can only be recruited by main force. there is no conscription in russia, but whenever men are wanted, an imperial ukase is issued, commanding a certain number to be raised in such or such a government. in the crown lands, it is the head man of the village aided by the district authorities, who selects the future heroes, and this is usually done in secret, in order to prevent desertion. the young men chosen are forthwith arrested, generally in the middle of the night, and remain fettered until they have been inspected by the surgeon, after which they are sent off in small detachments to the regiments, under the guard of armed soldiers. in the seignorial villages, the selection is made by the steward. but the business is here of more difficult execution than in the domains of the crown, and the unfortunate recruit is often chained to an aged peasant, who acts as his keeper, and cannot quit him day or night. i saw two young peasants thus chained to two old men, in a village belonging to general papof; they spent their time quietly in drinking in the dram-shops, without exciting any surprise in the spectators. when we reflect on the privations and sufferings that await the muscovite soldier, we cannot wonder at the intense repugnance the peasants entertain for the service. the military spirit, so potent elsewhere, scarcely exists in the empire. glory and honour are things for which the russian serfs care very little, nor have they any conception of the magic that lies in the words "our country," "our native land." the only country they know is their village, their stove, their _kasha_, the patch of ground they daily cultivate, and that mud which a french grenadier lifted up with his foot, exclaiming, "and this they call a country!" "_ils appellent cela une patrie!_" at the same time, it is evident that this antipathy of the russians for military service, is to be attributed as much to the political constitution of the empire, as to the character of the inhabitants; and as that constitution has hitherto been a national necessity, it would be unjust to charge as a crime upon the government, the unhappy moral condition of its armies. we shall speak at more length in another place, on the subject of the russian soldiery. moral and intellectual instruction have hitherto made very little way among the slave population. attempts indeed have been made to found schools in some of the crown villages, but these attempts have been always ill-directed, and necessarily unsuccessful. religion which everywhere else constitutes the most potent instrument of civilisation, can have in russia no favourable effect on the improvement of the people. consisting solely in fasts, crossings, and outward ceremonies, it leaves the mind totally uninfluenced, and in no respect acts as a bar to the demoralisation which is gradually pervading the immense class of the serfs. the peculiar circumstances of the russian towns and villages are also perhaps among the greatest obstacles to intellectual progress. the advance of civilisation depends in a great measure on facility of intercourse. when a population is compact, and its several members are continually in presence of each other, each man's knowledge is propagated among his compatriots, facts and opinions are discussed, and men become mutually enlightened as to what is thought and done around them. from this continual interchange of mental wealth, there naturally arises an amount of enlightenment and capacity that tends greatly to extend the domain of thought. but let any one cast his eyes on russia, and he will be struck by the unfavourable manner in which its population is distributed. not only are the great centres of population very thinly scattered over the surface, but the several dwellings too in the towns are placed very wide apart, and those of the villages still more so. every man is isolated, every man lives by and for himself, or at least within a very contracted sphere. social meetings are rare, and in winter almost impossible; in a word, it is not at all unusual for people not to know their neighbours on the opposite side of the street; hence the invariable _nesnai_ (i do not know) with which the russian replies to every question the traveller puts to him, ought not to astonish or incense the latter. at first i was disposed to think this ignorance was pretended, and to attribute it to sulkiness and indolence; but i afterwards perceived that it was occasioned in much greater measure by the absurd style of building adopted in the country. another thing that tends to enervate the russians and keep them in their brutified condition, is the immoderate use of brandy, to which both men and women are addicted. it is truly deplorable that the government feels constrained to favour the sale of that pernicious liquor which forms its most important source of revenue. how often have i seen the dram-shops full of women dead drunk, who had left their poultry yards tenantless, and sold their household furniture to gratify their fatal passion. a thing by which i have always been much struck in russia, is the stationary uniformity which prevails over the whole surface of the empire, both in ideas and in physical productions. you see everywhere the same plans and arrangements of the buildings, the same implements, and the same agricultural practices and modes of carriage. contact with foreigners has as yet had no influence on the sclavonic population, and the prosperity generally enjoyed for sixty years by the german colonies has done little in the way of example. is this intellectual insensibility the result of servitude exclusively? i think not. servitude may indeed repress, but it cannot extinguish, the various qualities with which nature has endowed us; and if the russians are still so backward, and give so little promise of improvement, we must explain the fact by the nature of their race, by their still infant state as a nation, and their want of precedents in civilisation. at the same time there is no reason to despair of them. in our opinion, the future civilisation of russia rests in a great measure on the contingency of a religious reformation; but as that reformation could not but be hazardous to absolute power by awakening ideas of independence and resistance to oppression, the government impedes it by every means in its power, and labours unceasingly to reduce all the inhabitants of the empire to religious uniformity, as is proved by its conduct towards the united greeks of poland, and towards the douckoboren and the molokaner. i had opportunities of observing among the members of the two latter communities, how great an influence a change of religion may have on the character and intellect of the russians. the douckoboren and the molokaner differ essentially in this respect from the other subjects of the empire. activity, probity, intelligence, desire of improvement, all these qualities are developed among them to the highest degree, and after having consorted with the germans for fifteen years, they have completely appropriated all the agricultural ameliorations, and even the social habits of those foreign colonists. among the russian peasants on the contrary, whether slave or free, a complete immobility prevails, and nothing can force them out of the old inevitable rut. all the efforts and all the encouragements of the government have hitherto been of no avail. the emancipation of the slaves seems earnestly to occupy the emperor nicholas; and the measures adopted of late years testify in favour of his generous intentions. unfortunately, the task is beset with difficulties for the legislator, and an abrupt attempt to make the russian people independent, would infallibly expose the empire to the greatest dangers. there are in the russian slave two natures, essentially distinct: the one, destitute of all energy, of all vitality, is the result of the servitude under which the nation has bent for ages; the other, a bequest of barbarism, starting into action at the breath of liberty, is prompt to the most alarming excesses, and inspires the revolted serf with the desire, above all things, to massacre his master. emancipation, therefore, is not so easy as certain philanthropists would believe it to be, and the details we have just given may enable one to conceive all the mischiefs that might ensue from it. the greatest obstacle to this social metamorphosis is presented by the private slaves, the majority of whom belong to the hereditary aristocracy; it is especially on the part of this class that premature liberty might occasion fatal and bloody reactions, which would endanger the empire itself, though immediately directed against the lords only. accordingly the tzar, who is not ignorant of these facts, does all in his power to withdraw the serfs from their proprietors, and bring them into the crown domain: hence the position of the serfs has been considerably altered within the last few years. slaves can now no longer be purchased without the lands to which they are attached. formerly owners often hired out their slaves: they can now only grant them passports for three years, and the serf himself chooses the master he will serve, and the kind of labour to which he will apply himself. it was evidently with a view to the same end that a bank was created some years ago in st. petersburg, for the purpose of rendering pecuniary assistance to the aristocracy. every proprietor can borrow from the bank at eight per cent., on a mortgage of his lands. but by the rules of the institution, when the term of payment is past, the property of a defaulting creditor may be immediately sequestrated to the crown. what the government foresaw has happened, and does happen daily, and it has acquired numerous private estates, and incorporated them with the imperial domains. a new ukase respecting the emancipation of the slaves which was issued in , fixed the relative position of freedmen and their former lords. the measure was shaped so as to give the government a direct influence conducive to the gradual emancipation of the population. the owners were left, as before, the power of emancipating their serfs; but by the terms of the ukase, they could only do so in accordance with certain rules, and with the express sanction of the emperor. this ukase excited so much dissatisfaction among the old _noblesse_, that the tzar was induced subsequently to neutralise its effect by a police enactment. the primary end was, nevertheless, obtained, and the ukase dealt a heavy blow to the subsisting relations between lord and serf.[ ] we believe, nevertheless, that the course adopted by the emperor nicholas (by the advice, no doubt, of count kizilev) is erroneous, and that the last ukases are impolitic. do what it will, the government will never succeed in liberating the private slaves without the co-operation of their owners. it is impossible to think of making all the peasants exclusively serfs of the crown; such a means of emancipation is impracticable, for it implies that the government should remain, in the last result, sole possessor of all the lands in the empire, and that the nobility, great and small, should be infallibly ruined. in our opinion, the last ukases have only served to make emancipation more difficult, by exciting hatred between masters and slaves, and fostering the germs of a dangerous rebellious spirit. the russians are still so backward in civilisation, that ideas of independence, abruptly and incautiously introduced amongst them, would be very likely to cause disastrous convulsions. liberty must reach them gradually; and above all, it is absolutely necessary that they should be prepared, by instruction, to exchange their slavery for a better state of things. otherwise, with their present character, liberty, after being first summed up by them in the privilege of doing nothing, in pillage and massacre, would inevitably end in wretchedness and destitution. in the treatment of this great social question, it is before all things necessary that the government should come to a fair understanding with the nobles, and labour conjointly with them for the regeneration of the slave population: it is only by earnest mutual aid that those two powers will ever succeed in advancing the cause of emancipation without imminent peril to the empire. but in any case, there is no denying the many difficulties of this enterprise, no answering for all future contingencies. considerations connected with landed property will probably long defeat all efforts in this direction, unless the peasants be freely permitted to become landowners, on payment of a certain sum for the redemption of their persons, and the purchase of the land requisite for their subsistence. this seems to us the only rational, nay, the only possible means, of arriving at complete emancipation without violence. no doubt if such a privilege be granted to the peasants, the present improvident and prodigal race of nobles will be rapidly dispossessed; but this will not occasion the country any serious inconvenience, and the new order of things will but favour the development of the middle class, in which really reside, in our day, all the strength and prosperity of a nation. as for the clergy, whose numbers amount to about , , both males and females, we mention them here only to repeat our declaration of their nullity and immorality. utterly unacquainted with any thing pertaining to polity and administration, having nothing to do with public instruction, and being in their own persons ignorant to excess, the priests enjoy no sort of influence or consideration, and are occupied solely with corporeal things. we will not enter further into this subject. we are loath to unveil completely the vices and ignoble habits that distinguish the priests of the orthodox russian church. the following is a general table of the russian population as published by the ministry in : _clergy._ | males. | females. | | orthodox greek clergy of all grades, | | including the families of ecclesiastics | , | , united greek | , | , catholic | , | armenian | | lutheran | , | reformed | | mahommedan mollahs | , | , [a] buddhist lamas | [b]| | | _nobility._ | | | | hereditary nobles | , | , personal nobles, including the children | | of officers | , | , subaltern functionaries, retired soldiers, | | and their families | , | , | | _populations bound to military_ | | _service in time of war._ | | | | cossacks of the don, the black sea, the | | caucasus, astrakhan, azov, and the | | danube, orenburg and the ural, and of | | siberia, bashkirs, and mestcheriaks | , | , | | _inhabiting towns, or included_ | | _in the municipalities._ | | | | merchants of the three guilds, including | | notable _bourgeois_. | , | , bourgeois and artisans | , , | , , bourgeois in the towns of the | | western provinces | , | , greeks of nejine, armourers of toula, | | apprentices in the pharmacies, and | | others, brokers in the towns, and | | functionaries in the service of the | | municipalities | , | , inhabitants of the towns of bessarabia | , | , | | _inhabiting the rural districts._ | | | | serfs of the crown and the apanages | , , | , , serfs of the seignorial lands | , , | , , | | _nomade races, such as_ | | | | kalmucks, khirghis, turkmans, tatars | , | , inhabitants of the transcaucasian provinces | , | , kingdom of poland | , , | , , grand duchy of finland | , | , russian colonies in america | , | , +-------------+---------- total | , , | , , [a: these figures are evidently misplaced. ought they to stand for catholic nuns?--_translator._] [b: this number is quite erroneous, for we ourselves found several hundred priests among the kalmucks of the volga. the encampment of prince tumene, which we visited, alone possesses more than .] soldiers and sailors in actual service, their wives and families, not having been included in this total, the gross amount of the population of the empire appears to be about , , ,--at least if we may judge from the ministerial table, the correctness of which we by no means guarantee. according to the report of the ministry of the interior, the part of the population of european russia not belonging to the orthodox greek church, was, in , as follows: catholics , , gregorian armenians , catholic armenians , protestants , , mohammedans , , jews , , buddhists , --------- total , , footnotes: [ ] we have not the honour of being acquainted with the emperor of russia's secret thoughts, and we willingly ascribe to a certain liberalism all the ukases concerning the emancipation of the slaves; it is possible, however, that the tzar's measures may have been prompted, in a great degree, by the fears with which he regards an aristocracy still possessing more than , , of slaves. chapter xiv. constitution of the empire; governments--consequences of centralisation; dissimulation of public functionaries-- tribunals--the colonel of the gendarmerie--corruption-- pedantry of forms--contempt of the decrees of the emperor and the senate--singular anecdote; interpretation of a will --radical evils in the judicial organisation--history and present state of russian law. the existing division of the russian empire into fifty-six governments dates from the reign of the emperor paul. a nearly similar organisation existed indeed in the time of catherine ii., but the functions of the governors had a much wider range at that period than in our days, and those administrators, called by the empress her stewards, enjoyed nearly sovereign power. the russian governments correspond to the french departments, the districts to sub-prefectures; each government has its chief town, which is the seat of the different civil and military administrations. the governor, who has the exclusive charge of the civil administration, nominates to various secondary places, is the head of the college of _prévoyance_, and ex-officio inspector of the schools, can demand an account of their proceedings of all the provincial authorities except the high court, and determines administrative questions with the aid of a council of regency composed of two councillors and a secretary, nominated by the emperor. at first sight the governor's power seems unlimited; and indeed he has all the authority requisite to do mischief, but very little to do good. in russia the most laudable intentions and the most brilliant capabilities are completely paralysed, and the chief administrators must, whether they will or not, undergo the disastrous consequences of the venality and corruption of their subordinates. distrust and suspicion have been made the essential basis of the organisation of the bureaucracy. by surrounding the high functionaries with a multitude of _employés_, and subjecting them to countless formalities, it was thought the abuses of power would be hindered; and all that is come of it is the creation of an odious class, who use the weapons put into their hands to cheat the government, rob individuals, and prevent honest men from labouring for the prosperity of their country. the governors have not even the right of inquest in judicial questions, and the judges may, by entrenching themselves behind the text of the rules, pronounce the most iniquitous sentences with impunity. i have known some true-hearted and generous administrators, but all after struggling for long years to arrive at some sage reforms, at last gave up their efforts in despair, and most of them fell into disgrace through the multiplied intrigues of their subordinates. in each chief town it is the secretary, the head of the chancery, who is the real wielder of the power of government. he alone is regarded as knowing the text of the russian laws; so that, in order to oppose any measure of the governor's, he has but to cite a few phrases, more or less obscure, from the code of regulations, and it very rarely happens that his principal ventures, without his approbation, to take on himself the responsibility of any administrative act. there have been instances in which governors, disregarding bureaucratic formalities, and acting for themselves, have impeded the execution of a decree of the tribunals; but they have never failed to expiate their audacity by dismissal, unless they were supported by a high social position and potent protectors. furthermore, the representatives of government are so cramped in their powers, that a governor-general, who often rules over several millions of men, cannot dispose of _l._ without the sanction of the ministry. centralisation, no doubt, has its advantages; but in a country so vast, and of such varied wants as russia, it is impossible that a minister, be his talents what they may, can ever satisfy the reasonable demands of all parts of the empire. the consequence is that the most useful projects are almost always neglected or rejected in the provinces remote from the capital. another evil, not less deplorable, is the necessity of practising mutual deception, under which the public functionaries labour. a public servant never thinks of making known to his superior the real situation of the country he governs: either he ridiculously exaggerates the good, or he is absolutely silent as to what is bad. in the latter case, he acts only in accordance with the imperative dictates of prudence, for if he declared the truth he would infallibly incur disgrace, and would even run the risk of being dismissed. so whenever a public calamity happens, it is only at the last extremity, and when the mischief is become irremediable, that he makes up his mind to call for an aid that usually comes not at all, or else is sure to come too late. this profound dissimulation, joined with the jealousy which the distinctions of rank excite among the _employés_, does incalculable damage to the empire by impeding every useful reform. however, of all the sovereigns of the empire, the tzar nicholas is, perhaps, the one to whom truth and plain dealing are most welcome, and with whom well-grounded censure finds most acceptance. unfortunately, since potemkin's mystifications, falsehood has become a normal thing with the russian _employés_, and the basis of all their proceedings, and hitherto the imperial will has been incapable of eradicating this fatal evil. the superior court of justice sitting in the chief place of each government, and comprising a civil and a criminal section, consists of two presidents, two councillors, two secretaries, and eight assessors, four of whom are burghers. the emperor endeavoured in to extend the rights of the nobility, by making the offices of president and judge in these tribunals elective, but this change appears to have produced but very unfavourable results. as all the great proprietors had very little inclination to fill such offices, the electors had no opportunity of making a good choice, and at last it was found necessary to return to the old institutions. the superior court of justice decides finally in all civil cases, in which the sum in dispute does not exceed rubles. over it are the various departments of the senate and the general assembly, resident partly in st. petersburg, and partly in moscow, and constituting two courts to which appeals lie from the governmental courts. there is no appeal from the decisions of the general assembly of the senate, or from those of the council of the empire approved by the emperor, except on the ground of misrepresentations in the evidence. in the district courts (corresponding to the french _tribunaux de première instance_) there are also two sections, civil and criminal, consisting each of a president, a secretary, having under him several _employés_ who constitute the chancery, and four assessors, two of whom are chosen from among the inhabitants of the rural district. these latter sit only in cases where peasants are concerned. there is likewise in each governmental chief town, and in each district town, an inferior court, specially charged with the affairs of the rural police, the taking of informations in criminal affairs, summary jurisdiction as to minor offences, and the execution of sentences. this court consists of a president, called _ispravnik_, and four assessors, two of them nobles, two peasants. these judges, who are all elected by the nobles, are assisted by a secretary, the only _employé_ directly dependent on the government. the chief towns and the district towns have also a sort of municipal council, consisting of a mayor (_golova_), and four assistants, elected by the municipality, and afterwards approved of by the government. this council acts also as a tribunal, and takes cognizance of all the petty cases of litigation that may arise among the townsfolk. a nearly similar institution exists among the peasants of the empire. we will not speak of the colleges of wards, the committees of the nobles presided over by the marshals of the nobles, the courts of conscience which try cases between parents and children, &c. the members of all these institutions are elected, but their functions are too insignificant to demand mention here. one of the most influential personages in each government, is the colonel of the gendarmerie, who is completely independent of the governor. he is the head of the secret police, corresponds directly with the minister, and has it in his power, if he is an honest man, to do much good by the rigorous control he can exercise over all the _employés_ of a province. this justiciary scheme is in itself very liberal, and ought, one would suppose, to satisfy the wants of the population; but like the governors, the judges of the different tribunals are in fact but puppets, moved at the discretion of the subordinate clerks, who alone are masters of the tricks and quibbles of russian jurisprudence, and legal practice. the lowest clerk in a chancery has often more influence than the president himself, and the suitor who refuses to be squeezed by him may be quite certain that he will never see the termination of his cause. it is impossible to imagine with what adroitness all these fellows, many of whom receive for salary only sixty or a hundred rubles a year, manage to sweat the purses of those who require their assistance. justice is continually violated in favour of the highest bidder, and thanks to the number of contradictory ukases which pass for laws, the most audacious robberies are unblushingly committed without the possibility of redress. it may be asserted with truth, that the jurisdictional authority in russia resides in the offices of court rather than in the persons of the judges. the secretary is the omnipotent arbiter of sentences, and dictates them under the influence of money and the bureaucracy. nothing can give an idea of the arts of knavery and chicane put in practice to fleece the unfortunates who have to do with the underlings of justice. the rigorous stickling for forms, and the multitude of papers, are a curse to the country; no business is done by word of mouth in russia.[ ] all law proceedings are carried on in writing; the slightest question and the most trivial explanation must be put down on stamped paper according to the appointed forms. hence it may be conceived that with the horrible spirit of chicanery that characterises the _employés_, and the readiness with which they can find a flaw (a _krutchuk_ as they call it), in every paper, legal proceedings are spun out to an indefinite length, and scarcely end until both parties are ruined, or until the one prevails over the other by dint of money and corruption. i have often known a document to be sent back from st. petersburg after a lapse of six months, merely because this or that phrase was not written according to rule. the government of bessarabia alone paid , _l._ for stamps, in the course of four years, and the population of that province does not exceed , . the want of publicity, moreover, has the most pernicious influence on the administration of justice. all judgments are made up in secret; there are no open pleadings; law processes consist from first to last in piles of paper, which enrich the judges and their subordinates, but in no-wise affect their opinions, which are always based on the most advantageous offers. this woful state of things is further aggravated by the fact that the judges are secure from all responsibility; in whatever manner they decide a cause, they always do so in accordance with the laws, provided they observe the due forms; but what is really incredible, is the impudence with which the lowest tribunal of a district town presumes to annul both the decrees of the emperor and those of the general assembly of the senate. i will mention in illustration a certain suit brought against the heirs of a rich landowner in podolia, who was deeply indebted at his death to the imperial bank of st. petersburg and to several foreign bankers. these latter having become creditors before the bank, naturally claimed to be paid in the first instance. the consequence was a suit, which had been going on for twelve years when i arrived in russia. the foreigners were defeated in the district court, but they gained their cause successively in the governmental court and the general assembly of the senate, and finally they obtained a decree in their favour from the emperor himself; but the district tribunal, under pretext that certain regulations had been violated, took upon itself to annul all the decisions of the senate, and to make the whole suit be begun over again. it sometimes happens, however, that the imperial will is declared in so positive a manner, that all the tricks and subterfuges of judges and secretaries must give way to it. here is an anecdote that conveys a perfect notion of what law means in russia. in alexander's reign the jesuits had made themselves all-powerful in some parts of poland. a rich landowner and possessor of peasants at poltzk, the jesuit head-quarters, was so wrought on by the artful assiduities of the society that he bequeathed his whole fortune to it at his death, with this stipulation, that the jesuits should bring up his only son, and afterwards give him whatever portion of the inheritance _they should choose_. when the young man had reached the age of twenty, the jesuits bestowed on him peasants. he protested vehemently against their usurpation, and began a suit against the society; but his father's will seemed clear and explicit, and after having consumed all his little fortune, he found his claims disowned by every tribunal in the empire, including even the general assembly of the senate. in this seemingly hopeless extremity he applied to a certain attorney in st. petersburg, famous for his inexhaustible fertility of mind in matters of cunning and chicanery. after having perused the will and the documents connected with the suit, the lawyer said to his client, "your business is done; if you will promise me , rubles i will undertake to procure an imperial ukase reinstating you in possession of all your father's property." the young man readily agreed to the bargain, and in eight days afterwards he was master of his patrimony. the decision which led to this singular result rested solely on the interpretation of the phrase _they shall give him whatever portion they shall choose_, which plainly meant, as the lawyer maintained, that the young man was entitled exclusively to such portion as the jesuits _chose_, _i. e._, to that which they chose and retained for themselves. the emperor admitted this curious explanation; the son became proprietor of peasants, and the jesuits were obliged to content themselves with the they had bestowed on their ward in the first instance. assuredly the most adroit cadi in turkey could not have decided the case better. we have already seen that litigants can appeal to the governmental court, and again to the general assembly of the senate, in all suits for more than five hundred rubles. this privilege instead of being advantageous, appears to us to be highly the reverse. in france, where distances are short, and where justice is administered with a promptitude and impartiality elsewhere unexampled, the appeal to the court of cassation affords the most precious guarantee for the equitable application of the laws. besides this, it only gives occasions to a revision of the documents in the case, and to a new trial before another tribunal if there have been any error of form; but in russia, where distances are immense, and where all things conspire to render suits interminable, litigants from the provinces can only ruin themselves by using their right of recourse to the tribunals of st. petersburg. i have known landowners who spent twenty years of their lives in prosecuting a suit in the capital, and who died without having obtained judgment. it must be acknowledged, however, that appeals to st. petersburg are justified to a certain extent by the deplorable nature of governmental justice. the last radical vice we have to mention has its origin in the nobiliary system of peter the great, in inadequate salaries and the want of a special body of magistrates. we have seen the necessity entailed on all freemen of entering the service of the state and acquiring a more or less elevated rank, the consequence is, that all the public departments are overburdened with _employés_; and as most of them have no patrimony and are very scantily paid, sometimes not paid at all, they are of course driven to dishonest shifts for their livelihood. even the heads of departments are not sufficiently remunerated to be safe from the many temptations that beset them. the government has indeed augmented their salaries at various times, but never in a sufficient degree to produce any desirable reform in their conduct. the office of judge, too, is not regarded with sufficient respect and consideration to make it an object of ambition to the high nobility; it is filled in all instances by the lowest privileged class in the empire, or bestowed as a recompense on retired military men. this will no doubt appear extraordinary; but it must be remembered that there exists as yet in russia no distinct corps of magistrates, nor any official class of lawyers; the members of the several tribunals, whether elected by the nobles, or nominated by the emperor, are by no means expected to be acquainted with jurisprudence and the laws, and if any among them have studied law in the universities this is a mere accident. those of them who are honest, judge according to their conscience and their common sense; the others give their voices for those who have bought them. it is the same with the senate, the supreme judicial court in the empire. it consists only of military veterans, and superannuated servants of the state; in a word, of men who know nothing whatever of law. hence it is easy to conceive the unlimited power exercised in all these courts by the government secretaries, who, when they know by heart the some thousands of ukases that form what is called the imperial code, pass for eminent lawyers in the eyes of the russians. the same evil affects, to an equal degree, all the administrative departments. in russia, no calling or profession has its limits strictly defined; a man passes indifferently from one service to another. a cavalry officer, for instance, will be nominated as director of a high school, an old colonel as head of a custom-house, and so forth. in addition to the laws which are peculiar to it, russian legislation evidently comprises two foreign elements, the german and the roman. germanic law was introduced into russia by the varengians, a branch of the northman stock. to the leaders of those warriors the country owes the origin of its feudal system. subsequently, when the russians were converted to christianity, vladimir adopted certain parts of the roman law as modified by the byzantines. but if we may judge from the documents furnished by the nestorian chronicle, it would appear, that previously to that epoch, the russians had already borrowed some particulars from the roman code, and blended them with their customary law of indigenous and german origin. the first written code mentioned in russian history, is that of jaroslav, who reigned in the beginning of the thirteenth century; from that period the country remained quite stationary, in consequence of the continual wars and troubles occasioned by its territorial division; and more than a century of suffering and anarchy prepared the nation to submit without resistance to a foreign yoke. it was in that the tatars crossed the volga and seized the dominions of the tzars; and whilst europe, under the energetic influence of the crusades and of the lights of the lower empire, was sapping the edifice of feudalism, and labouring towards its future glorious emancipation, russia remained for more than years in ignominious thraldom, taking no part in the great intellectual movement of the fifteenth century, retrograding rather than advancing, debasing its national character day by day, and thus heaping up against the progress of civilisation, obstacles which the genius of its modern sovereigns has not yet been able to annihilate. in the ever memorable reign of ivan iii. the tatars were expelled from the greater part of russia, the dissensions caused by the parcelling out of the empire were extinguished, the several principalities were united into a single body, and legislative labours were resumed after four hundred years of inaction. ivan iii. had a collection made of all the old judicial constitutions, and published, with the assistance of the metropolitan jerome, a collection of laws, which is not without merit, considering the period when it was made. but this code allowed wager of battle; and murder, arson, and highway robbery, continued to be judged in the lists. about , ivan iv. surnamed the terrible, completed the code of laws promulgated by his grandfather, ivan iii. and put a check upon the territorial aggrandisements of the clergy. the new code, known by the name of _sudebnick_, remained in force almost without any change, until the accession of the tzar alexis michaelovitz (father of peter the great), who, having collected the laws of the several provinces of the empire, published them in , under the title of _ulogeniè_. this collection, the first printed in russia, was begun and completed within the space of two months and a half; but notwithstanding its imperfection, it has nevertheless, served as the foundation on which all subsequent improvements have been based. since the reign of peter the great, ten commissions have been successively employed in the codification of the russian laws. we will not enter into the details of the changes introduced by them: on this subject, the work published by m. victor foucher, and the "coup d'oeil sur la législation russe," by m. tolstoi, may be consulted with advantage. the tenth commission was appointed in , and sat until . it applied itself earnestly to the construction of the civil, penal, and criminal codes; but numerous difficulties prevented it from completing its task. on his accession to the throne, the emperor nicholas promised at first a new code which should correct and complete its predecessors. but the difficulties were too great, and he ended by adopting a digest, which merely classified according to their subjects all the existing laws promulgated since the general regulation of , effected by alexis michaelovitz. in , he laid down the following rules for this revision. . enactments fallen into desuetude to be excluded. . all repetitions to be suppressed, by choosing among statutes to the same effect that one which is most complete. . the spirit of the law to be preserved by expressing in a single rule the substance of all those that treat of the same matter. . the acts from which each law is drawn are to be exactly set forth. . between two contradictory laws, the preference to be given to the more recent. the design of the emperor nicholas was speedily carried into effect. the complete collection of the laws of the empire was published in ; and on the st of january, the tzar announced in a manifesto that the classification of the law as a systematic body was terminated. the matter was then spoken of in the russian journals in : "the second section of the private chancery of his majesty the emperor has just finished printing the first collection of the laws of the russian empire from to december , in forty-five volumes, to. "this collection consists of four principal parts: , the text of the laws from the general regulation of to the first manifesto of the emperor nicholas (december , ), in forty volumes. this part comprises , laws, rules, treaties, and acts of various kinds; , a general index containing a chronological table, which is in some sort a juridical dictionary for russia; , a book of the appointments of civil functionaries and of the administrative expenditure and the tariffs from to , to the number of ; , a book of the plans and designs pertaining to the several laws. "the laws and acts belonging to the reign of his majesty the emperor nicholas, will form the second collection beginning on the th of december, . the printing is already begun, and it will appear in the course of the year. a supplement to it will afterwards be published every year. "the laws anterior to the year of , which are generally considered as obsolete, but which are nevertheless of high importance as regards, history, will form a separate collection under the name of the ancient laws. "this first collection was begun in , and finished on the st of march, . the printing began on the st of may, , and ended on the st of april last, at the press of the second section of his majesty's chancery. for the composition of this collection, it has been necessary to collate and extract from books of laws. the forty volumes of the text, and the volume of the chronological index, contain printed sheets. "this book will be ready for sale on the st of june at the printing-office. the price of the forty-five volumes is paper rubles. "by a rescript of the th of april last, addressed to the privy-councillor dashkof, adjunct of the minister of justice and director of that ministry, his majesty the emperor notifies to him the order he has given to furnish copies of the collection to all the departments of the senate, and to all the tribunals and administrations of the government, and directs him to concert with the ministers of finance and of the interior for the prompt delivery of these books in all the governments, so that they may be kept and employed in due manner." thus the code of the emperor nicholas is, in fact, but a systematic collection of all the laws promulgated within the last years, or thereabouts. it contains not one new idea, not one modification required by the actual situation of the empire, not one thought for the future. now if we reflect that the study of books of laws, and the revision of , laws or ukases, have taken place within the short period of two years, and that the men who had to perform this task, were far from being jurisconsults, we shall perceive that such a work must be very imperfect, and that it must have been totally impossible to fulfil the intentions of the tzar, as expressed in the instructions above cited. the empire, indeed, possesses fifty-five bulky volumes of laws, but the inconveniences resulting from the multiplicity of contradictory ukases, and from others ill adapted to the necessities of the country, have been retained in them to a great extent; and the experience of thirteen years has shown the insufficiency of this collection, and its little influence on the course and conduct of lawsuits. another defective point in this improvisated legislation, is its pretension to satisfy the requirements of the future by admitting, as a complement to the body of the statutes, all the ukases issued, or to be issued by the emperor. if to these , laws already existing, this palladium of justice already so formidable, there be added every year a supplementary volume equal in capacity to the average legislative contributions of the last years, every year will then supply its battalion of new laws; and i am at a loss to conceive where there will be found by-and-by a lawyer sufficiently patient to study this new levy of justice, when with all the good will imaginable the most indefatigable reader can hardly once in his life pass in review the body of the veterans. in the space of five years since the emperor's manifesto (january , ), five new volumes have been already added to the collection. nevertheless, it cannot be denied that the emperor's performance is extremely meritorious. to him belongs the honour of having been the first to bestow a regular body of laws on his country. before his time russia had but a confused and fluctuating legislation, encumbered with an infinity of statutes, the study of which was the more difficult, as no printed collection of them existed. at present it possesses at least a complete digest, within reach of all, and which all may consult and appeal to. surely a man of the emperor's perseverance and great capacity would not have shrunk from accomplishing a more perfect work, could he have indulged the hope of being seconded by abler and better instructed jurisconsults. but he was compelled of necessity to take the consequences of the want of any thing like a corps of magistrature, and finding he could not do any thing better, he resolved to make no change in the spirit of the laws promulgated during the preceding years, and to follow exactly the course marked out in by peter the great. in this way the codification of the laws became a mere effort of compilation and arrangement, and setting aside the collation of the ukases, the clerks of the second section of the imperial chancery were quite competent to the task. it will not be altogether uninteresting to place here a detailed table of the population in a governmental chief town. an examination of such documents may lead to very curious comparisons and reflections. the town we have chosen is kichinev, the capital of bessarabia, and the figures we give have been extracted directly from the books of the provincial governor's chancery. | men. | women. | | monks | | priests | | servants | | military officers[a] in active service | | superior officers in the civil service, ditto | | officers of the fourteenth class, ditto | | | | _military officers on leave._ | | generals | | staff-officers of every grade | | | | _civil officers on leave._ | | generals | | superior officers and others | | ~~~~~~~~~~ | | persons employed in the theatre | | first guild merchants | | second ditto | | third ditto | | foreigners | | burghers | , | , government employés of all kinds | , | young people reared at the expense of the crown | | soldiers on furlough | | workpeople | | gipsy slaves | | german colonists | | pupils of all kinds | | |--------|-------- total | , | , [a: neither the officers nor the soldiers of the garrison are included in this list.] footnotes: [ ] the official correspondence of the ministers, and of the civil and military authorities, amounts annually to nearly , , of letters, whilst that of all private russians does not exceed , , . chapter xv. public instruction--corps of cadets--universities and elementary schools; anecdote--plan of education--motives for attending the universities--statistics--professors; their ignorance--exclusion of foreign professors--engineering-- obstacles to intellectual improvement--characteristics of the sclavonic race. in contemplating the development and organisation of public instruction in russia from the time of peter the great to these days, one cannot help thinking that the russians attach infinitely more value to the appearance of progress, than to its real existence. one would say they care very little about scientific and intellectual results, provided their universities and schools be complete in all physical details, and provided they have numerous educational halls graced with the names of all the sciences professed in europe. nevertheless, the sovereigns of russia have all laboured more or less actively for the propagation of public instruction. unfortunately they would never suffer themselves to admit that civilisation is a long and difficult work; and incapable of forgetting, even amidst the liberal ideas on which they based their projects, that they were before all things absolute princes, they fancied they could civilise their nation as they had disciplined their soldiers; and then, swayed by vanity and self-conceit, they graciously suffered themselves to be deceived by all the brilliant reports laid before them by the administrative departments. it was in the reign of feodor alexievitz that the first academy was founded in moscow. the sclavonic, greek, and latin languages were taught there. a university was afterwards established in the same city, and in the reign of catherine ii. st. petersburg possessed an academy of sciences and the fine arts, and a society of rural economy. but even at that period the spirit of ostentation, which forms the substratum of the russian character, already revealed itself; and while forming those grand institutions, not a thought had been given to the opening of a single elementary school in either capital. some writers indeed allege that peter i. left behind him, at his death, fifty-one schools for the people, and fifty-six for the military; but i have always been disposed to think that those establishments existed but in name, and my researches have but confirmed that opinion. the first elementary institution of any importance founded in the new capital, dates only from the beginning of the eighteenth century: it is the school of the cadet corps, exclusively reserved for the young nobility, and intended to form officers for the land and sea service, and for the engineers. in order to judge of the instruction afforded in it, one ought to be able at least to mention some of its pupils who have been distinguished for their talents, and who have acquired a certain degree of celebrity; but it is as difficult to name any such, as to discover men of learning and science among the members of the various academies mentioned above. be this as it may, we cannot help entertaining a very mean opinion of the spirit and organisation of all these establishments founded by peter the great, and by the sovereigns who succeeded him during the latter part of the eighteenth century. the first institution in favour of the people was created in st. petersburg in : it was an educational establishment for the daughters of burghers and gentlemen of scanty fortune. it was founded by catherine ii., who in taking measures by preference for the education of women, seems to have intended to prepare them for usurping in their domestic circle the same absolute sway which she was herself about to exercise over the whole empire. elementary schools were not actually opened to the public until , and that only in some of the great towns of the empire. as all these ill-contrived early institutions possess little interest, i will pass on to the consideration of the present state of public instruction. the existing system dates from alexander's reign. the course adopted in the beginning was on all points similar to that pursued by peter the great and catherine ii. the first thing thought of was the establishment of universities; those of dorpat and vilna were re-established; that of moscow was reformed, and new ones were founded in kasan and kharkof. as for elementary schools, they were completely overlooked. the following anecdote will give an idea of the primitive state of the great colleges of the empire. a german gentleman in the russian service travelled in the crimea, in . on passing through kharkof, curiosity induced him to visit the university, which had been opened in the town about a year before. while looking over the cabinet of natural philosophy, he perceived with amazement that the professor of that branch of science did not even know the names of the few instruments at his command. unable to conceal his surprise, he asked his guide where he had been professor before he became attached to the university. "i never was a professor before," was the reply. "where did you study?" "i learned to read and write in moscow." "how did you obtain the rank of professor of natural philosophy?" "i was an officer of police; my age no longer allowed me to support the fatigues of my duty; so hearing that a place which would suit me better was vacant in the academy, i applied for it. thirty years' service, good certificates, and the influence of a patron, enabled me to obtain it." "and what are the duties belonging to your place?" "i have to inspect the instruments, and keep them in order, and i am directed to show them to such persons of distinction as may please to visit the university." this happened, it is true, in , and i only mention the fact to show the spirit that prevailed in the establishment of these learned institutions. the university of kharkof is now in a better condition, and i know many professors there of real merit, distinguished among whom are doctor vancetti, equally remarkable for his acquirements and his philanthropy, and professor kalenitchikov, who devotes himself with success to all branches of natural history. at last, however, it was felt that universities were insufficient, and could not exist without elementary schools. some years after the accession of alexander, gymnasiums were therefore established in all the governmental chief towns; and the district towns had their primary institutions, in which were to be taught reading and writing, the elements of grammar and arithmetic, the history of russia, sacred history, geography, geometry, and the rudiments of latin. the course of instruction in the gymnasia was more extensive, and embraced special mathematics, logic, rhetoric, and physics. lastly, the pupil was advanced to the university, where he went through a complete course of study, comprising the sciences, the liberal arts, literature. at first sight it would appear that this well conceived plan of studies ought to have had the most satisfactory results; but this was not altogether the case. the nobiliary system of the empire, and certain regulations of detail and discipline combined to destroy the reasonable hopes founded on such liberal institutions. the russian universities unquestionably number among their professors some distinguished men, equally devoted to science and to the duties of their calling; but the social ideas prevalent in the country render their efforts almost always unavailing, and they find themselves compelled to restrict their course of instruction within the narrow routine prescribed to them. now and always the universities and gymnasia are and have been for the most part attended only by pupils of the class of petty nobles, or of those of the priests and burghers. as for the sons of the aristocratic families, they are generally educated at home by private tutors, and as they are almost all intended for the army, they enter at once into the corps of cadets established in st. petersburg. according to a table published by the ministry of the interior, all the first class establishments for public instruction, that is to say the universities, the two medico-chirurgical academies, the pedagogic institute and the three lycea, contained in only functionaries and professors, and pupils, the numbers being thus made up: | functionaries | | and teachers. | students. | | st. petersburg | | moscow | | dorpat | | kharkof | | kasan | | st. vladimir (kiev) | | richelieu lyceum (odessa) | | demidof ditto | | bezborodko ditto | | medico-chirurgical academies of | | moscow and vilna | | pedagogic institute of st. petersburg | | according to the same report the russian empire possessed at the close of the year , establishments under the superior direction of the ministry of public instruction, and containing , pupils. the young men who attend the university courses, have all but one single object in view, that of acquiring a grade of nobility; and the examinations are too slight to make industry and proficiency in their studies really requisite to the attainment of their purpose. besides, they are most of them educated at the cost of the government, and as the latter does not like to lose its money, they must all enter the imperial service, whether well taught or not. in this manner are formed all the physicians, surgeons, and subordinate professors of gymnasia. as for the civil departments the sole condition required for admission into them, is the knowledge of writing and arithmetic; accordingly the common class russian thinks he has completed his education when he can read, write, and cypher; and he is indeed sufficiently erudite to get a footing in some chancery office, a common clerkship in which admits him to the first grade as a civil officer, and from thence he may arrive at the highest rank in the service. many young men on leaving the universities, are of course employed in the public offices; but then, whatever talents they may possess, and whatever fruit they may have gathered from their studies become utterly useless to them. from the moment they enter any office whatever, they perceive with astonishment that they know nothing of what it is essential they should know. they have stepped into a new world of which they do not even know the language. they hear nothing talked of around them but forms, rules, tricks for evading the laws and ordinances, artifices for giving a legal colouring to abuses and extortions, and all sorts of inventions for squeezing money out of those who have the misfortune to need the help of the _employés_. they soon see that the greatest adepts in those frauds which are conveniently styled office usages, the least scrupulous, or, in plain terms, the greatest rogues, are considered clever fellows, and make their way rapidly; whilst those who still retain some sense of honesty and a lingering respect for the principles of morality, are laughed at as fools. what then does the novice, who has perhaps carried off the prize of eloquence at the university? finding himself obliged to defer to the lowest pupil of an elementary school, who has already gained some knowledge of office practice, he tries to forget all he has learned, and applies himself to a new course of study. his conscientious scruples are soon silenced; prompted by emulation he gradually becomes as accomplished as his mates, and by dint of this second education the clever fellow at last quite effaces the honest man. it is also from the universities that the young men are taken who are designed for the business of public instruction; and as we have already stated, they are for the most part educated at the expense of the state. when their studies are completed they are appointed professors in the gymnasia and other schools. the government has neglected no means of making their calling as advantageous as possible, both as to salary and honorary advancement. these encouragements would have the happiest effect anywhere else than in russia, but there they have quite the contrary result. it follows from the existing system of nobility with its graduated scale, the privileges it confers, and the means of fortune its offers, that a man's whole status in life resolves itself into a question of official rank. now, as no calling presents a greater chance of rapid advancement than that of the public instructor, in which capacity a young man rarely fails to obtain the rank of major (hereditary nobility) after five or six years' service, the consequence is that all the sons of the petty nobles, burghers, and priests, eagerly rush into this thriving profession. this, however, is not the real mischief; on the contrary, the great number of competitors might produce a very salutary rivalry; but unfortunately the little power and influence exercised by the professors, who after all, can only command boys, and still more than this, their want of opportunity to enrich themselves under cover of their office, strip the business of public instruction of all prestige, and cause it to be considered, notwithstanding its high pay, as much less advantageous than many other posts the fixed salary of which is almost nothing, but which enable the holders to levy almost unlimited contributions on those who come under their hands. what follows? as soon as the professors have obtained the rank of major, they quit the universities and enter the civil administrations, where they can fatten on law suits, chicanery, and exactions, and all the countless means by which the law enables them to make fraudulent fortunes. and here we may remark that this state of things is another consequence of the want of definite callings and professions in russia. the career of official rank is the only one known to the russian; for him there exists none other. we must not wonder, therefore, if the instruction given in the elementary schools, and the gymnasia is incomplete and almost barren of good effect. the teachers are almost always mere boys without experience or sound knowledge. they content themselves with going through their routine of business according to the letter of the rules, and the military discipline imposed on them; but once escaped from their classes, they think of nothing but enjoying themselves, eating, drinking, and playing cards. i have visited many gymnasia in russia, and i have always seen in them the same effects flowing from the same causes. besides the great universities and high schools, all the leading towns of the empire formerly contained numerous boarding schools, most of them kept by strangers; but these were suppressed by ukase in the year . the means of instruction are at present confined to the imperial establishments, from which all foreigners not naturalised in russia are excluded. these new regulations dictated by false vanity, will infallibly have a disastrous influence, and render the progress of education more and more difficult. there still exist in russia several establishments for the education of officers and civil and military engineers. the institute of ways and communications was established in the reign of alexander, under the superintendence of four pupils of the ecole polytechnique of france, mm. potier, fabre, destrême, and bazain, who entered the service of russia, at the request to that effect preferred by the tzar to napoleon. this school (which i have not visited) might have rendered great service to the empire, had the government been discreet enough to leave it its foreign professors, and not subject it to the absurd interference of the russian military drill. very few able men have issued from this institution, and the profound ignorance i have seen exhibited in all the great works executed at a distance from the capital, attests the decay of a school which at first promised so fairly. again, it must be owned, that from the time when engineers enter on active service, they have no leisure to complete their studies; as soon as they receive an appointment, their whole time is taken up with reports, accounts, writings without end, and all the countless formalities devised by the quibbling and captious spirit of the russians. i have known several engineers at the head of important works; they had not a moment to themselves, their whole day being spent in writing and signing heaps of paper. the same observations apply to the military, for whom secondary manoeuvres and minute costume observances form a never relaxing and stultifying slavery. under such a system, all the germs of instruction implanted in the schools, soon disappear in service. besides, it must be admitted that the generality of russians have a natural indifference to the sciences and the arts, which will long defeat the efforts of sovereigns desirous of effecting an intellectual regeneration. though i have gone over a large portion of the empire, i have found very few persons, young or old, who were really studious and well-informed, and too often i have met with nothing but the most utter apathy, where i had a right to expect interest and enthusiasm. it matters not that the emperor showers tokens of favour and respect on his _savans_, the russians themselves continue, notwithstanding, to treat them with great disdain. the reason is, that the arts and sciences do not lead to fortune in russia, and as they fall exclusively to the lot either of foreigners, or of the petty nobles, they cannot enjoy high consideration in a form of society which respects only might and authority, and consequently recognises but two vocations worthy of ambition, viz., the military profession and the civil service. but independently of the influence of a bad social organisation, the russians seem to me to be at this day the least apt by nature of all the nations of europe to receive solid instruction. the sclavonic race may be divided into two great branches: the first of these, which contains the poles among others, has felt the influence of the west, with which it has been in long and immediate contact, and so enabled to adopt its civilisation more or less closely; the second, on the contrary, has acknowledged the paramount influence of asia, and the russians who compose it, are still in our day under the action of the mongol hordes, to which they were enslaved for more than three centuries. again, russia is absolutely and entirely a novice in civilisation; go over her whole history, and you will not find a single page which gives proof of a really progressive tendency. it is a very remarkable fact that her political and commercial relations with the lower empire were entirely barren of result upon her civilisation, which remained completely stationary, even in circumstances most favourable to its development: it is therefore by no means surprising, that despite all the efforts of her sovereigns, she has been unable to place herself on the level of the other nations of europe within the space of a hundred years. the results of our civilisation, more than twenty centuries old, are not to be inculcated so rapidly: there needs we think, a long series of progressive initiations, so that the moral constitution reacting on the physical, may render the perceptions and the organs of the latter more delicate, and more suited to intellectual development: and this period of transition must necessarily be very long for a nation to which the past has bequeathed only reminiscences of slavery and destruction. look, on the other hand, at greece, moldavia, and wallachia, countries which have all had glorious periods in history; they have made great strides within ten years, and have in that short space of time established their claim to rank as members of the european family of nations. to their past history belongs in part the honour of their present advancement. that thirst for instruction, that incredible aptitude to seize and understand every thing, which is characteristic above all of the greeks, are evidently but old faculties long sunk in torpor under the pressure of slavery, and which waited but for a little freedom to break forth with new energy. chapter xvi. entry into the country of the don cossacks--female pilgrims of kiev; religious fervour of the cossacks--novo tcherkask, capital of the don--street-lamps guarded by sentinels--the streets on sunday--cossack hospitality and good nature--their veneration for napoleon's memory. beyond nakhitchevane, several valleys abutting on the basin of the don, isolated hamlets, and a few stanitzas, diversify the country, and make one forget the sterility of the steppes, that spread out their gray and scarcely undulating surface to the westward. the banks of the don which are seldom out of sight, are enlivened by clumps of trees, fishermen's huts, and herds of horses that seek there a fresher pasture than the desert affords. but except these animals, we saw not a single living creature; the heat was so intense, and the country is still so little inhabited, that most of the fields appeared to us in a state of wild nature. nothing around us indicated the presence of man. in the country of the don cossacks, as elsewhere throughout russia, the post road is barely marked out by two ditches so called, which you often drive over without perceiving them, and by distance posts two or three yards high. this is all the outlay the government chooses to incur for the imperial post roads leading to the principal towns of the empire. before arriving in novo tcherkask, the capital of the cossacks, we encountered another wandering party at least as curious as our gipsies. imagine our surprise when having passed through a wide ravine, which for a long while shut in the road, we saw defiling over the steppes a countless string of small cars, escorted by i know not how many hundreds of women. we advanced, puzzled and curious to the last degree; and the more we gazed the more the numbers of these women seemed to multiply. they were everywhere, in the cars, on the road, and over the steppes; it was like a swarm of locusts suddenly dropped from the sky. most of them walked barefoot, holding their shoes in one hand, and with the other picking up fragments of wood and straw, for what purpose we could not conceive. their carts were just like barrels with two openings, and were driven by themselves, for there was not the shadow of a beard among them. they were all returning, as they told us, from the catacombs of kiev, to which they had been making a pilgrimage. among them i remarked some old women who had scarcely a breath of life remaining. they seemed dreadfully fatigued, but at the same time very well pleased with their pious expedition. further on we met another procession of the same kind, which had already arranged its encampment for the night. two fires, fed with those little chips of wood that had so much perplexed us, served to prepare the evening meal. all the pilgrims were busy, and formed the most varied groups. some were fetching water in earthen pitchers, which they carried on their heads; others were kneeling devoutly, making the sign of the cross; and the genuflexions so frequent among the russians and cossacks; the oldest were feeding the fire and telling stories. it was an indescribable scene of bustle and noise, displaying a variety of the most picturesque attitudes and physiognomies. all the women were of cossack race. there is much more of pious fervour in this nation than in the muscovites. a slight difference of text between the bibles of the two people has occasioned a very great one in their religious sentiments. the cossacks call themselves the true believers, and abstain on religious grounds from the pipe, and from many other things which the muscovites allow themselves without scruple. the natural integrity of their character is rarely sullied by hypocrisy. they love and believe with equal ardour and sincerity. at the extremity of a plateau, on the verge of a wide and deep valley, the town of novo tcherkask suddenly appeared to us, rising in an amphitheatre, and embracing in its huge extent several hills, the broad slopes of which descend to the bottom of the valley. all the towns we had previously seen, and which had shocked us by the extravagant breadth of their streets and their dearth of houses, were nothing in comparison with what now met our eyes. seen from the point where we then stood, the whole town was like an enormous chess board, with the lines formed by avenues broader than the place du carousel in paris. these lines, bordered at intervals by a few shabby dwellings, and separated from each other by open spaces in which whole regiments might manoeuvre quite at their ease, some churches, and a triumphal arch erected in in honour of alexander, are the only salient points of this desert which they call a capital, and the superficial dimensions of which are, without exaggeration, as great as those of paris. novo tcherkask, now the seat of all the public offices of the don country, was founded in by count platof, who became so celebrated through the unfortunate french campaign of moscow. its very ill-chosen position forbids all chance of future prosperity. it is situated nearly eight miles from the don, on a hill surrounded on all sides by the axai and the touzlof, small confluents of the river from which it is so fatally remote. platof is said to have selected this site for the purpose of building a fortress; but his intentions have not been realised. another most serious inconvenience for the town is the absolute want of good water. wealthy persons use melted ice to make tea. in the great square there are two very large bazaars with wooden roofs, in which are found all sorts of goods, and especially an abundant collection of military equipments for the use of the cossacks. there is also a great arsenal, but quite destitute of arms. as for the other edifices, they are not worth mentioning, notwithstanding all the fine descriptions given of them by geographers. but novo tcherkask has one precious thing to boast of--a thing unique in russia--and that is an excellent hotel kept by a frenchman, in which the traveller finds all the comforts he can desire. the nobility who have strongly encouraged this establishment, have formed in it a casino, in which many balls are given in the winter. the emperor nicholas visited the don cossacks in , and to this auspicious event the capital owed the good fortune of being supplied with lamps in the streets. but the lights went out when his majesty departed; and it is said, that in order to save the lamps from being stolen, the authorities had been obliged to make an armed cossack stand sentry over each of them. the population of novo tcherkask, formed by the union of four stanitzas, amounts to about , . staro tcherkask, the old capital, now abandoned, has nothing to attract the traveller's attention, though dr. clarke has bestowed on it the pompous title of the russian venice. our arrival in the cossack capital fell on a sunday. as the windows of our hotel looked full on the only promenade in the town, the greater part of the population passed in review before us. every thing here bespeaks the nomade and warlike temper of the cossacks. there is no copying of european fashion, no frank costumes, no mixed population; every thing is cossack, except a few kalmuck figures, telling us of the vicinity of the volga. the cossacks we had seen at taganrok, had given us but a poor opinion of the beauty of the women of the country; we were, therefore, agreeably surprised at the sight of all the pretty girls that passed continually before our windows. even their costume, which we had thought ugly, now seemed not wanting in originality, and even in a certain piquancy. the young girls let their braided hair fall on their shoulders, and usually tie the braids with bright ribbons, that hang down to their heels. some of them confine their tresses in a long bag made of a silk handkerchief, a style of head-dress by no means unbecoming. it was really a very pretty sight to see the crowd of elegant officers and young women in gala attire that filled the footways, exchanging looks, smiles, and even soft discourse, as if they were in a ball-room. the men are tall and handsome, and look remarkably well in uniform. bravery and noble pride are legible in their features and their eyes, as if they were still those fiery children of the steppes, who, before the days of catherine ii. acknowledged no other power than that of their ataman, freely chosen by themselves. arms are at this day their sole occupation, just as they were a hundred years ago, and their organisation is still altogether military, as we shall see by and by. what erroneous notions are entertained in france, of these good-natured, inoffensive, and hospitable cossacks! the events of and , have left a deep repugnance towards them in all french minds, and indeed it could hardly be expected it should be otherwise. but speaking of them as we found them in their own land, they do not deserve the aversion with which our countrymen regard them. there is no part of russia where the traveller is more safe than in their country, nor does he anywhere meet with a more kindly welcome. the name of frenchman, especially, is an excellent recommendation there. the portrait of napoleon is found in every house, and sometimes it is placed above that of the great st. nicholas himself. all the old veterans who have survived the great wars of the empire, profess the greatest veneration for the french emperor, and these sentiments are fully shared by the present generation. chapter xvii. origin of the don cossacks--meaning of the name--the khirghis cossacks--races anterior to the cossacks--sclavonic emigrations towards the east. the origin of the don cossacks has, like that of the tatars of southern russia, given rise to interminable discussions. some have represented this people as an offshoot of the great sclavonic stock; others consider it as only a medley of turks, tatars, and circassians. vsevolojsky adopts the former of these opinions, in his geographical and historical dictionary of the russian empire. m. schnitzler boldly decides the question, in his statistics of russia, by declaring that the cossacks of the don have proceeded from the caucasus, and belong for the most part to the tcherkess or circassian nation. constantino porphyrogenitus, a writer of the ninth century, mentions a country called _kasachia_. "on the other side of the papagian country," he says, "is kasachia, and immediately afterwards are discovered the tops of the caucasus." the russian chronicles likewise mention a circassian people subjugated in by prince mstizlav, of tmoutarakan. these, it must be owned, are very vague data, and the resemblance between two names is not warrant for our concluding that the cossacks of our day and the kasachians of the ninth century, are one and the same nation. except the few words we have just cited, we have no other information respecting the latter people, and all the historical researches hitherto made, have failed to determine the real situation of tmoutarakan. this town has been placed sometimes at riazan, sometimes at the mouth of the volga, on the site of astrakhan, sometimes on the asiatic shore of the bosphorus. a stone, with a sclavonic inscription, discovered at taman, seemed for a while to have solved the problem. but it was afterwards fully demonstrated, that this grand historical discovery was only a hoax practised on the credulous antiquarians. the kasachia of the ninth century is thus but very imperfectly known to us; even with the help of constantino porphyrogenitus, it would be difficult to determine its position with any real precision; and when the cossacks, now known to us, appear for the first time, years afterwards, it would be rash and arbitrary in the extreme to declare them the descendants of a people so briefly mentioned by the byzantine writer. this opinion will appear the less admissible, when it is considered that the country of the cossacks, situated around the sea of azov, lay directly in the route of all those conquering hordes that issued from asia to overrun and ravage europe, and afterwards disappeared successively, without leaving any other trace of their existence than their name in the pages of history. is it likely that kasachia was more fortunate? is there any probability that its people, after years of absolute obscurity, again arose out of the chaos of all those revolutions, to produce the cossacks of our day? we cannot think so. historical inquiries, and above all a knowledge of the regions extending between the sea of azov and the caspian, prove beyond question that all those countries were never occupied by a nation having fixed habitations. we have ourselves traversed those russian deserts, up to the northern foot of the caucasus; and except the somewhat modern remains of madjar, on the borders of the kouma, we nowhere found any vestige of human occupancy, or any trace of civilisation. it is, therefore, by no means likely, that amidst all the convulsions of the asiatic invasions, from the ninth to the fifteenth century, whilst so many races were disappearing completely, that a little remote nomade people shall have preserved for years its nationality and its territory, without being swept away and absorbed by all those warlike hordes that must have passed over it in torrents. this would be an historical fact perfectly unique in that part of the world; to us it appears in flagrant contradiction with historical experience. we are of opinion then, that the cossacks of our day have nothing in common with the kasachia of constantino porphyrogenitus, and that we must look elsewhere for their origin and for the reason of their appellation. let us in the first place examine this word _cossack_. according to the use in which it was formerly and is still employed, it seems evidently not to belong to a special people, but simply to express the generic character of every nation, having certain distinct manners and customs. thus in russia, at this day, the name of cossacks is given to all those persons who are under military organisation: there are turcomans, kalmuks, and tatars so called in the steppes of the caspian; and in bessarabia, some gipsies and a medley of nondescript people constitute the cossacks of the dniestr. the don cossacks, themselves, attach no historical significance to their designation, which they seem to regard merely as a by-name given to them in former times, and they readily share it with the nomade tribes around them, whose organisation is the same as their own. the only appellation they assume among themselves, is that of true believers. the existence of the khirghis kaissacks of our day, can be traced back to more remote times; but there is certainly no analogy between this mussulman people and our cossacks. furthermore, it seems proved that the tatars before their invasions of europe, used to give the appellation of cossacks to all those individuals of their own race, who, having no property, were obliged to subsist by pillage, or to sell their services to some military leader. _cossack_ then, according to our apprehension, signifies only a nomade and a vagabond people, and it is likely that the tatars on their arrival in europe, gave that name to all the wandering tribes they found in the steppes of azov and of the don. what tends still more to confirm this opinion is, that no mention of cossacks is made by rubruquis and du plan de carpin, who traversed all the regions of southern russia, on their embassy to the grand khan, in the beginning of the thirteenth century. and now let us ask whence came those nomade people that preceded the modern cossacks in the steppes of the don and the sea of azov? here again we must dissent from the views of dr. edmund clarke and lesur which have been generally adopted in schnitzler's statistics. according to the testimony of all historians the slaves already occupied various parts of southern russia, during the first period of the decadence of the lower empire: every one knows indeed that the descendants of rurik often carried their attacks on the emperors of the east up to the very gates of their capital. the annals of russia also demonstrate the existence of the slaves at the same period, in all little russia, and even in the country of the don. this region was then called severa. its inhabitants, after a long contest with the petchenegues, emigrated in part, and we now find their name attached to one of the principalities of the danube, viz., servia. again, it is universally admitted even by the adversaries of our opinions that the don country was occupied previously to the tatar invasions by a nomade and warlike people, the polovtzis, who, there is every reason to think, were no other than slaves.[ ] it may well be conceived that the dissensions and continual wars between the numerous chieftains, among whom the russian soil was formerly parceled out, must naturally have produced numerous emigrations; and these partial emigrations being too weak to act against the west, must of course have turned eastward towards those remote regions of the steppes where the fugitives might find freedom and independence. it would be difficult then to disprove that a slavic people existed on the banks of the don when the tatars arrived; and that people was apparently the polovtzis, an agglomeration of fugitives and malcontents, who, during the convulsions of the russian empire, under vladimir the great's successors, seem to have laid the first foundations of the cossack power in the steppes of the sea of azov and the don.[ ] the name of the polovtzis disappeared completely under the tatar sway; but it would be illogical thence to infer that the people itself utterly perished, and did not share the destiny of the other sclavonic tribes of russia. we agree, therefore, with some historians in thinking that the polovtzis merely exchanged their appellation for that of cossacks, imposed on them by the tatars, and made permanent by a servitude of more than three centuries. we have besides already remarked that the tatars used among themselves to call all adventurers and vagabonds cossacks: it is not, therefore, surprising that they should on their arrival in russia, have given this designation to the nomade hordes of the polovtzis. this historical version seems far more rational than the supposition that the polovtzis completely disappeared, and were entirely supplanted by a caucasian race, which had taken part in the expeditions of batou khan. the traveller, who has studied the cossacks and the mountaineers of the caucasus, can never admit the doctrine that would make but one nation of these two. our notions on this subject are corroborated in every point by physiological observations. in the first place, considerations founded on religion and language, are not so lightly to be rejected as clarke and lesur assert. the conversion of the cossacks would not certainly have been passed over unnoticed in the history of the lower empire; the byzantine writers would have been sure to record such a triumph of their creed; but they say not a word about it; and every one knows perfectly well in what manner christianity was categorically introduced into russia. moreover, if the cossacks had been nothing but circassians at the beginning of the thirteenth century, it would be hard to account for their ready adoption of a foreign language and religion, at a time when that language and that religion were, if not proscribed, at least much discredited under the tatar sway. the last russian expeditions into the caucasus, towards the sources of the kouban, have, it is true, given birth to new historical ideas as to that part of asia. thus, there have been discovered two churches in a perfect state of preservation, the origin of which is evidently genoese or venetian, and we can scarcely fail to recognise in the circassians some traces of christianity in the profound respect they bear to the cross. but, on the other hand, nothing indicates that this people was ever christian; on the contrary, every thing proves that its primitive religion, if its religious notions may be so called, has undergone no alteration. those christian edifices, too, which we have alluded to, belong to a later period than the inroads of the tatar hordes, consequently they can only testify in favour of our views. no chronicle speaks of the emigration of a tcherkess people in the middle ages. the only tradition relating to any thing of the kind, is that of a strong tribe from the caucasus, which, after occupying the plains of the danube, is said to have settled at last in pannonia. every one is aware that mountain tribes are the least migratory of all, and the most attached to their native soil; it is, therefore, natural to suppose that the circassians, so proud of their independence and so often ineffectually attacked, did not receive the warriors of genghis khan as friends, or take part in their sanguinary expeditions.[ ] hence m. schnitzler appears to me to propound a more than questionable fact when he alleges, following karamsin, that the circassians entered russia with batou khan, and so formed by degrees that new people, which, to borrow the language of this statician, _on the breaking up of the tatar rule and the dispersion of the clouds, which till then had hung over their country, appears to us as russian and christian, but with circassian features, with tatar manners and customs, and hating the muscovites_. how can we assign such an origin to the don cossacks when there exists neither among them, nor among their supposed brethren, any tradition of so modern a fact? besides, if the cossacks had really come from the caucasus, would they not have retained some neighbourly relations with the mountaineers? is it not a singular notion to take circassians, the most indomitable of all men, and the most attached to their hereditary usages and manners, to subject them to the tatars for more than years, and then to transform them at once, and without transition, into a people speaking pure unmixed sclavonic, and professing the greek religion? this is certainly one of the most curious of metamorphoses; before it could happen there must have been a combination of circumstances exactly the reverse of those which have really existed. the circassians, one would think, would have been much more disposed to adopt the religion of the victors, than of the vanquished, the more so as islamism having already at that period made considerable progress in eastern caucasus, would give them a much stronger bias towards the tatars, than towards the wandering hordes of the polovtzis, from which we derive the cossacks. notwithstanding the assertions of dr. clarke, it is not easy to trace much resemblance between the circassians and the cossacks. at present we see all the people who dwell at the foot of the caucasus, generally adopting the habits of the mountain tribes. a great number of nogai tatars have become completely blended with them. the cossacks of the black sea have borrowed from them their costume and their arms. the muscovites and the german colonists themselves have not escaped the energetic influence of the caucasian tribes; and yet some would have us believe that the don cossacks, a tcherkess tribe, separated from the parent stock not more than years, have undergone a contrary impulse during all that time, and now present, in a manner, no resemblance to their ancestors. the two peoples differ in costume, arms, industry, and every other particular. the circassians are extremely apt in manufactures, and excel in all sorts of handicraft productions, to which they give a very marked and original character. the cossacks, on the contrary, have little or no turn for manufactures; in this respect they exhibit no trace of what characterises the caucasian tribes in so high a degree. as for the tatar habits, of which m. schnitzler speaks, i know not where to look for them, unless they consist in the trousers generally worn by the cossack women. after all, the tatars must necessarily have left some traces of their habits in the countries over which they ruled for so many centuries. the real point of contact between the cossacks and the circassians, consists in their love of freedom, and their intense hatred for every thing russian. but these sentiments evidently flow from their ancient and primitive constitution; and if they detest the russians, it is because the muscovite sovereigns, who have never ceased to attack their privileges, have at last succeeded in annihilating their whole political existence. undoubtedly the cossacks are not pure sclavonians, like the people of great russia, but are mixed up with many other races. the don country long remained a soil of freedom, a real land of asylum for all refugees. the circassians have probably not been strangers to their past history, and the adventurous life of the cossack must have fascinated many a mountain chief. history, too, informs us that the sclavons of poland have mingled their blood with that of the inhabitants of the don country. it is this medley of races, and the combination of all these various influences, added to the thoroughly republican character of their primitive constitution, that give the cossacks their intellectual superiority, and make them a nation apart. but the principle stock is nevertheless sclavonic. the partisans of the circassian origin have also dwelt on the resemblance between the name of the capital of the don country, and that of a caucasian tribe. but really when a historical question of this importance is under discussion, such a resemblance cannot be of much weight. we know that some fugitives from the boristhenes, about the year , fell in with cossacks on the don, and joined with them in an attack on azov, which then belonged to the turks. it was just about this period, , that staro tcherkask was founded. we should hence be disposed to believe that the fugitives from the ukraine had a great share in the creation of that town, and that they called it tcherkask, in memory of the name of the old capital of their native land. the don cossacks appear to us for the first time in the thirteenth century, on the ruins of the tatar empire. not till then did they begin to make a certain figure in the history of the muscovite empire. in the reign of ivan iv. the terrible, they put themselves under the protection of russia. from that time until near the end of the last century, we see them sometimes marching under the banners of the muscovite sovereigns, sometimes rising against them, and often bringing the empire to the very verge of ruin. their political condition was in those days a real republic, founded on a basis of absolute equality. the head of the government, styled ataman, was selected by the whole assembled nation, and retained his office but for five years; but his power was dictatorial, and no one could call him to account for his acts, even after the expiration of his office. all the subaltern leaders were likewise elected, and retained their posts for a greater or less time, according to circumstances. equality, however, resumed its sway at the end of each military campaign; each officer, on returning into private life, enjoyed only the rights common to all; and the colonel or starshine often made the ensuing campaign as a private soldier. aristocracy was totally unknown to the don cossacks in those days; if some families were distinguished from the rest by their greater influence, they owed this solely to their courage and their exploits. so strong was then the sense of independence, that the cossacks despised as vile mercenaries those who took permanent service under the russian sovereigns. as for the imperial suzerainty, it was limited to the right of calling for a military contingent in case of war, and of disposing of a small body of troops to defend the frontiers against the nomades of the steppes. cossack freedom was doomed to perish when brought into collision with the principles of absolutism and servitude which rule in the russian empire; accordingly, as soon as the empress catherine ii. felt strong enough to make the attempt, she decided on a radical change in the political constitution of the don country. the first of her ukases to this effect enacted that all the cossack officers in the service of russia should retain their rank and privileges on their return to their own country; a regulation directly opposed to the habits and usages of that republican people. how, indeed, could that haughty soldiery have endured that slave-officers, as it called them, should be put on the same footing with its own, elected by the acclamations of the nation? a revolt ensued, but it was promptly put down. the illustrious potemkin could not understand that insurrection, for it seemed to him incredible that the cossacks should rebel because they were granted almost all the privileges of russian officers. after these unhappy troubles, their elections were abolished, and their political system was gradually changed, until it came to resemble that of a russian government. count platof was the last ataman of the cossacks, and he owed the authority he was allowed to enjoy, in a great measure to the peculiar circumstances in which he was placed by the wars of the empire. the don country continued through the last century as before, to be a land of asylum and freedom for all refugees. this led to the settlement of a great number of russians among the cossacks. the emperor paul took advantage of this circumstance to secure the attachment of the principal families by publishing an ukase, in which he at once, and without warning, declared all the russian fugitives slaves of the landowners, whose patronage they had accepted. this first partition of the people was not the last; another ukase of the same sovereign completed the work of catherine ii., abolished equality, and constituted an aristocracy by ennobling all the officers and _employés_ of the government. the nobility at present amount to a considerable number, and all the officers are taken from that body. the young cossacks, like the russians, enter the st. petersburg corps as cadets, at ten or twelve years of age; after some years they join a regiment as _junker_, and two or three months afterwards they become officers. the political power of the cossacks being annihilated, active means were taken to deprive them of all military strength, by dispersing them all over the empire, and stationing them wherever there were quarantines, custom-house lines, and hostile frontiers to guard. cossack posts were simultaneously established on the frontiers of poland, and at the foot of the caucasus. lastly, every means of enfeeblement was largely employed, and after the death of platof, under pretext of rewarding the nation for its devotedness during the campaign of moscow, the functions of ataman-in-chief were suppressed, and the title was conferred on the heir-apparent. all these arbitrary measures, which, after all cannot be blamed, have naturally excited the most violent discontent in the country of the don, and the cossacks would undoubtedly cause the empire serious uneasiness in case of war. the government is not ignorant of this hostile temper. in recent times it did not dare to trust the cossacks with real pieces of artillery, and the regiments were compelled to exercise with wooden cannons. it is certain that the campaign of would not have been so disastrous for france, if napoleon had taken care to send emissaries among the inhabitants of the don with promises to re-establish their ancient political constitution. i have questioned a great number of military men on this subject, and all were unanimous in assuring me of the alacrity with which the cossacks would then have joined the french army. nothing can give an idea of the antipathy they cherish to their masters; the feeling pervades all classes, in spite of every effort of the government. the russians affect so much disdain for the cossack nobles, that the latter, notwithstanding their epaulettes and their decorations, cannot but bitterly regret the old republican constitution. furthermore, the military service is so onerous, that it checks all agricultural and industrial activity; for be it observed, that the cossacks of the present day are far from being the plunderers they were in former times. the service is to them but a profitless task, and they all long eagerly for a sedentary life, which would allow them to attend to rural occupations, and to trade. the country of the don cossacks is now definitively a russian government. all the laws of the empire are there in full force, and the administrative forms are the same, under other names. nevertheless, the still free attitude of the cossacks has not hitherto permitted the installation of the russian _employés_ among them. within the last three years only, the government has succeeded in having itself represented at novo tcherkask, by a general placed at the head of the military staff of the country. the cossacks regard this innovation with dislike, and spare their new military superior no annoyance. the following is the present organisation of the don cossacks:-- the ataman (_locum tenens_) holding the grade of lieutenant-general, is the military and civil head of the government, and at the same time the president of the various tribunals of the capital. the functions of vice-president having been conferred since on the general of the staff before mentioned, the latter is in fact the sole influential authority in the country. the province of the don cossacks is divided into seven civil and four military districts; the courts are similar to those of the other governments. the army amounts at present, to fifty-four regiments, of men each (not including the two regiments of the emperor and the grand duke) and nine companies of artillery, having each eight pieces of cannon. in , there were twenty-eight regiments in active service, fifteen of them in the caucasus, with three companies of artillery. at the same time, nine other regiments were under orders to march for the lines of the kouban. all the cossacks are soldiers born: their legal term of service is twenty years abroad, or twenty-five at home. but no regard is paid to this regulation, for most of them remain in active service for thirty or even forty years. they pay no taxes, but are obliged to equip themselves at their own expense, and receive the ordinary pay of russian troops only from the day they cross their native frontiers.[ ] the organisation of the regiments is effected in rather a curious manner. when a regiment is to be sent to the caucasus, each district receives notice how many soldiers and officers it is to supply, and then the first names on the military books are taken without distinction. the place of muster is usually near the frontier, and every one arrives there as he pleases, without concerning himself about others. when all the men are assembled, they are classed by squadrons, the requisite officers are set over them, and the detachment begins its march. hence we see there is nothing fixed in the composition of the regiments. the cossacks are subjected nevertheless to the european discipline, and formed into regular corps; but this innovation seems likely to be fatal to them, by completely destroying their valuable aptitude for acting as skirmishers. the emperor nicholas visited the don country in , and reviewed the cossack troops at novo tcherkask, but it appears that he was exceedingly displeased with the condition of the regulars. accordingly, that he might not expose them to the criticism of foreigners, he took care not to be accompanied by the brilliant cortège of european officers who had been present at the grand military parades of vosnecensk. the population of the don cossacks amounts to about , , occupying , , hectares of land, and divided into four very distinct classes: . the aristocracy founded by the emperor paul; . the free cossacks; . the merchants; . the slaves. the free cossacks form the mass of the population, and furnish the horse soldiers; they have however the opportunity of acquiring nobility by military service, but to this end, they must serve for twelve years as non-commissioned officers. the merchants form a peculiar class, which can hardly exceed in number. they are not bound to do military service, but in lieu of this, they pay taxes to the government. the slaves, whose origin we have described, amount to about , souls. the revenues of the government of the cossacks, are about , , rubles, more than sufficient for the expenditure, that is to say, for the payment of the _employés_. the spirit duties produce , , rubles, the rest is made up by the salt works of the manitch, and the pasturage dues. the country of the don cossacks is bounded on the north by the two governments of voroneje and saratof; on the east by the latter, and that of astrakhan; on the south by the government of the caucasus, the country of the cossacks of the black sea, and the sea of azov; on the west, by the governments of voroneje and iekaterinoslav and the ukraine slobodes. all this territory forms a vast extent, no part of which is detached as m. schnitzler asserts; on the contrary, the regency of taganrok is completely encompassed by it. the country of the cossacks may be divided into two very distinct parts: that situated to the north and west, presenting lofty plains intersected by many rivers and ravines, is admirably adapted for agriculture, and possesses excellent pastures. among its numerous rivers, are the donetz, the mious, and the kalmious, which marks its frontier on the west, and the khoper and the medveditza on the north-east. it is principally along the two latter streams, that the cossacks have established their most celebrated studs, among the foremost of which, are those of count platof. the second division of the country, consists of all the steppes that extend along the left bank of the don, to the confines of the government of the caucasus, and along the manitch to the frontier of astrakhan. the soil is here unvaried; it is the russian desert in all its uniformity, and the basin of the muddy and brackish manitch, is perfectly in harmony with the regions it traverses. but those monotonous plains are a source of wealth to the cossacks, who rear vast herds of horses and other cattle; several thousands of kalmucks too find subsistence in them. until , the government of the cossacks exhibited one very singular peculiarity. its whole territory formed but one vast communal domain, without any individual owners or ownership. after several fruitless attempts, the russian government finally determined on dividing the lands, and the work must by this time have been completed. besides the new arrangements adopted, there have been granted to each family thirty hectares of land for each male, and fifteen additional for each slave. after this distribution, there will remain to the government, , , hectares of land, on which it will no doubt establish muscovite colonies. this division of the land is a final blow to the old cossack institutions, and ere long the population will consist only of nobles and peasants, just as in the rest of russia. the peasants are free it is true, but their properties will soon be absorbed by the wealthier and more powerful: and then an ukase will do the work of establishing slavery in the country. the community of landed property was hitherto the only obstacle to a complete severance between the new nobles and the other cossacks. it was another remnant of the old republican equality, and was naturally doomed to fall before the principles of unity and centralisation of the russian government. when we see russia laying her hand on all the free populations of the southern part of the empire, and bringing them gradually under the yoke of serfdom, we cannot but be struck with astonishment, and compare the revolution it is now effecting before our eyes, with that which so deplorably signalised the roman sway. it may easily be conceived how fatal the military organisation of the cossacks must be to their prosperity and well-being. never sure of what the morrow may bring forth, and liable at any moment to be called to arms, they have of necessity fallen into indifference and sloth. their domestic ties are broken, for they are often many years without seeing their wives and children. under such a system, all intellectual improvement becomes impossible; and there has also resulted from it an incipient demoralisation, compressed as yet by the force of primitive manners, but which will not fail at last to spread over the whole population. yet the cossacks are eminently intelligent. i saw thirty young men at novo tcherkask execute topographical plans extremely well, after a few weeks' study. the russian generals themselves could not refrain from expressing their surprise to me at so rapid a progress. let russia renounce the oppressive system she is forcing on the cossacks; let the latter, on their part, make up their mind to admit that their ancient constitution is in our day become an utopia; and the don country will soon make rapid advances in colonisation, and exhibit all that constitutes the prosperity and wealth of a nation. the means of instruction enjoyed by the cossacks are still extremely limited. in the whole country there is but one gymnasium, very recently established in novo tcherkask; but the wealthier cossacks have long been used to have their children educated in the neighbouring governments, particularly in taganrok, where the private schools kept by foreigners afford them great advantages. the rearing of cattle, especially of horses, is now the chief source of gain to the cossacks. count platof's studs, as we have already said, are reputed the best: they are descended from the trans-kouban races, crossed by persian and khivian stallions, procured by the late count during the war of with persia. very good cavalry horses are also produced by platof's stallions out of tatar and kalmuck mares. count platof's horses fetch from to rubles; but in the steppes of the manitch, where there are very extensive herds, the price seldom exceeds . the care of the herds is chiefly committed to kalmucks; usually horses are kept by one family, five hundred by three, a thousand by five, and from to by six. except a few proprietors, who are careful about the improvement of the breed, the cossacks allow their vast herds to wander about the steppes without any care or superintendence. the horses of the don never enter a stable; summer and winter they are in the open air, and must procure their own food, for which they have often to strive against the snow; hence they become extremely vigorous, and support the most trying campaigns with remarkable hardiness. nothing can be more simple and expeditious than the way in which they are broken in. the horse selected is caught with a noose; he is saddled and bridled; the rider mounts him, and he is allowed to gallop over the steppe until he falls exhausted. from that moment he is almost always perfectly tamed, and may be used without danger. i rode a mare thus broken, in one of my longest journeys on horseback. six days before my departure she was completely free; yet i never rode a more docile animal. the cossacks have three sorts of horned cattle, the kalmuck, the hungarian, and the dutch breeds. the first is generally preferred because it does not require to be stalled either winter or summer, or to receive any particular care, and always can pick up its feed in the steppes. at the same time the loss of cattle is enormous in long and severe winters, for the proprietors can never procure hay for more than six weeks' consumption, on account of the great numbers of their herds. at the end of the year , the don country possessed in cattle: horned cattle , , sheep , , goats , camels , horses , --------- total , , in that year the sheep produced , , kilogrammes of wool, which was exported. of the above number of sheep, only , are merinos. the wool of the latter fetched rubles the kilogrammes, whilst that of the native sheep did not sell for more than to . but the merinos require too much care, and i much doubt that they will ever be reared on a large scale by the cossacks. besides, as we have already seen, the breeding of merinos is far from being as profitable at this day as it was formerly. agriculture, properly so called, must naturally be in a depressed condition in a country of which the tenth part of the population is continually either in active service, or in readiness to be called out. no more corn is cultivated than is sufficient for the subsistence of the inhabitants. the crop of was , , hectolitres, a quantity considerably too small for seed, and for the consumption of a nation that annually consumes . hectolitres per head. the cossacks were, therefore, obliged to draw on the reserved stores and on the neighbouring governments. in general, whatever m. schnitzler may say to the contrary, their agriculture produces no more than is barely necessary; notwithstanding the advantages of a great navigable river, and its position on the sea of azov, the don country has not yet been able to export any corn. the cultivation of the vine is the only one that has prospered in any remarkable degree among the cossacks; it prevails in the southern regions on the banks of the don and of the axai. they now reckon vineyards, yielding annually, on an average, from , to , hectolitres of wine, and to of brandy. in , the production amounted to nearly , ; and when i was in novo tcherkask, grapes were selling there for three rubles the kilogrammes. sparkling wines are made, of which the don country now exports more than a million of bottles yearly. the best wine of a certain abrahamof is usually charged for at the rate of six rubles in the inns of novo tcherkask. the reader will, no doubt, be surprised to hear of such quantities of sparkling wines; but russia is unquestionably the country in which that sort of beverage is most esteemed; and as the petty nobles and the _employés_ cannot afford to drink champagne, they have recourse to the cossack vintage. the latter is consumed in incredible quantity, principally in the fairs, where no bargain can be concluded without a case of don wine. it is very agreeable, and is much liked, even by foreigners. it is to frenchmen the cossacks owe this branch of industry. fishing also forms an important source of income for the cossacks. it is carried on chiefly at the mouths of the don. in , it produced , kilogrammes of sturgeons yielding caviare, and more than , , of fish of different kinds, which they salt and send to the neighbouring governments. bees must also be enumerated among the sources of wealth in the country. the mious district, which possesses nearly , hives, produced in , , kilogrammes of honey, and , kilogrammes of wax. from these hints it will be seen how rich is the country of the cossacks, and how high a degree of prosperity it might reach under an enlightened and liberal administration. manufacturing industry is the only one that, as yet, has made no progress in it. it is said not to possess a single manufactory, which is natural enough, considering the military organisation of the nation. there is an extreme want of workmen; the few found in the country, who come from the neighbouring governments, demand very high pay, as much as two rubles and a half a day, which is exorbitant in russia. as for mineral wealth, the don country possesses abundance of coal and anthracite, the latter of which is worked in the neighbourhood of novo tcherkask. among the tribes incorporated with the don cossacks, the kalmucks demand especial mention. in the reign of the emperor paul, an ukase was issued, commanding a census to be taken of all the nomade tribes subject to russia. this certain presage of some tax or other, spread consternation among the kalmucks; their hordes began to break up, and great numbers of them took refuge with the cossacks. but the fatal ukase soon pursued them to their new asylum, whereupon some returned to the steppes of the caspian, whilst the rest being retained by the cossacks, were put under the same military and civil system of administration as the inhabitants of the don. these kalmucks now form a population of about , , and encamp on both banks of the manitch, about miles from the confluence with the don. in order to give some notion of the manners and customs of this people, i will here copy some fragments from an account of a scientific journey i made along the manitch, to determine the difference of level between the black sea and the caspian. it was towards the end of may, , i set out from novo tcherkask, to explore the manitch, a paltry stream, but which, nevertheless, had for a long while the honour of marking the boundary between europe and asia. i was accompanied by my friend, baron kloch, a german by birth, and a most agreeable man, lately arrived for the first time in russia. his intelligent conversation was a great source of enjoyment to me. six hours' travel brought us to axai, a charming stanitza, built like an amphitheatre on the right bank of the don. it is the great trading place of the cossacks, and but for the vicinity of rostof, a russian, and of course a privileged town, it would have been made the capital of the don country, and the general entrepôt of all the traffic from the north of the empire. the project was even entertained at first, but it was defeated partly by intrigue, and partly i believe by the obstinacy of count platof. axai is, nevertheless, the handsomest stanitza in the country. its balconied houses, painted in different colours, its port, the activity prevailing in it, its lively and bustling population, all excite the traveller's attention and curiosity. when i arrived in the town the inundations of the don were at their height, and as far as the eye could reach the waters covered the low plain that stretches along its left bank. we were soon furnished with a boat having on board a pilot and four excellent rowers, and at nine in the evening, we embarked to cross the river. the evening was perfectly calm and beautiful; and i shall never forget the lodkas with bellied sails, gliding down with the current, the melancholy songs of the russian boatmen, the sounds from axai gradually dying away in the distance, and our boat skimming across the smooth surface of the water, which broke in thousands of sparks from the oars. at midnight we landed before makinskaia, where we passed the remainder of the night on heaps of hay, in the court-yard of a paltry inn. at daybreak next morning, the saddle horses were ready, and we started for manitchkaia on the confluence of the manitch with the don. after some hours' riding we were brought to a halt by the overflow of the latter river; and for want of a better road to reach the stanitza, we were obliged to betake ourselves to wading through the temporary lake. this was the most unpleasant part of our journey. for a distance of more than four leagues our horses plodded on through thick mud with the water up to their bellies; and sometimes they were forced to swim. besides this, we were tormented by clouds of gnats. at last our situation became quite intolerable; for in the very middle of this passage we were assailed by a violent hurricane, the rain came down in torrents; our baggage waggon broke down, and we very nearly lost all its contents. the whole day was consumed in making the six leagues to manitchkaia. our kalmucks only succeeded in extricating the waggon from the hole in which it was stuck fast, by yoking one of their horses to it by the tail. this is an infallible means as we often found by experience; nothing can resist the violent efforts of the unfortunate horse when he finds himself in that predicament. leaving manitchkaia, we skirted along the basin of the manitch. the first dwellings we descried were some miserable tatar cabins, surrounded with brambles and thistles. we found in them an old tatar captain, a relic of the french campaign. he amused us a good deal by his pompous encomiums on the valour and tall stature of the prussians. a frenchman, said he, does not fear ten russians, but a prussian would settle at least ten frenchmen. for three days our journey was without interest. no traces of buildings were to be seen; at intervals there appeared in the middle of the steppes, a kalmuck tent, the inhabitants of which kept a large herd of horses; then here and there some strayed camels, and these were the only objects that broke the dreary monotony of the wilderness. but on the fourth day, we reached the vicinity of the great khouroul of the kalmucks, the residence of their high priest. one of our cossacks was sent forward to announce our visit, and an hour after his departure two priests came galloping up to us. after complimenting us in the name of the grand lama, they presented us with brandy distilled from mare's milk, in token of welcome, and fell in to line with our party. some minutes afterwards we descried the white tents of the khouroul. our party was every moment swelled by fresh reinforcements, and we had soon fifty horsemen caracoling by our sides. having reached the centre of the khouroul, we alighted, and then walking between two lines of priests dressed in garments of the most glaring colours, we were conducted to the high priest's tent. this venerable representative of the great dalai lama, was an old man upwards of seventy, entirely bald, and with features of a much less kalmuck cast than his countrymen. he was wrapped in a wide tunic of yellow brocade, lined with cherry red silk, and his fingers were busy with the beads of his chaplet. after many salutations on both sides we sat down on a sofa, and then, according to the invariable kalmuck usage, we were helped to brandy and koumis, a beverage at which my friend kloch made very queer faces. next, i presented the high priest with two pounds of bad tobacco, purchased at novo tcherkask, which i passed off as genuine latakieh. he was so delighted with my present that he did honour to it on the spot, with every mark of extreme satisfaction. this high priest will have the honour to be burned after his death, and his ashes, formed into a paste with a certain ingredient, will be worked into a little statue, which will adorn the temple to be erected to his memory. his successor is already nominated; he looks like a stupid fanatic, puffed up with the importance of his future dignity; we afterwards saw him acquit himself of his religious duties, with a conscientiousness quite rare among the cossack kalmucks. all the priests of this khouroul, appeared to us incomparably less devout than those of the volga and the caspian. they have very little reverence for their spiritual chief; they seem fully aware of the absurdities of their religious notions and ceremonies, and if they set any value by their functions, it is because they enable them to lead a life of indolence and sensuality, and exempt them from military service. the laity seems to be very indifferent as to religious matters. the women alone seem attached to their ancient principles; one of them burst into a fury because her husband allowed us to see and touch the leaves of her prayer-book. it is to their intercourse with the cossacks that we must attribute the lapse of these kalmucks from the strictness of the primitive rule, which has been preserved almost unimpaired among the kalmucks of the caspian. after leaving the high priest's tent we attended the religious ceremonies, in which there was nothing very striking. a sheep was afterwards killed in honour of our visit, and was served up, cut into small pieces, in a huge cast-iron pan. the ragout was black and detestable, but hunger made it seem delicious. the women of the vicinity arrived in the evening, and began to sing in chorus, parading round the khouroul. their strains were profoundly melancholy; nothing like them had ever yet struck my ears. their voices were so sonorous and vibrating, that the sound was like that of brazen instruments; and heard in that vast solemn wilderness, it produced the most singular impression. after walking half-a-dozen times round the khouroul the singers halted, and forming line with their faces towards the temple, they stretched out their arms and prostrated themselves repeatedly. the women having ended, next came the mandjis or musicians, who made the air resound with the braying of their trumpets at the moment when the sun was descending below the horizon. next day we left the khouroul to return to the banks of the manitch; i then continued my levelling along the course of that stream up to the point, where eighteen months before, on my way back from the caspian, i had been stopped by want of water and pasture. in our return journey we passed through numerous kalmuck camps on the right bank of the manitch, and were everywhere received with the liveliest delight. as all these nomades are exclusively engaged in rearing cattle, our curiosity was greatly excited by the prodigious herds of camels, horses, and oxen that covered the plain. before we reached the don we spent the last two nights in the lonely steppe, under the open sky. but six hours afterwards we were in taganrok, in the drawing-room of the amiable english consul, surrounded by all the comforts of civilised life. footnotes: [ ] we are quite convinced that the comans mentioned by the byzantine writers, are identical with the kaptschaks of the oriental historians. rubruck's narrative supplies proof of this; moreover both peoples spoke turkish. but in spite of all klaproth's assertions, we do not believe that the polovtzis of the slavic chroniclers were comans; for it seems to us far more rational to look for the descendants of the comans among the mussulman inhabitants of the south of the empire, who, as we learn from historic records, were already established in the same regions under the name of kaptschak, at the arrival of genghis khan's mongols. [ ] note that in our day the cossack population though augmented during a succession of ages, by numerous emigrations, does not exceed , souls; it must, therefore, in all probability, have been much less considerable in the fifteenth century, a supposition which further confirms our opinion that the cossacks never formed a distinct nation. [ ] according to du plan de carpin, the circassians do not appear to have escaped unscathed from the attacks of the mongols; but there seems no reason to think that they were really subjugated. [ ] since we left russia it has been proposed to equip the cossack regiments at the cost of the government. the country would, of course, in that case be taxed, and would cease to differ in any respect from the other provinces. 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. but, as we have already remarked, all is contrast in russia. extremes of all kinds meet there without any transition: from a desert you pass into a populous town, from a cabin to a palace, from a tatar mosque into an ancient christian cathedral, from an arid plain into the cheerful german colonies. surprises follow one upon the other without end, and give a peculiar zest to travelling, scarcely to be experienced in any other part of europe. it is particularly in approaching sarepta that one feels the force of these reflections: the novel impressions that there await the traveller who arrives benumbed in soul from the dreary wilderness, come upon him with the bewildering effect of a marvellous dream. even were sarepta whisked away, and set down in the middle of switzerland, one could not fail to be delighted with so charming a place; but to feel all its real excellence, one should come to it weary and worn as we were, one should have known what it was to long for a little shade and water, as for manna from the skies, and have plodded on for many days through a country like that we have described, under the unmitigating rays of a roasting sun. picture to yourself a pretty little german town, with its high gabled houses, its fruit trees, fountains, and promenades, its scrupulous neatness, and its comfortable and happy people, and you will have an idea of sarepta: industry, the fine arts, morality, sociability, commerce, are all combined in that favoured spot. the moravian colony, shut in within a bend of the volga, in the midst of the kalmuck hordes, eloquently demonstrates what miracles decision and perseverance can effect. it is the first shoot planted by europe in that remote region, amidst those pastoral tribes so jealous of their independence; and the changes wrought by the moravian brethren on the rude soil they have fertilised, and on the still ruder character of the inhabitants, give striking evidence of the benefits of our civilisation. every thing breathes of peace and contentment in this little town, on which rests the blessing of god. it is the only place i know in russia in which the eye is never saddened by the sight of miserable penury. no bitter thought mingles there with the interesting observations gleaned by curiosity. every house is a workshop, every individual a workman. during the day every one is busy; but in the evening the thriving and cheerful population throng the walks and the square, and give a most pleasing air of animation to the town. like most germans, the moravian brethren are passionately fond of music. the piano, heard at evening in almost every house, reminds them of their fatherland, and consoles them for the vicinity of the kalmucks. we visited the establishments of the moravian sisters, where, by a fortunate chance, we met a german lady who spoke french very well. the life of the sisters is tranquil, humble, and accordant with the purest principles of morality and religion. they are forty in number, and appear happy, as much so at least as it is possible to be in a perfectly monastic state of existence. consummate order, commodious apartments, and a handsome garden, make the current of their lives flow with unruffled smoothness, as far as outward things are concerned. music, too, is a great resource for them. we observed in the prayer-room three pianos, with which they accompany the hymns they sing in chorus. they execute very pretty work in pearls and tapestry, which they sell for the benefit of the community. there would be nothing very extraordinary in these details, if any other country were in question; we are afraid they will even be thought too commonplace; but if the reader will only reflect for a moment on the position of this oasis of civilisation on the far verge of europe, in the midst of the kalmucks and on the confines of the country of the khirghis, he will think our enthusiasm very natural and excusable. the only thing that rather offended our eyes was the would-be finery of the women's dress. would any one imagine that in this remote little corner of the earth they should be ridiculous enough to ape french fashions and wear bonnets with flowers? how preferable are the simple demure costume of the mennonite women and their little alsacian caps, to the mingled elegance and shabbiness of the moravian sisters. their dress is quite out of character, and makes them look like street ballad-singers. to give an idea of it, here follows an exact description of the costume of a fashionably-dressed young lady of sarepta (our host's daughter.):--a flowered muslin gown, short and narrow; a black apron; a large madras handkerchief on the neck; a patch-work ridicule carried in the hand; thick-soled shoes, bare arms, and a pink bonnet with flowers. to complete the portrait, we must add a very pretty face, and plump, well-rounded arms. the women here are much handsomer than in any other part of russia; many of them are remarkable specimens of the north german style of beauty. on the evening of our arrival we were advised to attend the funeral music performed as a last honour to one of the principal inhabitants of sarepta. the body was laid out in a mortuary chapel, with the family and numerous friends around it, and was not to be removed to the cemetery until the fourth day; an excellent custom, which may prevent horrible accidents. it would be difficult to imagine any thing more melancholy than the harmony produced by the voices and the brass instruments that alternately answered each other, and seemed the echoes of the saddest and most profound emotions of the heart. a great number of persons were present, and all the solemnity of the occasion did not hinder those worthy germans from gathering round us with the liveliest curiosity, and putting a thousand questions to us about the purport of our travels. the association of the moravian brethren dates from the celebrated john huss, who was burnt at constance, in . their history is but a long series of persecutions. the issue of the thirty years' war, so disastrous for frederick, the elector palatine, and king of bohemia, was particularly fatal to them. at that period most of the protestants of bohemia fled their country, and spread themselves through saxony, brandenburg, poland, and hungary. the vengeance of the emperor frederick ii. pursued them without ceasing, and great numbers of them perished in want and wretchedness. in , christian david, a carpenter, and some others of the proscribed, obtained permission from the count of zinzendorf, in lusace, to settle on his lands. they reached their place of refuge in secret, with their wives and children, and david struck his axe into a tree, exclaiming: "here shall the bird find a dwelling, and the swallow a nest." his hopes were not disappointed. the new establishment assumed the name of _herrenhut_ (the lord's keeping), and its members were soon known in germany only by that appellation. such was the beginning of the new evangelical society of the brethren of the unity of the confession of augsburg. herrenhut, the central establishment, throve rapidly, and became known all over europe for its industry and its manufactures; and by and by, when the proselytising spirit had possessed the brethren, they extended their relations over all parts of the world. shortly after the empress catherine ii. had made known to europe that russia was open to foreigners, and that she would bestow lands the immigrants, a deputation from herrenhut to st. petersburg decided on the formation of a moravian colony in the government of astrakhan. five of the brethren visited the banks of the volga in , and on the rd of september of the same year, the colony was settled at the confluence of the sarpa with the volga, and consisted at that time of thirty persons of both sexes. its name was borrowed from the bible, and an olive and a wheatsheaf were chosen for its arms. it was only by dint of courage and perseverance that these first colonists succeeded in their enterprise, surrounded as they were on all sides by the savage hordes of the kalmucks, having no knowledge of the language of the country, and situated at more than versts from any russian town. but after the first difficulties were surmounted, their prosperity was rapid. as we have already said, the moravian brethren form a vast society, spread throughout all parts of the world for the propagation of the gospel; but, moreover, for the better fulfilment of their mission they are all required by the rules of their order to know some trade, so as to be able to support themselves by the work of their own hands. hence sarepta soon became a seat of manufactures of all sorts, and an industrial school for the surrounding country, and catherine's intentions were realised. as for the brethren themselves, the establishment of an industrial town in a land so remote and so destitute of resources and markets, was for them but a secondary object. their chief aim was the conversion of the kalmucks, to accomplish which they thought rightly that it was indispensable to have a permanent settlement among those people. all their proselytising efforts, however, remained fruitless; the kalmucks were deaf to their instruction. it was not till that they succeeded in converting a few families, and inducing them to receive baptism. but now the russian clergy interposed, and insisted on the converts being baptised according to the greek rite, and finally, all the moravian missions were suppressed. ever since then sarepta has been a purely manufacturing town. the colony of sarepta endured great calamities in the beginning. in , the period of the famous emigration of the kalmucks, the brethren had a narrow escape of being carried into captivity, and were saved only by the mildness of the winter, which prevented their enemies from crossing the volga and joining the great horde. the cossack pougatchef ravaged the whole country in , and the colonists, in number, including women, were obliged to retreat to astrakhan. the defeat of the rebel shortly afterwards enabled them to return home. their town had been destroyed, but they were not disheartened, and it soon rose again from its ruins. a whole street was burned down in sarepta in , and in the same year they lost their warehouses in moscow, containing an immense stock of goods, in the great conflagration. but the most terrible disaster was that of , when two-thirds of the colony and the largest establishments were reduced to ashes; the loss was estimated at upwards of , _l._ the emperor alexander and the moravian association afforded the poor colonists generous aid, but they could never restore the old prosperity of sarepta. all these heavy blows falling successively on the unfortunate community, did not, however, prevent the development of its industry. great activity prevailed in its very various manufactories down to the beginning of the present century, and their productions continued to be in request in all parts of russia. some of the brethren established in the great towns of the empire were the active and honest correspondents of the volga colonists. the silks and cottons of sarepta were so successful that the weavers of that town formed establishments at their own cost among the german colonies of the government of saratof.[ ] but all these elements of wealth were annihilated by the new customs' regulations; most of the manufactories were closed; as for the rest, with one or two exceptions, being obliged to confine themselves to the production of a small number of articles, they can only subsist by dint of great economy and skill. the difficulty, too, of procuring workmen makes labour extremely dear in sarepta; and besides this the colonists instead of importing the raw materials direct from the foreigner, are obliged to purchase them in the markets of st. petersburg and moscow. the decrease in the waters of the sarpa has also been disastrous to the trade of sarepta. the brethren had set up a great number of saw and other mills on the banks, and these brought them large profits; but the want of water caused them all to be abandoned in . in noticing this continual struggle of man against nature and events, we cannot but pay the tribute of our admiration to those intrepid colonists, who, on the furthest verge of europe, in the arid steppes of the volga, have never suffered themselves to be overcome by their mischances, but have always found fresh resources in their own energy and perseverance. the manufacture of mustard is at present the most important branch of business in sarepta, producing nearly , kilogrammes yearly, besides kilogrammes of oil. this trade is not unimportant to the neighbouring villages, since it uses upon an average every year , kilogrammes of mustard seed, for which the manufacturer pays the peasant at the rate of . rubles the poud or thirty-three pounds. the other trades that are still carried on with some degree of success are the manufactures of silk and cotton tissues, stockings and caps, tobacco and tanned leather, but these are all upon a greatly reduced scale and at a greatly diminished rate of profit. there is also a very clever optician in sarepta, and there are several confectioners who travel to moscow. the colony possesses also warehouses of manufactured goods, and offers almost all the resources and conveniences of a good european town. agriculture can only be a secondary matter in the colony; of the , deciatines of land possessed by it are quite unfit for cultivation, , are salt, and only are really good. there is, however, a little village named schönbrunn, not far from the town, in which there are some families engaged in agriculture and cattle rearing. merino sheep have not done well with them hitherto. they had a large stock some years ago, but it dwindled away either from mismanagement, or from the severity of the climate, and at present does not exceed head. the brethren possess also numerous gardens along the sarpa, irrigated by water wheels, and producing all sorts of fruits and plants, but chiefly tobacco, and latterly indigo, which will no doubt become of great importance to the colony. the little town of sarepta has not changed much within the last eighty years: its buildings still present the same appearance as they did some years after the foundation of the colony; but the great industrial movements of former times have deserted it, and its streets are become lonely and silent. the fountain still flows on the same spot, and is still shaded by the same trees; but the blackened walls of the two finest manufactories, burnt down in the terrible fire of , and which the colonists have never been able to rebuild, make a singularly painful impression on the beholder, and tell too plainly that in spite of their courage and industry, events have been too strong for the moravians. all travellers who visit sarepta, and have an opportunity of appreciating the worth of its inhabitants, will certainly desire from their hearts a return of prosperity to this interesting colony: unhappily it is not probable that these wishes will be very speedily realised. the moravian community has augmented but little since ; for in it comprised but souls, viz., men and women; and even of these, only one half were natives of sarepta, the remainder being immigrants from abroad. many causes combine to keep down the population. in the first place, no colonist is allowed to marry, until he can prove the sufficiency of his means; both men and women, therefore, marry late in life, and large families are extremely rare. again, no brother can marry, if his doing so would cause any detriment to another; and all those who, by their misconduct, in any degree disturb the order and tranquillity of the colony, are banished and put out of the association. a sort of passport is given them for the government of saratof, and then they are at liberty either to enrol themselves as government colonists, or to enjoy their privileges as foreigners. lastly, after the great fire of , many of the brethren, discouraged by the loss of their all, left sarepta, and went to reside elsewhere. all these reasons, sufficiently account for the stationary condition of the population. of strangers to the association, there are in sarepta, thirty families of work people from the german colonies of saratof, forty russians, and twenty tatars; some fifty kalmuck kibitkas (tents) supply labourers for the gardens and for other works. there are now fifty-six stone and wooden houses in sarepta, and outside it, one stone and forty-nine wooden. its public buildings, are a church, with an organ and a belfry, and three large workhouses for bachelors, widows, and girls. these serve at the same time as asylums for orphans, and for all persons who have no families. there are also schools for the young of both sexes, in which the course of instruction is rather extensive, and includes the german, russian, and french languages, history, geography, and elementary mathematics. at first, sarepta was surrounded with ditches and ramparts, supplied with artillery and defended by a detachment of cossacks; but these military displays have long disappeared, and the worthy moravians are left alone to their own peaceful pursuits. in describing this interesting colony, we must not forget its numerous and delicious fountains. every street, every house has its own, the water being conveyed by wooden pipes underground into a common reservoir, whence it is distributed to all parts. nor will it be without a keen feeling of satisfaction that the weary traveller will stop at the sarepta hotel, where he will find a good bed and a good table, excellent wine, and all the comforts he can desire. the moravian brethren of sarepta justly enjoy much more extensive privileges than all the other colonists of russia: they pay to the crown but a slight tax per deciatine of land; and they have the right of trading in all parts of the empire and to foreign parts, as first guild merchants without paying any dues. they have their own perfectly separate administration, and all litigated affairs among them are settled by themselves, without the interference of any russian tribunal: if any disputes arise between them and their neighbours, they have recourse to the general committee of the german colonies of saratof, or in matters of weight, to the ministry in st. petersburg, through one of their brethren, who resides there as their agent. in cases of murder alone, they deliver over the criminal to the russian authorities. banishment is usually the sentence pronounced for other offences by the tribunal of the association, which consists of a mayor and two assistants, elected by the community, and who act also as administrators of the colony, and have under their orders an officer, who is responsible for all things pertaining to the town and country police. the public revenue is , rubles, produced by the rent of the fisheries and by special taxes; this money is spent in keeping up the public buildings, the schools, workhouses, &c. the habits of these colonists, their amount of education, and their religious principles, make a marked distinction between them and all the other germans in russia. we have seen few sectarians whose religious views are characterised by so much sound sense. while discharging their duties with the most scrupulous exactness, they avail themselves of the good things granted them by providence, live in a liberal and commodious manner, and surround themselves with all that can render life easy and agreeable. what struck us most of all, was to find invariably in the mere workman as well as in the wealthy manufacturer, a well-bred, well-informed man, of elegant manners and appearance, and engaging conversation. we spent but a few days in the colony, but our knowledge of the german language, enabled us quickly to acquire the friendship of the principal inhabitants; and when we left the town, our carriage was surrounded by a great number of those worthy people who came to bid us a last farewell, and to wish us a pleasant journey through the wild steppes of the kalmucks. footnotes: [ ] the german colonies of the government of saratof consist of villages, with a population of , ; in they produced , hectolitres of wheat, worth , paper rubles, and tobacco to the value of , . chapter xix. first kalmuck encampments--the volga--astrakhan--visit to a kalmuck prince--music, dancing, costume, &c.--equestrian feats--religious ceremony--poetry. at eight in the evening we left sarepta, delighted in the highest degree with the good moravian brethren, and the cordial hospitality they had shown us. at some distance from the colony, a dull white line, scarcely distinguishable through the gloom, announced the presence of the volga. we followed its course all night, catching a glimpse of it from time to time by the faint glimmering of the stars, and by numerous lights along its banks; these were fishermen's lanterns. there was an originality in the whole region that strongly impressed our imaginations. those numerous lights, flitting every moment from place to place, were like the will o' the wisp that beguiles the benighted traveller; and then the kalmuck encampments with their black masses that seemed to glide over the surface of the steppe; the darkness of the night; the speed with which our troïka bore us over the boundless plain; the shrill tinklings of the horse bells, and above all, the thought that we were in the land of the kalmucks, wrought us up to a state of nervous excitement that made us see every thing in the hues of fancy. at daybreak, our eyes were bent eagerly on the volga, that gleamed in the colours of the morning sky. from the plateau where we were, we could see the whole country, and it may easily be conceived with what admiration we gazed on the calm majestic stream, and its multitude of islands clothed with alders and aspens. on the other side of the river, the steppes where the khirgises and kalmucks encamp, stretched away as far as the eye could reach, till bounded by a horizon as even as that of the ocean. it would have been difficult to conceive a more majestic spectacle, or one more in harmony with the ideas evoked by the volga, to which its course of more than six hundred leagues assigns the foremost rank among the great rivers of europe. the post-road, which skirts the river as far as astrakhan, is difficult, and often dangerous. our driver was constantly turning his horses into the water, to prevent their sinking in a soil that undulates like the sea with every breath of wind. at intervals we encountered cossack villages almost buried under sandy billows, and many cabins entirely abandoned. this encroachment of the sands, which increases every year in extent, will soon change the already dreary banks of the volga into a real desert. no one can behold the sterility and desolation of these regions, without marvelling at the patience with which the cossacks endure a visitation that from year to year drives them from their cabins, and compels them to build new ones. for a length of more than sixty versts, the traveller finds his route shut in between the bed of the river, and moving hills of sand, whose dead monotony has a most depressing effect on the spirits. it is still worse at night, for then he seems surrounded with perils. no wonder if fear possesses him when he thinks that a plundering nomade horde may be lying in ambush behind those defiles which the darkness renders still more menacing; the cossack posts, however, which he meets from time to time along his road, contribute greatly to quiet his apprehensions. these cossacks were originally from the don, and were sent by the government to defend the frontiers of the volga against the incursions of the nomades. settling with their families, they founded several villages, and afterwards peopled samara, saratof, and other towns. there remains of these colonists only a military population, whose duty is limited to watching the movements of the khirgises from a distance, and protecting travellers. the soil affords them no means of practising agriculture, but they supply their wants by fishing. since our departure from sarepta, we were much surprised to find on this little frequented route much better horses than are met with on the main post-roads; the stations too seemed larger, more commodious and elegant, and every thing about them betokened attentive care on the part of the government. as we approached astrakhan, the sand-hills diminished insensibly in height, until they no longer confined the view. all this part of the steppe is bare of wood, and the salt sandy waste is only spotted here and there with pools of water and patches of wormwood. no sound is heard but the shrill cries of the petrels and wild geese that haunt the edges of the pools. here and there only we encountered numerous herds of camels going to drink the clear water of the volga, or wandering among the kalmuck kibitkas scattered over the steppes. at the last station but one, we were startled from our breakfast by the sound of military music, which for a moment threw the whole house into a state of revolution. we were ourselves very much puzzled to know what it meant, and jumping up from table we ran and saw--what? a steamer, no less, puffing and smoking, and lashing the astonished waters of the calm volga into foam. gay flags flaunted over its deck, which was crowded with passengers, and whence proceeded the sounds that had so surprised us. it passed before us, i will not say proudly, but very clumsily, by no means skimming along the water like a swallow. when we saw the crowded state of the deck, a thought struck us that the matter in some degree concerned ourselves, for as the steamer was from astrakhan, it was to be presumed that it carried several persons we had expected to see there. but our conjectures fell short of the reality, and our consternation was extreme, when the postmaster told us that the boat was conveying all the good society of astrakhan on a visit to a kalmuck prince, whose custom it was to give splendid entertainments at that season of the year. what made the thing still more vexatious, was, that many persons had already talked to us about the said prince, and strongly recommended us to go and see him. there could not have been a more favourable opportunity for indulging our curiosity; but we were compelled to forego it for want of a _podoroshni_[ ] entitling us to have horses on our way back. the russians are such rigid sticklers for forms, that nothing but strong motives of interest can make them swerve from the letter of their instructions. now it happened by a singular piece of ill-luck that our postmaster was an honest man after his fashion; that is to say, he would not depart a hair's breadth from his regulations to please any one. his stupid obstinacy was proof against all solicitations and bribes, and we gave up the tempting project of visiting the prince, whose palace we had passed a few hours before, about forty versts from the station. our best course under the circumstances would have been to hail the steamer, and go on board of it, but we did not think of this until we had lost much time with the postmaster, and then it was too late to overtake the steamer, notwithstanding its slow rate of moving. when we afterwards related our mischances to the governor of astrakhan, he blamed us much for not having at once thought of so simple an expedient. about four o'clock p.m. the same day, we came in sight of astrakhan. i cannot describe our sensations when from a large boat in which we embarked, we beheld the fine panorama of the city, its churches, cupolas, and ruined forts gradually coming forth to the view. situated in an island of the volga, its environs are not covered like those of most great cities, with villages and cultivated fields: no, it stands alone, surrounded by water and sand, proud of its sovereignty over the noble river, and of the name of star of the desert, with which the poetic imagination of the orientals has graced it. we had great difficulty in finding a lodging after we had landed, and though assisted by a police officer, we spent more than two hours in wandering from place to place, everywhere meeting with refusals. we were about cutting short our perplexities by taking refuge in a persian caravanserai, when chance came to our aid. a polish lady whom we fell in with, offered us the accommodation of her house, and with such good grace, that we could not hesitate to accept her civility. besides, our travels in russia had accustomed us to the sympathy with which every thing french is greeted by the poles. the last political events have not yet been able to weaken their good will towards us; they regard us as brethren, and are ready to prove it on all occasions. except some crown buildings occupied by the _employés_, there is nothing in astrakhan to remind us of its being under foreign sway. the town has completely preserved the asiatic physiognomy it owes to its climate, its past history, and its diversified population. it is built partly on a hill, partly on the plain, and several of its oldest portions stand on low spots intersected with marshes, and are exposed to very unwholesome exhalations during the summer, after the river floods. a canal with quays runs through its whole length. my husband's first proceeding after a hurried installation in our new quarters, was to call on m. fadier, the curator-general of the kalmucks, and try to obtain a _podoroshni_ as quickly as possible. he came back in an hour, and told me that we were to start that evening in a boat belonging to the admiralty, which was placed at our disposal. the governor, m. fadier, the port-admiral, and all the superior society of the place were visiting the prince, as we had before been told; but madame fadier had been kept at home by indisposition, and that lady, whose name will frequently appear in our reminiscences of astrakhan, obligingly removed all our difficulties. we embarked in the evening in the boat, with a crew of six stout kalmuck rowers and a tatta pilot. we expected to arrive at the prince's in the morning; but by some unaccountable chance i was seized all at once with a dread that obliged us to halt, in spite of our eager desire to reach our journey's end. the night was very dark, and the river, the waves of which made our boat reel, seemed to me boundless; yet all this was not enough to account for the insurmountable terror that took hold of me so capriciously. many sea-voyages and long excursions on the bosphorus in those light caïques that threaten to upset with the slightest movement, ought to have seasoned me against such emotions; but fear is a sentiment that cannot reason, and that comes upon us unawares, without any real danger to justify it. i must add, however, in palliation of my conduct, that the frequent lightning and the heaviness of the atmosphere foretold a storm; and no doubt had something to do with the nervous state in which i found myself. be this as it may, i could not rest until i had heard my husband give orders to put back into port, and the sequel proved that this was really the best thing we could do. the night was horrible: one of those terrific squalls that are so frequent and so dangerous on the volga, came on soon after we landed, and made me bless that terror of which i was at first ashamed, and which i was now tempted to regard as a secret presentiment of the danger that threatened us. at sunrise next day we set out by the post, and travelled till evening along that river on which i had been so much agitated. its appearance in the fresh, calm morning was little in accordance with my terror on the preceding day. the weather showed that brilliancy that always follows a storm in southern lands, and our spirits were such as to make our little trip exceedingly agreeable. the postmaster who had annoyed us so much the preceding day, could not help showing great surprise at our reappearance. he examined our new _podoroshni_ with scrupulous care, and having satisfied himself that it was quite as it ought to be, he was suddenly seized with great respect for us. the quickness with which we had obtained the paper, was plain proof to him that we were persons of importance. we left our post-carriage in the evening, and embarked; for we had still a dozen versts to travel on the river before reaching the prince's; but all the phantoms of the previous night had fled before the bright sun, and i stepped gaily into the boat thinking only of the pleasure of a long row over the limpid waves of the volga. but now a last vexation befel us; one would have fancied some evil genius was amusing himself with baffling all our arrangements, merely for the purpose of preventing our paying that visit on which we were so eagerly bent. our whole desire was to arrive at the prince's before the departure of the steamer; for as for the fêtes, we had already given up all thought of them. from what madame fadier had told us we were quite at ease, and never doubted but that we should find the whole company assembled in the kalmuck palace. fancy our dismay then, when our boatman suddenly called out 'the steamer!' pointing at the same time to a light smoke that rose above the trees. i am not very prone to superstition, but this obvious fatality was too much for my philosophy. here was the best part of the pleasure we had anticipated from this unlucky trip, struck from us at one blow, and that at the very moment when we flattered ourselves we had overcome all obstacles! the steamer passed proudly and triumphantly at a little distance from us, with its joyous music that seemed to insult our disappointment, and our poor little boat, tossed about like a nutshell by the surge of the confounded vessel, had not even the honour of being seen at first. some one at last condescended to notice us; a telescope was pointed in our direction, and we afterwards learned that our appearance gave rise to a multitude of conjectures, which, of course, were solved only in astrakhan. nothing remained for us but to bear our fate with philosophical composure; and we did so with the confident belief that luck, which had hitherto run so decidedly against us, must soon take a turn in our favour. forgetting, therefore, the steamboat, its music, and its brilliant company, we applied all our attention to the spectacle before us, which was certainly much better worth seeing than the prosaic steamer. the little island belonging to prince tumene stands alone in the middle of the river. from a distance it looks like a nest of verdure resting on the waves, and waiting only a breath of wind to send it floating down the rapid course of the volga; but, as you advance, the land unfolds before you, the trees form themselves into groups, and the prince's palace displays a portion of its white façade, and the open galleries of its turrets. every object assumes a more decided and more picturesque form, and stands out in clear relief, from the cupola of the mysterious pagoda which you see towering above the trees, to the humble kibitka glittering in the magic tints of sunset. the landscape, as it presented itself successively to our eyes, with the unruffled mirror of the volga for its framework, wore a calm, but strange and profoundly melancholy character. it was like nothing we had ever seen before; it was a new world which fancy might people as it pleased; one of those mysterious isles one dreams of at fifteen after reading the "arabian nights;" a thing, in short, such as crosses the traveller's path but once in all his wanderings, and which we enjoyed with all the zest of unexpected pleasure. but we were soon called back from all these charming phantoms of the imagination to the realities of life? we were arrived. our boatman moored his little craft in a clump of thornbroom; and whilst my husband proceeded to the palace with his interpreter, i remained in the boat, divided between the pleasure i anticipated from the extraordinary things to be seen in a kalmuck palace, and the involuntary apprehension awakened in me by all the incidents of this visit. the latter feeling did not last long. not many minutes had elapsed after the departure of my companions, when i saw them returning with a young man, who was presented to me as one of the princes tumene. it was with equal elegance and good breeding he introduced me to the palace, where every step brought me some new surprise. i was quite unprepared for what i saw; and really in passing through two salons which united the most finished display of european taste with the gorgeousness of asia, on being suddenly accosted by a young lady who welcomed me in excellent french, i felt such a thrill of delight, that i could only answer by embracing her heartily! in this manner an acquaintance is quickly made. the room where we took tea was soon filled with russian and cossack officers, guests of the prince's, and thus assumed a european aspect which we had not at all expected after the departure of the steamer. but was this what we had come to see? was it to look at russian officers, and articles of furniture of well known fashion, to take caravan tea off a silver tray, and talk french, that we had left astrakhan? these reflections soon yielded to the secret pleasure of meeting the image of europe even among the kalmucks, and being able without the aid of a dragoman to testify to the charming polish lady who did the honours of the drawing-room, the gratification her presence afforded us. the old prince tumene, the head of the family, joined us by and by, and thanked us with the most exquisite politeness for our obliging visit. after the first civilities were over, i was conducted to a very handsome chamber, with windows opening on a large verandah. i found in it a toilette apparatus in silver, very elegant furniture, and many objects both rare and precious. my surprise augmented continually as i beheld this aristocratic sumptuousness. in vain i looked for any thing that could remind me of the kalmucks; nothing around me had a tinge of _couleur locale_; all seemed rather to bespeak the abode of a rich asiatic nabob; and with a little effort of imagination, i might easily have fancied myself transported into the marvellous world of the fairies, as i beheld that magnificent palace encircled with water, with its exterior fretted all over with balconies and fantastic ornaments, and its interior all filled with velvets, tapestries, and crystals, as though the touch of a wand had made all these wonders start from the bosom of the volga! and what completed the illusion was the thought that the author of these prodigies was a kalmuck prince, a chief of those half-savage tribes that wander over the sandy plains of the caspian sea, a worshipper of the grand lama, a believer in the metempsychosis; in short, one of those beings whose existence seems to us almost fabulous, such a host of mysterious legends do their names awaken in the mind. madame zakarevitch soon made me acquainted with all i wished to know respecting the princes tumene and herself. her husband, who had long been curator of the kalmucks, died some years ago, a victim to the integrity with which he discharged his office. the employés, enraged at not being able to rob at their ease, combined together to have him brought to trial and persecuted him to his last moment with their base intrigues. his wife, who has all the impassioned character of the poles, has ever since been actively engaged in vindication of his memory, devoting time, money, and toilsome journeys, with admirable perseverance to that sacred task. a friendship of long standing subsists between her and prince tumene, with whose daughter and a lady companion she usually passes part of the summer. prince tumene is the wealthiest and most influential of all the kalmuck chiefs. in he raised a regiment at his own expense, and led it to paris, for which meritorious service he was rewarded with numerous decorations. he has now the rank of colonel, and he was the first of this nomade people who exchanged his kibitka for an european dwelling. absolute master in his own family (among the kalmucks the same respect is paid to the eldest brother as to the father), he employs his authority only for the good of those around him. he possesses about a million deciatines of land, and several hundred families, from which he derives a considerable revenue. his race, which belongs to the tribe of the koshots, is one of the most ancient and respected among the kalmucks. repeatedly tried by severe afflictions, his mind has taken an exclusively religious bent, and the superstitious practices to which he devotes himself give him a great reputation for sanctity among his countrymen. an isolated pavilion at some distance from the palace is his habitual abode, where he passes his life in prayer and religious conference with the most celebrated priests of the country. no one but these latter is allowed admission into his mysterious sanctuary; even his brothers have never entered it. this is assuredly a singular mode of existence, especially if we compare it with that which he might lead amidst the splendour and conveniences with which he has embellished his palace, and which betoken a cast of thought far superior to what we should expect to find in a kalmuck. this voluntary sacrifice of earthly delights, this asceticism caused by moral sufferings, strikingly reminds us of christianity and the origin of our religious orders. like the most fervent catholics, this votary of lama seeks in solitude, prayer, austerity, and the hope of another life, consolations which all his fortune is powerless to afford him! is not this the history of many a trappist or carthusian? the position of the palace is exquisitely chosen, and shows a sense of the beautiful as developed as that of the most civilised nations. it is built in the chinese style, and is prettily seated on the gentle slope of a hill about a hundred feet from the volga. its numerous galleries afford views over every part of the isle, and the imposing surface of the river. from one of the angles the eye looks down on a mass of foliage, through which glitter the cupola and golden ball of the pagoda. beautiful meadows, dotted over with clumps of trees, and fields in high cultivation, unfold their carpets of verdure on the left of the palace, and form different landscapes which the eye can take in at once. the whole is enlivened by the presence of kalmuck horsemen, camels wandering here and there through the rich pastures, and officers conveying the chief's orders from tent to tent. it is a beautiful spectacle, various in its details, and no less harmonious in its assemblage. after learning the reasons why we had not arrived two days sooner, madame zakarevitch very agreeably surprised us with the assurance that it was the prince's intention to have the _fêtes_ repeated for us. couriers had already been despatched to bring back the priests who had been engaged in the solemnities of the occasion, in order that we might have an opportunity of seeing their religious ceremonies. the day being now far advanced, we spent the remainder of it in visiting the palace in detail, and resting from the fatigues of our journey. at an early hour next day, madame zakarevitch came to accompany us to the prince's sister-in-law, who, during the fine season, resides in the kibitka in preference to the palace. nothing could be more agreeable to us than this proposal. at last then i was about to see kalmuck manners and customs without any foreign admixture. on the way i learned that the princess was renowned among her people for extreme beauty and accomplishments, besides many other details which contributed further to augment my curiosity. we formed a tolerably large party when we reached her tent, and as she had been informed of our intended visit, we enjoyed, on entering, a spectacle that far surpassed our anticipations. when the curtain at the doorway of the kibitka was raised, we found ourselves in a rather spacious room, lighted from above, and hung with red damask, the reflection from which shed a glowing tint on every object; the floor was covered with a rich turkey carpet, and the air was loaded with perfumes. in this balmy atmosphere and crimson light we perceived the princess seated on a low platform at the further end of the tent, dressed in glistening robes, and as motionless as an idol. some twenty women in full dress, sitting on their heels, formed a strange and parti-coloured circle round her. it was like nothing i could compare it to but an opera scene suddenly got up on the banks of the volga. when the princess had allowed us time enough to admire her, she slowly descended the steps of the platform, approached us with dignity, took me by the hand, embraced me affectionately, and led me to the place she had just left. she did the same by madame zakarevitch and her daughter, and then graciously saluting the persons who accompanied us, she motioned them to be seated on a large divan opposite the platform. no mistress of a house in paris could have done better. when every one had found a place, she sat down beside me, and through the medium of an armenian, who spoke russian and kalmuck extremely well, she made me a thousand compliments, that gave me a very high opinion of her capacity. with the armenian's assistance we were able to put many questions to each other, and notwithstanding the awkwardness of being obliged to have recourse to an interpreter, the conversation was far from growing languid, so eager was the princess for information of every kind. the armenian, who was a merry soul, constituted himself, of his own authority, grand master of the ceremonies, and commenced his functions by advising the princess to give orders for the opening of the ball. immediately upon a sign from the latter, one of the ladies of honour rose and performed a few steps, turning slowly upon herself; whilst another, who remained seated, drew forth from a balalaika (an oriental guitar) some melancholy sounds, by no means appropriate to the occasion. nor were the attitudes and movements of her companion more accordant with our notions of dancing. they formed a pantomime, the meaning of which i could not ascertain, but which, by its languishing monotony, expressed any thing but pleasure or gaiety. the young _figurante_ frequently stretched out her arms and knelt down as if to invoke some invisible being. the performance lasted a considerable time, during which i had full opportunity to scrutinise the princess, and saw good reason to justify the high renown in which her beauty was held among her own people. her figure is imposing, and extremely well-proportioned, as far as her numerous garments allowed me to judge. her mouth, finely arched and adorned with beautiful teeth, her countenance, expressive of great sweetness, her skin, somewhat brown, but remarkably delicate, would entitle her to be thought a very handsome woman, even in france, if the outline of her face and the arrangement of her features were only a trifle less kalmuck. nevertheless, in spite of the obliquity of her eyes and the prominence of her cheek-bones, she would still find many an admirer, not in kalmuckia alone, but all the world over. her looks convey an expression of the utmost gentleness and good-nature, and like all the women of her race, she has an air of caressing humility, which makes her appearance still more winning. now for her costume. over a very rich robe of persian stuff, laced all over with silver, she wore a light silk tunic, reaching only to the knee and open in front. the high corsage was quite flat, and glittered with silver embroidery and fine pearls that covered all the seams. round her neck she had a white cambric habit shirt, the shape of which seemed to me like that of a man's shirt collar. it was fastened in front by a diamond button. her very thick, deep black hair fell over her bosom in two magnificent tresses of remarkable length. a yellow cap, edged with rich fur, and resembling in shape the square cap of a french judge, was set jauntily on the crown of her head. but what surprised me most in her costume was an embroidered cambric handkerchief and a pair of black mittens. thus, it appears, the productions of our workshops find their way even to the toilette of a great kalmuck lady. among the princess's ornaments i must not forget to enumerate a large gold chain, which, after being wound round her beautiful tresses, fell over her bosom, passing on its way through her gold earrings. her whole attire, such as i have described it, looked much less barbarous than i had expected. the ladies of honour, though less richly clad, wore robes and caps of the same form; only they had not advanced so far as to wear mittens. the dancing lady, after figuring for half an hour, went and touched the shoulder of one of her companions, who took her place, and began the same figures over again. when she had done, the armenian urged the princess that her daughter, who until then had kept herself concealed behind a curtain, should also give a specimen of her skill; but there was a difficulty in the case. no lady of honour had a right to touch her, and this formality was indispensable according to established usage. not to be baffled by this obstacle, the armenian sprang gaily into the middle of the circle, and began to dance in so original a manner, that every one enthusiastically applauded. having thus satisfied the exigency of kalmuck etiquette, he stepped up to the curtain and laid his finger lightly on the shoulder of the young lady, who could not refuse an invitation thus made in all due form. her dancing appeared to us less wearisome than that of the ladies of honour, thanks to her pretty face and her timid and languishing attitudes. she in her turn touched her brother, a handsome lad of fifteen, dressed in the cossack costume, who appeared exceedingly mortified at being obliged to put a kalmuck cap on his head, in order to exhibit the dance in all its nationality. twice he dashed his cap on the ground with a most comical air of vexation; but his mother rigidly insisted on his putting it on again. the dancing of the men is as imperious and animated as that of the women is tame and monotonous; the spirit of domination displays itself in all their gestures, in the bold expression of their looks and their noble bearing. it would be impossible for me to describe all the evolutions the young prince went through with equal grace and rapidity. the elasticity of his limbs was as remarkable as the perfect measure observed in his complicated steps. after the ball came the concert. the women played one after the other on the balalaika, and then sang in chorus. but there is as little variety in their music as in their dancing. at last we were presented with different kinds of koumis and sweetmeats on large silver trays. when we came out from the kibitka, the princess's brother-in-law took us to a herd of wild horses, where one of the most extraordinary scenes awaited us. the moment we were perceived, five or six mounted men, armed with long lassoes, rushed into the middle of the _taboun_ (herd of horses), keeping their eyes constantly fixed on the young prince, who was to point out the animal they should seize. the signal being given, they instantly galloped forward and noosed a young horse with a long dishevelled mane, whose dilated eyes and smoking nostrils betokened inexpressible terror. a lightly-clad kalmuck, who followed them on foot, immediately sprang upon the stallion, cut the thongs that were throttling him, and engaged with him in an incredible contest of daring and agility. it would be impossible, i think, for any spectacle more vividly to affect the mind than that which now met our eyes. sometimes the rider and his horse rolled together on the grass; sometimes they shot through the air with the speed of an arrow, and then stopped abruptly, as if a wall had all at once risen up before them. on a sudden the furious animal would crawl on its belly, or rear in a manner that made us shriek with terror, then plunging forward again in his mad gallop he would dash through the taboun, and endeavour in every possible way to shake off his novel burden. but this exercise, violent and dangerous as it appeared to us, seemed but sport to the kalmuck, whose body followed all the movements of the animal with so much suppleness, that one would have fancied that the same thought possessed both bodies. the sweat poured in foaming streams from the stallion's flanks, and he trembled in every limb. as for the rider, his coolness would have put to shame the most accomplished horsemen in europe. in the most critical moments he still found himself at liberty to wave his arms in token of triumph; and in spite of the indomitable humour of his steed, he had sufficient command over it to keep it almost always within the circle of our vision. at a signal from the prince, two horsemen, who had kept as close as possible to the daring centaur, seized him with amazing quickness, and galloped away with him before we had time to comprehend this new manoeuvre. the horse, for a moment stupefied, soon made off at full speed, and was lost in the midst of the herd. these performances were repeated several times without a single rider suffering himself to be thrown. but what was our amazement when we saw a boy of ten years come forward to undertake the same exploit! they selected for him a young white stallion of great size, whose fiery bounds and desperate efforts to break his bonds, indicated a most violent temper. i will not attempt to depict our intense emotions during this new conflict. this child, who, like the other riders, had only the horse's mane to cling to, afforded an example of the power of reasoning over instinct and brute force. for some minutes he maintained his difficult position with heroic intrepidity. at last, to our great relief, a horseman rode up to him, caught him up in his outstretched arm, and threw him on the croup behind him. 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 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. we finished our _soirée_ with an extemporaneous ball that lasted all night. the armenian, who first proposed the scheme, had to undertake the business of getting up an orchestra. i know not how he set about it, but in a few minutes he brought us triumphantly a violin, a guitar, and a flageolet. such instruments among the kalmucks--is it not really prodigious? we had quickly arranged a _soirée dansante_, as complete as any drawing-room could exhibit; and the merriment soon became so contagious, that the princess and her daughter, after much hesitation, at last overcame all bashfulness, and bravely threw themselves into a heady gallop, in which, by the by, one of them lost her cap. the wondering and delighted princess, stuck to me for the rest of the night, like my shadow, and incessantly assured me, through the armenian, that she had never in her life passed so pleasant an evening, and that she would never forget it. she expressed a strong desire to hear me sing, and found the french _romances_ so much to her taste, that i had to promise i would copy out some of them for her. on her part, she gave me two kalmuck songs of her own composition, and transcribed with her own hand.[ ] according to russian custom, the officers did full justice to the champagne, which was sent round all night at a fearful rate. we spent the next day in promenades about the island, and in hawking. this sport is a great favourite with the kalmucks, and they practise it in as grand a style as the châtelains of the middle ages. prince tumene has a very well appointed falconry, and his hawks are trained by the same methods as were adopted by our ancestors. the hawk we had that day was a small one, of astonishing spirit. the kalmuck who held it hoodwinked on his fist had the utmost difficulty in restraining it when its head was uncovered. he let it fly at a magnificent grey heron, which it struck down in less than a minute. several wild ducks were also killed by it with incredible rapidity. the succeeding days were filled up with varied and novel amusements; nor can i describe the assiduous efforts of our entertainers, to let us see every particular of their manners and customs that might be interesting to us. every day some new surprise was adroitly brought forward to delay our departure. but, alas! every thing must have an end in this world, and we felt at last constrained to bid adieu to those brilliant and varied scenes which we found so much to our taste. on the day fixed for our departure we all breakfasted together, while the final preparations were going on. the party was a sad one, for all were occupied with the same thought. our host's elegant four-in-hand equipage, lined with white satin, was drawn up before the door, with an escort of fifteen horsemen. there was a large crowd assembled, who looked up eagerly to the large balcony, where we were receiving the stirrup-cup from the old prince. the whole formed a striking and splendid picture. the refinements of western luxury, mixed up with kalmuck faces and costumes, the officers in brilliant uniforms, the handsome horses champing the bit, and, above all, the noble figure of the old prince waving a last farewell to us from the balcony, left an indelible impression on our memories. young tumene put himself at the head of the cavalcade, and continued during all the while he was with us to astonish us with his feats of horsemanship. the day was splendid, and every thing concurred to awaken in us a throng of sensations, such as we shall never, perhaps, experience again. madame zakarevitch and her daughter, whom we had carried off from prince tumene, embarked with us, opposite the posting station, in the boat provided for us. on the shore, too, we found our carriages ready to receive us, horses having been ordered by an express sent forward the day before by the prince. on finding ourselves again on that route which we had twice already traversed within less than twenty-four hours, the recollection of our past annoyances after recurred to us, and we could not help thinking how unwisely many travellers allow themselves to be swayed by what they call inauspicious omens; a person, for instance, with a slight leaning to superstition, would have given up all thoughts of a visit which seemed forbidden by such a run of unlucky accidents, and would have lost the opportunity of seeing the extraordinary things i have endeavoured to describe, and which so much exceeded our expectations. footnotes: [ ] a sort of passport licensing you to hire post-horses. you pay a sum for it proportioned to the distance you wish to travel, and the number of horses to your carriage. [ ] here is a translation of one of these songs, which will certainly not give a high idea of the poetic talents of a kalmuck princess:-- "mon cheval roux qui dispute le prix de la course au chameau, bronte l'herbe des champs du don. dieu notre seigneur, tu nous feras la grace de nous retrouver dans une autre contrée. et toi charmante herbette agitée par le vent, tu t'étends sur la terre. et toi, o coeur le plus tendre volant vers ma mère, dis lui: qu'entre deux montagnes et des vallées, dans un vallon uni demeurent cinquante braves qui s'approchent avec courage pour tuer une outarde bien grasse. et toi, tendre mère nature, sois nous propice." [it is with much hesitation and doubt, that i venture to translate this incomprehensible translation:--_tr._] "my bright bay horse, which vies in swiftness with the camel, browses on the grass of the don. god, our lord, thou wilt grant us of thy grace to meet in another country. and thou charming little grass shaken by the wind, thou stretchest thyself out on the ground. and thou, o fondest heart, flying to my mother, tell her that between two mountains and valleys, in an even strath, dwell fifty braves, who draw together courageously to kill a very fat bustard. and thou, fond mother nature be propitious to us." chapter xx. historical notice of astrakhan--mixed population; armenians, tatars--singular result of a mixture of races--description of the town--hindu religious ceremonies--society. the history of astrakhan is so well known that the reader will no doubt thank us for not recapitulating the various political revolutions that have taken place in the regions of which this town has been for so many ages the brilliant metropolis. after having made part of the empire of the kaptshak, founded by batou khan, and after a long series of intestine commotions, astrakhan at last became an independent state in the beginning of the fifteenth century. one hundred and fifty years later there broke out between the russians and the tatars that obstinate strife which was to end by delivering the country of the tsars from the yoke of its oppressors. in , ivan the terrible, partly by treachery, and partly by force of arms, possessed himself of the khanat of the caspian, and was the first to assume the title of king of casan and astrakhan. this valuable conquest was incorporated with the empire, and led to the submission or emigration of all the adjacent tribes. astrakhan has ever since belonged to russia; but it soon lost the prosperity that had rendered it so celebrated of yore under the tatars of the golden horde. fifteen years after the russian conquest, the turks directed an expedition against astrakhan, in concert with the tatars of the crimea; but the effort was abortive, and the bulk of the ottoman army perished in the deserts of the manitch. towards the end of the seventeenth century, astrakhan again underwent a brief but bloody revolution: the rebel stenko razin, made himself master of the town, gave it up to horrible massacres, and for a while caused serious alarm to russia. at present the ancient capital of the tatar kingdom is merely the chief town of a government, which though presenting a surface of more than geographical square miles, yet possesses only , inhabitants, of whom , are nomades. it contains a great number of squares, churches, and mosques. its old embattled towers and its walls, which still include a considerable space of ground, remind the traveller of its ancient warlike renown. its population, a medley of all the races of asia, amounts in number to , , the bulk of whom are russians, kalmucks, and tatars. the armenians are shopkeepers here, just as they are in all countries in the world; notwithstanding their religion, which should make them coalesce with the westerns, they retain in their manners and customs every thing belonging to the east. the armenian carries everywhere with him that spirit of traffic which is common to him with the jew; always at work on some stroke of business, always ready to seize a flying opportunity; discounting, computing, figuring, with indefatigable patience. meet him where you will, in the fertile valleys of armenia, in the snowy north, or beneath a southern sky, everywhere he exhibits that intense selfishness which stands him in lieu of the patriotic feelings so potent in most other branches of the human family. this nation, dispersed over the whole world like the jews, presents one of those distinctive types of feature characteristic of an unmixed race, which are to be found in full preservation only among eastern nations. the brown mantle in which the armenian women wrap themselves at constantinople, is here replaced by long black veils that cover them from head to foot. this garment, which displays the shape very well, and falls in graceful folds to the feet, when well put on, reminds one of the elegant lines of certain grecian statues; and what makes the resemblance the more striking, is that the armenian women are particularly remarkable for their stately carriage and the severe dignity of their features. the tatars, upwards of in number, are engaged in trade, and chiefly in that of cattle. the numerous mosques and the cupolas of their baths contribute to give astrakhan quite an oriental appearance. the indians who were formerly rather numerous in this city, have long since abandoned the trade for which they frequented it, and none of them remain but a few priests who are detained by interminable lawsuits. but from the old intercourse between the hindus and the kalmucks has sprung a half-breed now numbering several hundred individuals, improperly designated tatars. the mixed blood of these two essentially asiatic races has produced a type closely resembling that of european nations. it exhibits neither the oblique eyes of the kalmucks, nor the bronzed skin of the indians; and nothing in the character or habits of the descendants of these two races indicates a relationship with either stock. in striking contrast with the apathy and indolence of the population among which they live, these half-breeds exhibit in all they do, the activity and perseverance of the men of the north. they serve as porters, waggoners, or sailors, as occasion may require, and shrink from no kind of employment however laborious. their white felt hats, with broad brims and pointed conical crowns, their tall figures, and bold, cheerful countenances, give them a considerable degree of resemblance to the spanish muleteers. this result of the crossing of two races both so sharply defined is extremely remarkable, and cannot but interest ethnologists. the mongol is perhaps above all others the type that perpetuates itself with most energy, and most obstinately resists the influence of foreign admixture continued through a long series of generations. we have found it in all its originality among the cossacks, the tatars, and every other people dwelling in the vicinity of the kalmucks. is it not then a most curious fact to see it vanish immediately under the influence of the hindu blood, and produce instead of itself a thoroughly caucasian type? might we not then conclude that the caucasian is not a primitive type, as hitherto supposed, but that it is simply the result of a mixture, the two elements of which we must seek for in central asia, in those mysterious regions of the great tibetan chain which have so much occupied the inventive genius of ancient and modern writers? the persians, like the indians, are gradually deserting astrakhan. the prohibitive system of russia has destroyed all their commercial resources, and now only some hundreds of them, for the most part detained by penury, are to be found in their adopted country, employed in petty retail dealings. we went over the vast persian khans of astrakhan, but saw none of those gorgeous stuffs for which they were formerly so celebrated. the ware rooms are empty, and it is but with great difficulty the traveller can now and then obtain cashmeres, silky termalamas, or any other of those productions of asia which so much excite our curiosity, and which were formerly a source of prosperity to the town. astrakhan has for some years had a lazaret on the mouths of the volga at seventy-five versts from its walls. the history of this establishment is curious enough. before it was built on the site it now occupies, building had been carried on to a considerable extent at two other spots which were successively abandoned as unsuitable. it was not until much time and money had been spent, that an engineer took notice of a little island exceedingly well adapted to the purpose, and on which the lazaret was finally erected. some years afterwards there was found in the town archives a manuscript note left by peter the great at his departure from astrakhan, and in which he mentioned that very island as well suited for the site of a lazaret. a glance had enabled the tsar to perceive the importance of a locality which many engineering commissions discovered only after repeated search. paving is a luxury quite unknown in astrakhan, and the streets are as sandy as the soil of the environs. though they are almost deserted during the day, on account of the intense heat, few spectacles are more lively and picturesque than that which they present in the evening, when the whole town awakes from the somnolency into which it had been cast by a temperature of . every one then hastens to enjoy the refreshing air of the twilight; people sit at the doors amusing themselves with the sight of whatever passes; business is resumed, and the shops are in a bustle; a numerous population of all races and tongues spreads rapidly along the bridges and the quays bordered with trees; the canal is covered with caïques laden with fruit and arbutus berries; elegant droshkies, caleches, and horsemen rush about in all directions, and the whole town wears a gala aspect that astonishes and captivates the traveller. he finds there collected into a focus all the picturesque items that have struck him singly elsewhere. alongside of a tatar dwelling stretches a great building blackened by time, and by its architecture and carvings carrying you back to the middle ages. a european shop displays its fashionable haberdashery opposite a caravanserai; the magnificent cathedral overshadows a pretty mosque with its fountain; a moorish balcony contains a group of young european ladies who set you thinking of paris, whilst a graceful white shadow glides mysteriously under the gallery of an old palace. all contrasts are here met together; and so it happens that in passing from one quarter to another you think you have but made a short promenade, and you have picked up a stock of observations and reminiscences belonging to all times and places. the russians ought to be proud of a town which did not spring up yesterday, like all the others in their country, and where one is not plagued with the cold, monotonous regularity that meets you without end in every part of the empire. the churches in astrakhan are not built in the invariable greek style of all the other religious buildings of russia: they have carvings, spires, and balustrades, something to attract the gaze, and details to fix it. the cathedral, built towards the end of the seventeenth century, is a large square edifice, surmounted by five cupolas, gilded and starred with azure, and presenting a style midway between those of asia and europe. the interior is hung with pictures of no value in point of art, but attractive to the eye from the richness of their frames, most of which are of massive silver curiously chased. the most interesting monument in astrakhan is a small church concealed in peter the great's fort. it is attributed to ivan iv. its architecture is purely moorish, and it is fretted all over with details exceedingly interesting to an artist. unfortunately, it has long been abandoned, and is now used as a warehouse. the climate of astrakhan is dry, and very hot. for three months the thermometer seldom falls in the day below . this great heat enervates both mind and body, and sufficiently accounts for the extreme sloth of the inhabitants. but in consequence of its dryness the atmosphere possesses a transparent purity that would enchant a painter, giving as it does to every object a warmth and lucidity worthy of italy. a very serious source of annoyance to the astrakhaners, and still more to the foreigner, is the swarm of gnats and other insects that fill the air at certain seasons. their pertinacious attacks baffle all precautions; it is in vain you surround yourself with gauze at night, and resign yourself to total darkness during the day, you are not the less persecuted by them, and you exhaust yourself with ineffectual efforts against an invisible enemy. they are sinking an artesian well in the upper part of the town. they had reached, when we were there, a depth of yards; but instead of water there escaped a jet of carburretted hydrogen, which had been burning for three weeks with great brilliancy. astrakhan now contains streets, squares, market-places, a public garden, wooden and earthen bridges, churches ( of stone, wooden), of which are cathedrals; mosques, of them of stone; houses, of which are of stone, the rest of wood. all narratives of travels tell of the gardens of astrakhan, and the magnificent fruit produced in them. unfortunately, these are pure fictions, for there are but gardens or vineyards around the town, and it is only by means of irrigation with persian wheels that they are rendered productive. all the fruit of the place, moreover, is very poor, if not decidedly bad. the grapes alone are tolerable and of very various kinds, suitable for the table, but none of them fit for making wine. as for the celebrated water-melons, they are held in very low esteem in the country, and the people of the town talk only of those of kherson and the crimea. it is very possible, however, that the fruit of astrakhan may have deserved its high reputation previously to the muscovite domination. here, as everywhere else, the russian population, in taking the place of the tatars, can only have destroyed the agricultural resources of the country. the russian townspeople being exclusively traders and shopkeepers, and never engaging in rural pursuits, the gardens almost all belong to tatars and armenians. as for the government of astrakhan, its territory is one of the most sterile in the empire. agriculture is there wholly unproductive; in general nothing is sowed but a little maize and barley, provisions of all kinds being procured from saratof, by way of the volga. it is this that gives some little briskness to the navigation of that river; for besides the corn consumed by astrakhan, and the towns dependent on its jurisdiction, saratof and the adjoining regions send supplies also to gourief, on the mouth of the ural, to the army cantoned on the terek, and even to the transcaucasian countries. nevertheless, there are no boats plying regularly on the volga; it is only at the period of the fair of nijni novgorod, that the clumsy steamer we saw proceeding to prince tumene's condescends to dawdle up the stream. the day after our arrival in astrakhan we were taken to the house of some hindu brahmins, where we were to be present at the evening prayers. we were received by the chief among them in the most courteous and obliging manner. the room into which he led us looked to the west, and had no other furniture than large turkish divans, and the only thing capable of attracting our attention was a little chapel let into the wall, and which two priests were in the act of arranging for the ceremony. one of them kept his eyes constantly turned towards the west, watching with religious attention the descent of the sun's disc to the horizon. these brahmins were dressed in long brown robes, crossed in front by a white scarf, the two ends of which swept the ground. their bronzed and antiquely moulded visages were surmounted by white muslin turbans with large folds. the leader, who was much less absorbed in his devotions than the rest, was continually smiling upon us, and waving a monstrous persian fan that had the effect of a smart breeze. meanwhile the sun was fast declining; at last its total disappearance was announced by the harsh sound of a conch-shell, whereupon one of the priests lighted several tapers and placed them before an image in the chapel. another began to wash curiously-shaped vessels, filled them with water of lustration, and prostrated himself before them with great unction. a large grey stone set in the wall, appeared to be the principal object of their adorations. according to the explanation given to us by the chief priest, the soul of a celebrated saint, grown weary of the world and of men, had retired within that mystical covering; hence the stone is sacred in the eyes of the hindus, and the mere sight of it, as they declare, is capable of working miracles. after worshipping in silence for some minutes, the chief priest began to burn perfumes, and the room was soon filled with a cloud of smoke, seen through which every object assumed a vaguer and more mysterious form, the pungent aromatic odour, combined with the heat and the strangeness of the scene before our eyes, acted so strongly upon us that we were soon unable to distinguish what was real from what was fantastic. in fact, our semi-ecstatic condition was in remarkable accordance with the moral state of our brahmins. their religious enthusiasm soon ceased to content itself with mere prostrations. hitherto every thing had passed in complete silence, but at a given signal two priests knelt down before the holy stone and recited a prayer, in slow and guttural accents. another with his arms crossed on his breast, stood a few steps off from the chapel, and now and then blew upon a shrill whistle. the fourth, armed with a conch-shell, stood upon one of the divans, and added his voice to the sounds which his companions gave out with increasing loudness. presently their eyes kindled, the muscles of their frames grew tense, the conch vibrated, a bell was rapidly agitated by the leader, and then began so strange and infernal a din, a scene so grotesque and wild, that one would really have thought the brahmins were all possessed by devils. their attitudes and frantic gestures conveyed the idea of exorcism rather than of prayer. what we felt it would be impossible to describe; it was a mixture of surprise, curiosity, disgust, and fright. had not fatigue compelled the actors in this sabbat to stop after ten minutes' exertion, i doubt that we should have been able to support a longer continuance of such a spectacle. one would almost be disposed to say that men take pains to worship god in the least religious manner possible. i have seen the whirling and howling dervishes at constantinople, whose strange and frightful performances can be compared only to those of the medieval convulsionaries. the religious music of the kalmucks is not behind-hand with these aberrations of the human mind; and here is the hindu, worship, which seems to vie with whatever is most demented and extravagant in other religions. when the abominable concert was ended, the leader took a handful of yellow flowers, like marigolds, dipped them in ganges water, and presented one to each of us. then he kneaded a piece of dough in his hands, and gave it a symbolic form, stuck seven small tapers in it, waved it in every direction before the chapel, and then turning towards us, repeated the same ceremony. lastly, he took a small white shell, which had been lying until then on the sacred stone, filled it with sacred water from the ganges, and sprinkled us with it very devoutly. meanwhile, his companions were setting out a table with a collation of fine fruit and pastry, of which the leader did the honours to us with much politeness and gallantry. so ended a scene as difficult to describe well as to forget. now let us leave the indians and their odd ceremonies, and recur to the european usages, which, to our great surprise we found in many _salons_ of astrakhan. a singular thing, and one which must strike the traveller strongly, is the moral influence which france exercises in all countries of the world. wherever you find any trace of civilisation, you are sure to discern the effect of that influence, whether in manners, dress, or political opinions, and that, even among rulers the most distant. most of our romance-writers are probably not aware that their works are read with avidity even on the banks of the caspian, and are criticised there with as much acuteness as in the great capitals of europe. all who call themselves russians, in astrakhan, speak french, and receive every month our newest publications from brussels. in many of the libraries i found lamartine, balzac, alexandra dumas, eugène sue, george sand, de musset, &c., and many other names less known perhaps in paris than in astrakhan. the russian ladies read a great deal; they are generally gifted with natural talent, and converse with tact and to the purpose. their only fault in this respect is, that they confine their reading to romances and novels, which almost always warp their judgment, and give them quite erroneous notions of our habits and our literature. paul de kock and pigault lebrun are especial favourites throughout the empire, and their pictures of low life are read much more eagerly than the elegant and chastened pages of our best writers. i must acknowledge, however, that many russian ladies are capable of appreciating the gravest works. i saw on many a table in astrakhan, "les ducs de bourgogne," "l'histoire du bas empire," "la conquête des normands," and even treatises on geology. it is needless to add, that our fashions and the prodigies of our civilisation are adopted with the same avidity as our literature. i had some difficulty in believing myself on the verge of the caspian, when listening to conversation on the fine arts, and on industrial economy, just as in vienna or paris. music, too, is in high vogue in astrakhan, and many of donizetti's pieces are sung there by brilliant and cultivated voices. our quadrilles, too, are all the rage there, and so are the charming melodies of loïza puget. on the faith of some travellers who have been, or are reported to have been in astrakhan, we expected to find a good many english, italians, and even french in the town; but the fact is, it does not even contain a single individual of those nations, and its society consists solely of russians and germans, sent thither as _employés_. i could hear of but one belgian, formerly a prisoner of war, who became a tailor, and now enjoys a very handsome fortune. astrakhan pretends to have a theatre, but i have little to say for it. imagine a very ugly and very black hall furnished with some thirty niches in double row; a pit adorned with a few dirty caftans; an orchestra composed of a paltry violin and half-a-dozen trumpets, the whole lighted up by a row of candles on the proscenium, and you have an idea of what presumes to call itself a theatre on the caspian shores. as for the pieces and the actors, they are altogether beneath criticism. the governor gave a grand ball and some soirées during our stay in astrakhan. though the heat was intolerable, the rooms were every time filled with a fashionable throng, always eager for pleasure. the russian governors of provinces play the part of petty kings, and exercise over all classes an influence, which has its source in the very constitution of the country. under an absolute government, every superior employé exercises unbounded authority in his own sphere. he has his courtiers, his favourites, his numerous chancery, his orderly officers, and his etiquette modelled on that of st. petersburg, in short all that constitutes the outward tokens of power. but all these appearances of grandeur and might are but relative, for above these petty kings stands a sovereign will, that can by one word strip them of their privileges, and send them to siberia. we must not imagine that slavery exists in russia only for the people; whether you go east or west, into the brilliant salons of st. petersburg, or into the isbas of the muscovite peasant, you find it everywhere; only it is commonly disguised under forms that deceive many travellers, whose judgments are beguiled by the glittering varnish with which the russian contrives to invest himself, by his numerous staff, his princely abode, and the pomp of his official life. and yet what is all this in reality? something like the soap bubbles that glisten with all the colours of the rainbow, but vanish with the least breath. the magnificence of the governor's palace astonished us. on our arrival for the ball, after passing through several rooms sumptuously furnished, we were led into a boudoir, where we found madame timirasif, the governor's lady, surrounded by all the _élite_ of the place. she introduced me to several ladies who spoke french very well, and with whom i was soon engaged in a conversation as frivolous and varied as the chit-chat of the parisian world of fashion. but the music soon began, and we repaired to a very large ball-room, most splendidly lighted, and already thronged with officers. the orchestra, placed on a raised platform, played french quadrilles in excellent style. i took advantage of an interminable mazurka, to learn the names of various personages: general brigon, a livonian, hetman of all the cossacks; count pushkin, curator of the university of casan; admiral lazaref; the kalmuck prince, tondoudof; the princess dolgoruky; and a young persian, who occupied the attention of all the ladies during the ball. his handsome oriental countenance, his rich costume, the grace with which he danced french quadrilles and mazurkas, and above all, his title of traveller, gave him an extraordinary éclat, which seemed in no wise to astonish him. i will say nothing of a collection of colonels and aides-de-camp, an inevitable and always profuse element of every russian party, nor of a battalion of excellencies loaded with more stars and decorations than are commonly seen in the court balls of france or england. the governor's wife is a specimen of the russian lady in the highest perfection of the class. elegant, lively, fascinating, and _pleine de distinction_, she possesses all the qualities requisite in the queen of a drawing-room. she did the honours of that remarkable _soirée_ with charming grace. the ball ended with a grand supper, which was prolonged until morning. we passed fifteen well-spent days in astrakhan. notwithstanding the heat, we were running about from morning till night, escorted by an aide-de-camp, whom his excellency had assigned to us as cicerone. this very obliging officer being perfectly well acquainted with the country, and being incessantly on the look-out for any thing that could interest us, it came to pass that in eight days we had a much better knowledge of the town than the governor himself. one thing alone escaped our search, namely, one or two families of parsees, who still inhabit astrakhan, but whom our guide could not succeed in ferreting out. it was in vain he hunted about and questioned every body; no one could give him any precise information on the subject. _soirées_, cavalcades, numerous dinners, and above all, a pleasing intimacy with many agreeable families, filled up our tourist existence in the most charming manner, and made us postpone as long as possible a departure, which was to snap asunder such pleasing social ties. it would be impossible to surpass the active kindness shown us by the governor and all the best society of astrakhan. during our whole stay the governor put his caleche at our disposal, and was imitated in this by many other persons. but notwithstanding all these temptations to prolong our abode, we were obliged at last to set in earnest about arrangements for our journey across the kalmuck steppes. our first care was to provide all that was indispensable to prevent our dying of hunger on the way. an expedition of this kind is like a long sea voyage; the previous cares are the same; one must enter into the same sort of details as the sailor who is bound for a distant shore. we laid in a great stock of biscuits, rice, oil, candles, dry fruit, tea, coffee, and sugar, and sent them forward with our escort to houidouk, a post station near the caspian, where my husband was to begin his series of levels. this escort, consisting of ten camels with their drivers and some cossacks fully armed, had been selected by the governor and m. fadiew, with a carefulness that proved how much they were both concerned for our safety. i cannot sufficiently express my gratitude for all the kindness they showed us on this occasion; their anxiety about the result of so hazardous a journey betrayed itself by numberless precautions and recommendations, which might have had some influence on our determination if it had not been irrevocably fixed. the governor chose from among his best officers, a tatar prince to command our escort. this young man, who was an excellent sportsman, had a hawk, from which he was inseparable, and to this circumstance was owing the orders he received to accompany us. general timirasif, always mindful of the privations that awaited us, thought he could not do better than furnish us with so clever a purveyor; who, indeed, proved to be of immense assistance to us. when he presented the officer to us, with his hawk on his fist, his face beamed with satisfaction. "now," he said, laughing, "my conscience is at ease; here i give you a brave soldier for your champion, and a travelling companion, who will not let you be starved to death in the wilderness." orders were sent forward in advance, along all the line we were to traverse as far as haidouk, that we should be supplied with horses at every station without delay. chapter xxi. commercial position of astrakhan--its importance in the middle ages--its loss of the overland trade from india-- commercial statistics--fisheries of the caspian--change of the monetary system in russia--bad state of the finances--russian political economy. there is no city, perhaps, of eastern europe, which has played a more important part than astrakhan in the commercial relations between europe and asia. situated at the lower extremity of the largest navigable river of europe, it communicates on the one side by the caspian with turcomania and the northern regions of persia; on the other side, by means of the volga and the don, it is in direct intercourse with the central provinces of the muscovite empire, and the whole coast of the black sea. with such facilities for traffic, astrakhan would naturally be one of the chief points of transit for indian goods during the middle ages, when the passage by the cape of good hope was unknown, and european navigators had not yet appeared in the persian gulf. it was towards the middle of the thirteenth century, after the foundation of the kaptshak empire, and of the kingdom of little tartary, that the caspian sea became a highway for the indian trade, with which, in still earlier times, the petchenegues, the predecessors of the tatars in the tauris, appear not to have been altogether unacquainted. astrakhan on one side, and soldaïa on the black sea on the other, became the two great maritime places of the tatars, and exchanged between them the merchandise of europe and asia, by means of the caravans of the kouban and the volga.[ ] from soldaïa the indian goods were next conveyed to constantinople, where they were sold either for the provinces of the empire, or to foreigners trading in that capital. afterwards, about , when the genoese took possession of the coasts of the tauris, soldaïa lost its commercial importance, and the splendid colony of caffa became the centre of all the asiatic commerce. mercantile relations with india assumed fresh activity at that period, particularly when, after the dissolution of the empire of the kaptshak, in the reign of hadji devlet cherii, the genoese became masters of tana, on the don. the whole trade in spices, aromatic and medicinal drugs, perfumes, silks, and other productions of the east in request in europe, fell thus into the hands of those intrepid italian speculators, whose connexions by way of the caspian, the persian gulf, and the caravans, extended as far as the indies. but soon a new tempest burst forth, more terrible than any of those which had before shaken the soil of the east. in , mahomed ii. seized constantinople, and twenty years later all the genoese colonies fell one after another into the power of the ottomans. it was in vain the venetians strove to appropriate the commerce of the black sea and the east; their efforts were fruitless, and the closing of the dardanelles was peremptorily declared. the old communications between europe and asia were thus severed, and for many years the precious commodities of the east ceased to find their way towards europe. but as they were in great demand, and were very costly, merchants contrived to find a new passage for them, and smyrna became their entrepôt. the situation of that town, however, was far from compensating for the disadvantage of a long, perilous, and expensive land carriage. hence the indian trade remained in a languid state, until vasco de gama's discovery opened a new route for the people of the west. smyrna retained the monopoly of the eastern trade for more than years; and until the middle of the seventeenth century, persia was the first entrepôt for indian productions, which arrived there by way of the persian gulf, afghanistan, and beloochistan. they were partly consumed in the country, and the rest was conveyed either to smyrna by erzeroum and bagdad, or into russia by the caspian sea and georgia. in consequence of this great commercial revolution, the regions now constituting the south-eastern provinces of russia, lost all their importance with regard to the traffic between europe and asia. the great entrepôts of caffa and tana having fallen into decay, all the routes leading to them were forsaken. the great caravans of the volga and the kouban disappeared, the navigation of the caspian was almost annihilated, and astrakhan was reduced exclusively to local commerce with the adjoining districts of russia. a hundred years after the taking of constantinople, ivan the terrible planted his victorious banner on the shores of the caspian, and the old city of the tatars of the golden horde fell under the muscovite sway. ever since that event, historians have had to record but a long series of disasters, mistakes, and decadence. it appears, however, that under the reign of ivan the terrible and his next successors, astrakhan still continued to supply russia with the productions of persia, and with some of those of central asia. an english company even attempted, about the year , to open up a commercial intercourse with persia and turcomania by way of the caspian, but failed completely; and subsequently the appearance of the dutch and british flags in the persian gulf, and the immense development of the maritime commerce with india, for ever extinguished, for astrakhan, the hope of recovering its former position. the navigation of the caspian was completely abandoned, and the few asiatic goods which russia could not dispense with were conveyed to that country by expensive and perilous overland routes. accordingly, when alexis michaelovitz ascended the throne about the middle of the seventeenth century, how to arrive at persia by sea was almost become an unsolved problem. to this prince belongs, however, the honour of the first effort made by russia to re-establish the commerce of the caspian. a maritime expedition was undertaken from astrakhan in , under the direction of dutch seamen; but it failed completely, in consequence of the revolt of the cossacks, and the successes achieved by their leader, stenko razin. after this ineffectual attempt, things reverted to their old state, and the commercial history of this part of the empire presents nothing remarkable until the accession of peter the great. the trade with asia was not forgotten under that illustrious regenerator of the muscovite nation, who bent all the force of his genius upon the affairs of the east. filled with the grand design of making the merchandise of asia pass through his dominions, he repaired in person to astrakhan, inspected the mouths of the volga, selected a site for a quarantine establishment, and set dutchmen to work to turn the shores of the caspian to profitable account, until such time as political circumstances should enable him to found establishments by force of arms on the russian coast. but the brilliant expeditions beyond the caucasus subsequently made by russia led to no commercial result. central asia continued as of old to communicate with europe by way of smyrna and the indian ocean; and after peter's death russia gave up all her pretensions to the southern shores of the caspian, over which she had entertained strong hopes of establishing her dominion. eventually the extension of the russian possessions southward to the kouban and the terek, and eastward to the ural, was not without its fruits. the safety secured to travellers caused the trade with persia by way of georgia to revive in some degree. astrakhan was again visited by persian and hindu merchants, and by caravans from khiva and bokhara; the western and eastern shores of the caspian were again frequented by vessels, and the numerous nomade hordes, of asiatic habits, that then occupied the steppes of the volga and the kouma, contributed not a little to give animation to the commercial interchange between russia and the transcaucasian regions.[ ] in the reign of catherine ii. the russians reappeared once more beyond the caucasus on the caspian shores; but it was not until alexander's time that their sway was definitively established in those asiatic regions. once mistress of a vast country conterminous with persia and turkey, and washed both by the caspian and the black sea, russia evidently commanded every possible means for developing to her own advantage a trade between europe and most of the western regions of asia. by way of the caspian and the volga she could supply all her central provinces with persian silks and cottons, dye-stuffs, and drugs; besides which she could monopolise the profit on the transit of goods to the fairs of germany and down the danube. at first the russian government seemed disposed to favour the establishment of all these great mercantile relations; but it did not long persist in its liberal course. it soon began to practise restrictive measures, thus paving the way for the grand system of proscription which it afterwards adopted. in the beginning of alexander's reign the old trade with persia still subsisted, and the russians continued to buy cottons of excellent quality, at very low prices, in mazanderan, a province situated on the caspian.[ ] the merchants used then to make their payments in ducats, that gold coinage being a _sine quâ non_ in all bargains. but the exportation of ducats was prohibited in and , and thenceforth the persians refused to trade, not choosing to accept silver coin. the english merchants, always prompt to seize advantageous opportunities, immediately entered the markets of mazanderan, the cottons of which, purchased by them at low prices, reached europe by way of the persian gulf. at first they paid in ducats; but england soon substituted for specie cloths, and all other kinds of goods suitable to the inhabitants of that part of persia. it was especially during the war of that the english led the persians to adopt their various manufactures. the stop put to the russian trade opened the eyes of the ministry, who soon revoked the measure concerning ducats, but the mischief was done; commerce had already run into a new channel. severe as was this lesson it produced no lasting effect. in order to favour a single moscow manufacture, a duty equivalent to a prohibition was imposed on foreign velvets _in transitu_ for persia, and thenceforth an article for which there was so important a demand, ceased to be an item in the russian traffic with persia. in , the russian government seemed to be disposed to wiser views, and allowed european goods free entrance into the ports of georgia. thereupon, a great transit trade rapidly sprang up between turkey, persia, and the great german fairs, by way of radzivilov, odessa, redout kaleh, and tiflis. this new and very promising line of communication had but a brief duration, for ten years afterwards, russia, in her infatuation, destroyed all these magnificent commercial elements, as we have already shown. she closed the transcaucasian provinces against european goods, and thus gave an immediate impulse to the prosperity of her formidable competitors in trebisond, which soon surpassed the establishments on the persian gulf, and became the principal port in persia and the point of destination for english goods, to the annual value at present of more than two millions sterling. the trebisond route having been once adopted, the trade in drugs and dye-stuffs was likewise lost for russia. it is scarcely conceivable with what perverse obstinacy the russian government has persisted in its course, in defiance of all warning; and whilst the people of persia and turkey in asia, were forsaking their old commercial routes for new markets, russia has gone on making her prohibitive system more and more stringent, even to the extent of excluding the common pottery, an immense quantity of which was formerly sent from khiva and bokhara to astrakhan, for the use of the tatars and kalmucks. it was through the effect of such measures as these that astrakhan lost all trace of its former greatness. in it contained only forty-eight merchants of the first guild, including women and children, and had but forty-eight vessels belonging to its port. of these forty-eight vessels, having a total tonnage of about nine millions of kilogrammes, eleven belonged to the crown, twenty-five were the property of private individuals, and were employed as government transports; there remained, therefore, for trade only twelve vessels, one-third of which were unemployed. the vessels belonging to the other ports of the caspian in connexion with astrakhan, such as baku and salian, were eight in number, with a tonnage of , kilogrammes, besides about sixty coasters, tonnage unknown. such is the deplorable condition to which the trade and navigation of the caspian have been reduced by an exclusive government, which would never consent to understand the reciprocal nature of traffic, but foolishly hoped to preserve its commercial intercourse with nations whose productions it rejects, and to which it refuses even the transit of the foreign goods they require. do what she will, russia will never succeed in adequately replacing for the mussulmans of the south of the empire the manufactures of asia, which are peculiarly adapted to their habits and their wants, or in inducing the transcaucasian countries to adopt her own sorry manufactures. the spread of english commerce, moreover, in the western regions of asia is now a historical fact, and russia cannot possibly check it unless she become mistress, some time or other, of constantinople. it is true she may compete in some hardware goods with the higher-priced productions of england; but the asiatics are excellent judges of such matters; they are seldom tempted by mere cheapness; on the contrary, experience proves that they prefer the english goods, the soundness and high finish of which they fully appreciate. but even though the russian goods were as well made as the english, the prohibitive system of the empire, and the refusal of transit to european merchandise, would still be sufficient to deprive the country of all export trade in the caspian; for the people of asia will always give the preference to those commercial relations which afford them opportunities for exchanges suitable to their wants, along with the advantages of a more extensive demand. the trade of the two russian ports of the caspian in , was as follows:-- exports. imports. duties. rubles. rubles. rubles. astrakhan , , , , , baku , , , , --------- --------- ------- , , , , , which gives for the whole caspian a general circulation of about , , rubles. the trade has still continued to decline since . we find it stated in the journal of the ministry of the interior, that the whole exports of the russian transcaucasian provinces, by the black sea, the caspian, and overland, amounted in , to but , , rubles,[ ] whilst the imports by the caspian, did not exceed , , rubles, nearly a million less than in . in the same year persia supplied, by the overland route, goods to the amount of , , rubles to the caucasian provinces. now these goods consisted, according to the documents of the government itself, not of raw materials, but almost entirely in silk and cotton fabrics. the fact is, that notwithstanding the high duties of the imperial tariff, the people of asia, who know nothing of the fantastic changes of fashion, always prefer the durable productions of the persian looms to the flimsy tissues which russia offers them, at very high prices, in consequence of the great remoteness of moscow, the only seat of manufactures in the empire. again, the persians, finding that russia can supply them with but few articles suited to them, keep all the raw materials produced in their country, and those which reach them from central asia, to exchange them for the european goods, which are now briskly and abundantly supplied in trebisond and tauris. thus the ghilan[ ] silks, the mazanderan cottons, the gall-nuts of kurdistan, the tobaccoes of shiraz, the gums, dye-stuffs, saffron, &c., have completely deserted the caspian, and the route from tiflis to redout-kaleh, for that by way of erzeroum and trebisond. another circumstance in favour of this new line is the low rate of carriage and duties in turkey; the latter never exceed three per cent. for europeans, and four per cent. for persians; but in reality merchants seldom pay more than half that amount. altogether the transit from constantinople does not augment the first cost of goods by more than ten per cent. hence it is easy to infer how difficult it is for russia, whose manufacturing power is still so inconsiderable, to contend with the other european states in the markets of persia, and how grossly it blundered when it voluntarily annihilated all transit trade through its dominions, in the vain hope of forcing its own productions on the transcaucasian countries. one of the most curious things connected with the destruction of all these elements of wealth is the petty artifices practised by the ministry to make europe, and the head of the government, believe that the extension of commerce is nowhere more sedulously pursued than in russia. for instance, the fort of alexandrof has been built on the north-east coast of the caspian, under the pretence of providing a receptacle for the imaginary caravans from khiva and bokhara. unfortunately, the locality affords neither fresh water nor wood, nor any one necessary; accordingly, as might have been foreseen, it has not been visited by a single caravan. the garrison consists of men, and requires to be constantly renewed in consequence of its suffering by scurvy; the commandant is obliged to procure fresh water from the mouths of the ural, which is conveyed to him in packet-boats. the fort has not even proved of use for the protection of the fishery which is carried on not far from its site. the soldiers cannot venture from their redoubts without incurring the risk of being carried off by the khirghis. more than eighty russian fishermen were made prisoners in by those nomades, and sold in khiva and bokhara. it is well known what hopes peter the great built on the black sea, the caspian, and the countries situated beyond the caucasus. it remains for us briefly to discuss the question, whether it will ever be possible for russia to make the indian trade return to its old route. now that navigation has made such amazing progress, now that the establishment of steamboats on the euphrates and the red sea, is a solved problem, and the cost of freight by sea is exceedingly reduced, we think there is no longer a chance for russia to divert the course of the indian trade, and make it pass through her own dominions. russia is conterminous with the chinese empire, and has long enjoyed certain and regular communication with it; and yet the english find it very profitable to sell in odessa, and all the south of russia, tea brought them by ships that double the cape of good hope. it is evident that russia is in a still worse position with regard to india than to china. should the russians ever become masters of the sea of azof, they might, perhaps, penetrate to bokhara and samarkand by way of the rivers sir daria (iaxartes) and amore daria (oxus). this was one of peter the great's grand conceptions. but the reiterated attempts that have been made in khiva, always to no purpose, prove plainly that conquests are not easily to be made in those regions, and that such armies as those of our day are not fitted to traverse the steppes of the khirghis and turcomans. and how were it possible, besides, to establish as regular and cheap communications with india, by way of persia or bokhara, as those which now exist by sea? it seems, therefore, evident that peter the great's projects are become chimerical at this day, and that all the efforts russia can ever make by herself, will be unable to change the course of the indian trade. it is only in case of a long maritime war that she could hope to bring the productions of central asia to the black sea, thence to be distributed over continental europe. but apart from this trade, there was still a vast field to be wrought: in like manner as the east indies are become, commercially speaking, dependencies of great britain, so persia and turcomania might have become tributaries to russia, had not the latter, blinded by her vanity and jealous ambition, to adopt her deplorable system of prohibition, and destroyed the whole european transit trade which was establishing itself by way of the ports she possesses on the black sea. our facts and figures have clearly proved that the decay of the navigation of the caspian has accompanied that of the asiatic trade; it is important, however, to give some notion of the nature and employment of the vessels actually in use on the caspian and the volga. these vessels are divided into five classes, according to the character of their build. the first comprises ships that visit all the ports of the caspian indiscriminately; the second, those that ply only in the neighbourhood of astrakhan; the third, those that confine themselves to the mouths of the volga from astrakhan to the sea; the fourth, the river boats that never quit the volga; and the fifth, those belonging to the persian provinces. the ships that visit the ports of the caspian are called _shkooutes_, and their hulls are not unlike those of dutch vessels. they are built of bad timber, and in defiance of all rules. their number, though greatly exceeding the demands of commerce, is not above eighty; they gauge from to _hectolitres_. shipowners generally buy old hulls in nijni novgorod, and turn them into shkooutes, without ever reflecting that their craziness and want of regularity makes them exceedingly dangerous as sea-going vessels. and then the command of them is given to ignorant pilots, who fill the office of captains in all but the name. the crews consist of from ten to sixteen, and these being chosen by the sole test of cheapness, the result is that the navigation of the squally and formidable caspian is in very bad repute among merchants, and will inevitably be abandoned altogether. the shkooutes are employed in conveying russian and persian goods, and the workmen, materials, provisions, and produce, belonging to the fisheries situated between salian,[ ] siphitourinsk, akhrabat, and astrabad,[ ] and in carrying victuals and stores to the garrisons in the eastern parts of the caucasus. of all these transports, those of the crown alone afford the shippers any chance of profit. the russian authorities and merchants themselves confess that there is no longer any thing to be got by conveying merchandise from astrakhan to persia. twenty years ago the freights obtained for heavy goods were from . rubles, to per pood, and from to rubles for light and bulky goods. now the freight for the former does not exceed from to copeks, and that of the latter never amounts to one ruble. the return charges cannot be stated with accuracy, since they depend on the quantity of goods to be shipped, and the number of vessels ready to load. it often happens that the captains put up their services to auction, and end with losing instead of gaining. this diminution in the charges for freight is evidently the consequence of the superabundance of vessels, of the frequent shipwrecks which cause a preference for land carriage, and of the small amount of importation into the persian provinces. the vessels that ply on the caspian in the vicinity of astrakhan are known in the country by the name of _razchiva_. they differ very little from the shkooutes, and cost from to rubles. sailors distinguish them into two classes, _manghishlaks_ and _aslams_, the former of which take the name from the port[ ] whence they formerly carried to astrakhan the goods brought by the khiva and bokhara caravans. this traffic was monopolised by tatars, who alone had nothing to fear from the khirghis and turkmans, when they landed. in , there were but eight manghishlaks, half of which were unemployed. these little vessels carry from to hectolitres. the other class of razchivas, designated by the tartar word _aslam_ (carrier--_voiturier_), are used to convey household vessels, victuals, timber, and articles requisite for the fisheries. they ply to kisliar,[ ] gourief,[ ] and tchetchenze,[ ] and traverse all the north-western parts of the caspian, from the volga to terek, their principal cargoes being commissariat stores for the troops in the caucasian provinces. they bring back wine, rice, and kisliar brandy, which is much esteemed in the country. the number of these razchivas does not, however, exceed fifty. they can make five trips in the year. these vessels are much more profitable to their owners than are shkooutes. in reality they are but coasters, and as they seldom venture out of sight of the shore, they are much less exposed to wreck. moreover, in addition to their astrakhan freights, they keep up an exchange trade in eatable commodities with the nomades of the caspian shores. they are also employed in the fisheries of the emba and of tchetchenze, though the fishermen generally prefer smaller vessels. the vessels that ply in the mouths of the volga are some of them decked, some open. the former, which need to be of a certain strength, carry goods directly on board the shkooutes in the offing, whereas the latter stop a little distance from the mouth of the river. both are really lighters. the water is so low near the mouths of the volga, as well as in all the northern part of the caspian, that the shkooutes are obliged to put to sea empty from the port of astrakhan. about twenty miles from the shore they take in half their cargo, which is brought to them in open lighters, nor can they complete their loading until they are or miles from the embouchure, where they are met by decked vessels whose draught of water does not exceed thirteen feet. the lighters generally belong to petty captains, who realise a good profit by them; but a large proportion of them are lost every year. the boats that float down the volga to astrakhan from the interior, are of extreme diversity of construction. the most remarkable are the _kladnyas_, which are distinguished above all the rest by their solidity and their dutch build. they have but one enormously tall mast with two sails, one of which is attached to a boom twice as long as the hull of the vessel. next after them come the _beliangs_, flat boats built entirely of deal, and not pitched either within or without. besides these there are an infinity of smaller boats, which it is unnecessary to describe. all these boats convey goods from astrakhan to nijni novgorod, saratof, and other places, and _vice versa_, charging for freight from ten to thirty kopeks per pood, according to distance. they arrive at astrakhan at stated times, namely, in may, july, and september. the steamboat that makes one trip every year between astrakhan and nijni novgorod, takes from forty to fifty days to ascend the river, and a fortnight to return. the navigation of the volga, appears by the sailors' accounts, to be growing more difficult every year; some parts of the river are already impracticable for boats of a certain draught. indeed the fact seems clearly ascertained that the volga has undergone a great diminution of volume within the last century. the vessels belonging to the persian provinces resemble the russian shkooutes, with this difference, that no pitch is used in their construction, but their timbers are so accurately joined as to admit no water. it is superfluous to say that the persian shipping is in a still worse position than that of russia. if to these statistical details we add that all the russian goods are conveyed by land to the caucasian provinces of the empire, no more will be wanting to show how deserted is the caspian sea. the manual industry of astrakhan shares, of course, the decay of its commerce. the metropolis reckoned fifty-two manufacturing establishments in , viz.: one for silks, two for cotton cloths, twenty dyeing-houses, ten tanyards, two candle manufactories, three soap manufactories, twelve tile manufactories, one tallow melting-house, one rope-walk; workmen were employed in all these establishments. it was the fisheries of the volga that in reality furnished the population with all the means of subsistence; they are still the chief resource of the country, and it would seem as though nature had wished to compensate astrakhan for the sterility of its soil, by rendering the waters that wash it more prolific than any others in fish.[ ] the waters in which the fishing is carried on are private property, or farmed out by the crown and the towns, or they are free to all comers. the most productive spots belong to the princes kourakin, youssoupof, besborodko, &c. the crown fisheries were formerly commercial property; they are now leased to one individual, along with those belonging to the district capitals of the government of astrakhan. the waters of astrakhan, though belonging to prince kourakin, have nevertheless been gratuitously conceded to the town. they yield for the most part only small kinds of fish, which are consumed by the inhabitants themselves. the fisheries of the emba have been free since . they comprise miles of the caspian coast, from the mouth of the ural to mentvoi koultouk, and take their name from the river emba. they belonged formerly to the counts koutussof and soltykov. by virtue of a decree, dated march , , fishery of all sorts, including that of seals, is free in the maritime waters of tchetchenze. the island of that name, lying not far from the gulf and cape of agrakhan, contains vast establishments for smoking, salting, and drying fish, and numerous dwellings occupied by the fishermen. the fishery here lasts all the year through, and yields beluga,[ ] common sturgeon, salmon trout, silurus,[ ] and two varieties of carp. it has been the custom of the seal-fishers from time immemorial not to destroy any of those animals before the th of april; whoever infringes this rule is deprived of all his booty by his comrades, who divide it among themselves. war is waged upon the seals in five different ways. in summer they are hunted on the islands and netted in the sea; in winter they are shot, or killed with clubs on the ice, or at the breathing-holes they break through it. in summer the seals weigh thirty pounds, in autumn about sixty, and in winter often ninety-six. the permanent fisheries are called _vataghis_ and _outshoughis_; the places where they are temporary are called _stania_. an outshoughi consists in a barrier of stakes planted across the river, and sometimes wattled. below this barrier the apparatus called in russian _samoloff_, is placed in the current. it is a cord hung with short lines and hooks, and the business of the fisherman consists in examining the lines, and taking off the fish that are hooked. these are immediately taken to a shed built on piles at the waterside, where they are cut up; the roes, the fat, and the nerves are afterwards conveyed to places where they undergo the processes necessary to fit them for commerce. as the lines of stakes hinder the fish from ascending the river, the government has for some time prohibited the use of outshoughis, and also of the lines and hooks, by which it is found that scarcely one fish is taken out of a hundred that swallow the bait; the rest escape though wounded, and thus perish uselessly. the invention of these barriers is ascribed to the tatars of the khanat of astrakhan. as fish was an important article of commerce between them and the russians, it may be presumed that they adopted this means to keep the fish from ascending to the upper portions of the volga. the vataghis, usually placed on the heights above the shore, are cellars in which fish is salted and dried. before the door there is always a platform sheltered by a screen of reeds, where the fish are cut up and cleaned. nets, some of them several hundred yards in length, are exclusively used in these establishments. it is forbidden, however, to stretch them across the entire width of the river. the fishing season is divided into several distinct periods. the first, which extends from march till may, that is from the breaking up of the ice to the time of flood, is called the caviar season; it is the most important and most productive of the caviar and isinglass. the second occurs in july when the waters have sunk within their ordinary bed, and the fish having spawned, are returning to the sea. the third, from september to november, is the season when the beluga, sturgeon, and sevriuga[ ] return to the deepest parts of the river. these fish are also taken in winter by nets of a peculiar form. at that time of year the fishermen of the coasts often travel over the ice for dozens of miles from the land. every two men have a horse and sledge, and carry with them yards of net, with which they capture belugas, sturgeons, silures, and even seals under the ice. these expeditions are very dangerous. the wind often drives the ice-blocks on a sudden out to sea, and then the loss of the fishermen is inevitable, unless the wind chops round and drives them back to land. old experienced fishermen allege that the instinct of the horses forewarns them of these atmospheric changes, and that their uneasiness puts their masters on their guard against the danger; according to the same authorities, the moment the animals are yoked they turn of their own accord towards the shore, and set off thither with extraordinary speed. the fishermen of astrakhan reckon three classes of fish. the first they call red fish, which includes the beluga, the sevriuga, and the sturgeon. the second consists of white fish, such as the salmon-trout, the bastard beluga, the sterlet,[ ] the carp or sazan, the soudak,[ ] and the silure. to the third class belong all those designated by the general name of _tchistia_, _kovaya_ or _riba_, either on account of the closeness of the nets employed to take them, or of their habits of entering rivers in very dense shoals. they are small fish, which are little prized, and are salted for the consumption of the interior of the empire. the government fishing board has the general control of the fisheries, grants the requisite licences, superintends the election of the headmen, sends out inspectors to maintain order, and collects information as to the produce of the fisheries. in , men employed in fishing, and in taking seals, with boats, brought in , sturgeons, , sevriugas, and , belugas: these yielded tons of caviar, and about tons of isinglass. there were also taken soudaks, and the enormous quantity of , seals. the sturgeon fishery alone produces about , , of rubles annually, but the expenses are very considerable. the revenue derived by the government from the fisheries of the volga amounts to , paper rubles. the celebrated imperial ukase appointing a uniform monetary system throughout the empire, was promulgated during our stay in astrakhan, and afforded us a fresh opportunity of beholding the amazing impassiveness of the russians, and their extreme incapability of self-assertion. the change was certainly excellent in itself, and loudly called for by the circumstances of the country, but the manner of carrying it into effect caused a loss of eighteen per cent, to all holders of coin. in astrakhan, the voice of the public crier sufficed at once, and without warning, to reduce the ruble piece to . , that of . to . , that of ruble to . , and that of . to . ; and immediately after beat of drum, the law was carried into full force on all commercial transactions. it must not be supposed, however, that this inert resignation of the tzar's subjects is merely the result of their profound reverence for whatever emanates from the omnipotence of their sovereign. every one of them is fully and keenly sensible of his loss, and if no voice is uplifted against such ministerial spoliations, the cause abides in that total absence of will and reflection which we have already had many occasions to point out as a distinguishing trait of the russian character. for our own part we cannot but highly approve of the idea of establishing a complete uniformity in the value of coinage, for the variations of value which the same coin formerly underwent in passing from one government to another were exceedingly injurious to trade. we think, however, that the change might have been accomplished by more legal and less violent means. it is true, that by acting as he did, count cancrine was sure of realising a gain of eighteen per cent., and this, it may be presumed, was the principal motive that actuated him. be this as it may, this was not the first time the russian government took such a course; every one knows that in , the silver ruble fell abruptly to the value of a paper ruble, entailing a loss of seventy-one per cent. on all holders of government bills, who received but a paper ruble for every silver ruble represented by the bills. this state of things lasted until , when the old system was restored. the present government paper, having for its basis a real coin, the silver ruble, worth . paper rubles (about _s._ _d._), consists of notes for , , , and even , rubles. these notes are extremely small, and the government must inevitably realise a large profit annually by their wear and tear and loss. it is likewise very possible that the ministry of finance had no other motive for creating these new notes, than that of preparing means to repeat the bankruptcy of ; and seeing the actual state of the imperial treasury, there is no doubt that such an act of bankruptcy would be committed in case of war. never was the state so oppressed with debt as it is at this day. the war in the caucasus, the grand military parades, and the payment of a countless host of diplomatic agents, avowed and secret, all absorb immense sums, and the ministry is consequently reduced to miserable shifts to make up the deficit, and restore the balance of the finances. the proposal of a great military expenditure was discussed in the imperial council of , and was opposed with reason by cancrine, on the too real ground of want of money. the emperor, chafed by an opposition to his wishes such as he was not used to, ordered the grand treasurer to produce all his accounts, that the matter might be investigated in council. next day the accounts were examined in presence of the tzar and his ministers. one item excited great surprise; an enormous sum was set down as expended, but how or wherefore it was spent was not stated. the emperor yielding without reflection to a sudden impulse of anger, commanded cancrine to explain what had become of the money, and the minister, who had taken his precautions beforehand, instantly laid before his master a note in which were revealed some singular mysteries. it was, they say, after this memorable sitting that all public works were immediately stopped, the stamp duties were quadrupled, the charge for passports centupled, and new notes payable to the bearer, were issued for more than , , of silver rubles. such are the expedients that constitute the genius of the ministry, and which count cancrine thought it right to employ to augment the financial resources of the country. i recollect an anecdote that exactly typifies the notions of that statesman. i was once in the house of a moldavian landowner of bessarabia, whose lands bring him in about , rubles a year. the conversation turned on agriculture. "what!" exclaimed a russian who was present, "your estate yields you but , rubles a-year? nonsense; put it into my hands and i warrant you twice as much."--"that would be a very agreeable thing, if it could be done," said the landlord; "i flatter myself i am tolerably well versed in these matters, and yet i have never been able to discover any possible means of increasing my income."--"how many days do your peasants work?" said the russian.--"thirty."--"that's not enough: make them work sixty. what breadth of land do they till for you?"--"so much."--"double it." and so he went on through the other items of the inquiry, crying, "double it! double it!" we could not help heartily laughing. but the russian remained perfectly serious, and i am sure he thought himself as great a man as cancrine himself; i really regret that i did not ask him, had he taken lessons in economics in the office of that illustrious financier. footnotes: [ ] notwithstanding the assertions of most geographers, we are of opinion that the communications between soldaïa, kaffa, and astrakhan generally took place by way of the don and the volga. many reasons seem to confirm this opinion. had it been otherwise, the genoese would not have attached so much importance to the possession of tana, on the mouth of the don. furthermore, the route by the banks of the terek and the kouban, skirting the northern slope of the caucasus, being much longer as well as more dangerous, by reason of the neighbourhood of the caucasian tribes, preference would naturally have been given to the route by the don and the volga, which passed only through tatar countries, inhabited by the same people as the traders, and subjected to the same government. it seems confirmatory of this opinion that in the expedition of sultan selim against astrakhan, in , part of the turkish army marched by that very route. the line of the manitch must have been little frequented on account of its almost total want of drinkable water. [ ] among the various nomade hordes then encamped on the soil of southern russia, the kalmucks alone numbered more than , families; at the same period the crimea alone had a population of more than , . but these regions have undergone a remarkable change since peter the great's time. a large portion of the kalmucks have emigrated to china, and the mussulman tribes have lost at least nine-tenths of their population. it may easily be conceived how injurious to the trade with persia and central asia has been the disappearance of these asiatic races. [ ] the best cotton of persia is grown on the slopes of the elbrouz. these regions might easily supply russia annually with an average of , , kilogrammes of cotton, at to centimes the kilogramme on the spot. [ ] among the articles exported by russia, the following are to be estimated at the approximative values annexed to them: cotton cloths, , rubles; woollens, , ; linens, , ; iron, , to , ; various metal wares, , , and wheat , . [ ] in , ghilan exported more than , , rubles worth of silk to trebisond. [ ] salian is a port on the caspian, at the mouth of the coura (the ancient cyrus). the roadstead is tolerably good, and the fisheries are important. an immense quantity of sturgeons are caught. [ ] astrabad on the southern coast of the caspian, between persia and turkistan, is in regular and easy communication with all the regions of persia, khiva, and bokhara. it is the true key to all the commerce of asia by way of the caspian; hence it was an object of special attention for peter the great and catherine ii. [ ] manghishlak is not a town but merely a port, at which vessels used formerly to touch to trade with the nomades of that part of the coast. it is now entirely abandoned; the few vessels which still visit these parts, stop at tuk karakhan, near the old landing place, whence goods are conveyed on camels to khiva in twenty-eight days. [ ] a town on the caspian, at the mouth of terek, celebrated for its brandy. [ ] a town at the mouth of the ural. it belongs to the cossacks of the ural, and contains upwards of a hundred houses. [ ] an island not far from the gulf of agrakhan. [ ] the particulars that follow as to the fisheries of the caspian, were communicated to us at astrakhan. neither the weather nor the season allowed us to be present at those interesting operations. [ ] the _beluga_ of the russians is the great sturgeon (_piscis ichthyocolla, accipenser huso_), its weight often amounts to lbs. [ ] _silurus glanis_, a fish unknown in france. i have found it in the danube, the volga, and the dniepr, where its voracity and strength make it formidable to bathers. [ ] accipenser stellatus. [ ] a. ruthenus. [ ] perca asper. chapter xxii. departure from astrakhan--coast of the caspian--hawking-- houidouk--three stormy days passed in a post-house--armenian merchants--robbery committed by kalmucks--camels--kouskaia-- another tempest--tarakans--a reported gold mine. we left astrakhan at eight in the evening, and were ferried across the volga in a four-oared boat. it took us more than an hour to cross the river, its breadth opposite the town being more than yards. when we reached the opposite bank we might have fancied ourselves transported suddenly to a distance of a hundred versts from astrakhan. kalmucks, sand, felt tents, camels, in a word, the desert and its tenants were all that now met our view. we found our britchka waiting for us; our officer and the dragoman got into a telega or post chariot, and the bells began their merry jingling. nothing can be more dismal than the route from astrakhan to kisliar. for two days and two nights our journey lay through a horrid tract of loose sand, with nothing to be seen but some half-buried kalmuck kibitkas, serving for post stations, and a few patches of wormwood, the melancholy foliage of which was in perfect harmony with the desolate aspect of the landscape. the heaps of sand we passed between exhibited the most capricious mimicry of natural scenery. we had before our eyes hills, ravines, cascades, narrow valleys, and tumuli; but nothing remained in its place; an invisible power was ceaselessly at work, changing every shape too quickly for the eye to follow the rapid transformation. on the evening of the day after our departure, we had an opportunity of testing the prowess of our travelling companion, the hawk. the first theatre of his exploits was a little pond covered with wild ducks and geese, that promised a rich booty. at a signal from my husband the tatar officer unhooded the bird, and cast him off. instantly the hawk darted off like an arrow, close along the surface of the ground, towards the pond, and was soon hidden from us among the reeds, where his presence was saluted with a deafening clamour, and a scared multitude of wild geese rose up out of the sedges. their screams of rage and terror, and their bewildered flight backwards and forwards, and in all directions, were utterly indescribable, until the arrival of the officer put them to the route, and delivered their assailant from their obstreperous resentment. the moment the hawk flew off, the tatar followed him at a gallop, all the while beating a small drum that was fastened to his saddle. when he reached the pond he found the bird planted stoutly on the back of a most insubmissive victim, and waiting with philosophic patience until his master should come and release him from his critical position. the officer told us, that but for his presence, and the noise of the drum, the geese would in all probability have pummelled the hawk to death with their beaks, in order to rescue their companion. in such cases, however, the hawk braves the storm with imperturbable coolness, and adopts a curious expedient when the attacks are too violent, and his master is too slow in appearing. without quitting hold of his victim, he slips himself under the broad wings of the goose, which then become his buckler. once in that position he is invincible, and the blows aimed at him fall only on the poor prisoner, whose cruel fate it is to be forced to protect its mortal enemy. when the falconer comes up, the first thing he does is to cut off its head and give the brains to the hawk. until that operation is completed, the latter keeps fast hold on the quarry, and no efforts of its master can induce it to relax its gripe. the hawk made two or three more successful flights before we reached houidouk, and supplied us with a good stock of provisions, which were not a little needful to us in that miserable post station. during this journey we passed several times very close to the caspian, but without perceiving it. at houidouk, on the mouth of the kouma, we found our escort, which had been waiting two days for us. every thing was ready for our departure, but a violent fall of rain detained us three mortal days in the most detestable cabin we had yet entered. two rooms, one for travellers, and the other for the master of the station and his family, composed the whole dwelling. we installed ourselves as well as we could in the former, the whole furniture of which consisted of a long table and two benches. the walls of this wretched hole were made of ill-jointed boards, that gave admission to the wind and the rain, and to add to our discomfort, it served as an ante-chamber to the other room, and was thus common to the whole household. hens, children, and the master of the house, were perpetually passing through it, and left us not a moment's rest. our situation was intolerable; the violence of the tempest increased at such a rate, that we knew not how the miserable wooden fabric could stand against it. all the elements seemed confounded together; there was no distinguishing earth or sky; but the terrible disorder of nature appeared to me more tolerable than the scene within doors. outside there was at least something for the imagination; the mind was exalted in contemplating the swelling uproar that threatened a renewal of chaos; but the scene within was enough to drive us to despair--children fighting and screaming, fowls fluttering and perching on the table and benches, squalor all around us, and a frowsy atmosphere! to complete our distress, some armenian merchants on their way to the fair of tiflis, finding it impossible to continue their journey, came to share with us the den in which we were already so uncomfortable. but this new incident was a sort of lesson in philosophy for us. when we saw these men conversing quietly as they smoked their tchibouks, without the least show of impatience, and talking of the heavy losses the unseasonable weather might occasion them, as calmly as if their own interests were not concerned, we could not help envying the stoic resignation of which the men of the east alone possess the secret. there is nothing like their fatalism for enabling one to take all things as they come; is not that the acme of human wisdom? our escort passed the three days of this deluge in a corner of the shed adjoining the house. wrapped up in their sheep-skins, those iron men slept as quietly through wind and rain as if they had been in a snug room. one must have lived among the russians to have any idea of the apathy with which they bear all kinds of privations. their bodies, inured to the rigours of their climate, to the coarsest food, and most spartan habits, grow so hardened, that what would be mortal to others makes no injurious impression on them. at last the rain ceased towards the end of the third day. a west wind followed it, and dispersed the dark threatening clouds that had so long obscured the sky. though the weather seemed still unsettled, we determined to make for the caspian, which lay but thirty versts from us. my husband's anxiety to commence his surveying operations, and our eagerness to quit our detestable abode, gave us courage to risk the chance of another storm in the open steppe. but a very unexpected incident threw the station into confusion just as we were departing, and delayed us some hours longer. a kalmuck cossack, mounted on a camel, arrived in great haste and informed us that the armenian merchants, who had started the day before, had been attacked some distance from the station by a band of kalmucks and plundered of the greater part of their merchandise. our cossack officer, after listening with great indignation to this story, asked permission of my husband to pursue the robbers. the whole escort set off with him at a hard gallop, but the pursuit was ineffectual. the robbers, having had some hours' start, had already reached the sedges of the caspian. in consequence of this delay it was the afternoon before we could make a start, and even then we had great difficulty in getting away, for the terrified postmaster entreated us not to forsake him at a moment so critical. his dismay, for which indeed there was little reason, almost infected me too, and it was not without some apprehension of disaster that i left the station. the appearance of our caravan was curious and grotesque. our britchka was drawn by three camels, taken in tow by a man on foot, and several other animals of the same species, besides sumpter-horses, were mounted by kalmucks and cossacks. our escort followed, and all the men composing it, armed with sabres, guns, and pistols, looked martial enough to scare away the most daring thieves. the leader of the troop, the tatar prince, rode with his falcon on his fist, every now and then showing off his skill in horsemanship and venery. thinking no more of the morning alarm, i gave myself up to the liveliest anticipations of the extraordinary things which this excursion promised us. at last i was about to behold that caspian sea which, ever since men have been engaged with geographical questions, has been the object of their researches and conjectures. besides, it had a much more potent interest for us, for it was in a manner the sole aim and end of our journey; it was to solve an immemorial question concerning it, that we had abandoned the comforts of civilised life, and encountered so many annoyances and privations. notwithstanding my ignorance of science, i felt that in sharing my husband's toils, i was in some sort a partner in his learned researches, and that i too, like him, had my claims upon the caspian. i was, therefore, impatient to see it; but our camels, who had no such motives for hurrying themselves, crawled along at a provokingly slow rate. they did not at all correspond with what we had read of the ships of the desert, creatures insensible to hunger, thirst, and fatigue, and as obedient to the will of man as the dry leaf is to the breath of the wind. in spite of a thick cord passed through one of their nostrils, which caused them sharp pain whenever they were unruly, our camels scarcely marched more than two hours at a stretch without lying down. the men had to battle with them continually to rouse them from their torpor, or hinder them from biting one another. whenever one of the drivers pulled the halter of his camel roughly, we heard loud cries, the more hideous from their resemblance to the human voice. in short our camels behaved so badly during this short trip, as largely to abate the good opinion of their species, which we had conceived in reading the more poetical than true descriptions of our great naturalist. at some distance from houidouk we met two camps of kalmucks, improperly called christians. these tribes are reputed to be addicted to theft, and are generally despised by the other kalmucks. we will speak of them again in another place. this whole region, as far as the caspian, is extremely arid, with only here and there a few pools of brackish water, the edges of which swarm with countless birds, the most remarkable of which are the white herons, whose plumage forms such beautiful _aigrettes_. unfortunately, these birds are so wary, that our companion could not take one of them, notwithstanding all his address and the power of his falcon. a ludicrous misadventure that befel our dragoman, anthony, amused us a good deal. curiosity prompting him to ride a camel, he asked one of the kalmucks to lend him his beast, and the request being complied with, he bestrode the saddle, pleased with the novelty of the experiment, and quite at a loss to know why the cossacks and camel-drivers laughed among themselves as he mounted. but as soon as the beast began to move, a change came over his face, and he speedily began to bawl out for help. the fact is, one must be almost a kalmuck to be able to endure the trotting of a camel; the shaking is so violent as to amount to downright torture for those who are not accustomed to it. the unlucky anthony, left in the rear of the party, strove in vain to come up with us, and was obliged, in spite of himself, to continue his ride to the caspian, where we arrived two hours before him. i never saw a man so cut up. he groaned so piteously when he was lifted down, that we began to be really alarmed for him. there are in nature two opposite types, beauty and ugliness; the elements of which vary infinitely, though imagination always erroneously supposes it can fix their boundaries. how often are we fully persuaded we can never meet again an object so beautiful as that before us; yet no sooner have we lavished all our enthusiasm upon it, than a more charming face, a sublimer landscape, or a more graceful form makes us forget what we had regarded as the model of perfection; and itself is soon, in turn, dethroned by other objects which we declare superior to all our former idols. just so it is with ugliness. it matters not that we have before us the lowest grade we believe it can attain, we have but to turn our heads another way to be amazed and confounded by new discoveries revealing to us the inexhaustible combinations of nature. these reflections occurred to me more and more strongly as we approached koumskaia. the aridity of the steppes round odessa, the wilderness of the volga, the parched and dismal soil of the environs of astrakhan, in a word all we had heretofore seen that was least engaging, seemed lovely in comparison with what met our view on the banks of the caspian. a grey, sickly sky, crossed from time to time by heavy black clouds, threw an indescribably sad and revolting hue over the lonely, sandy plain, and low, broken shore. the same funereal pall seemed to hang over the wooden houses, the gangs of turkmans and kalmucks loading their carts with salt, and the camels that roamed along the shore mingling their dismal cries with the sound of the waves. yet hideous as it seemed to us, this part of the coast is not unimportant in a commercial point of view. it supplies large quantities of salt, and has a port where vessels unload their cargoes of corn for the army of the caucasus. we counted at least a score of vessels which had been driven in there by the late storm. the population of koumskaia consists of a russian functionary, a cossack post, and a few kalmuck families, that appear very miserable. the _employé_ gave us the use of his house; that is to say, of two dilapidated rooms without glass windows or furniture. one can scarcely conceive how the mind can have strength to endure so very wretched an existence. an unwholesome climate, brackish water, excessive heat in summer, rigorous cold in winter, huts and kibitkas buried in the sand, the caspian sea with its squalls and tempests--all these things combine to make this region the most horrible abode imaginable. the major, who welcomed us to koumskaia, had a slow fever, which he owed still less perhaps to the insalubrity of the climate than to the hardships and mortal ennui he had endured for eighteen months. his wife, more stout-hearted, and amused in some degree by her household occupations, had still preserved a certain cheerfulness, which was no less than heroic in her situation. their exile was to last in all two years. the government, perceiving that many _employés_ died in koumskaia, has limited the time of service there to that short period, and as some compensation for what those suffer who are sent thither, their two years are counted as four of ordinary service. the weather had been louring since we left houidouk, and we had a regular hurricane the evening we reached the caspian. it lasted four-and-twenty hours, and such was the noise of the wind and waves, that we could hardly hear each other speak in our room. we saw two or three kibitkas blown away into the sea, and we expected every moment to share the same fate, for our frail tenement creaked like the cabin of a ship; the boarded window let in such a current of air, as soon drove into the room all the garments with which we strove to stop the chinks. but the saddest chapter of our history remains to be narrated. as soon as our servant had prepared the samovar, and lighted the candles, a multitude of black creatures crept out of the chinks of the walls and ceilings, and dropped from all sides like a living rain. imagine our consternation at the sight of that legion of black demons swarming around us, and leaving us no alternative but to put out the candles that attracted them. these insects, called in the country _tarakans_, though disgusting in appearance, are very inoffensive, and seldom climb on the person; but they are fond of light and heat, and hence they are a grievous nuisance in these regions, where their number is prodigious. i had already seen them in some post-houses, but in small numbers, and though i had always disliked them, i had never been so horrified by them as in the house of the major, where they kept me awake all night. next morning, the wind having fallen somewhat, we went, in spite of the rain, to gather shells on the shore. the vessels in the harbour all showed signs of having suffered severely by the storm. the waters of the caspian had a livid, muddy colour i never observed in any other sea in the most boisterous weather. when we returned to our cabin, the cossack officer presented to us a tatar, who asserted he had found gold in a spot forty versts from koumskaia. having heard of our arrival, he had walked all that horrible night to ask my husband to accompany him to the spot where he had made the discovery. but in spite of the gold ear and finger-rings he exhibited as tokens of his veracity, my husband was not tempted to lose four or five days in a search that would have led to nothing, to judge from the nature of the ground in which the tatar reported that the precious ore was to be found. chapter xxiii. another robbery at houidouk--our nomade life--camels--kalmuck camp--quarrel with a turcoman convoy, and reconciliation-- love of the kalmucks for their steppes; anecdote--a satza-- selenoi sastava--fleeced by a lieutenant-colonel--camel-drivers beaten by the kalmucks--alarm of a circassian incursion-- sources of the manitch--the journey arrested--visit to a kalmuck lady--hospitality of a russian officer. on returning to houidouk, we found the postmaster in still greater perturbation than he had been cast into by the disaster of the armenian merchants. one of his postillions had been seized but two versts from the station by turkmans, who, after robbing him of his sheep-skin and his tobacco, had beaten him and left him half dead, and then made off with the three horses he was taking back to the station. the strangest part of the adventure was, that on the morning of the next day, which happened to be that of our arrival, the three horses returned quietly to their stable, as if nothing extraordinary had befallen. this proved, at least, that the robbers were not very confident, but chose rather to lose their booty than expose themselves to the vengeance of the cossacks. though such stories were not very encouraging to us, we nevertheless set out early next morning, entirely forsaking the post road we had till then pursued, and striking across the steppes with a weak escort, very insufficient to resist a serious attack. my husband, who had already begun his course of levels, resumed his operations from the station at houidouk. having to make one every ten minutes, he proceeded on foot, as well as the kalmucks and cossacks who carried the instruments and measured the distances. all the men were occupied except the camel drivers and the officer, who amused himself with flying his falcon now and then at wild ducks and geese. besides its positive and gastronomic results, this sport did me the further service of withdrawing my mind from the monotony of a slow march across the desert, in which i had often no other pastime than watching the grotesque movements of the three camels that drew my carriage, or the capricious evolutions of the flocks of birds that were already assembling for their autumnal emigration. yet the impression made on me by this first day did not tend much to alarm me at the prospect of wandering, like a veritable kalmuck, for several weeks across the steppe. the novelty of my sensations, and the secret pleasure of escaping for awhile from the round of prescribed habits that make up the chief part of civilised life, banished from my mind every sombre thought. the excursion was an experimental glimpse of those natural ways of life which are no longer possible in our thickly-peopled lands; and in spite of my prejudices, a nomade existence no longer seemed to me so absurd or wearisome as i had supposed it to be. the quiet and the immensity of space around us imparted a deep serenity to my mind, and fortified it against any remains of fear occasioned by the late events at houidouk. we made our first halt about noon, not at all too soon for our cossacks, a race not accustomed to long walking. they immediately made a great fire, whilst our camel-drivers were busy setting up the tents and arranging a regular encampment. the sun had reappeared with more force than before, as usually happens after violent storms. the heat of the vertical sunshine, increased by the bare parched soil and by the extraordinary dryness of the air, had so overcome us that we could scarcely attend to the picturesque group presented by our halt in the desert, over which we appeared to reign as absolute masters. the britchka, unyoked and unladen, was placed a little way from, the tent, on the carpet of which were heaped portfolios, cushions, and boxes, in a manner which a painter would have thought worth notice. whilst we were taking tea our men were making preparations for dinner, some plucking a fine wild goose and half-a-dozen kourlis, others attending to the fire, round which were ranged two or three pots for the pilau and the bacon soup, of which the cossacks are great admirers; and anthony with a little barrel of brandy under his arm, distributed the regular dram to every man, with the gravity of a german major-domo. as for the officer, he lay on his back under the britchka, for sake of the shade, amusing himself with his hawk, which he had unhooded, after fastening it with a stout cord to the carriage. though the creature's sparkling eyes were continually on the look out for a quarry, it seemed by the continual flapping of its wings to enjoy its master's caresses. the camels, rejoicing in their freedom, browsed at a little distance from the tent, and contributed by their presence to give an oriental aspect to our first essay in savage life; wherein i myself figured in my huge bonnet, dressed as usual in wide pantaloons, with a gaulish tunic gathered round my waist by a leathern belt. by dint of wondering at every thing, our wonderment at last wore itself out, and we regarded ourselves as definitively naturalised kalmucks. three hours before we halted, the last kibitkas had disappeared below the horizon: we were absolutely alone on the whole surface of the vast plain. there was no vestige to tell us that other men had encamped where we were. the steppe is like the sea; it retains no trace of those who have traversed it. at two o'clock hommaire gave the word to march: the tent was struck; the camels knelt to receive their burdens; the officer was in the saddle with his hawk on his fist; and i was again alone in the carriage, slowly following our little troop as it resumed its operations. my first night under a tent proved to me that i was not so acclimated to the steppe as my vanity had led me to suppose. the felt cone under which i was to sleep; the kalmucks moving about the fire; the camels sending their plaintive cries through the immensity of the desert; in a word, every thing i saw and heard, was so at variance with my habits and ways of thought, that i almost fancied i was in an opium dream. we spent part of the night seated before the tent, our reveries unbroken by any inclination to sleep. the moon, larger and more brilliant than it ever appears in the west, lighted the whole sky and part of the steppe, over which it cast a luminous line like that which a vessel leaves in its wake at sea. absolute silence reigned in the air, and produced upon us an effect which no words can describe. hardly did we dare to break it, so solemn did it seem, and so in harmony with the infinite grandeur of the waste. it would be in vain to look for a stillness so complete, even in the most sequestered solitudes of our regions. there is always some murmuring brook there, some rustling leaves; and even in the silence of night, some low sounds are heard, that give an object to the thoughts. but here nature is petrified, and one has constantly before him the image of that eternal repose which our minds can so hardly conceive. we marched for several days without meeting one living creature. this part of the steppes is inhabited only in winter; for during the rest of the year it is completely destitute of fresh water. at last, towards the close of the fourth day, we saw a black object in motion on the horizon. the officer instantly galloped off to reconnoitre, waving his cap in the air, for a signal of command. in a few seconds we were sure he was perceived, for we distinguished the form of a kalmuck mounted on a camel approaching us. he was hailed with shouts of joy by our men, who soon fastened on him, and overwhelmed him with questions. the eagerness of nomades to hear news is unbounded, and it is wonderful with what rapidity the knowledge of the most trivial event is conveyed from one tribe to another. the new comer told us that our journey was already known all over the steppes, and that we should soon fall in with an encampment of kalmucks, who had moved forward on purpose to see us. the presence of this man put all our men in the gayest humour. desirous of doing due honour to his arrival, they deputed anthony to solicit from us a double ration of spirits. they passed all the early part of the night sitting round the fire, smoking their tchibouks, and telling stories, as grave and as entranced in the charms of conversation as bedouins. next day our little caravan was in motion before sunrise; the kalmuck set off alone for the fair of kisliar, and we took the opposite direction, pursuing the invisible line which science traced for us across the desert, and which was to lead us to the sources of the manitch. it was on this morning i took my first ride on the back of a camel, and i vowed it should be the last. decidedly the camel is the most detestable quadruped to ride in the world. from the moment you mount until you descend from that murderous perch you have to endure an incessant series of shocks, so violent and sudden, that every joint in your body feels dislocated. i could now feel for the sufferings of our poor dragoman during his long trot from houidouk to the caspian. though my experiment was limited to a trip of two versts at the most, i was totally exhausted when i dismounted. not long afterwards i had an opportunity of observing a curious instance of the vindictive temper of these rough trotters. the camel, as every one knows, is a ruminating animal, but few, perhaps, are aware that he has the cunning to make his rumination subservient to his vengeance in a very extraordinary and ingenious manner. i had noticed in the morning that one of our camel-drivers seemed to be on very bad terms with his beast. in vain he strove to master it by severity, and by pulling the cord passed through its nostril; the brute was obstinate, and threw itself every moment rebelliously on the ground. at last the kalmuck, incensed beyond endurance, took advantage of a general halt, and alighted to give the camel a sound drubbing. but the creature, disdainfully lifting up its long neck, followed all its master's movements with so spiteful an eye, that i was sure it had some wicked scheme in its head. it waited patiently till the kalmuck stood in front of it, and then, opening its great mouth, it let fly a charge of chewed grass mixed with mucus and all sorts of nastiness, and hit the poor driver full in the face. to tell with what an air of satisfied vengeance the camel again reared its neck and turned its head from side to side, as if looking round for applause, would be totally impossible. but what astonished me the most was the moderation of the master after such an outrage. he wiped his face very coolly, got into the saddle again, and patted the neck of his ill-bred brute, as if it had played the most amiable and innocent little trick imaginable. good fellowship was thenceforth re-established between them, and they jogged peaceably along together, without thinking any more of what had happened. it happens by a rare good fortune, that no noxious insect is found in the steppes between the caspian and the caucasus. of course it was not until i was quite sure of this that i could sleep in peace. our tent, made of felt like those of the kalmucks, was at most five feet high and as many wide. it was supported by a bundle of sticks tied together at the ends; the interior, furnished with a carpet and cushions laid on the ground, contained, besides, some boxes belonging to the britchka. a flap of felt formed the door. as the tent narrowed toward the top, we could not stand within it, but were obliged to kneel. such was our dwelling for six weeks; and i can aver, that notwithstanding the hardness of our bed on the ground, and the strangeness of our situation, i never slept so soundly as during that period of my life. nothing is better for the health than living in the open air; the appetite, the sleep, the unutterable serenity of mind, and the free circulation of the blood which it procures, sufficiently attest its happy influence on our organisation. few functional maladies, i suspect, would resist a two or three months' excursion like that which we accomplished. as the kalmuck had foretold, we arrived at night in a kalmuck camp, consisting of a score of tents. all the men came to meet us, took the camels from the britchka, and would not allow our people to lend a hand; then having pitched our tent a little way off from their own, at the foot of a tumulus, they began to dance with their women, in token of rejoicing. one of the latter went down on her knees and begged some tobacco of my husband, and when she had got it she became an object of envy to her companions, before whom she hastened to display and smoke it. when night had fallen, the camp was lighted up with numerous fires, which gave a still more curious aspect to the kibitkas, and the dancing figures of the kalmucks and cossacks, whose exuberant gaiety was in part owing to an extraordinary distribution of food and brandy. the women advanced in their turn, and several of them forming a circle, danced in the same manner as the ladies of honour of the princess tumene. but they all seemed to me extremely ugly, though some of them were very young. two days afterwards we arrived at the edge of a pond, where we arranged to pass the night. the sight of the water, and of the thousands of birds on its surface, afforded us real delight; there needed but such a little thing, under such circumstances as ours, to constitute an event, and occupy the imagination! all that evening was spent in shooting and hawking, bathing, and walking round and round the pool. we could not satiate ourselves with the pleasure of beholding that brackish mud, and the forest of reeds that encompassed it. no landscape on the alps or the tyrol was probably ever hailed with so much enthusiasm. beyond this pond, the appearance of the steppes gradually changed; water grew less rare, the vegetation less scorched. we saw from time to time herds of more than five hundred camels, grazing in freedom on the short thick grass. some of them were of gigantic height. i shall never forget the amazement they manifested at beholding us. the moment they perceived us they hurried towards, then stopped short, gazing at us with outstretched necks until we were out of sight. the eighth day after our departure from houidouk our fresh water was so sensibly diminished, that we were obliged to use brackish water in cooking. this change in our kitchen routine fortunately lasted but a few days; but it was enough to give me a hearty aversion for meats so cooked: they had so disagreeable a taste, that nothing but necessity and long habit can account for their ordinary use. the kalmucks and cossacks, however, use no other water during a great part of the year. that same day we had a very singular encounter, which went near to be tragical. shortly before encamping, we saw a very long file of small carts approaching us; our kalmucks recognised them as belonging to turkmans, a sort of people held in very bad repute, by reason of their quarrelsome and brutal temper. every untoward event that happens in the steppes is laid to their account, and there is perpetual warfare between them and the cossacks, to whom they give more trouble than all the other tribes put together. as we advanced, an increased confusion was manifest in the convoy, and suddenly all the oxen, as if possessed by the fiend, exhibited the most violent terror, and began to run away in wild disorder, dashing against each other, upsetting and breaking the carts loaded with salt, wholly regardless of the voices and blows of their drivers. some moments elapsed before we could account for this strange disaster, and comprehend the meaning of the furious abuse with which the turkmans assailed our escort. the camel-drivers were the real culprits in this affair, for they knew by experience how much horses and oxen are frightened by the sight of a camel, and they ought to have moved out of the direct line of march, and not exposed us to the rage of the fierce carters. the moment immediately after the catastrophe was really critical. all the turkmans, incensed at the sight of the broken carts and their salt strewed over the ground, seemed, by their threatening gestures and vociferations, to be debating whether or not they should attack us. a single imprudent gesture might have been fatal to us, for they were more than fifty, and armed with cutlasses; but the steady behaviour of the escort gradually quieted them. instead of noticing their hostile demonstrations, all our men set to work to repair the mischief, and the turkmans soon followed their example; in less than an hour all was made right again, and the scene of confusion ended much more peaceably than we had at first ventured to hope. all parties now thought only of the comical part of the adventure, and hearty laughter supplanted the tokens of strife. to seal the reconciliation, hommaire ordered a distribution of brandy, which completely won the hearts of the fellows, who a little before had been on the point of murdering us. the more we became accustomed to the stillness and grandeur of the desert, the better we understood the kalmuck's passionate love for the steppes and his kibitka. if happiness consist in freedom, no man is more happy than he. habituated as he is to gaze over a boundless expanse, to endure no restriction, and to pitch his tent wherever his humour dictates, it is natural that he should feel ill at ease, cribbed, cabined, and confined, when removed from his native wastes, and that he should rather die by his own hand than live in exile. during our stay at astrakhan, every one was talking of a recent event which afforded us an instance of the strong attachment of those primitive beings to the natal soil. a kalmuck chief killed his cossack rival in a fit of jealousy, and instead of attempting to escape punishment by flight, he augmented his guilt by resisting a detachment which was sent to arrest him. several of his servants aided him, but numbers prevailed; all were made prisoners and conveyed to a fort, where they were to remain until their sentence should have been pronounced. a month afterwards, an order arrived for their transportation to siberia, but by that time three-fourths of the captives had ceased to exist. some had died of grief, others had eluded the vigilance of their gaolers, and killed themselves. the chief, however, had been too closely watched to allow of his making any attempt on his own life, but his obstinate silence, and the deep dejection of his haggard features, proved plainly that his despair was not less than that which had driven his companions to suicide. when he was placed in the car to begin his journey, some kalmucks were allowed to approach and bid him farewell. "what can we do for thee?" they whispered; the chief only replied, "you know." thereupon one of the kalmucks drew a pistol from his pocket, and before the bystanders had time to interpose, he blew out the chief's brains. the faces of the two other prisoners beamed with joy. "thanks for him," they cried; "as for us, we shall never see siberia." i have not yet spoken of the kalmuck _satzas_, and the desire we felt to become acquainted with them. from the moment we had entered the waste, we had never ceased to sweep the horizon in hopes to discover one of these mysterious tombs, from which the kalmucks always keep aloof, in order not to profane them by their presence. these satzas are small temples erected on purpose to contain the remains of the high priests. when one of them dies, his body is burned, and his ashes are deposited with great pomp in the mausoleum prepared to receive them, along with a quantity of sacred images, which are so many good genii placed there to keep watch eternally over the dust of the holy personage. before we left astrakhan, we had taken care to collect all possible information respecting these satzas, in order to visit one of them during our journey through the steppes, and rifle it, if possible, of its contents. but as the religious jealousy of our kalmucks had hitherto prevented us from making any researches of the kind, we determined at last to trust to chance for the gratification of our wishes. it was at one day's journey from selenoi sastava that we had for the first time the satisfaction of perceiving one of these monuments. great was our delight, notwithstanding the difficulty of approaching it, and eluding the keen watch of our camel-drivers; nay, the obstacles in our way did but give the more zest to our pleasure. there were precautions to be taken, a secret to be kept, and novelty to be enjoyed; all this gave enhanced interest to the satza, and delightfully broke the monotony that had oppressed us for so many days. all our measures were therefore taken with extreme prudence and deliberation. we halted for breakfast at a reasonable distance from the satza, so that our camel-drivers might not conceive any suspicion; and during the repast anthony and the officer, who had received their instructions from us, took care to say that we intended to catch a few white herons before we resumed our march. the kalmucks, being aware of the value we attached to those birds, heard the news as a matter of course, and rejoiced at the opportunity of indulging in a longer doze. the satza stood in the midst of the sands, five or six versts from our halting-place. to reach it we had to make a long detour, in order to deceive the kalmucks, in case they conceived any suspicion of our design. all this was difficult enough, and extremely fatiguing; still i insisted on making one in the expedition, and was among the first mounted. after two hours' marching and countermarching over the sands, in a tropical temperature that quite dispirited our beasts, we arrived in front of the satza, the appearance of which was any thing but attractive, and seemed far from deserving the pains we had taken to see it. it was a small square building, of a grey colour, with only two holes by way of windows. fancy our consternation when we found that there was no door. we all marched round and round the impenetrable sanctuary in a state of ludicrous disappointment. some means or other was to be devised for getting in, for the thought of returning without satisfying our curiosity never once entered our heads. the removal of some stones from one of the windows afforded us a passage, very inconvenient indeed, but sufficient. like conquerors we entered the satza through a breach, like mahomet entering the capital of the lower empire; but we had not thought of the standard, which was indispensable for the strict accomplishment of the usual ceremonies. instead thereof, hommaire had recourse to his silk handkerchief, and planting it on the summit of the mausoleum, he took possession of it in the name of all present and future travellers. this ceremony completed, we made a minute inspection of the interior of the tomb, but found in it nothing extraordinary: it appeared to be of great antiquity. some idols of baked clay, like those we had seen at prince tumene's, were ranged along the wall. several small notches, at regular intervals, contained images half decayed by damp. the floor of beaten earth, and part of the walls were covered with felt: such were the sole decorations we beheld. like generous victors we contented ourselves with taking two small statues, and a few images. according to the notions of the kalmucks, no sacrilege can compare with that of which we were now guilty. yet no celestial fire reduced us to ashes, and the grand llama allowed us to return in peace to our escort. but a great vexation befel us, for one of the idols was broken by the way, and we had to supplicate the boukhans of the steppe to extend their protection to the other, during the rest of the journey. anthony and the officer were questioned at great length by the kalmucks, who seemed possessed by some uneasy misgivings. on awaking, they had seen us return in the direction that led from the satza, and this circumstance had much annoyed them. the display of some game, however, with which we had taken care to furnish ourselves, and the peremptory tone of the officer, cut short all their observations. on the day after this memorable adventure, anthony informed us that there was no more bread. the news obliged my husband to suspend his scientific operations, and proceed to selenoi sastava, from which we were distant only thirty-five versts. i cannot express the delight with which the kalmucks and cossacks again took possession of their camels. we need not wonder at any eccentricity of taste when we see men preferring the dislocating torture of riding those detestable trotters to the fatigue of walking fifteen or twenty versts a day. hommaire, too, did not seem at all dissatisfied at taking his place again in the britchka. in short, we were all like a set of schoolboys that had got an unexpected holiday. before reaching the salt-works, where we intended to ask for hospitality, we passed some kalmuck camps; carts loaded with salt appeared in different directions. the desert was assuming a more animated aspect, and we were no longer alone between the sky and the steppe. on arriving at selenoi, we were taken to the house of the sub-inspector of the salt-works (the inspector was absent). we found that functionary in a most miserable hole, compared with which the hut at houidouk was a palace. we had never seen such horrid deficiency of all needful accommodation even among the poorest russian peasants. we were received by a little weasel-faced man in a uniform so old and tarnished, that neither the colour of the cloth nor the lace was distinguishable. his manifestations of bewildered joy--his volubility that savoured almost of insanity--and his incessant importunity, completed our disgust. the house, a heap of ruins, kept from falling by a few half-rotten posts, was abominably filthy. we were assigned the least dilapidated chamber, but it took more than two hours to clear away the clouds of dust raised by anthony in sweeping it. the windows were without frames, the doors were broken, and furniture there was none. how we regretted that we had not encamped as usual on the steppe. we tried to quit the house, but the lieutenant-colonel (for our host bore that title in addition to that of sub-inspector) made such an outcry, that we were obliged, whether we would or not, to resign ourselves to his singular hospitality. to make up for the want of furniture, we did like the turks, and made a carpet and cushions on the ground serve us for a bed and a divan. having completed these first arrangements, we proceeded to ask our host if he had bread enough to spare us some. having learned from our escort the reason of our coming, he was prepared with his answer. our presence was too great a piece of good luck for a man in his extreme state of destitution to allow of our escaping out of his hands until he had made the most of us. accordingly, he protested he could not possibly provide what we wanted in less than three or four days, and we had every reason to think we should be fortunate enough if we got out of his clutches so cheaply. the event proved that our suspicions were not unjust, and his conduct towards us, his indecorous demands, his cupidity and his thefts sufficiently explained the motives of his extravagant delight at our arrival. on the first day of our sojourn with him, tempted by a fine wild goose which anthony had roasted in the tent of his kalmuck cook, he sent to beg permission to dine with us, and presently arrived, holding in his hand a plate of paltry crusts dried in the oven, which he presented to us as excellent _zouckari_. during all the time of dinner he diverted us exceedingly by his insatiable gluttony and continual babbling: nor was it the least amusing part of the performance to see him despatch to his own share a half mouldy loaf he had sold us that morning for a ruble and a half. the camel-drivers proceeded, during our stay at selenoi, to a neighbouring camp to get fresh camels instead of their own, which had been fatigued by more than a fortnight's marching. they promised to return within twenty-four hours, but we did not see them again till two days had elapsed, and then in a very sorry plight. according to the account given by one of them, who was the first to arrive in great tribulation, they had behaved rather roughly to the kalmucks who were to furnish them with the camels, and the latter had retaliated by beating them, tieing them hand and foot, and carrying them before one of their inspectors, who kept them in confinement until the next day. i never saw a more woe-begone set than these unfortunate camel-drivers appeared on their return: one of them had his head bandaged, another wore his arm in a sling, a third limped, and all had been very roughly handled. this adventure, and the gross cupidity of the lieutenant-colonel, were not the only things that occurred to amuse or interest us at selenoi. on the third day of our stay, a great number of kalmuck families suddenly arrived in strange disorder, and announced that the circassians had just shown themselves three versts from the salt-works, on the borders of the kouma. terrible was the consternation produced by this news. both kalmucks and cossacks were terrified at the thought of having the circassians so near them. our whole escort came and implored us on their knees not to set out until something positive was known of the matter. but after many inquiries we were satisfied that the alarm was groundless, and we did not delay our preparations to depart. our host was surely the oddest being this world ever produced. in spite of ourselves, he was the sole object of our thoughts every moment in the day. anthony, who had taken no little aversion to him, lost no opportunity of informing us of what he called his turpitudes. for instance, every morning he was sure to be seen in ambush behind the door until our samovar was ready, when he would come in smiling with his cup and spoon in his hand, without even waiting for an invitation, seat himself at the table, and wash down his zouckaris with three or four cups of tea. one day he begged a few spoonfuls of rum of my husband, for a sick person, as he said; but that evening his jollity and the redness of his face told us plainly what had become of our liquor. he even found it so much to his taste, that he entreated anthony next day to give him a few more spoonfuls on the sly, telling him very seriously that the cat had spilled the first cup. he gave us no peace night or day. not content with deafening us by his incessant babbling, not a word of which we understood, the whim would sometimes seize him to sing all the malorussian airs that came into his head. long after we were in bed one night, we heard him pacing up and down the corridor like a sentinel. we tried hard to guess what might be the meaning of this new freak; but next day we discovered that it proceeded from his excessive vigilance and forethought. he failed not himself to tell us, that feeling uneasy at the news that the circassians were abroad, he had kept guard over us with his musket shouldered, and that he was ready to perform the same duty every night. could we remain untouched by such conduct? could we refuse such a man the parcels of coffee, tea, and sugar he had been so long soliciting with looks and hints? unfortunately his requests followed so close on each other, that our gratitude was worn out at last. anthony was furious every time we yielded to his importunities, and ceased not in revenge to torment him in a thousand ways. one day the jealous dragoman, of his own authority, served up dinner an hour before the usual time, in order to baffle our host, who accordingly did not arrive until we were just quitting the table. i never saw a man more disappointed; he stood at the door, not knowing whether to enter or not; at last, doomed to forego his dinner, he knew nothing better to do in his despair than to go and cudgel his kalmuck. on the eve of our departure we learned that he had charged us for the bread he sold us more than double the price paid at the barracks. this occasioned a very lively altercation between him and anthony, who was delighted to have such an opportunity of speaking out his mind. but the honourable functionary was not to be disconcerted by such a trifle; after listening with imperturbable coolness to the dragoman's reproaches, he replied in a very off-hand manner that the thing was not worth talking about, for when people travel, they must make up their minds to pay a ducat in most cases for what is not worth more than twenty copeks. he became extremely sulky when he observed our preparations to depart. he no longer talked, but contented himself with restlessly watching all that was going on in the room; peering at every article of our baggage, as if he would look through and through it. whenever our men carried any thing to the carriage, he followed them with angry looks, as if they were committing a robbery upon him. at last, on the sixth day after our arrival at selenoi sastava, we had the pleasure to turn our backs on the lieutenant-colonel and his miserable cabin. i doubt if the fear of the circassians would have been able to detain us longer in such a spot. the dryness of the atmosphere, which had lasted from the time we left houidouk, was succeeded by heavy rain when we reached selenoi, and this was the chief cause of our long stay there. on the day of our departure the sky looked rather threatening, notwithstanding which we stepped into the carriage with inexpressible delight. i would rather have taken my chance of ten deluges in the open steppe, than have spent twenty-four hours more in selenoi; but fortune was pleased to compensate us in some degree for our recent vexations by affording us the most agreeable weather that travellers could desire. the rain had given the sand a pleasant degree of solidity, and had, besides, spread a mild and subdued tone over the steppes that was peculiarly agreeable. autumn was now come, with its sharp morning air and its melancholy tints; and accustomed as we had been to the scorching reverberation of the sunshine, we felt as if an earthly paradise was opening before us. in one day more the sky was cleared of its last vapours, and reappeared in all its azure purity, streaked only with a few rich and warm-coloured clouds, that seemed to take away the aridity of the desert. but the sun had lost much of its power, and though it shone down on us without obstruction, we reached the sources of the manitch without being much inconvenienced by the heat. these sources are formed by a depression of about twenty-five versts in diameter, towards which converge several small ravines. they were quite dry when we arrived at them, and all the vicinity, intercepted by small brackish lakes, displayed no kind of vegetation. the total want of water and fodder hindered us from proceeding to the don, as we had intended, and my husband was obliged to suspend his levelling operations. it was not, of course, without sore regret that he put off the solution of his great scientific problem until the following year. our men were in good spirits, our health excellent, and we were by no means prepared to expect such an obstacle as that which now stopped us in a course we had pursued with such perseverance; but nature commanded, and we were forced to obey. we passed the night near the sources in the midst of a total solitude, and early next morning we retraced our steps, and proceeded towards the kouma, distant about seventy-five versts; the men were all mounted again on their camels, and seemed well pleased to have no more pedestrian labours in prospect; for with all their willingness, they had not been able to accustom their limbs to that sort of service. we encamped for two nights successively among kalmucks, for the steppes grew less lonely as we departed from our first course. these good people heard the story of our journey through their plains with eager curiosity. as soon as supper was over they squatted themselves round our kibitka, lending a religious attention to the most improbable tales, for our men, who took upon them the office of historiographers, paid very little respect to truth in their compositions. one of our camel-drivers, especially, had been endowed by heaven with an imagination of extraordinary fecundity. it was his peculiar office to amuse the whole escort during the bivouac, and when he had to do with a new audience, his captivating eloquence attained the utmost limits of possibility, enchanting even those who heard him every day. the last encampment in which we passed the night was one of the most considerable we had seen up to that time. the country, indeed, had entirely changed its aspect; we had left the dreary sands behind us, with the caspian and the manitch. an abundant vegetation, and undulations of the ground that became more and more decided as we proceeded, gladdened the sight, and accounted for the numerous encampments we discovered in all directions. herds of horses, camels, and oxen spotted all the surface of the steppe, and bespoke the wealth of the hordes to which they belonged. we were not in the least molested by the latter. these good kalmucks were delighted to receive us in their tents, and never attempted to steal the least thing from us. their desires and their wants are so very limited! to tame a wild horse, to roam from steppe to steppe on their camels, to smoke and drink koumis, to shut themselves up in winter in the midst of ashes and smoke, and to addict themselves to the superstitious practices of a religion they cannot understand,--such is the whole sum of their lives. i had the curiosity frequently to enter their kibitkas, but i never saw in any of them the dirt i had been told of. the russian kates are infinitely more untidy and squalid that the interiors of these tents. among other visits we made one to the wife of a subaltern chief, and as she had been warned of our coming, she was dressed in her best finery. she sat with her legs tucked under her on a piece of felt, with a child before her, and a servant-woman motionless at her side. she was delighted to receive us, and thanked us with much cordiality. we complimented her on the neatness and good order of her tent, at which she seem gratified in the highest degree. we remarked with surprise that there was not one priest in all the camps we passed through, but we afterwards learned that they were all gone northwards to the sarpa, where there were much finer pastures, and where one was not tormented by the myriads of gnats that abound in those countries in autumn. we ourselves had much to endure from those terrible insects all the way to vladimirofka, and we were often so annoyed by them as to wish ourselves back among the sands of the manitch. even if the want of water had not put a stop to our journey, the state of our provisions was such that i hardly know what we could have done. our bacon, rice, coffee, and biscuits had long disappeared; we had nothing left but a small stock of tea and sugar, and for the rest we were dependent on the hawk, which did wonders daily in supplying the deficiencies of our commissariat. our last repast under the tent consisted only of game cooked in all sorts of ways. anthony, who to his functions as dragoman, added those of butler, cook, and scullion, put forth all his powers on that occasion: but we had been surfeited with game; we had lived upon it so long that the sight of a wild goose was enough to give us a fit of indigestion. it was, therefore, with exceeding joy that on reaching the house of an inspector of kalmucks, we found ourselves seated at a table covered with vegetables and pastry. the house of that officer (a very agreeable young russian who spoke kalmuck like a native) was situated at a little distance from the kouma in a magnificent meadow. for a long while we had beheld no such landscape, and though we were still on the verge of the desert, that little white house with green window blinds, and the two or three handsome trees around it, completely changed the physiognomy of the country in our eyes. the inspector gave us a good deal of information respecting the proprietor of vladimirofka, of whom we had already heard at astrakhan, and he offered to accompany us to the establishment, which was barely ten versts distant. it was there we proposed to rest and recruit ourselves after the fatigues of our journey, and to take a final leave of our escort. chapter xxiv. review of the history of the kalmucks. the account we have given of our journey on the banks of the volga, and the steppes of the caspian, will have afforded the reader an idea of the strange and striking habits of the nomade hordes that wander with their flocks over those vast deserts, and worship their llamite deities with all the pomp and fervour of the nations of thibet. our historical and political sketch will serve as a complement to those primary notions. it is by no means our intention, however, to give a complete history of the kalmucks; such a work would be too extensive, and would require too long and arduous researches to be compressed within our limits. at present we shall only cast a rapid glance over the past history of the great mongol families; we shall dwell principally upon their actual condition, and then comparing our own observations with the statements of preceding writers, we shall try to cast some new light on the history of the asiatic races that occupy the south of russia. pallas and b. bergmann, the only travellers who have taken pains to investigate the history of the kalmucks in the government of astrakhan, have left us some valuable details respecting their manners and customs, and their religion. but pallas travelled in , and circumstances have greatly changed since his day. b. bergmann visited the kalmucks in the early part of this century, and it is to be regretted that his work, which contains such important information respecting the languages and the religious books of the mongols, takes no notice whatever of any matter connected with their political administration and organisation. it is not surprising that so little is yet known of the kalmuck hordes, for excursions through the remote steppes of the caspian sea present difficulties and hardships which few travellers can withstand. one must unquestionably be impelled by a strong motive, to traverse those immense plains which are almost everywhere destitute of fresh water, where one often marches leagues without seeing a trace of human life, and where the soil, bare of vegetation, offers no other variety than sands and brackish lakes. yet in order to form an exact idea of the inhabitants of these deserts, of their character, and ways of life, it is necessary to dwell beneath their tents. it is in the vicinity of sarepta that the traveller arriving from the north meets the first kalmuck kibitkas. the camps then stretch away across the manitch and the kouma towards the foot of the great caucasian chain. we have explored all that extent of country, have visited the remotest parts of the steppes, and seen the kalmucks in an advanced social stage at prince tumene's, and in a primitive condition beneath their tents. it is thus we have been enabled to collect our information respecting the history and present condition of this unique people of europe. according to the unanimous opinion of all historians, the regions adjoining the altai mountains, and especially those south of that great chain, appear to have been from time immemorial the cradle and domain of the mongol tribes. at first divided into two branches, always at war with each other, the mongols were at last united into one great nation under the celebrated genghis khan, and thus was laid the basis of that formidable power which was to invade almost the whole of eastern europe. but after the death of genghis khan, the old discord broke out with renewed violence, and only ended with the mutual destruction of the two great mongol tribes. the mongols proper were forced to submit to the chinese, whom they had formerly vanquished, and the four nations that formed the doerboen oeroet, scattered themselves over all the north of asia. the koïtes, after long wars, spread over mongolia and thibet; the touemmoites or toummouts settled along the great wall of china, where they remain to this day; the bourga burates, who already in the time of genghis khan inhabited the mountains adjacent to lake barkal, are now beneath the russian sceptre; the eleuthes, the last of the four, are better known in europe and western asia under the appellation of kalmucks. according to ancient national traditions, the greater part of the eleuthes made an expedition westward, and were lost in the caucasus, long before the time of genghis khan. it is to that epoch that some historians refer the origin of the word kalmuck, which they derive from _kalimak_, _severed_, _left behind_, and they suppose this designation was applied to all those eleuthes who did not accompany their brethren westward. according to bergmann, _kalimak_ signifies likewise _unbeliever_, and this name may very naturally have been given by the people of asia who adhered to the primitive religion, to the eleuthes, when they had become converts to buddhism. we leave to competent judges the task of deciding which is the more rational or probable explanation. the eleuthes or kalmucks allege that they dwelt in old times in the countries lying between koho noor (blue lake) and thibet. their division into four great tribes, each under an independent prince, dates probably from the dissolution of the mongol power. these tribes, whose remains exist to this day, are the koshotes, derbetes, soongars, and torghouts. the koshotes, whose chiefs consider themselves to be lineally descended from a brother of genghis khan, were partly destroyed in intestine wars with the torghouts and soongars, and partly subjugated by china. only a small remnant of them accompanied the derbetes to the banks of the volga. the soongars originally united with the derbetes, constituted the most formidable tribe in asia, in the beginning of the seventeenth century. their princes, who resided on the river ily, had then subdued all the other kalmucks; they could bring , fighting men into the field, and the khirghis and turkmans paid them tribute. their pride augmented with their success, and a war they undertook against the chinese mongols became the cause of their downfall. the soongars were enslaved or scattered, and a branch of the derbetes shared their fate. it was about this period that the first emigration of kalmucks took place into russia; , soongar or torgout families encamped on the banks of the volga, in , and astrakhan owed its safety only to the death of their prince cho orloëk, who was slain in an assault on the town. subsequently, however, about , daitchink, the son of cho orloëk, was forced to acknowledge himself a vassal of the empire, and to swear fealty. his example was followed by his son. but this submission was merely nominal, and did not at all affect the real independence of the mongol hordes. the first kalmuck emigrations towards the west were speedily followed by others. the derbetes and other torghouts arrived in the steppes of the caspian and volga to the number of more than , tents. in , aiouki khan, grandson of daitchink, an enterprising and ambitious man, succeeded, in defiance of russia, in extending his sway over all the kalmuck tribes. this chief pushed his excursions up to the foot of the caucasus, and being opposed on his march by the nogais of the kouban, he completely defeated them in a general engagement. the bodies of his slain foes were cast by his orders into a pit dug under a great tumulus, situated on the field of battle, and still known in the country by the name of _bairin tolkon_ (mountain of joy), bestowed on it by the victorious khan in memory of his triumph. aiouki's forces then took part in peter the great's famous expedition against persia, in which they rendered great services to russia. the kalmuck prince had a brilliant interview on this occasion with the tzar. peter received him on board his galley on the volga, near saratof, and treated him and his wife with all the honours due to sovereigns. aiouki was then at the height of his power, and cared little for the oath of allegiance to russia taken by his predecessors. peter required , men of him, and he furnished . it was about this period that an embassy, under the special protection of russia, arrived from china, by way of siberia, and waited on aiouki khan, ostensibly for the purpose of treating with him for the restoration of one of his nephews, who was detained at the imperial court for reasons unknown to us. but we believe that the principal object of the embassy was to keep up political relations with the kalmucks, whom the chinese government wished to bring back under its own sway. aiouki, following the example of his predecessors, had not broken off all communication with the celestial empire, and had even sent rich presents to the emperor in . it was, therefore, important to cherish this favourable disposition, of which the chinese hoped to avail themselves sooner or later. of course it is not to be supposed that these views were avowed officially; and we cannot but wonder at the indifference of the russian government, or the adroitness with which the chinese availed themselves of the aid of russia herself to compass their ends. but in the various interviews between aiouki and toulichen, the head of the embassy, the question of keeping up an intimacy between the two nations was largely discussed, and all necessary measures were arranged to avoid awakening the suspicions of russia, and thus closing the only means of communication that lay open to them.[ ] aiouki reigned about fifty years. after his death, in , the old dissensions broke out again among the kalmucks; russia made good use of the opportunity to break down the independence of the hordes by directly interfering in their domestic affairs, and their princes soon became subject to the imperial sceptre. thenceforth the dignity of khan was conferred only by the muscovite tzars, and the tribes were put under the special control of a russian commander called a _pristof_. after a long series of contests and intrigues, dondouk ombo, the son-in-law of aiouki, was named khan, to the prejudice of aiouki's grandson. under this prince internal peace was restored among the hordes, and the kalmucks did good service to russia in the campaigns against the nogaïs, and other inhabitants of the kouban. but quarrels broke out again on the death of dondouk ombo in . his children, who were minors, were set aside, and his ambitious and intriguing widow contrived to have dondouk dachi, her youngest brother, and grandson of the celebrated aiouki, declared vice-khan. the new chief was entirely devoted to russia, and his submissiveness was rewarded after the lapse of fifteen years by promotion to the rank of khan; but he enjoyed that dignity only four years. his son oubacha succeeded him as vice-khan in january, . in oubacha's reign new hordes arrived in europe, and the kalmucks were reinforced by , tents, commanded by chereng taidchi. the various tribes, which consisted of more than , families, and possessed innumerable herds of cattle, extended at that time from the shores of the jaïk to the don, and from zaritzin, on the volga, to the foot of the northern slopes of the caucasus. oubacha paid no tribute to russia; he was regarded rather as an ally than a vassal, and was only required to supply cavalry to the imperial armies in time of war. oubacha vigorously seconded the russians in their expedition against the turks and nogaïs. his army amounted to , horse, and one of its detachments figured even in the celebrated siege of otchakof. it was on the return of the kalmucks from these campaigns that their celebrated emigration took place, when nearly half a million of men, women, and children, headed by their prince, quitted the banks of the volga with their cattle, and set out across the most arid regions in quest of their old country. the flight of the kalmucks has been variously explained. b. bergmann attributes it solely to the vindictiveness of zebeck dorchi, a relation of oubacha's, who had been frustrated in his attempt to raise himself to sovereign power. after fruitless attempts at the court of the empress elizabeth, he had nevertheless been named first _sargatchi_, or councillor at the court of his rival. the imperial government hoped by this means to curb the ambition of oubacha, whose power it had abridged in , by deciding that the sargatchis, or members of the khan's council, should be attached to the ministry of foreign affairs, with an annual salary of rubles. according to bergmann, zebeck dorchi made no account of his new dignity, and unable to forgive russia for not having favoured his pretensions, he joined the hordes with a full determination to take signal vengeance. he would induce the kalmucks to go over to china, and thus deprive the empire of more than , subjects, and the army of the greater part of its best cavalry, and make all the neighbouring towns feel severely the loss of their cattle. such, according to bergmann, was zebeck dorchi's project, to realise which he counted solely on the natural fickleness of the kalmucks, and his own active intrigues. this was certainly a very extraordinary scheme of vengeance, and one we can hardly credit, notwithstanding bergmann's assertions. zebeck dorchi's aim being to secure the supreme power, it would have been folly for him to choose such means. it would have been much more to the purpose to have informed against oubacha at the moment when the latter was making his arrangements for quitting russia. such a service would have had its reward, and the informer would undoubtedly have supplanted his rival. this whole explanation of the affair given by bergmann, rests on no one positive fact, and can only have been devised by a man writing under russian influence, and consequently forced to disguise the truth. at the period of the kalmuck emigration catherine ii. filled the throne, and the russian government was beginning to adopt those principles of uniformity which so highly characterise its present policy. moreover, it was really impossible to allow that the whole southern portion of the empire should be given up to turbulent hordes, which, though nominally subjected to the crown, still indulged their propensity to pillage without scruple. placed as they were between the central and the southern provinces, and occupying almost all the approaches to the caucasus, the kalmucks were destined, of necessity, to lose their independence, and fall beneath the immediate yoke of russia. catherine's intentions were soon no secret, and oubacha saw that he must escape by flight from the encroachments of his powerful neighbours, if he would save what remained to him of the primitive authority of the khans. if we reflect, moreover, that the power of the kalmuck princes had been considerably abridged by the new organisation of their administrative council; that colonel kitchinskoi, then grand pristof, had excited the general indignation of the tribes by his harsh conduct; that the political and military exigencies of russia were continually on the increase; we shall have no difficulty in comprehending the real causes of the emigration of these mongol tribes. certainly it required all these combined motives to induce the kalmucks to undertake such a journey through desert regions, the inhabitants of which were their natural enemies. nevertheless, we believe the chinese government was not altogether unconcerned in bringing about oubacha's determination; for, as we shall see by and by, the emperor had already, in aiouki's time, sent the mandarin toulischin to the kalmucks, to assure them of his protection, in case they would return to their native country.[ ] it was on the th of january, , the day appointed by the high priests, that oubacha began his march, with , families. most of the hordes were then assembled in the steppes on the left bank of the volga, and the whole multitude followed him. only , families remained in russia, because the volga remained unfrozen to an unusual late period, and prevented them from crossing over to the rendezvous. oubacha arrived, without impediment, beyond the jaïk, but was afterwards vigorously assailed by the cossacks of the ural and the khirghis, and lost many men. after two months' marching, the exhausted hordes encamped on the irguitch, which falls into lake aksakal, to the north of the sea of aral. next they had to cross the frightful desert of chareh ousoun, where they were exposed to all the torments of thirst, and suffered indescribable disasters; after which they arrived at lake palkache nor, where many of them fell in a last encounter with the khirghis. oubacha then forced a passage through the country of the burats, and at last reached china, after a march of eight months. strange to say, the muscovite government took no energetic means to arrest the fugitives, and detain them in russia. general traubenberg, indeed, who was in command at orenberg, was sent in pursuit of them, but failed totally, whether from incapacity or otherwise. thus was accomplished the most extraordinary emigration of modern times; the empire was suddenly deprived of a pastoral and warlike people, whose habits accorded so well with the caspian steppes, and the regions in which many thousand families had fed their innumerable flocks and herds for a long series of years, were left desolate and unpeopled. we will now extract that portion of the memoirs of the jesuits, vol. i., in which father amiot recounts the arrival of the kalmucks in china, dated pekin, november th, . i copy this curious document from father amiot's original manuscript.[ ] "in the thirty-sixth year of kien long, that is to say, in the year of jesus christ, , all the tatars[ ] composing the nation of the torgouths[ ] arrived, after encountering a thousand perils, in the plains watered by the ily, entreating the favour to be admitted among the vassals of the great chinese empire. by their own account, they have abandoned for ever, and without regret, the sterile banks of the volga and the jaïk, along which the russians had formerly allowed them to settle, near where the two rivers empty themselves into the caspian. they have abandoned them, they say, _to come and admire more closely the brilliant lustre of the heavens, and at last to enjoy, like so many others, the happiness of having henceforth for master the greatest prince in the world_. notwithstanding the many battles in which they have been obliged to engage, defensively or offensively, with those through whose country they had to pass, and at whose expense they were necessarily compelled to live; notwithstanding the depredations committed on them by the vagrant tatars, who repeatedly attacked and plundered them on their march; notwithstanding the enormous fatigues endured by them in traversing more than , leagues, through one of the most difficult countries; notwithstanding hunger, thirst, misery, and an almost general scarcity of common necessaries, to which they were exposed during their eight months' journey, their numbers still amounted to , families when they arrived, and these , families, to use the language of the country, counted , mouths, without sensible error. among the russians carried off by them at their departure, were soldiers, at the head of whom was a monsieur dudin, doudin, or toutim,[ ] as the name is pronounced here. this name is probably not unknown in our part of the world. it is not at all like the common russian names. is it not that of some expatriated frenchman, who had found employment among the russians? be this as it may, had this officer been still alive in last august, when the emperor gave evidence to the torgouth princes whom he had summoned to gé ho, where he was enjoying the pleasures of the chase, he would certainly have been sent back with honour to muscovy. his majesty did not disdain to inquire personally as to this fact. 'is it true,' said he to one of the chiefs of the nation, 'that before your departure you plundered the possessions of the russians, and carried off one of their officers and of their soldiers?' 'we did so,' replied the torgouth prince, 'and could not help doing so, under the circumstances in which we were placed. as for the russian officer and his and odd soldiers, there is every reason to think that they all perished by the way. i remember that when the division was made, eight of them fell to me. i will inquire of my people whether any of these russians are still alive, and if so, i will send them to your majesty immediately on my return to ily.' "this year, , the thirty-seventh of the reign of kien long, those of the eleuths who were formerly dispersed over the vast regions known by the general name of tartary, some hordes of pourouths, and the rest of the nation of the torgouths, came like the others, and voluntarily submitted to a yoke which no one sought to impose on them. they were in number , families, which, added to the , of the preceding year, make a total of , mouths, who will unite their voices with those of the other subjects of the empire in proclaiming the marvels of one of the most glorious reigns that has been since the foundation of the monarchy. "so extraordinary and unexpected an event, happening when the empress mother's eighty-sixth year was celebrated here with a pomp becoming all the majesty of him who gives law to this empire, has been regarded by the emperor as an infallible mark of the goodness of that supreme heaven, of which he calls himself the son, and from which he glories in having unceasingly received the most signal favours since his accession to the throne: it is in this spirit he has caused the fact to be enrolled in the private archives of his nation, archives which, in the course of ages, will, perhaps, contrast in many points with those which will be published by the chinese historians, and with those, too, which some neighbouring nations may publish with reference to the same facts. the latter will, perhaps, impute political views and manoeuvres which have had no existence, whilst the former, in spite of certain appearances which may suggest the probability of intrigues and negotiations practised for the accomplishment of a preconcerted design, nevertheless state nothing but the truth, which will be somewhat hard to believe. if the testimony of a contemporary, and, as it were, ocular witness, who has no prejudice or interest in the matter, were necessary to establish that the fact i am about to speak of is among the number of those which are true in all circumstances, i would freely give it without fearing that any man, of the least information, could ever accuse me of error or partiality. be this as it may, until such time as history shall acquaint posterity with an event which he regards as one of the most glorious of his reign, the emperor has caused the statement and the date to be inscribed on stone in four languages spoken by the various nations subject to him, viz., the mantchous, mongols, torgouths, and chinese. this lapidary monument is to be erected at ily before the eyes of the torgouths, that it may be seen by all those nations i have named. having had an opportunity of procuring a copy from the original, taken by one of those who were employed in making the mantchou inscription, i have ventured to translate it. it would doubtless be very acceptable even as a literary specimen, had i been able to preserve in our language that noble simplicity, that energy and precision, which the emperor has given it in his own tongue. its contents are nearly as follows: "'_records of the transmigration of the torgouths, who voluntarily, and of their own full accord, came bodily as a nation, and submitted themselves to the empire of china._ "'those who, after having revolted, reflecting uneasily on a crime which they cannot yet be made to expiate, but for which they see full well that they will be punished sooner or later, beg permission to return beneath the yoke of obedience, are men who submit through fear; they are constrained subjects; those who having the option to undergo the yoke or not, yet come and submit themselves to it voluntarily, and of their own full accord, even when there is no thought of imposing it upon them, are men who have submitted only because such is their pleasure; they are subjects who have freely given themselves to him whom they have chosen to govern them. "'all those who now compose the nation of the torgouths, undismayed by the dangers of a long and toilsome journey, filled with the sole desire of procuring for the future a better manner of life and a happier lot, have abandoned the places where they dwelt far beyond our frontier, have traversed with unshakable courage a space of more than ten thousand leagues, and have ranged themselves, of their own accord, among the number of my subjects. their submission to me is not a submission inspired by fear, but a voluntary and free submission, if ever such there was. "'after having pacified the western frontiers of my dominions, i caused the lands of my domain which are on the ily to be put under tillage, and i diminished the tribute heretofore imposed on the neighbouring mahometans. i enacted that the hasacks and the pourouths should together form the external limits of the empire on that side, and should be governed on the footing of the foreign hordes. as regards the nations of the antchiyen and the badakchan, as they are still more remote, i determined to leave them free to pay or not to pay tribute. "'no one needs blush when he can limit his desires; no one has occasion to fear when he knows how to desist in due time. such are the sentiments that actuate me. in all places under heaven, to the remotest corners beyond the sea, there are men who obey under the names of slaves or subjects. shall i persuade myself that they are all submitted to me, and that they own themselves my vassals? far from me be so chimerical a pretension. what i persuade myself, and what is strictly true, is that the torgouths, without any interference on my part, have come of their own full accord to live henceforth under my laws. heaven has, no doubt, inspired them with this design; they have only obeyed heaven in putting it in force. i should do wrong not to commemorate this event in an authentic monument. "'the torgouths are a branch of the eleuths. four branches formerly constituted the entire nation of the tchong kars.[ ] it would be difficult to explain their common origin, respecting which moreover nothing very certain is known. these four branches separated, and each formed a distinct nation. that of the eleuths, the chief of them all, gradually subdued the others, and continued until the time of kang hi, to exercise over them the pre-eminence it had usurped. tsé ouang raptan then reigned over the eleuths, and aiouki over the torgouths. these two leaders, at variance with each other, had disputes, to which aiouki, the weaker of the two, feared he should be the unhappy victim. he conceived the design of withdrawing for ever from beneath the sway of the eleuths.[ ] he took secret measures to secure the flight he meditated, and escaped with all his followers to the lands under the sway of the russians, who permitted him to settle in the country of etchil.[ ] "'cheng tsou jin hoang ty, my grandfather, wishing to be informed of the true reasons that had induced aiouki thus to expatriate himself, sent him the mandarin toulichen[ ] and some others to assure him of his protection in case he desired to return to the country where he had formerly dwelt. the russians, to whom toulichen was ordered to apply for permission to pass through their country, granted it without difficulty; but as they gave him no information as to what he was in quest of, it took him three years and some months to fulfil his commission. it was not until after his return that the desired information respecting aiouki and his people was at last possessed. "'oubacha, who is now khan of the torgouths, is great grandson of aiouki. the russians, never ceasing to require soldiers of him to be incorporated in their troops, having at last taken his own son from him as a hostage, and being besides of a different religion from himself, and making no account of that of the lamas which the torgouths profess, oubacha and his people finally determined to shake off a yoke which was daily becoming more and more insupportable. "'after having secretly deliberated among themselves, they resolved to quit an abode where they had to suffer so much, and come and dwell in the countries subject to china, where the religion of fo is professed. "'in the beginning of the eleventh moon of last year, they began their march with their women and children and all their baggage, traversed the country of the hasacks, passed along the shores of lake palkache nor and through the adjoining deserts; and towards the close of the sixth moon of this year, after having completed more than , leagues in the eight months of their wayfaring, they at last arrived on the frontiers of chara pen, not far from the banks of the ily. i was already aware that the torgouths were on their march to submit themselves to me, the news having been brought me shortly after their departure from etchil. i then reflected that iletou, general of the troops at ily, having already been charged with other very important affairs, it was to be feared that he could not regulate those of the new comers with all the requisite attention. "'chouhédé, one of the general's councillors, was at ouché, employed in maintaining order among the mahometans. as he was at hand to attend to the torgouths, i ordered him to repair to ily, that he might use his best efforts to establish them solidly. "'those who fancy they see danger everywhere, failed not to make their representations to me on this matter. 'among those who are come to make their submission,' said they, with one voice, 'is the perfidious chereng. that traitor, after having deceived tangalou, put him to death miserably, and took refuge among the russians. he who has once deceived may do so again. let us beware; we cannot be too much on our guard. to give welcome to one who comes of his own accord to make submission, is to give reception to an enemy.' upon these representations i conceived some distrust, and gave orders that some preparations should be made to meet every contingency. i reflected, however, with all the maturity required by an affair of such importance, and my reiterated reflections at last convinced me that what i was told to fear could not possibly come to pass. could chereng alone have been able to persuade a whole nation? could he have put oubacha and all the torgouths, his subjects, in motion? what likelihood is there that so many men would willingly have inconvenienced themselves to follow a private individual--would have entered into his views--and run the risk of perishing of hunger and wretchedness with him? besides this, the russians, from whose sway they have ventured to withdraw themselves, are like myself, masters of a great realm. if the torgouths were come with the intention of insulting my frontiers, and settling there by force, could they hope that i would leave them undisturbed there? can they have persuaded themselves that i would not stir to expel them? and if they are expelled, whither can they retire? can they dare to hope that the russians, whom they have treated with ingratitude in abandoning them as they have done, will condescend to receive them back with impunity, and allow them to resume possession of the ground they accorded to them formerly? had the torgouths been actuated by any other motive than that of wishing to submit sincerely to me, they would be without support on either side; they would be between two fires. of ten arguments for and against, there are nine to show that there is nothing in their proceeding to excite suspicion. among these ten arguments is there one tending to prove that they entertain any secret views? if so, the future will unmask them, and then i will act as circumstances shall require. what was to happen at the time i made these reflections, has happened at last. it has proved the accuracy of my reasoning, and exactly verified what i had predicted. "'nevertheless i neglected none of the precautions that seemed to me necessary. i ordered chouhédé to erect forts and redoubts in the most important places, and have all the passes strictly guarded. i enjoined him to exert himself personally in procuring necessary provisions of all kinds in the interior, whilst fit persons, carefully chosen by him, should make every arrangement for securing quiet without. "'the torgouths arrived; and at once found lodging, food, and all the conveniences they could have enjoyed each in his own dwelling. nor was this all; the principal men among them, who were to come in person and pay homage to me, were conducted with honour and free of expense by the imperial post-roads to the place where i then was. i saw them, spoke to them, and was pleased that they should enjoy the pleasures of the chase with me; and after the days allotted to that recreation were ended, they repaired in my suite to ge ho. there i gave them the banquet of ceremony, and made them the ordinary presents with the same pomp and state as i am accustomed to employ when i give solemn audience to tchering and the chiefs of the tourbeths (_the derbetes of the russians_), of whom he is the leader. "'it was at ge ho, in those charming scenes where kang hi, my grandfather, made himself an abode to which he might retire during the hot season, and at the same time put himself in a position to watch more closely over the welfare of the people beyond the western frontiers of the empire; it was, i say, in that delightful spot, that having conquered the whole of the country of the eleuths, i received the sincere homage of tchering and his tourbeths, who alone among the eleuths, had remained true to me. it is not necessary to go back many years to reach the term of that epoch; the memory of it is still quite recent. "'who would have said it! when i had the least reason to expect it--when i was not even thinking of it--that branch of the eleuths which had been the first to separate from the trunk, the torgouths who had voluntarily expatriated themselves to live under an alien and remote dominion, those very torgouths came of themselves and submitted to me of their own free will; and it was at ge ho, near the venerable spot where rest the ashes of my grandfather, that i had the unsought opportunity of solemnly admitting them among the number of my subjects. "'now, indeed, it may be said, without fear of overstepping the truth, that the whole nation of the mongols is subject to our dynasty of tay tsing, since it is from it in fact that all the hordes composing it now receive laws. my august grandfather conjectured this result; he foresaw that it would happen one day; what would have been his delight to know that that day was actually come! "'it is under the reign of my humble person that the conjectures of that great prince are realised, and what he had foreseen is fully accomplished. what token can i give him of gratitude proportioned to what i owe him! what profound homage, what respectful sentiments can clear my account with heaven for the constant protection with which it deigns to honour me! i tremble under the apprehension of not bearing sufficiently at heart those obligations with which i ought to be wholly filled, or of not being sufficiently attentive to fulfil them entirely. after all i have no thought of imputing to my own virtue and merits the voluntary submission, or the arrival of the torgouths in my dominions. i will strive to behave, in this respect, as well as i possibly can. no sooner were the torgouths arrived than the representations began anew. 'these people,' i was told 'are rebels who have withdrawn from the sway of the russians; we are not free to receive them. it is to be feared that if we gave them a favourable reception it would occasion animosities and some troubles on our frontiers.' 'let not that alarm you,' i replied. 'chereng was formerly my subject; he revolted and took refuge among the russians, and they received him. repeatedly did i request them to give him up to me, but they would not. and now chereng, acknowledging his fault, comes and surrenders voluntarily. what i here say, i have already said to the russians in the fullest detail, and i have completely reduced them to silence.' "'what! was it to be supposed that for considerations no way binding upon me, i should have suffered so many thousand human beings to perish, after they had arrived on the verge of our frontiers almost half dead with wretchedness and famine! 'but,' it was objected, 'they have plundered by the way; they have carried off provisions and cattle.' and suppose they have, how could they have preserved their lives without doing so? who would have supplied them with the means of existence? 'watch so well,' says an old chinese proverb, 'that you may never be surprised; keep such careful guard that perfect security may reign even in your deserts.' "'with regard to the ily country where i have allowed them to take up their abode, though i have very recently caused a town to be built there, that place is not yet strong enough to protect the frontiers in that direction, and hinder the brigands from continuing to insult them. those who inhabit the country are employed only in tilling the ground and feeding cattle. how could they protect themselves? how could they secure the peace of those deserts? general iletou being informed of the approach of the torgouths, failed not to acquaint me with the fact. if through fear of the uncertain future, or considerations unsuited to the circumstances of the case, i had determined to have the border strictly guarded, and to have a stop put to the march of the torgouths, what should i have gained thereby? driven to despair, would they not have rushed into the most violent excesses? an ordinary private individual would be justly stigmatised as inhuman, were he to behold strangers from a far country exhausted with fatigue, bowed down by wretchedness, and ready to breathe out their last gasp, and not take the trouble to succour them; and shall a great prince, whose first duty it is to try to imitate heaven in his manner of governing men, shall he leave a whole nation that implores his clemency to perish for want of aid? far from us be such vile thoughts! farther still be conduct conformable to them! no, we will never adopt such cruel sentiments. the torgouths came, i received them; they wanted even the commonest necessaries of life; i provided them with every thing abundantly; i opened for them my granaries and my coffers, my stalls and my studs. out of the former i bestowed on them what was requisite for their present wants; from the latter i desired that they should be supplied with the means of providing for themselves in time to come. i intrusted the management of this important affair to those of my grandees whose disinterestedness and enlightenment were already known to me. i hope and trust that every thing will be done to the entire satisfaction of the torgouths. it is needless to say more in this place. my intention has only been to give a summary of what has come to pass."[ ] footnotes: [ ] "narrative of the chinese embassy to the khan of torgouth tartars, in the years , ' , ' and ' , by the chinese ambassador, and published by the emperor's authority at pekin." london. i am indebted to the kindness of baron walckenaer for an acquaintance with this work. [ ] the flight of the kalmucks has also been attributed to prince chereng taidchi, of whom mention has been made above. this version of the matter seems to us improbable. chereng had left china as an outlaw, and it is not to be supposed that he was favourable to the emigration, notwithstanding the impatience with which he endured the yoke of russia. it appears, on the contrary, that he never ceased to protest against the resolution adopted by oubacha. [ ] the ms. belongs to m. ternaux compans, who has obligingly placed at my disposal all the rich stores of his valuable library. [ ] here again we see that the chinese give the name of tatars to the mongols, which confirms our opinion, that the denomination we give to the mussulman subjects of southern russia is incorrect. we have substituted tatar for the word tartar in the ms. [ ] the chinese doubtless adopted the name torgouth, because the fugitive kalmucks consisted, in a great measure, of that tribe. the kalmucks that remained in russia are almost all derbetes and koschoots. [ ] russian documents confirm the fact, that a captain of this name commanding a russian detachment was carried off by the fugitive kalmucks. [ ] there is here, evidently, a confusion of names. the soongars, or tchong-kars, as the chinese call them, are a branch of the eleuths, and are the very nation who played the important part here attributed to the eleuths in general. [ ] this assertion seems totally erroneous. the torgouths arrived in russia in , and aiouki was not raised to the dignity of khan until ; he could not, therefore, have acted the part here ascribed to him. the relation of the chinese embassy to aiouki ( - ) likewise confirms in all points the inaccuracy of the emperor kien long's historical version. at that period china was a country almost unknown to the kalmucks, and aiouki, in all his conferences with the ambassadors, was continually asking for information of all kinds respecting the celestial empire. [ ] the part of southern russia comprised between the volga and the jaïk. the tatars also gave the name of etchil to the volga. [ ] here the emperor's words are altogether at variance with the report of the chinese embassy, of which toulischin was the leader. chapter xxv. the kalmucks after the departure of oubacha--division of the hordes, limits of their territory--the turkoman and tatar tribes in the governments of astrakhan and the caucasus-- christian kalmucks--agricultural attempts--physical, social, and moral, characteristics of the kalmucks. after the departure of oubacha, the kalmucks that remained in russia were deprived of their special jurisdiction, and for more than thirty years had neither khan nor vice-khan. it was not until , that the emperor paul, in one of his inexplicable caprices, thought fit to re-establish the office of vice-khan, and bestowed it on prince tchoutchei, an influential kalmuck of the race of the derbetes. the administration of the hordes, which had been under the control of the governor of astrakhan since , was again made independent, the functions of the russian pristofs were limited, and they could no longer abuse their power so much as they had done. but upon the death of tchoutchei, the kalmucks again came under the russian laws and tribunals; they lost all their privileges irrevocably, and the sovereignty of the khans and of the vice-khans disappeared for ever. the complete subjection of the kalmucks was not, however, effected without some difficulty. discontent prevailed among them in the highest degree, but their attempts at revolt were all fruitless. hemmed in on all sides by lines of cossacks, the tribes were constrained to accept the russian sway in all its extent. the only remarkable incident of their last struggles was a partial emigration into the cossack country. this insubordination excited the tzar's utmost wrath, and he despatched an extraordinary courier to astrakhan, with orders to arrest the high priest and the principal chiefs of the hordes, and send them to st. petersburg. before leaving astrakhan, these two kalmucks engaged a certain maximof to act as their interpreter, and plead their cause before the emperor. but when the two captives arrived in st. petersburg, the emperor's fit of anger was quite over; they were received extremely well, and instead of being chastised, they returned to the steppes invested with a new russian dignity. they took leave publicly of the tzar, and this audience was turned to good account by their interpreter. in presenting their thanks to his majesty, that very clever person, knowing he ran no risk of being contradicted, made paul believe that the kalmucks earnestly entreated that his imperial majesty would grant him, also, an honorary grade in recompense for his good services. the tzar was taken in by the trick, and maximof quitted the court with the title of major. the man still lived in astrakhan when we visited the town, and did not hesitate to tell us the story with his own lips. though entirely subjected to the russian laws, the kalmucks have an administrative committee, which is occupied exclusively with their affairs. it resides in astrakhan, and consists of a president, two russian judges, and two kalmuck deputies. the latter, of course, are appointed only for form sake, and have no influence over the decisions of the council. the president of the committee is what the russians call the curator-general of the kalmucks. in , this post had been filled for many years by m. fadiew, a man of integrity and capacity, and the tribes owed to his wise administration a state of tranquillity they had not enjoyed for a long while. to each camp there is also attached a superintendent, called a pristof, with some cossacks under his orders. all matters of litigation are decided in accordance with the russian code, but criminal cases are extremely rare, owing to the pacific character of the kalmucks, and the interposition of their chiefs. the kalmuck hordes are divided into two great classes, those belonging respectively to princes and to the crown; but all are amenable to the same laws and the same tribunals. the former pay a tax of twenty-five rubles to their princes, who have the right of taking from among them all the persons they require for their domestic service, and they are bound to maintain a police and good order within their camp. every chief, has, at his command, several subaltern chiefs called _zaizans_, who have the immediate superintendence of or tents. their office is nearly hereditary. he who fills it enjoys the title of prince, but this is not shared by the other members of his family. the zaizans are entitled to a contribution of two rubles from every kibitka under their command. the hordes of the crown come under more direct russian surveillance. they paid no tax at first, and were bound to military service in the same way as the cossacks; but they have been exempted from it since , and now pay merely a tax of twenty-five rubles for each family. the princely hordes, likewise, used to supply troops for the frontier service; but this was changed in , and since then the kalmucks have been free from all military service, and pay only twenty-five rubles per tent to their princes, and . to the crown. besides the two great divisions we have just mentioned, the kalmucks are also distinguished into various _oulousses_, or hordes, belonging to sundry princes. each _oulousse_ has its own camping-ground for summer and winter. the kalmuck territory has been considerably reduced since the departure of oubacha; it now comprises but a small extent of country on the left bank of the volga, and the khirghis of the inner horde now occupy the steppes between the ural and the volga. the present limits of european kalmuckia are to the north and east, the volga as far as latitude deg.; a line drawn from that point to the mouths of the volga, parallel with the course of the river, and at a distance from it of about forty miles; and, lastly, the caspian sea as far as the kouma. on the south, the boundary is the kouma and a line drawn from that river, below vladimirofka, to the upper part of the course of the kougoultcha. the egorlik, and a line passing through the sources of the different rivers that fall into the don, form the frontiers on the west. the whole portion of the steppes included between the volga, the frontiers of the government of saratof and the country of the don cossacks, and the th degree of north latitude, forms the summer camping-ground of the following oulousses: karakousofsky, iandikofsky, great derbet, belonging to prince otshir kapshukof; little derbet, belonging to prince tondoudof, and ikytsokourofsky, which is now without a proprietor; its prince having died childless, it is not known who is to have his inheritance. the whole territory comprises about , , hectares of land; , were detached from it in by prince tondoudof, and presented to the cossacks, in return for which act of generosity the crown conferred on him the rank of captain. he gave a splendid ball on the occasion at astrakhan, which cost upwards of , rubles. we saw him in that town at the governor's soirées, where he made a very poor figure; yet he is the richest of all the kalmuck princes, for he possesses tents, and his income amounts, it is said, to more than , rubles. the kalmucks occupy in all , , hectares of land, of which , , are in the government of astrakhan, and , , in that of the caucasus. these figures which cannot be expected to be mathematically exact, are the result of my own observations, and of the assertions of the kalmucks, compared with some surveys made by order of the administrative committee. besides the kalmucks, the only legitimate proprietors of the soil, other nomades also intrude upon these steppes. such are the turcomans, called troushmens by the russians. they have their own lands in the government of the caucasus, between the kouma and the terek; but as the countless swarms of gnats infesting those regions in summer render them almost uninhabitable for camels and other cattle, the turcomans pass the kouma of their own authority, with some nogaï hordes, who are in the same predicament, encamp amidst the kalmucks, and occupy during all the fine weather a great part of the steppes between the kouma and the manitch. this intrusion has often been strongly resented by the kalmucks, and the authorities have been obliged to interfere to appease the strife. but as it is absolutely requisite to allot a summer camping-ground to the turcomans, the government is not a little perplexed how to cut the gordian knot. an expedient, however, was adopted during our stay in astrakhan. it was determined to take from the kalmucks a portion of the territory they possess along the kalaous, and of which they make no use, and bestow it upon the turcomans. this ground being completely isolated, it was furthermore decided that there should be allowed a road six kilometres wide (three miles six furlongs) for the passage of their flocks. nothing can convey a more striking picture of these arid regions than this scheme of a road nearly four miles wide, extending for more than sixty leagues. the turcomans entered russia in the train of the kalmucks, whose slaves they appear to have been. they are now much mixed up with the nogaïs, like whom they profess mohammedanism. they reckon tents. the only obligation imposed on them is to convey the corn destined for the army of the caucasus. they receive their loads at koumskaia, where the vessels from astrakhan discharge their cargoes, and thence they repair to the terek and often to tiflis in georgia. this service is regarded by them as very onerous, and they have long requested permission to pay their taxes in money. they use in this business carts with two wheels of large diameter, drawn by oxen, for camels and horses are scarcely ever employed. the turcomans have preserved the good old customs of their native country; they are the greatest plunderers in the steppes, and the only people whom there is any real cause to regard with distrust. before the end of summer, in the latter part of august, the turcomans begin to retire behind the kouma, into the government of the caucasus. a tatar horde called sirtof likewise encamps on the lands of the kalmucks, within sixty miles of astrakhan, on the road to kisliar. it reckons but tents, and as the lands it occupies are of little importance, no one thinks of troubling it. lastly are to be enumerated families of kalmucks, improperly called christians, who occupy the two banks of the kouma, between vladimirofka and the caspian. some russian missionaries attempted their conversion towards the close of the last century, but their proselytising efforts, based on force, were fruitless, and produced nothing but revolts. since then these kalmucks, some of whom had suffered themselves to be baptised, were called christians, chiefly for the purpose of distinguishing them from those who are not bound like themselves to military service. they are chiefly employed in guarding the salt pools, and belong, under the denomination of cossacks, to the regiment of mosdok. the government feeds them and their horses when they are on actual service, but they still pay a tax for every head of cattle, the amount of which goes into the regimental chest. these kalmucks having no camping-ground of their own, have long been soliciting to have one assigned them. the government offered them ground in the environs of stavropol, the capital of the caucasian government, but they refused it for fear of the incursions of the circassians. these nominal christians are with the turcomans the most dangerous people in the steppes. their attacks are not at all to be feared by day; but at night it is necessary to keep a sharp look out after one's camels and horses; for in these deserts to rob a traveller of his means of transport is almost to take his life. as will be seen from what we have stated above, the summer encampments of the kalmuck hordes are situated in the most northern parts of the country, where there is the richest pasture, and where the cattle suffer least from flies in the hot weather. the emigration to the north is almost general; only a few very needy families, who have no cattle, remain in the winter camp, keeping as near as possible to the post stations and inhabited places, in hopes of procuring employment. in the beginning of the cold season the hordes return to the south, along the banks of the caspian and the kouma, where they fix themselves among the forests of rushes that supply them with firing and fodder for their cattle. in all these regions destitute of forests, reeds are of immense importance, and nature has liberally distributed them along all the rivers of the steppes, and in all the numerous bottom lands that flank the caspian. the inhabitants of astrakhan make a regular and systematic use of them, employing them not only for fuel, but also for roofing their houses, and for thatching their waggons laden with salt or fish, which they send into the interior of the country. it is in spring, before the floods caused by the melting of the snow, that the reeds begin to sprout. their stalks, which are as thick as a finger, soon shoot up to the height of twelve or thirteen feet. those that grow on the banks of the volga are never quite covered in the highest floods. the beginning of winter is the season for laying in a stock of reeds, and it is customary to burn all those that are not cut and carried off, in order that the dead stalks may not hinder the growth of the young shoots. the ceremony attending the departure of the hordes in spring is not without interest. the kalmuck chiefs never begin a march without making an offering to the bourkhan, or god of the river, as an acknowledgment of the protection vouchsafed to their camp during the winter. to this end they repair in great pomp to the banks of the kouma, accompanied by their families and a large body of priests, and throw several pieces of silver money into the river, at the same time invoking its future favours. according to the official documents communicated to me, the kalmuck population does not appear to exceed , families. on this head, however, it is impossible to arrive at very exact statistics, for the princes having themselves to pay the crown dues, have of course an interest in making the population seem as small as possible. i am inclined to believe, from sundry facts, that the number of the tents is scarcely under , . at all events, it seems ascertained that the kalmuck population has remained stationary for the last sixty years, a fact which is owing to the ravages of disease, such as small-pox, and others of the cutaneous kind. the kalmucks, all of them nomades, are exclusively engaged in rearing cattle, and know nothing whatever of agriculture. they breed camels, oxen, sheep, and above all, horses, of which they have an excellent description, small, but strong, agile, and of great endurance. i have ridden a kalmuck horse often eighteen and even twenty-five leagues without once dismounting. the russian cavalry is mounted chiefly on horses from the caspian steppes: the average price of a good horse is from to rubles. formerly the kalmucks used to send their horses to the great fairs of poland, paying a duty of . rubles on every horse sold; but the duty was raised to . rubles in , for every horse arriving in the fair, and this unlucky measure immediately destroyed all trade with poland. the business of horse-breeding has diminished immensely ever since in the caspian steppes. the government afterwards returned to the old rate of duty; but the mischief was done, and the kalmucks did not again appear in their old markets. it is impossible to know, even approximately, the amount of cattle belonging to the tribes, for the kalmucks are too superstitious ever to acknowledge the number of their stock. from various data i collected at astrakhan, and from the superintendents of the hordes, we may estimate that the kalmucks possess on the whole from , to , horses, about , camels, , kine, and nearly a million sheep. prince tumene is the only one of the kalmucks who has engaged in agriculture, and his attempts have been exceedingly favoured by the character of the soil in his domains on the left bank of the volga. his produce consists of grain, grapes, and all kinds of fruit. he has even tried to manufacture champagne wine, but with little success; and when we visited him, he entreated me to send him a good work on the subject, that he might begin his operations again on an improved plan. prince tondoudof is also striving to follow in prince tumene's footsteps. he has lately marked out a large space in the steppes for the fixed residence of a part of his kalmucks, but i greatly doubt that his wishes can ever be realised. he has for many years possessed a very handsome dwelling, but he has not yet been able to give up his tent, so strong is the attachment of all this race to a nomade life. but the most potent obstacle to the establishment of a permanent colony consists in the nature of the soil itself. we have traversed the kalmuck steppes in almost all directions, and found everywhere only an argillaceous, sandy, or salt soil, generally unsuited to agriculture. where there is pasture, the grass is so short and thin, that the ground exactly resembles the appearance of the steppes of the black sea, when the grass begins to grow again after the conflagrations of winter. hence the kalmucks are continually on the move to find fresh pasture for their cattle, and seldom remain in one spot for more than a month or six weeks. but the most serious obstacle to agriculture is the want of fresh water. the few brooks that run through the steppes are dry during the greater part of the year, and the summers are generally without rain. the cold, too, is as intolerable as the heat: for four months the thermometer is almost always steady at twenty-eight degrees of reaumur in the shade, and very often it rises to thirty-two; then when winter sets in it falls to twenty-eight degrees below zero. thus, there is a difference of nearly sixty degrees between the winter and the summer temperature. if in addition to these changes of temperature we consider the total flatness of the country, exposed without any shelter to the violence of the north and east winds, it will easily be conceived how unfavourable it must be to agriculture. a nomade life seems therefore to me a necessity for the kalmucks, and until the development of civilisation among them shall make them feel the need of fixed dwellings, they must be left free to wander over their steppes. moreover, in applying themselves exclusively to pastoral pursuits, they render much greater service to russia than if they employed themselves in cultivating a stubborn and thankless soil. no doubt there are numerous oases scattered over these immense plains, just as in other deserts, and agriculture might have some success in the northern parts; but these favourable spots are all situated amid wildernesses where the cultivators would find no markets for their produce. in spite of all these drawbacks, the russian government still persists in its endeavours to colonise the kalmucks, and strives with all its might to introduce among them its system of uniformity. but its efforts have hitherto been quite fruitless; the hordes are now, perhaps, more than ever attached to their vagrant way of life, in which they find at least a compensation for the privileges and the independence of which they have been deprived. the kalmucks, like most other nations, are divided into three orders, nobles, clergy, and commons; the members of the aristocracy assume the name of _white bones_, whilst the common people are called _black bones_. the priests belong indifferently to either class, but those that issue from the ranks of the people do not easily succeed in effacing the stain of their origin. the prejudices of noble birth are, however, much less deeply rooted at this day than formerly, a natural consequence of the destruction of the power of the khans and the princes, and the complete subjection of the hordes to the laws and customs of the empire. bergmann's account has therefore become quite inapplicable to the present state of things, and can only give false notions of the constitution of the kalmucks. among the asiatic races there is none whose features are so distinctly characterised as those of the mongols. paint one individual and you paint the whole nation. in , the celebrated painter, isabey, after seeing a great number of kalmucks, observed so striking a resemblance between them, that having to take the likeness of prince tumene, and perceiving that the prince was very restless at the last sittings, he begged him to send one of his servants in his stead. in that way the painter finished the portrait, which turned out to be a most striking likeness, as i myself can testify. all the kalmucks have eyes set obliquely, with eyelids little opened, scanty black eyebrows, noses deeply depressed near the forehead, prominent cheek-bones, spare beards, thin moustaches, and a brownish yellow skin. the lips of the men are thick and fleshy, but the women, particularly those of high rank, have heart-shaped mouths of no common beauty. all have enormous ears, projecting strongly from the head, and their hair is invariably black. the kalmucks are generally small, but with figures well rounded, and an easy carriage. very few deformed persons are seen among them, for with more good sense than ourselves, they leave the development of their children's frames entirely to nature, and never put any kind of garment on them until the age of nine or ten. no sooner are they able to walk, than they mount on horseback, and apply themselves with all their hearts to wrestling and riding, the chief amusements of the tribes. the portrait we have drawn of the kalmucks is certainly not very engaging; but their own notions of beauty are very different from ours. a kalmuck princess has been named to us, who, though frightfully ugly in european eyes, nevertheless, passed for such a marvel of loveliness among her own people, that after having had a host of suitors, she was at last carried off by force by one of her admirers. like all inhabitants of vast plains, the kalmucks have exceedingly keen sight. an hour after sunset they can still distinguish a camel at a distance of three miles or more. very often when i perceived nothing but a point barely visible on the horizon, they clearly made out a horseman armed with his lance and gun. they have also an extraordinary faculty for wending their way through their pathless wildernesses. without the least apparent mark to guide them, they traverse hundreds of miles with their flocks, without ever wandering from the right course. the costume of the common kalmucks is not marked by any very decided peculiarity, the cap alone excepted. it is invariably of yellow cloth trimmed with black lambskin, and is worn by both sexes. i am even tempted to think that there are some superstitious notions connected with it, seeing the difficulty i experienced in procuring one as a specimen. the trousers are wide and open below. persons in good circumstances wear two long tunics, one of which is tied round the waist, but the usual dress consists only of trousers and a jacket of skin with tight sleeves. we have already described the garb of the women. the men shave a part of their heads, and the rest of the hair is gathered into a single mass, which hangs on their shoulders. the women wear two tresses, and this is really the only visible criterion of their sex. the princes have almost all adopted the circassian costume, or the uniform of the cossacks of astrakhan, to which body some of them belong. the ordinary foot gear is red boots with very high heels, and generally much too short. the kalmucks, like the chinese, greatly admire small feet, and as they are constantly on horseback, their short boots, which would be torturing to us, cause them no inconvenience. but they are very bad pedestrians; the form of their boots obliges them to walk on their toes, and they are exceedingly distressed when they have not a horse to mount. they never set out on a journey unarmed. they usually carry a poniard and a long asiatic gun, generally a matchlock. the camel is the beast they commonly ride, guiding it by a string passed through its nostrils, which gives them complete command over the animal. they have long quite abandoned the use of bows and arrows; the gun, the lance, and the dagger being now their only weapons. cuirasses, too, have become useless to them. i saw a few admirable specimens at prince tumene's, which appeared to be of persian manufacture, and were valued at from fifty to a hundred horses. in spite of the precepts of buddhism which forbid them to kill any sort of animal, the kalmucks are skilful sportsmen with hawk and gun. they almost always shoot in the manner of the old arquebusiers, resting the gun on a long fork which plays upon an axis fixed at the extremity of the barrel. the kalmucks, like all pastoral people, live very frugally. dairy produce forms their chief aliment, and their favourite beverage is tea. they eat meat also, particularly horse flesh, which they prefer to any other, but very well done and not raw as some writers have asserted. as for cereal food, which the natives of europe prize so highly, the kalmucks scarcely know its use; it is only at rare intervals that some of them buy bread or oatcake from the neighbouring russians. their tea is prepared in a very peculiar manner. it comes to them from china, in the shape of very hard bricks composed of the leaves and coarsest parts of the plant. after boiling it a considerable time in water, they add milk, butter, and salt. the infusion then acquires consistency, and becomes of a dirty red-yellow colour. we tasted the beverage at prince tumene's, but must confess it was perfectly detestable, and instantly reminded us of madame gibou's incredible preparation. they say, however, that it is easy to accustom oneself to this tea, and that at last it is thought delicious. at all events it has one good quality. by strongly exciting perspiration, it serves as an excellent preservative against the effects of sudden chills. the kalmucks drink their tea out of round shallow little wooden vessels, to which they often attach a very high value. i have seen several which were priced at two or three horses. they are generally made of roots brought from asia. it is superfluous to say that the kalmucks, knowing nothing of the use of teakettles, prepare their infusion in large iron pots. next to tea there is no beverage they are so fond of as spirituous liquors. they manufacture a sort of brandy from mare's or cow's milk; but as it is very weak, and has little action on the brain, they seek after russian liquors with intense eagerness, so that to prevent the pernicious consequences of this passion, the government has been obliged to prohibit the establishment of any dram shops among the hordes. the women are as eager after the fatal liquor as the men, but they have seldom an opportunity to indulge their taste, for their lords and masters watch them narrowly in this respect. the kalmuck kitchen is disgustingly filthy. a housekeeper would think herself disgraced if she washed her utensils with water. when she has to clean a vessel, no matter of what sort, she merely empties out its contents, and polishes the inside with the back of her hand. often have i had pans of milk brought to me that had been cleansed in this ingenious manner. however, as we have already remarked, the interior of the tents by no means exhibits the filth with which this people has been often charged. among the kalmucks, like most oriental nations, the stronger sex considers all household cares derogatory to its dignity, and leaves them entirely to the women, whose business it is to cook, take care of the children, keep the tents in order, make up the garments and furs of the family, and attend to the cattle. the men barely condescend to groom their horses; they hunt, drink tea or brandy, stretch themselves out on felts, and smoke or sleep. add to these daily occupations some games, such as chess, and that played with knuckle-bones, and you have a complete picture of the existence of a kalmuck _pater familias_. the women are quite habituated to their toilsome life, and make cheerful and contented housewives; but they grow old fast, and after a few years of wedlock become frightfully ugly. their appearance then differs not at all from that of the men; their masculine forms, the shape of their features, their swarthy complexion, and the identity of costume often deceive the most practised eye. we twice visited the kalmucks, and the favourable opinion we conceived of them from the first was never shaken. they are the most pacific people imaginable; in analysing their physiognomy, it is impossible to believe that a malicious thought can enter their heads. we invariably encountered the frankest and most affable hospitality among them, and our arrival in a camp was always hailed by the joyful shouts of the whole tribe hurrying to meet us. according to bergmann's book he seems not to have fared so well at their hands, and he revenges himself by painting them in a very odious light. but it must not be forgotten that bergmann was, above all things, clerical, and that he could not fail to be looked on with dislike by the kalmucks, who had already endured so many attempts of missionaries to convert them. it is, therefore, by no means surprising if he was not always treated with the deference he had a right to exact. as for that pride of the great men and that impudence of the vulgar, which so deeply stirred the indignation of the livonian traveller, these are defects common enough in all countries, and even among nations that make the greatest boast of their liberality; it would be unjust, therefore, to visit them too severely in the case of the kalmucks. a very marked characteristic of these tribes is their sociability. they seldom eat alone, and often entertain each other; it is even their custom, before tasting their food, to offer a part of it to strangers, or, if none are present, to children; the act is in their eyes both a work of charity, and a sort of propitiatory offering in acknowledgment of the bounty of the deity. their dwellings are felt tents, called _kibitkas_ by the russians. they are four or five yards in diameter, cylindrical to the height of a man's shoulder, with a conical top, open at the apex to let the smoke escape. the frame is light, and can be taken asunder for the convenience of carriage. the skeleton of the roof consists of a wooden ring, forming the aperture for the smoke, and of a great number of small spars supporting the ring, and resting on the upper circumference of the cylindrical frame. the whole tent is light enough to be carried by two camels. a kibitka serves for a whole family; men, women, and children sleep in it promiscuously without any separation. in the centre there is always a trivet, on which stands the pot used for cooking tea and meat. the floor is partly covered with felts, carpets, and mats; the couches are opposite the door, and the walls of the tent are hung with arms, leathern vessels, household utensils, quarters of meat, &c. among the most important occupations of these people are the distillation of spirits, and the manufacture of felts, to which a certain season of the year is appropriated. for the latter operation the men themselves awake out of their lethargy, and condescend to put their hands to the work. they make two kinds of felt, grey and white. the price of the best is ten or twelve rubles for the piece of eight yards by two. the kalmucks are also very expert in making leathern vessels for liquids, of all shapes and sizes, with extremely small throats. the women tan the skins after a manner which the curious in these matters will find described by the celebrated traveller, pallas. the priests, moreover, manufacture some very peculiar tea-caddies; they are of wood, their shape a truncated cone, with numerous ornamental hoops of copper. in other respects industry has made no progress among the kalmucks, whose wants are so limited, that none of them has ever felt the need of applying himself to any distinct trade. every man can supply his own wants, and we never found an artisan of any kind among the hordes. at astrakhan, there are some kalmuck journeymen engaged in the fisheries, and many of them are in high repute as boatmen. on the whole, it is not for want of intelligence they are without arts, but because they have no need of them. we frequently questioned the kalmucks respecting their wintering under a tent, and they always assured us that their kabitkas perfectly protected them from the cold. by day they keep up a fire with reeds and dried dung; and at night, when there remains only clear coal, they stop up all the openings to confine the heat. their felts, besides, as i know from experience, are so well made, as to shelter them completely from the most furious tempests. we have little to say of the education of the kalmucks. their princes and priests alone boast of some learning, but it consists only in a knowledge of their religious works. the mass of the people grovel in utter ignorance. nevertheless, a very notable intellectual movement took place among the tribes in the beginning of the seventeenth century, at which period zaia pandity, one of their high priests, invented a new alphabet, and enriched the old mongol language with many turkish elements. thereupon the kalmuck nation had a literature of its own, and soon, under the influence of its numerous traditions, and its historical, sacred, and political books, it exhibited all the germs of a hopeful, nascent civilisation; nor was it rare in those days to find men of decided talent among the aristocracy. but oubacha's emigration blighted all these fair hopes. the books were all carried off by the fugitives; the old traditions, so potent among asiatic nations, gradually became extinct, the natural bond that knitted the various hordes together was broken, and the kalmucks that remained in europe soon relapsed into their old barbarian condition. footnotes: [ ] the emperor subjoins in a note: "the nation of the torgouths arrived at ily in total destitution without victuals or clothing. i had foreseen this, and given orders to chouhédé and others, to lay up the necessary provisions of all kinds, that they might be promptly succoured. this was done. the lands were divided, and to each family was assigned a sufficient portion for its support by tillage or cattle rearing. each individual received cloth for garments, a year's supply of corn, household utensils, and other necessaries, and besides all this several ounces of silver to provide himself with whatever might have been forgotten. particular places, fertile in pasturage, were pointed out to them, and they were given oxen, sheep, &c., that they might afterwards labour for their own sustenance and welfare." chapter xxvi. buddhism--kalmuck cosmogony--kalmuck clergy--rites and ceremonies--polygamy--the khirghis. the kalmucks, like most of the other offshoots of the mongol stock, are buddhists, or rather lamites. according to the opinion of all writers, buddhism began in india, and buddha, afterwards deified by his followers under the name of dchakdchamouni, was its founder and first patriarch. opposed by the fanaticism of the children of brahma, the new creed made little progress, and appears to have been cruelly persecuted in the beginning. the learned researches of m. abel remusat have, however, demonstrated that there was a succession of twenty-eight buddhist patriarchs in india. it was not until about a.d. , that bodhidharma, impelled no doubt by the persecutions of the brahmins, set out for china, where the doctrines of buddha had already made considerable progress, as well as in thibet and great part of tartary. eight centuries, nevertheless, elapsed before the successors of bodhidharma emerged from their obscure and precarious condition: it was to the grand fortunes of the celebrated genghis khan they owed that royal splendour they afterwards enjoyed under the name of dalai lama. according to klaproth, the first traces of buddhism are recorded in a mongol book, entitled "the source of the heart," written in the time of genghis khan. it is there related that the conqueror, when about to enter the countries occupied by the buddhists, sent an embassy to their patriarch with these words: "i have chosen thee for my high priest, and for that of my empire; repair to me; i give thee charge over the present and future weal of my people, and i will be thy protector." the desires of genghis khan were quickly fulfilled; from that time forth the patriarchs often resided at the conqueror's court, and their religion was at last adopted by the greatest mongol warriors. in the reign of genghis khan's grandson, buddhism was already become a power; and then it was that the high priests, assuming the title of dalai lama, fixed their residence in thibet, where they continued to be treated as actual monarchs, until dissensions and rivalries destroyed all the prestige of their authority, and they became confounded with the other vassals of the empire of china. when buddhism installed itself in thibet, that country was already peopled with christians, and the nestorians had many monasteries there. the religious tolerance of the mongol monarchs was unlimited: all creeds enjoyed equal protection in their capital. the christians were especially numerous in the imperial city, where they had a church with bells, and were long presided over by an italian archbishop. the effect of this general toleration, and of the potent action of the principles of christianity, must necessarily have been to modify buddhism to an important degree; and we believe, with m. remusat, that we must refer to this period for the origin and explanation of the many points of analogy between it and the doctrines of christians. pallas and bergmann have written much on the religious cosmogony of the kalmucks; we will follow them in their investigations, and endeavour to complete them by means of our own observations. there was in the beginning an immense abyss, called khoubi saiagar, exceeding in length and depth , , berez (about , , leagues), and out of this abyss the taingairis, or aerial spirits, existing from all eternity, drew forth the world. first rose fiery-coloured clouds, which gathered together until they dissolved into a heavy rain, every drop of which was as big as a chariot wheel, and thus was formed the universal sea. soon afterwards there appeared on the surface of the waters an immense quantity of foam, white as milk, and out of it issued all living creatures, including the human race. we will say nothing of those hurricanes which, arising from the ten parts of the world, produced in the upper hemisphere that fantastic column, as lofty as the ocean is deep, round which revolve the various worlds of the buddhist universe. but we cannot forbear to mention the ingenious explanation by which the astronomers of thibet accounted for the periodical revolutions of the day. according to their sacred books, the mystic column has four faces, of different colours, argent, azure, or, and deep red. at sunrise the rays of the sun fall on the argent side, in the forenoon they are reflected from the azure, at noon from the gold, towards the close of day from the red surface, and the concealment of the orb behind the column is what produces night. all the books of the kalmucks speak of four great lands, which are sometimes spoken of as belonging to the same whole, sometimes as forming separate worlds. the first of these, lying eastward, is occupied by giants who are eight cubits high, and live for years; the second, towards the west, has inhabitants eleven cubits high, whose lifetime is years; the third, placed in the north, is still more favoured, for its inhabitants, though devoid of souls, live for years exempt from all infirmity. their stature is cubits. when the term of their existence is arrived, they assemble their families and their friends around them, and expire calmly at the call of a heavenly voice summoning them by their name. the fourth earth is that on which we dwell, and on which all the favours of the deity are profusely lavished. it has four great rivers bearing the mystic names of ganga, schilda, baktschou, and aipura, which take their rise in the heart of four great mountains, where dwells an elephant two leagues long, white as snow, and named gasar sakitschin koven (protector of the earth). this fabulous animal has thirty-three red heads, each furnished with six trunks, whence spout forth as many fountains, all surmounted with six stars. on each star sits a virgin always young and gracefully attired. these virgins are the daughters of the aerial spirits, one of whom, the most potent of all, sits astride on the middle of the elephant's head, when the animal thinks fit to change his quarters.[ ] in the beginning the inhabitants of this privileged earth lived , years, abounding in health, and incapable of forming a desire that was not instantly fulfilled. their eyes shot forth rays of light that supplied the place of the sun and the stars, and invisible grace stood them instead of all nourishment. it was during this golden age that most of the secondary divinities were born, and bourkhans were taken up from the earth to the abode of the blessed. but those blissful times came to an end, for, as in genesis, an unlucky fruit, for which mankind imprudently conceived a liking, was the cause of their downfal. the human race lost all its precious privileges; its wings failed; physical wants tormented it; its gigantic stature dwindled down, and the span of life was contracted to , years, whilst the luminous rays of the eyes, the only light of that period, disappeared. darkness then covered the face of the earth, until four powerful deities, touched with compassion, squeezed the mountain hard, and forced from it the sun and the moon, those two great luminaries which still exist in our day. the evil did not stop here. to the physical woes that afflicted man was soon added moral depravation; adultery, homicide, and violence supplanted the primitive virtues, and disorder reigned over the whole face of the habitable earth. during this long period of decay the duration of life underwent successive curtailments, and many bourkhans descended on earth to correct and ameliorate mankind. the bourkhan ebdekchi (the perturber) appeared at the time when the duration of life did not exceed , years. altan dohidakti, the bourkhan of incorruptible gold, appeared to the world when men only lived , years, and those whose years were but , were visited by the bourkhan guerel sakitchi (the guardian of the world). after him came massouschiri. lastly, the term of human, existence had been reduced to years, when the celebrated bourkhan dchakdchamouni, the founder of the existing sect, came upon the earth and preached the faith to one-and-thirty nations. a great moral revolution then took place in the world; but unfortunately the new law was variously interpreted, and thence resulted this great diversity of religions and languages. still, however, the degeneration of the human race is far from having reached its utmost limit. the life and stature of man and of all animals, will undergo a further considerable diminution in the course of ages. there will come a time when the horse will be no bigger than the present race of hares, and men but a few palms high, will live but ten years, and will marry at the age of five months. thus the buddhists have adopted notions diametrically opposed to those of certain modern philosophers, who think that we began as oysters and will end with being gods. which is the more absurd of these two opinions? we shall not attempt to decide the question, but leave it to our neighbours beyond the rhine, who are more competent than we to deal with such matters. the extreme limit of physical decay having been once attained, most living creatures will be destroyed by a mortal malady. but just when the world seems on the point of relapsing into the chaos from whence it issued, the voice of the celestial spirits will be heard, and some of the miserable dwarfs still peopling the earth will seek refuge in dark caverns; it will then rain swords, spears, and all sorts of deadly weapons; the ground will be strewed with corpses and red with blood. finally, a horrible down-pour of rain will sweep all the corpses and all the filth into the ocean. this will be the last act of the genius of destruction, soon after which a fragrant rain will vivify the earth. all sorts of garments and food will drop from the sky; the dwarfs that have escaped destruction will come forth from their caverns, and men, regenerated and virtuous, will at once recover their gigantic stature and their privilege of living , years. there will then be a new decay, and when the bourkhan maidari appears on earth, men will have again become dwarfs; but at the voice of that prophet they will be fully converted, and will attain a high degree of perfection. we will not follow lamism through its systems regarding the various epochs of the world. the notions of the kalmucks on this head are so confused, that i have been unable to learn any thing in addition to what is stated by the learned pallas. their sacred books speak of forty-nine epochs, ending by fire, or deluges, or hurricanes. they are all divided into four great periods. the first comprises the space of time in which human life begins with being , years long, and diminishes to , ; during the second period man perishes; during the third the earth remains desolate, and in the fourth occurs a hurricane which carries the souls from hell to the earth. we have already mentioned that happy epoch in which thousands of holy beings were raised to the heavens, and deified under the name of bourkhans. these bourkhans do not all hold the same rank, but differ from each other both in power and functions. the kalmucks, who hold them in great veneration, adore them as the most beneficent deities. their images are found in all the temples. the mighty dchakdchamouni is most especially worshipped. the bourkhans are supposed to inhabit different worlds; some dwell in the planets, others in the regions of the air, others again in the sky; dchakdchamouni still inhabits the earth. there is an infinite multitude of legends concerning these secondary divinities, especially the last named. the following adventure is related of him in all the religious books of the lamites, and is known to all the kalmucks: one day three bourkhans were praying with great fervour, and while their eyes were piously cast down, an infernal genius deposited his excrement in the sacred cup belonging to one of them. great was the stupefaction of the bourkhans when they lifted up their heads. they consulted further what they should do. if they diffused the pestiferous matter through the air, it would be the destruction of all the beings that people that element; if they let it fall on the earth, all its inhabitants would, in like manner, perish. they resolved, therefore, for the good of mankind, to swallow the dreadful substance. dchakdchamouni had the bottom of the cup for his share, and the legend states that so horrible was the taste, the poor bourkhan's face suddenly became blue all over. that god has ever since been depicted with a blue visage. the aerial spirits are next in importance to the bourkhans; some of them are beneficent, others malignant. the kalmucks worship these rather than the others, because they alone can do harm to mortals, whilst nothing but good offices are to be expected from the beneficent spirits. these genii are not immortal, and their power is much less than that of the bourkhans. the manner in which their race is propagated is very simple, but singular: an embrace, an exchange of smiles, or of gracious looks is sufficient with them to produce conception. all these spirits have divers abodes in the world and in the air; to the malevolent among them, the kalmucks attribute all the disorders of the atmosphere, and all pestilential diseases; the evil genii are particularly active in stormy weather, wherefore the kalmucks greatly dread thunder, and always fire many shots when a storm blows, in order to scare away the demons. there are also in the lamite religion a great many fabulous deities represented by monstrous idols, which appear to be old reminiscences of a primitive creed anterior to buddhism. it is remarkable that these idols have generally female faces. they are almost always decorated with the scarf of honour, or the bell and sceptre, used by the priests in their religious ceremonies, are placed in their hands. the priests are the makers of all these idols, some of which are of curious workmanship. the materials are baked earth, bronze, silver, or even gold. though the kalmucks address their worship almost exclusively to the host of secondary deities we have just mentioned, still they acknowledge a supreme being, to whom the bourkhans and the good and evil genii are but vassals: if they have no image or idol representing him, it is because the conception of the one eternal creator passes all the bounds of their imagination, and they rather apply their thoughts to beings less incomprehensible and less remote from their own nature. pallas seems to think that the kalmucks follow the system of epicurus, but the conversations i have had with many learned princes and priests, have convinced me of the contrary. the kalmucks and the mongols believe, like the hindus, in the transmigration of souls; but bergmann errs greatly in asserting that they have no other idea of immortality. i have investigated the popular notions on this subject, and my conviction is that the kalmucks consider the transmigration only as a longer or shorter trial which the soul of every man, not acknowledged a saint, must pass through before appearing in presence of the supreme judge. as for those who have been celebrated for their piety and their virtues, lamism teaches that they are raised to the rank of bourkhans, still preserving their former individuality. erlik khan is the great judge of the kalmuck hell, and before his awful throne all souls must appear, to be rewarded according to their works. if they are found just and pure, they are placed on a golden seat supported on a cloud, and so wafted to the abode of the bourkhans; if their sins and their good works seem to balance each other, then erlik khan opens his great book in which all the good and evil deeds of men are minutely recorded, and having cast the dread balance, he finally pronounces sentence. on the whole this king of hell seems a good-natured devil enough, for very often to avoid condemning an unfortunate sinner who has some good qualities to recommend him, he allows him to go back to earth and live over again in his own form. the kalmucks, always logical in their mythological notions, allege that they derive from men thus resuscitated all the knowledge they possess of hell and the future life. the imagination of the lamite priests has outstripped that of the christians, and of all other nations; indeed we know nothing that can be compared with the kalmuck hell. erlik khan, the judge of the dead, is likewise sovereign of the realm of the damned. his palace, which always resounds with the clashing of immense gongs, is situated in a great town surrounded with white walls, within which spreads a vast sea of urine and excrement, in which wallow the accursed. an iron causeway traverses this sea, and when the guilty attempt to pass along it, it narrows beneath them to a hair's breadth, then snaps asunder, and the wicked souls, thus tested and convicted, are straightway plunged into hell. not far from this place of horror is a sea of blood, on which float many human heads; this is the place of torture for such as have excited quarrels and occasioned murders among relations and friends. further on is seen the punishment of tantalus, where a multitude of damned souls suffer hunger and thirst on a white and arid soil. they dig and turn up the earth without ceasing; but their unavailing labour only serves to wear down their arms to the shoulders, after which the stumps grow again, and their torments begin afresh. such is the punishment of those who have neglected to provide for the wants and the jovial habits of the clergy. it would be tedious to pursue these details further; suffice it to say, that in describing the various torments of hell, the lamites have employed every device which the wildest imagination could conceive. we must, however, give these priests credit for one thing: they do not admit the eternity of punishment;[ ] but on the other hand, in the distribution of chastisement they have not forgotten the smallest offence that can possibly be committed against themselves. hence they have immense power over the people, whom they can induce to believe what they will. their cupidity is equal to their influence, and they never forego any opportunity of making their profit of the poor kalmuck. from all these particulars of the religious notions of the kalmucks, it is plain that the popular mythology of lamism is like many other superstitions, only a potent instrument invented by priests to fascinate and command the multitude. by means of these incredible fables, the lamite clergy have made themselves masters of the field, and hold great and small under their sway. it is to be remarked that in all religions ecclesiastical supremacy is inseparable from the creation of a hell, and that the one never exists without the other; in fact among nations where the idea of eternal punishments has been abandoned, the ministers of religion have seldom exercised an oppressive power over the people. this proves how large a part selfishness and the lust of sway have had in the construction of many religions; but in none has the priesthood evermore possessed a greater power than in buddhism; in none has it more violently opposed all who have sought to shake its sway by proclaiming the infinite mercy of god. as a natural consequence of the great prerogatives attached to the priesthood, the clergy are become extremely numerous among the followers of lama. prince tumene, whose oulousse is very inconsiderable, has at least three hundred priests attached to his pagoda. during our stay in astrakhan, we had opportunities of confirming, by our own observation, the truth of what pallas remarks, that there is much analogy between the religious ceremonies of the brahmins and those of the kalmucks. indeed, in studying the theological system of the lamites, it becomes clear that their doctrines have been partly borrowed from religions still in existence. who can fail to recognise the biblical allegory in the fruit _shimé_, which the first men were imprudent enough to taste? again, that period during which man was only unhappy, but not criminal, does it not represent the time that elapsed from adam's expulsion from paradise to the murder of abel? the traditions of the greek mythology appear also to have been made use of, for the dread erlik khan seems very like the pluto of the ancients; and perhaps the loathsome sea that encompasses his palace is but another form of the styx. it is unnecessary to remark that all these religious notions are familiar only to the priests and some princes; the common people are content to believe, worship, and submit blindly to the exactions of their spiritual guides. people begin, however, to observe a certain falling off in the observance of the precepts of lamism. thus, although a true follower of lama has a right to destroy only the carnivorous creatures that hurt his flocks, the kalmucks, nevertheless, put to death domestic animals, and make no scruple of hunting. they urge, it is true, in defence of these acts, that the prohibition against killing was not made by the gods themselves, but by one of their high priests who lived several centuries ago. nevertheless, there are many priests who would think themselves guilty of murder if they put to death the smallest insect; and very often it occurred when we were sporting, that several of them came and earnestly entreated us to liberate the bird we had just caught. in so doing they thought they performed an act of charity, and saved a soul. the modern kalmuck clergy are divided into four classes. the backshaus are the chief priests and religious teachers: in the caspian steppes the eldest of them is improperly styled the lama. the ghelungs are the ordinary priests, and may be compared in rank and functions to the french country _curés_. the ghetzuls, or deacons, constitute the third class; and the fourth consists of the mandshis, or musicians. above all these grades stands the dalai lama of thibet, the supreme head of the church. the russian kalmucks were formerly in constant communication with him, but since oubacha's emigration, the government has put a stop to this intercourse, which could not fail to thwart its views by keeping up a spirit of nationality among the kalmucks, and fostering their attachment to their religion. both the clergy and those in their service enjoy all possible immunities. they are exempt from all taxes and charges, and the people are bound to see that they want for nothing. it is true that the priests are prohibited by the rules of their religion from possessing property, but the restriction is evaded to a great extent, and the backshaus and ghelungs all possess numerous herds: if any one wants to buy a good horse, he must apply to them. the sloth and insolence of these priests passes all comparison; excepting their religious ceremonies, in which they chant some prayers and play on their instruments, they do absolutely nothing but eat, drink, and sleep. the meanest ghelung has always a retinue of some half dozen of deacons, who look after his cattle, his table, and his wardrobe. the ghetzuls are like our deacons, aspirants for the priesthood, and from their body the chief backshaus select the ghelungs, always having regard to the wealth of the candidates rather than to their good character or capacity. the ordination generally takes place towards the close of the great religious festivals, at which period the new ghelungs pass the whole night in marching round the priest's camp, chaplet in hand, barefooted, and with their shaven crowns uncovered. this is the last exercise preliminary to the commencement of their ministry. all the members of the clergy of every rank take vows of chastity, which they are far from observing; for there are few priests who do not indulge in illicit intercourse with married women. the poor husband does what he can to prevent this, but when he discovers the actual existence of the evil, instead of resenting it, he appears to accept his mischance as an honour, such is his veneration for his spiritual superiors. the priest, however, is forced to use stratagem for the indulgence of his passion. the reverend personage usually goes by night and pushes against the kibitka of the woman on whom his choice has fallen; whereupon she pretends to believe that some animal is prowling about, gets up, takes a stick, and goes out to drive it away. the priest then absconds with her, and the husband suspects nothing. the princes share these privileges with the priests, only they carry matters with a higher hand. when a woman strikes their fancy, they take possession of her without ceremony, and send her back when they are tired of her company. as for the husband, his resignation under such circumstances is almost always exemplary. he knows, too, that he may count thenceforth on the patronage of the amorous prince, and commit sundry peccadilloes on the strength of it with impunity. the marital policy is the same with regard to the priests. pallas, therefore, is wrong to express surprise at the fact that the kalmuck hell provides no punishment for the sin of wantonness. this omission does honour to the sly sagacity of the lamite priests, and proves how much they distrust their own virtue. as marriage is forbidden them, they are the more liable to sin in this way, and therefore it was not reasonable that in a religious system of their own making, they should inflict punishment on their own souls. we have already described the ceremonial garb of the priests, their ordinary costume consists of a wide tunic with sleeves, and a flat broad-brimmed hat of cloth. yellow and red are their favourite colours. the priests always pitch their tents at a certain distance from the oulousse to which they are attached, and usually range them in a circle round a large open space, in the centre of which stand the kibitkas that serve them for temples. such a camp is called a khouroul, and every evening the kalmucks assemble there in great numbers to perform their religious duties. the temples are generally adorned with rich silk hangings, and with a great number of images. opposite the door stands the altar with a little bronze image of dchakdchamouni upon it, and a profusion of votive cups filled with grain and beans, as customary among the brahmins; and one vessel of holy water in which several peacock's feathers are dipped. holy water plays an important part in the religious ceremonies of lamism; the ghetzuls distribute it in the great festivals to the people, who swallow some of it and wash their faces with the rest. it appears to be an infusion of saffron and sugar, but the kalmucks attribute to it very marvellous properties. a lamp burns day and night before the idol, which is generally clad in brilliant silks, the head and hands alone remaining uncovered. a silk curtain hangs before the other images, and is only raised at the time of prayer. the priests practise in a most scandalous manner on the credulity of the people. the first thing a kalmuck does when he falls ill, is to have recourse to the prayers and invocations of his priest. if he is poor he is usually let off for a pelisse or a cloak, which the ghelung carries off on the pretext that it is the abode of some evil genius who has caused all the patient's suffering. but when the sick man is a prince, the proceedings are in accordance with his fortune. in that case it is not in a pelisse or a cloak the demon abides; he is lodged in the very body of the prince, and the business is how to provide him with another dwelling. the backshau must be paid handsomely for finding a man who will take the disaster upon himself. this is usually some poor devil who is brought by fair means or by force into the sick man's tent, where after a multitude of odd ceremonies, he receives the name of the prince, and so the evil spirit passes into his body. he is then driven out of the oulousse with his whole family, and forbidden ever to set foot within it again. persons so treated are called _andin_ (fugitives). they may join another oulousse, but are always obliged to set up their tents at a distance from the general camp. the kalmucks have three great annual festivals, which they always take care shall last at least a fortnight each. the chief of the three called, _zackan zara_, is in celebration of the return of spring; the second (_urus zara_), which falls about june, consists in the benediction of the waters; and the third (_souloun zara_, or the feast of the lamp) takes place in december. an altar is then erected in the open air, and on it are set a great number of sacred lamps and candles, which are lighted by the priests at the moment the new moon is visible, in presence of the whole assembled clergy and laity. i borrow from bergmann a description of the feast of zackan zara at which he was present. "about noon," he says, "the sound of instruments gave token that the ceremony was about to begin, and i hastened to the khouroul, where the priests arranged in classes, and drawn up in line, were ready to begin the procession. the persons who only carried the instruments formed of themselves a considerable group. on the flanks of all those battalions of ghelungs, ghetzuls, and mandshis, floated sundry kinds of flags, some formed of strips of silk of many colours sewn in a ring, resembled the roman ensigns; others like our banners were fixed to cross rods supported on long poles. we had not long to wait ere the chief priests, carrying with them large chests, came forth from a kibitka, and put themselves at the head of the multitude. they were closely followed by many others dressed in their richest attire, who eagerly pressed forward to assist in carrying the chests, or even to touch them with the tips of their fingers. as for the instruments, the timbrels were fixed on pieces of wood, and the great trumpets were supported by rods carried by some of the common people. the multitude that closed the procession were scarcely more numerous than the priests, and the old women alone testified their piety by sighs drawn from the bottom of their hearts. at some hundred paces from the khouroul, a scaffolding had been erected in the form of an altar thirteen or fourteen feet high, braced with ropes before and behind. in front of the altar was a circular space covered with carpets, and intended for the priests, with an immense red silk parasol to shade the high priest who filled the functions of lama. the procession having reached the altar, the sacred chests were laid at its foot, and the images it contained were unmuffled. everything was now ready to begin the ceremony when the lama should arrive. "i availed myself of this pause to examine the sanctuary. on a yellow cloth richly embroidered with sacred flowers of a red colour, i saw several votive cups, and the gilded images of some deities. right and left of the altar stood the banners, and in front of it, but outside the carpeted circle, were the instruments. suddenly the music struck up, and the lama arrived, borne in triumph in a palanquin, from which he alighted at a little distance from the altar. a signal was then given; the curtain that hung before the images was raised, and the priests, the princes, and the whole people prostrated themselves three times. "after this ceremony, the vice-khan tchoutchei, who was present with his two sons, marched thrice with his whole suit round the circular space where the priests were squatted, and at last took his place beside the grand lama under the great parasol. his example was followed by his wife, only she took up her position outside the clerical circle, under a reserved pavilion where tea was presented to her. large wooden vessels filled with tea, and cakes, were then set before the priests, and a great number of sheep intended for dinner were slaughtered. the repast, often interrupted by prayers and other ceremonies, was protracted until sunset. the images were then rolled up again, and the chests carried back in procession to the tents whence they had been taken. the same ceremonies were repeated on the two following days, but other bourkhans were exhibited to the worshippers." this feast of zackan was instituted in honour of a victory achieved by djackdjamouni over six false doctors with whom he contended for more than a week. besides their great festivals, the kalmucks have also three days in every month (the th, th, and th) on which they kill no sort of animal, but every faithful follower of lama must live only on milk diet. the priests spend those days in the temple, praying from morning till night, and the people generally attend. the kalmucks practise family devotions, consisting of prayers chanted with some degree of harmony, in an alternation of acute and grave sounds and slow and quick measures. they pray with a rosary somewhat like those used in catholic countries, but oftener they perform that business by a mechanical process that does great honour to the inventive wit of the lamites. to invoke heaven in this way they have a drum or cylinder covered with tangout characters, and containing several sacred writings in its interior, and the whole operation consists in making the cylinder revolve more or less rapidly by means of a cord. this very simple method of praying leaves the mind quite free, and does not hinder the kalmucks from chatting, smoking, quarrelling, and abusing each other; provided the cylinder turns, the prayer is worked off of its own accord, and the bourkhans are quite satisfied. the followers of lama believe this manual occupation to be highly meritorious, and imagine that the noise made by the sacred writings, when the cylinder revolves, rises to the throne of the deity and brings down his blessing. the princes have a still easier method of worshipping. whenever they do not find it convenient to repeat their prayers orally, they plant before their tent a long pole to which is attached a flag inscribed with sacred verses; and thus they leave it to the winds to carry their homage to the throne of the bourkhans. lucky or unlucky days are carefully observed by the kalmucks. if one of the common people dies on a lucky day, he is buried, almost in the same way as among ourselves, and a small banner with a sort of epitaph is planted on his grave. on the contrary, if he dies on an unlucky day his body is laid on the ground, covered only with a felt or a mat, and the performance of his obsequies is left to carrion beasts and birds. in this case the relations or friends of the deceased watch to see by what kind of creature the corpse is first attacked, and from that fact they draw inferences as to how the soul fares in the other world. the rule is different with regard to princes, whose bodies are never exposed above ground. if they die on an unlucky day they are buried; otherwise they are burned with great pomp, and on the spot where they have expired a small chapel is erected, in which their ashes are deposited. the priests are still better off than the princes: die when they will they are always granted the honours of burning, provided they have had some reputation for sanctity in their lifetime; and their ashes are moulded into a little statue which is carried with great pomp to one of those small temples, called satzas, of which i have already spoken. the kalmucks who greatly venerate the tombs of their priests, try as much as possible to keep the lamp in each of them perpetually burning. if it goes out, the first person who passes that way is bound to relight it. the habits of private life among the kalmucks are of course in accordance with their state of civilisation and religious belief, and are strongly marked by all their gross superstitions. yet certain of their customs are serious and affecting, and cannot fail to make an impression on the traveller. others are curious for their patriarchal simplicity. when a woman is in labour, one or more priests are sent for, and whilst the husband runs round the tent with a big stick to drive away the evil spirits, the ghelungs stand at the door reciting prayers, and invoking the favour of the deity on the child about to be born. when the babe is come into the world, one of the relations goes out of the tent, and gives it the name of the first object he sees. this is the practice among all classes. i have known a prince _little dog_, and other individuals bearing the most whimsical names. the women remain veiled for many days after their delivery, and a certain time must elapse before they can be present at the religious ceremonies. the customs observed in marriages are more interesting, particularly when the young couple belong to the aristocracy. the preliminaries consist in stipulating the amount in horses, camels, and money, which the bridegroom is to pay to the bride's father; this being settled the young man sets out on horseback, accompanied by the chief nobles of his oulousse, to carry off his bride. a sham resistance is always made by the people of her camp, in spite of which she fails not to be borne away on a richly caparisoned horse, with loud shouts and _feux de joie_. when the party arrive at the spot where the kibitka of the new couple is to stand, and where the trivet supporting their great pot is already placed, the bride and bridegroom dismount, kneel down on carpets, and receive the benediction of their priests; then they rise, and, turning towards the sun, address their invocations aloud to the four elements. at this moment the horse on which the bride has been brought home is stripped of saddle and bridle, and turned loose for any one to catch and keep who can. the intention of this practice, which is observed only among the rich, is to signify to the bride that she is thenceforth to live only with her husband, and not think of returning to her parents. the setting up of the kibitka concludes the whole ceremony. the bride remains veiled until the tent is ready, and her husband taking off her veil, hands her into her new home. there is one curious incident in the marriages of the wealthy which deserves mention. the bride chooses a bridesmaid who accompanies her in her abduction; and when they come to the place for the kibitka, the bride throws her handkerchief among the men; whoever catches it must marry the bridesmaid. for a year after marriage the wife must confine herself to the tent, and during all that time can only receive visits on its threshold, even on the part of her parents. but when the year is out she is free to do just as she likes. all marriages are not contracted in this peaceable manner among the kalmucks. when the relations cannot agree on the terms, which is no unusual case, the question is very often settled by force. if the young man is really enamoured he calls together his comrades and by force or cunning carries off the girl, who, after she has once entered his tent, cannot under any pretext be reclaimed by her parents. lamism seems in the beginning to have forbidden polygamy and divorce, but these prohibitions have long become obsolete, and both practices are now legalised among all the kalmucks. in case of infidelity on the wife's part, the repudiation takes place publicly, if the husband requires it. the most broken down horse that can be found is brought out, its tail is cut off, the guilty woman is mounted on its bare back, and hooted out of the oulousse. but these scenes occur very rarely; for the offended husband usually contents himself with sending his wife away privately, after giving her a few head of cattle for her support. the kalmucks of the caspian indulge very seldom in polygamy; indeed i never heard of more than one individual who had two wives. the condition of women among them is very different from what prevails in turkey and great part of asia; the restrictions of the harem are unknown, and both wives and maids enjoy the greatest independence, and may freely expose their faces to view on all occasions. i have spoken of the efforts made by the moravian brethren of sarepta to convert the kalmucks, and of the intolerant manner in which the russian clergy put a stop to them. though we are by no means partisans of spiritual missions, and are of opinion that the apostles of our day often do more harm than good, still we cannot but regret the decision adopted by the synod. by their position, their industry, the simplicity of their religious notions, and their knowledge of the country, the moravians are most favourably circumstanced for effecting the civilisation and social improvement of the kalmucks; and there are some men among them who really understand their task. buddhism, as practised among the kalmucks tends to cramp all intellectual growth. consisting exclusively in gross and burlesque superstitions, though liberality and equality were its fundamental principles, that religion can now only serve to brutalise the people, and retain them under the yoke of a grasping and fraudulent clergy. in this point of view a conversion to more rational doctrines would evidently be for the welfare of the kalmucks; but the change should not be accomplished under the influence of so ignorant and superstitious a clergy as that of the russian church; for it would be better to leave the kalmucks to their old creed, and trust to time for their emancipation from the control of their priests. after all, the civilisation of these tribes is a difficult problem. looking to the arid land in which they dwell, we must confess that it would be fatal to them were they subjected to our rules of life. i resided a considerable time among them, and inured myself in a great degree to their habits; and when on returning to our civilised towns, i was again a witness of the struggles, passions, vices, and evils that torment most of the nations of europe, i could not but wish from my heart that the kalmucks may long retain their native habits, and very long remain safe from that ambitious civilisation that gnaws the souls of the various classes of our populations. * * * * * oubacha's emigration left the plains of the ural unoccupied for many years, and it was not until the beginning of this century that some khirghis tribes of the little horde entered on possession of them with the consent of the russian government. few at first, their numbers rapidly increased by new emigrations, and at last russia conferred upon the khirghis colony the entire and authenticated possession of about , , hectares of land. more fortunate than the kalmucks, this people still enjoys a certain degree of independence, in appearance at least if not in reality. they have their sovereign khan, pay no tax, and the only obligation imposed on them is to furnish a corps of cavalry in time of war. it is hard to know exactly the number of these khirghis. the russian government is always solicitous to persuade the world of the prosperity of its subject peoples, and to this end it publishes very fallacious documents. thus in a supplement to the journal of the ministry of the interior, august , , the population of the horde is set down at , tents, whereas the real number is but , as appears from an extract taken in my presence at astrakhan from the official documents of the military governor. but as the editor of the st. petersburg journal judiciously remarks, the tribe cannot but have augmented rapidly under the wise administration of russia, and it is from his admiration for his government he deduces the best proof in support of his statistical statements. such arguments have not much weight with us, and we even suspect that the number is an exaggeration, and that the khirghis have remained faithful to russia only because they cannot do otherwise, since the government has taken the precaution of imprisoning them between two lines of cossacks, those of the ural and the volga. besides, if i may judge from the facts communicated to me at astrakhan, the immigration of the khirghis was not so free as the government is pleased to proclaim it to have been. both force and fraud were employed to make them settle in regions from which russia derived no profit since the flight of the kalmucks. the khirghis are nomades, living in felt tents, and employed in cattle rearing, like the kalmucks. but they profess the mahometan religion, belong evidently to the turkish race, and have been from all time implacable foes to the mongol hordes. latterly, however, they appear to have lived in harmony with the kalmucks of the volga. their khan often visits prince tumene, and in more than khirghis encamped on the banks of the volga, and took part in the grand entertainments given by the kalmuck chief to the government authorities. but this state of peace is only the result of imperious necessity; if the hordes were independent, their old animosities would soon break out again. the present khan of the khirghis is giangour boukevitch, who is reputed to be an able man, and desirous of introducing european civilisation among his people. the emperor nicholas had a handsome wooden house erected for him at the foot of the sand-hills called ryn peski, but he seldom resides in it. a few paltry buildings have been subsequently erected, through the strenuous intervention of the russian _employés_, but it would be extravagant to behold in a score of cabins the elements of a future capital, as a certain st. petersburg journal is pleased to do. the khirghis will not so readily forsake their nomade ways. their territory is hardly better than that of the kalmucks; and their khan himself, obliged to camp out during the greater part of the year, in order to find fodder for his cattle, only returns to his pretended capital when the inclemency of winter drives him from his felt kibitka. it is necessary to exercise extreme caution and rigid criticism respecting all things pertaining to russia, if we would arrive at the truth; for otherwise we shall be every moment in danger of mistaking for an indication of improvement and increased prosperity what is but the result of arbitrary power. we have repeatedly noticed instances of such mistakes on the part of travellers who have recently visited the southern portions of the empire. never was any power more prodigal of outward decorations than the muscovite; russia is of all countries that which most lavishly expends its money to please the eye. to potemkin belongs the honour of having been the first to play off these mystifications, when he got up extemporaneous villages and herds of cattle all along the road travelled by catherine ii. in her journey to the crimea. he has had no lack of successors ever since. alleys of acacias spring up by enchantment in the new towns; churches and houses with columns and porticoes; magnificent double eagles bearing the crown and the sceptre; numerous bureaucratic sign-boards with gilded inscriptions, &c., are seen on all hands. this mania of wishing to appear what one is not, which has always characterised the russians, seems to us one of their greatest obstacles to all real improvement, and to be one of the most dangerous maladies of the empire. certainly it is a defect not easy to be avoided by a backward people who aspire to put themselves on a level with their more advanced neighbours; but in russia, unhappily, artificial ostentation has been systematised; not only does it exist among individuals, but it forms the basis of all the acts of the government; from one end of the empire to the other, in the towns and in the steppes of the caspian, its costly stage scenery is everywhere to be found; it has become the aim and the fixed idea of every man, from the ministers of state down to the lowest _employé_; and whilst millions are uselessly expended to adorn the drapery of the theatre, the framework of the social edifice is allowed to go to ruin. the future welfare and the real progress of the country are deemed of little moment, provided the vanity of the day be satisfied, and the comedy be well played before his majesty and the strangers whom curiosity induces to visit russia. after the khirghis, we have also on the left bank of the volga, near its mouths, a small tatar horde, called koundrof, an offshoot of the great tribe of the kouban. these tatars, who number about tents, were formerly bestowed by russia as vassals upon the khans of the kalmucks, but they were adroit enough to escape from taking part in oubacha's famous emigration. unavailing attempts have been subsequently made to colonise them. the governor of astrakhan made them build two villages thirty years ago; but they soon abandoned those fixed dwellings, and resumed their old roving habits. lastly, there are the black nogais, who occupy the banks of the terek, to the number of tents. we shall speak of them in detail in the next chapter. _table of the nomade population of the governments of astrakhan and the caucasus._ families. kalmucks , khirghis , koundrof tatars , sertof tatars black nogaïs , turcomans , ------ total , footnotes: [ ] after the curious researches of m. ferdinand denis, respecting the cosmography and the fantastic histories of the middle ages, we can no longer wonder at the singular conceptions of the kalmucks. the world of cosmas has likewise its four great sacred rivers, and he, too, like the followers of the dalai lama, makes the sun and the stars revolve round a mystic column. we might point out many other analogies between the mongol myths and those of the medieval writers; but we will rather refer the reader to the enchanted world of m. denis, to those elegant and poetic pages in which the learned librarian of sainte géneviève has so ably demonstrated the historical importance of all those fabulous legends, which at first appear to be only the idle ravings of an extravagant imagination. [ ] the priests, however, have endeavoured to persuade the people that there are five sins which inevitably draw down everlasting punishment: these are irreverence towards the gods, thefts committed in the temples, disrespect to parents, murder, and, of course, offences against the clergy. these ideas are for all that in contradiction to the sacred books; but it is not surprising that the ministers of the grand lama have sought to give them vogue amongst the multitude. chapter xxvii. the tatars and mongols--the kaptshak--history and traditions of the nogais. perhaps no people has given occasion to more discussions than the tatars and mongols, nor is the problem of their origin completely solved in our day, notwithstanding the most learned investigations. some admit that the tatars and mongols formed but one nation, others allege that they are two essentially different races. according to lesvèque d'herbelot and lesur[ ] the tatars are but turks. klaproth,[ ] while he asserts that the tatars and mongols spring from the same stock, nevertheless regards the white tatars, whom genghis khan conquered, as turks. lastly, d'ohson in his remarkable history of the mongols, treats the mongols and tatars as distinct races, but does not admit the theory of the turkish origin. the same uncertainty that hangs over the mongol and tatar hordes of the fourteenth century, prevails with regard to the people who, under the name of tatars, now dwell in the southern part of the russian empire; and they have been considered sometimes as descendants of the turkish tribes that occupied those regions previously to the twelfth century, sometimes as remnants of the conquering mongol tatars. let us try to unravel this tangled web of opinions, and see what may be the least problematical origin of these various nations. the chinese writers for the first time make mention of the tatar people in the eighth century of our era, under the name of tata, and consider them as a branch of the mongols. the general and historian, meng koung,[ ] who died in , and who commanded a chinese force sent to aid the mongols against the kin, informs us in his memoirs that a part of the tatar horde, formerly dispersed or subdued by the khitans,[ ] quitted the in chan mountains,[ ] where they had taken refuge, and joined their countrymen, who dwelt north-east of the khitans. the white tatars and the savage or black tatars then formed the most important tribes of those regions. according to d'ohson, the chinese comprehended under the name of tatars all the nomade hordes that occupied the regions north of the desert of sha no, either because the tatars were the nearest, or because they were the most powerful of all those tribes. the intercourse of the chinese with the west of asia, would have afterwards served to give currency to the general denomination by which they designated their nomade vassals; and thus from the commencement of the power of the genghis khan, those tribes would have been already known by the name of tatars,[ ] which was propagated from nation to nation until it reached europe, although it was repudiated with contempt by the conquerors themselves, as that of a nation they had exterminated. it is a fact established by the statements of many writers, and by d'ohson himself, that genghis khan annihilated the white tatars, and thus it has come to pass by a most curious freak of accident, that this extinguished people became celebrated all over the east by the conquests of its very destroyers. jean du plan de carpin expresses himself still more positively: "the country of the tatars," he says, "bears the name of mongal,[ ] and is inhabited by four different peoples, the jeka mongals, that is to say, the great mongals; the sou mongals, or the fluviatile mongals, who call themselves tatars from the name of the river that flows through their territory; the merkit and the mecrit. all these peoples have the same personal characteristics and the same language, though belonging to different provinces, and ruled by divers princes."[ ] he then goes on to speak of the birth of genghis khan among the jeka mongals, and of his conflicts with the sou mongals and the other _tatar_ tribes. on comparing this author with the chinese writers mentioned and commented on in the works of de guignes, abel rémusat and d'ohson, it will appear beyond all question that the jeka mongals are none other than the black tatars, and that the sou mongals are the representatives of the white tatars. as for the merkit and the mecrit, we confess, with m. d'avezac, that our knowledge of them amounts only to conjecture; but, whatever was their origin, they are of but little importance with regard to the question we are now discussing. the old mohammedan authors, such as massoudi and ebn haoucal, who treat of the nations of asia, appear not to have known the tatars, for they never speak of them. their name figures, however, in a persian abridgment of universal history, entitled "modjmel ut tevarikh el coussas;" and reschyd el dyn calls the tatars a people famous throughout the world; but it would be difficult to extract from these authorities any precise argument for the solution of our problem. after all, as previously to the days of genghis khan, the most important tribe of mongols bore the name of tatars, it is not surprising that the mussulman writers included the whole of that people under this denomination. the chinese, on the contrary, being in close intercourse with the tatars, their vassals, must of course have known their generic name, and transmitted it to us. now let us recapitulate. if we reflect that genghis khan, though born in the tribe especially designated as black tatars, yet adopted the denomination of mongols for his people; that historians have been unanimous in calling genghis khan's soldiers mongols; that the chinese chroniclers, de guignes, and many others, have considered the tatars as only a branch of the mongols; that du plan de carpin himself begins his history with these words: "_incipit historia mongalorum quos nos tartaros appellamus_," it will not be easy to deny, that previously to the twelfth century, previously to the great asiatic invasions, the tatars and mongols were parts of one nation, belonging to one race. if subsequently the hordes of genghis renounced their special name, this circumstance must be ascribed to the sanguinary contest which jessoukai and his son, genghis khan, had to sustain against their oppressors, the white tatars, then the principal tribe in those regions. but the term tatar still prevailed in europe, though it continued to be regarded as synonymous with mongol by all the chinese writers, and by most of those of other nations. the religious and political constitution of the various mongol or tatar branches before genghis khan, is very imperfectly known to us, and affords us no manner of ground for presuming a positive separation into two races. according to the mongol work, "the source of the heart," written in the beginning of the thirteenth century it appears that lamism was first adopted by genghis khan, and that it became under his successors the prevailing religion of the mongols proper. marco polo's narrative seems nevertheless to prove, that at the end of the thirteenth century the mongols had not yet entirely adopted the creed and rites of lamism; we now find it professed by all the kalmucks of russia. in later times, after the invasions by genghis khan and his sons, the europeans, through ignorance or heedlessness, gave the name of tatars not only to the tribes who had figured in those asiatic irruptions, but also to the mahometans, who had once been masters of the regions adjacent to the caspian and the black sea, and had been subjugated by those conquerors; hence have arisen in a great measure all the mistakes and discussions respecting the origin of the tatars. after the mongol torrent had subsided, europeans persisted in giving the appellation of tatars to all those mussulman nations originally of turkish origin, that to this day occupy the territory of kasan and astrakhan, the crimea and the region called turcomania, situated between the belur mountains, lake aral, and the caspian sea; and as all these nations exhibited a religious, political, and moral character peculiar to themselves, people were naturally led to distinguish them from the mongols, and to attribute to them a special origin. thus pallas and many other travellers, after visiting the mahometans of southern russia, and comparing them with the kalmucks, have made of the tatars and mongols two distinct races; and malte brun, in his geography, has given the name of tatar to all the tribes established in our day in turkistan, applying that of mongol exclusively to the nations inhabiting the central tableland of asia, from lake palcati and the belur mountains to the great wall of china, and to the siolky mountains which separate them from the manchous, a tribe of the great race of the tongouses. all these writers have failed to observe, that the appellation tatar lost all signification in asia under the destroying power of genghis khan, and has ever since existed only in the european vocabulary. doubtless, genghis khan and his successors did not achieve all their conquests by the arms of the mongols alone; and after having subjugated all the mahometan nations occupying the vast regions of turcomania and a part of western asia, they of course incorporated them with their hordes, and employed them in their european invasions. what, then, are we to suppose is the origin of all those tribes who, under the name of tatars, now inhabit the south of russia? we agree entirely with the opinion put forth in courtin's "encyclopédie moderne," that these tatars are nothing but turks, comans, or petshenegues, who having been at the commencement of the thirteenth century masters of all the countries north and west of the caspian sea as far the dniepr, were afterwards subdued by the sons of genghis khan, and contributed towards the foundation of a new empire comprised between the dniepr and the emba, to which was given the name of kaptshak, or kiptshak, a designation which appears to have been originally that of the territory. the princes of this empire were mongols or tatars, but the majority of their subjects were turks. it appears even that the latter formed a large portion of the armies of genghis khan in his late expeditions. the turkish language thus remained predominant throughout the kaptshak, little and great bokhara, and among the bashkirs and tchouvaches. a few mongol words are still found in the turkish dialect of the russian mahometans, but they are extremely rare, and this may be easily explained. the soldiers of the mongol army were of course bachelors, and when they married kaptshak women, their children adopted the language of their mothers. the sovereigns themselves of this new empire soon embraced mahometanism. bereke, the brother and successor of batou, set the first example; usbeck khan, who reigned in , followed in his steps, and declared himself the protector of islam, which thenceforth became the creed of the conquerors as well as of the conquered. it must not be inferred from the preceding statement that the turks and mongols may not, in more remote times, have belonged to one and the same race; we are not quite of that opinion; we have considered the turkish race only under the conditions in which it appeared in europe and asia about the twelfth century, that is to say, modified by long contact with the caucasian nations, and we have left altogether out of view what it may previously have been. moreover, if de guignes is rightly informed, the inhabitants of the kaptshak are really of mongol origin, and the soldiers of genghis khan took pains to prove to them that they were their countrymen. towards the close of the fifteenth century, the empire of the kaptshak was divided into several khanats--kasan, astrakhan, and the crimea, the rulers of which, descended from genghis, were all mongols; but then they had no longer armies drawn from the interior of asia, and the turkish element finally prevailed throughout the whole population. still, it cannot be denied that the mahometan hordes of russia present some resemblance to the mongols, and this tends to confirm the ideas we have expressed above. but then it is obvious that two nations that served so long under the same banners, and lived under the same government, must have intermarried with each other, and that their blood must have been frequently mingled. moreover, it is a most remarkable fact, with what pertinacity the mongol type maintains its identity in spite of the mixture of many generations; a few marriages are sufficient to spread traces of it in the course of a certain time, over a whole nation. i have seen one example of this in the cossacks, who have been living amidst the kalmucks for about two hundred years. the tatars in the mountains of the crimea more rarely exhibit mongol features; the greek profile is frequently found among them. this difference is owing to their mixture with the goths, the greeks, and the remnants of other nations that have successively overrun the peninsula. the nogais, who inhabit the plains of the crimea, and the steppes of the sea of azof, are unquestionably the nearest in appearance to the mongols of all the tatars, and generally their physiognomy is such as cannot be attributed to any other origin. moreover, according to their own traditions, they never made part of the kaptshak, nor did they arrive in europe until subsequently to the death of genghis khan, after having dwelt from time immemorial, if not with the mongols, at least in their vicinity. according to lesvèque, the horde of the nogais, long the most celebrated of the west after that of the kaptshak, was constituted in the thirteenth century by nogai, a tatar general, who, after conquering the countries north of the black sea, succeeded in forming a state independent of the kaptshak. the traditions i collected among the nogais themselves, make no mention whatever of a general of that name; their chronicles allege that the name of the nation is derived from _neogai_ (which may be translated by the phrase, _mayst thou never know happiness_), and that it was bestowed on them in their old country, on account of their precarious and vagabond life.[ ] i am inclined to adopt this opinion; for considering the importance which the nogais attach to nobility and to antiquity of race, it would be very extraordinary that they should not have preserved the name of the founder of their power. the same traditions relate that after the death of genghis khan, the horde whence the nogais of the crimea are descended, arrived under the command of djanibek khan on the volga, the left bank of which it kept possession of for many years. part of this horde afterwards crossed the river, and advancing to the foot of the caucasus, settled on the kouma and the terek. the principal tribe of these tatars, and the same of which we are about to speak, soon forsook those regions, and after crossing the don, the dniepr, and the dniestr, finally settled in bessarabia, in the country called boudjiak. there it remained more than half a century; but being continually harassed by the turks and moldavians, it abandoned its new country, retraced its steps, and under the command of jannat bey, traversed the crimea and the straits of kertch. after reaching the banks of the kouban, the horde was broken up, by internal dissensions, into three branches, the largest of which remained on the kouban, and the others recrossed the straits. one of these tribes fixed itself on the plains of the crimea, and the other returned to bessarabia, partly by land, partly by sea. the nogais of the kouban again divided into several tribes, some of which connected themselves with the kalmuck hordes, others with the mountaineers of the caucasus. during all these emigrations, they were successively commanded by jam adie, kani osman, and kalil effendi, the tatar of the crimea. the latter, at the head of one of the principal tribes the kouban, marched along the eastern coast of the sea of azof, crossed the don, and encamped on the banks of the moloshnia vodi, where he died; his tomb still exists near the nogai village of keneges, on the berda. he was succeeded by asit bey, who ruled for seventeen years, and was the last tatar chief; he died in . but long before his death, in the time of catherine ii., these nogai hordes were completely subjected to the laws of the empire, and were under the management of russian officials. count maison, a french emigrant, was appointed their governor in , and he it was, who by dint of perseverance, made them renounce their nomade ways, and settle in villages. the nogais now occupy the whole region between the sea of azof and the moloshnia vodi. they are about , souls, residing in seventy-six villages. as long as they were vagrants they remained very poor, cultivating no grain but millet, which was their usual food, and of this they could hardly procure a sufficient supply. turbulent, fickle, and thievish, they had an insurmountable aversion for all steady toil, and particularly for agricultural labour; their occupations were tending cattle, hunting, riding, music, and dancing. they were fond of assembling and sitting in a ring, smoking and hearing the traditions of their forefathers. all the cares of the household fell upon the women. their clothes, cooking utensils, bread, &c., they procured in exchange for cattle. they seldom remained many months in one spot; an hour was enough for them to pack up wife, children, and goods in their araba,[ ] and then moving at random towards some other point of the horizon, they carried with them all they possessed. "such is the order established by god himself," cried the nogai, "to us he has given wheels, to other nations fixed dwellings and the plough." there was little wealth among them in those times, though there was a certain overbearing aristocracy that monopolised all the gifts of fortune and power to the detriment of the other members of the community, many of whom, either through ignorance or sloth, became even slaves of the shrewder and braver. such was the origin of the authority of the mourzas, or noble chiefs of the _aouls_ (villages, encampments). the nogais had for their emigrations, like the kalmucks, circular tents of felt, three or four yards in diameter, and conical at top. in winter, they constructed earthen huts beside their kibitkas. such cold and damp dwellings were very prejudicial to health, as was proved by the multitude of children that died every year. under count maison's wise and disinterested administration, all these old habits disappeared by degrees, and the nogais began to improve their condition. by dint of patience and zeal they were prevailed on to build commodious dwellings, and having once established themselves in villages, their prosperity went on regularly increasing, and every man had the means of procuring subsistence for his family by his own labour. count maison is still remembered by the nogais with the most lively gratitude, but his honesty did not protect him from malevolence and intrigues; it provoked against him all the subordinate functionaries whose peculations he prevented; and after enduring disgusts and annoyances without number, he sent in his resignation to st. petersburg in . since that time the nogais have had no special governor, but are under the control of functionaries attached to the ministry of the interior, who reside in their villages. they have, however, preserved the judicial authority of their cadis, and the russian tribunals only take cognizance of those criminal and civil cases which the cadis cannot decide. the nogais are exempt from military service, but they pay money contributions to the crown, at the rate of thirty rubles for each family. for about fifteen years past a mennonite of the german colonies has of his own accord continued the work so judiciously begun by count maison. m. cornies, one of the most remarkable men in new russia, deservedly exercises the greatest influence over the nogais, among whom his advice and exertions have already produced some excellent results. the miserable villages of former days have been gradually superseded by pretty houses in the german style, surrounded with gardens, and agriculture has made such progress, that a large number of farmers are now able to export corn. the nogais are rather strict observers of the precepts of islam. their country contains eleven mosques, and each village has several houses for prayer. their clergy are subject to the mufti of the crimea and of his representative, who resides in the aoul of emmaout; they consist of effendi mollahs, mollas, and cadis. the mollahs take tithe of all grain, and a fortieth of the cattle. their functions are to call the people to prayer, to pray for the sick, write talismans, preside at sacrifices, marriages, and funerals, and perform all the rites of public worship. the effendi mollahs draw up articles of marriage and divorce; and, in concert with the village elders, they decide all quarrels and suits between husband and wife, and all questions relative to the sale of the latter. they also fulfil along with the cadis the duties of interpreters of the law, and preceptors of the koran. circumcision, which boys undergo at ten or twelve years of age, is performed by the bab (father), whose office is hereditary. hadjis, or pilgrims, who have visited the kaaba of mecca, though they have no official duties, still possess great authority, and are consulted on almost all occasions; they are distinguished by a green or white shawl rolled round their woollen caps. the pilgrimage to mecca, is not quite obligatory on the nogais, who generally exempt themselves from it by means of offerings and sacrifices. the new measures adopted by the russians render this journey very difficult, and the tatars must soon renounce it altogether. every individual is bound before he sets out to prove that he takes with him at least _l._; his passport costs him nearly _l._, and if he does not return, the whole village where he was born is bound to pay his quota of taxation until a new census of the population is made. expiatory sacrifices are very common among the nogais: they take place during the kourban bairam, on the occasion of a death, for the commemoration of deceased persons, on the celebration of a marriage, on return from a journey, and as an atonement for the omission of any religious duty. those who offer them up invite to their houses their friends and relations, and the poor of the village, to whom they give a good portion of the victim, which is either a sheep or a cow, according to the wealth of the individual, or the importance of the occasion. the great forty days fast of ramazan is strictly observed only by aged persons of either sex. curiously enough the obligation of prayer is imposed only on persons aged forty or fifty; the seventh day of the mussulman week, which corresponds to our friday, is celebrated only by the priests and some devout old men. the prohibition against wine is not at all regarded by the young, especially in travelling. in general the rising generation of nogais pay very little heed to the commandments of mahomet, and by no means share this religious fanaticism of the asiatic mussulmans. long and handsome beards are held in great veneration among them. old men shave the whole head, but the young leave a small tuft growing on the top of the crown. this custom obliges them to wear woollen caps in all seasons. the nogais have generally two wives, and some even three, but this is a very rare case. the plurality and sale of wives frequently occasion quarrels, brawls, and acts of bloody vengeance. charity, which is regarded in the koran as one of the greatest virtues, extends only to the poor who beg from door to door, and who are usually given a little bread and millet. orphans and old people are left to the care of their friends or relations, for the nogais have no public establishment for the indigent. the fidelity of the nogais is proverbial; even the most thievish of them would never betray a trust reposed in them. as for the ancient hospitality, it is now only exercised from habit, and very rarely from virtue. still they invariably afford the most cordial welcome to every aged mussulman or hadji, and in these cases their hospitality is quite patriarchal. reverence for the aged is considered by them as a sacred duty. one of the most striking characteristics of these tatars is their excessive vanity with regard to every thing that concerns the nobility of their ancestors. it shows itself not only towards strangers, but also in their dealings with each other. they profess likewise the most profound contempt for the persians, the turks, and even for the mountain tatars of the crimea, and deem it a dishonour to intermarry with those nations, which yet are of the same creed, if not of the same origin with themselves. the nogai alternates between total supineness and extraordinary exertion, so that to make any profit of him he must be employed by task work and not by the day. this sloth, however, is not so much a vice inherent in the character of the nation as a result of its old vagrant and precarious existence, and of its limited wants. on the other hand, the nomade habits of other days have developed the capacity of this people in a remarkable degree, and whether as artisans or journeymen, agriculturists or manufacturers, the nogais invariably give proof of great ability and skill. the nogai is of moderate stature, but well proportioned; his movements are free and unembarrassed, and his attitude is never awkward under any circumstances. the women are, like all those of the east, comely when young; but when old they are horribly ugly. neither sex exhibits any decided national physiognomy; countenances both of the circassian and the mongol type are very common among them. the nogai constructs his own cottage with bricks dried in the sun, and whitewashes it regularly once a year within and without. its dimensions are scarcely more than two or three-and-thirty feet by thirteen. the roof consists of a few rafters on which are laid reeds and branches of trees loaded with earth and ashes. a dwelling of this kind hardly costs more than rubles; others of a larger size, with a floor and ceiling of wood, cost from to rubles. each dwelling consists of two rooms, the kitchen, which is next the entrance, and the family room. the kitchen contains a fireplace, an iron pot, wooden vessels for milk and butter, harness and agricultural implements; the second room, which serves as a dormitory, is furnished with felt carpets, quilts, a pile of cushions, boxes containing clothes, and a dozen of napkins embroidered with coloured silk or cotton, according to the fortune of the family, and hung round the room. when the nogai has two or more wives he constructs his house in such a manner that each of them may have her separate room. the costume of the nogais is commodious. it consists of wide trousers, a cotton or woollen shirt, and a short caftan, fastened round the waist with a leathern girdle. their head-dress is a cylindrical cap of lamb's-skin. in the winter they wear a sheep's-skin over the caftan, and in snowy weather they muffle themselves in a bashlik, or hood, which conceals their head and shoulders. the women wear a shift, a cloth caftan, belted above the hips with a broad girdle adorned with large metal buckles, turkish trousers and slippers. their head-dress is a white veil fastened to the crown of the head, with the two ends hanging gracefully on the shoulders. they wear little silver finger and nose rings, and heavy earrings often connected by a chain passing under the chin. young girls part their hair into a multitude of tresses, and instead of the veil wear a little red skull-cap bedizened with bits of metal and all sorts of gewgaws. the nogais eat mutton, beef, mares' flesh, &c., fish, and dairy produce. they prepare koumiss from mares' milk, and esteem it above all other liquors. they also kill sick horses for food, and very often do not disdain the flesh of one that has died a natural death. mares' flesh, minced, forms the chief part of a national dish called _tarama_, which the men eat with their friends in token of sincerity and brotherhood. the women are not allowed to partake of these repasts. their favourite dish is millet boiled in water, with a little sour milk called _tchourtzch_. kalmuck tea is also much esteemed, and since the improvement of agriculture, the use of bread, which was formerly unknown, is gradually spreading among them. their most common diseases are fever, small-pox, ulcers, itch, and syphilis. no one takes any means either to avoid or cure them. charms are the only medicine known to the nogais, and they are even quite indifferent to certain maladies which they attribute to fatality. they attribute great medicinal virtues to pepper, alum, sugar, and honey. the mortality of infants is frightful among them, and accounts for the stationary condition in which the population has long remained. no system of education as yet exists among the nogais; their children grow up like the young of animals. every village, indeed, possesses a cabin decorated with the name of school, in which the clergy give some imperfect lessons in the tatar language and writing; but the rest of their teaching, which is exclusively religious, consists in the reading of arabic books, which the teachers understand no better than the pupils. the rearing of cattle, particularly horses, forms the chief occupation of the nogais. their horses are of the kalmuck khirghis race, nimble and robust, though of moderate size, and usually fetch from to rubles: they pass the whole year in the steppe, and have to find their food under the snow in winter. the horned cattle is small. the cows sell for twenty or thirty rubles; they give little milk, and are generally unprofitable. camels are little used and seldom seen. in count maison's time the nogais were required to sow, at least, two tchetverts of corn per head, which made a total of about , tchetverts for the whole population. a year after the count's retirement, the seed sown in the whole territory did not exceed , tchetverts, and the quantity went on diminishing from year to year. but since the disastrous winters, for cattle, of and , the nogais have been induced, by m. cornies, to apply themselves again to agriculture, and the women have taken a part with the men in field labours. their mode of cultivating the ground is extremely defective; they have bad ploughs drawn by four or five pair of oxen, whilst their neighbours, the germans, do infinitely more work with but two. the harvest generally takes place in july, and is a season of great jollity. gipsy musicians stroll over the country at that period, and collect an ample store of wheat and millet. the corn is trodden out by horses in the open air: the best, which is called _arnaout_, sells at from seven to twelve rubles the tchetvert. the territory of the nogais is still common property, and the want of finite boundaries occasions many quarrels, especially at harvest time. as usual, among eastern nations, the nogai women do all the household drudgery, for the men think it beneath them to take part in it. the poor mother of the family is therefore obliged to prepare the victuals with her own hands, to wash the linen, milk the cows and mares, keep the house in repair, churn butter, &c., and take care of the children. she must also gather the firewood, prepare all the drinkables, make candles and soap, and dress the sheep-skins to make pelisses for all the family. this is hard drudgery, and a few years of such married life suffice to make her old. under such circumstances it is not surprising that the nogai cannot content himself with one wife, and that the purchase of young girls is so important and costly an affair among them. a man usually chooses his wife from a remote village; for every young man makes it a point of honour not to have seen his wife before marriage. the only particulars he is anxious to learn indirectly is whether the lady is plump and has long hair. when his choice is fixed, he bargains with the father or the relations of the girl for the price he is to pay for her. a handsome girl of good family costs four or five hundred rubles, besides a couple of score of cows and a few other beasts. young widows are cheaper, and old women are to be had for nothing. the bride's price is paid on the spot by the wooer, and a horse and two oxen are reckoned equivalent to a couple of cows. the girl's inclinations are never consulted, and she submits to her lot with stoical indifference; she is given dresses, mattresses, and cushions by way of dower. matches are often made when the bride is still in her cradle, the bridegroom's father paying down a part of the stipulated sum, and when the girl has attained the age of thirteen or fourteen, the marriage takes place without any opposition on the young man's part. but this traffic in girls often occasions long lawsuits between families. various accidents occur to prevent the espousals, such as mutilation, loss of health or beauty, and, above all, bad faith, and hence arise animosities that are often transmitted from one generation to another. the women of the mountain race of tatars of the crimea, and the kalmuck women, cost less than young nogai girls, and are purchased by the poorer classes. on the day appointed for the wedding, the young people, who have not yet seen each other, choose each of them a deputy, who exchange hands on their behalf, and thus the marriage rite is accomplished. the day is spent in merriment, and in the evening the bride is veiled, and escorted by a troop of women to the conjugal abode, where she sees her husband for the first time. the young wife must remain shut up at home for a whole year, and see no men, conversing only with her husband and his relations. after this her emancipation is celebrated by a grand banquet. the nogai women are very timid, for the jealousy of their husbands is extreme. when a married man dies, his brothers inherit his widows, and may keep or sell them as they please. a husband may repudiate his wife whenever he chooses, but she is entitled to marry again after the legalisation of the divorce. when a nogai has many wives, the first retains peculiar privileges so long as she is young and handsome, but when her beauty fades, a younger rival always gains the good graces of the husband. hence arise interminable quarrels, and domestic peace is only maintained by the kantshouk or whip of the lord of the mansion. on the whole, the women endure a hard slavery; but their ignorance of a better state of things makes their chains set light on them, and they are insensible of the degraded condition in which they are kept by their absolute lords. it would be difficult to predict with accuracy the fate reserved for all this mahometan population. the nogais have doubtless made great progress within the last twenty years; but their religious notions and their moral and political constitution will long impede their complete reformation, and it will need many a generation to eradicate from among them all those prejudices and all those old habits of a wandering life, which so fatally obstruct their prosperity and their intellectual growth. besides, it is now impossible to mistake the tendency of the policy adopted by the russian government towards the foreign races: there is every reason to think that they will at last be entirely absorbed by the slavic population. footnotes: [ ] histoire de la russie, par lesvèque. bibliothèque orientale, par d'herbelot. hist. des cosaques, par lesur. [ ] voyage au caucase, par klaproth, en et . [ ] see klaproth, asia polyglotta, p. . [ ] the kitans occupied the country north of the chinese provinces of tschy li and ching-ching, watered by the charamuin, or liao ho and its confluents. ibid. [ ] the chain of mountains called in chan, begins north of the country of the ordos, or of the most northern curve of the hoang ho, or yellow river, and extends eastward to the sources of the rivers that fall into the western part of the gulf of pekin. [ ] we have entirely rejected from our discussion the word _tartar_, which owes its origin only to a _jeu de mots_, of which st. louis was the author. [ ] _mongal_ is the most frequent reading in the mss.; and where the more exact reading, _mongal_, occurs, it is probably a correction by the copyists. _mongal_ is the form prevalent among the russians; and we have already had occasion to remark, that in transcribing proper names, du plan de carpin generally adopts the slavonic pronunciation, as he had it from his companion and interpreter, benedict of poland. (extract from the interesting treatise of m. d'avezac, on the travels of du p. de c.) [ ] terra quadam est in partibus orientis de qua dictum est supra, quæ mongal nominatur. hæc terra quondam populos quatuor habuit: unus yeka mongal, id est magni mongali vocabantur; secundus su mongal, id est aquatici mongali vocabantur; sibi autem se ipsos tartaros appellabant, a quodam fluvio qui currit per terram illorum qui tatar nominatur. alius appellabatur merkit; quartus mecrit. hi populi omnes unam formani personarum et unam linguam habebant, quamvis inter se per provincias et principes essent divisi. in terra jeka mongal fuit quidam qui vocabatur chingis; este incepit esse robustus venator coram domino: dedicit enim homines furari, rapere prædam. ibat autem ad alias terras et quoscumque poterat capere et sibi associare non demittebat; homines autem suæ gentes ad se inclinavit, qui tanquam ducem ipsum sequebantur ad omnia malefacta. hic autem incepit pugnare cum su mongal sive tartaris, postquam plures homines aggregaverat sibi, et interfecit ducem eorum, et multo bello sibi omnes tataros subjugavit et in suam servitutem recepit ac redegit. post hæc cum omnibus istis pugnavit cum merkitis, qui erant positi juxta terram tartarorum, quas etiam sibi bello subjecit. inde procedens pugnavit contra mecritas et etiam illos devicit. [ ] the name _nogaï_ appears to me to have occasioned the same mistakes as tatar; misled by the conspicuous part played for some time by the nogaï hordes, most writers have comprehended under that name all the mussulman tribes of the provinces of astrakhan and kasan. [ ] a large four-wheeled vehicle covered with felt. the wheels are never greased, and the noise they make can often be heard at a distance of several versts. chapter xxviii. banks of the kouma; vladimirofka--m. rebrof's repulse of a circassian foray--bourgon madjar--journey along the kouma-- view of the caucasian mountains--critical situation--georgief --adventure with a russian colonel--story of a circassian chief. notwithstanding the dangers and hardships that had attended our desert wanderings, it was not without some degree of regret we bade a final adieu to the kalmucks, whose patriarchal simplicity of life we had shared for more than a month. but as we approached vladimirofka, and beheld the clear waters of the kouma, its wooded banks, and the lovely scenery around, the change was indescribably delightful to eyes long accustomed to the blank and arid wilderness. in front of us stood a handsome dwelling on a gentle slope, flanked with two turrets, and surmounted by a belvedere rising above the trees. behind us lay the kalmuck camps and their herds of camels, resembling in the distance those effects of the mirage that are so common in the desert. a little to the left, the village, picturesquely situated at the foot of the mansion, descended in terraces to the margin of the kouma, displaying its pretty workshops, and its houses parted from each other by plantations of mulberries, hazels, and lombardy poplars, tinted with the varied hues of autumn. all the enchantments that opulence could call forth from a fruitful soil, were there assembled, as a bountiful compensation for our past fatigues. the camel-drivers and the cossacks of our escort fully shared our delight, and remained like ourselves wonder-stricken before that brilliant apparition. soon afterwards we entered the yard of the mansion, which was soon crowded with _employés_ and servants, all greatly puzzled to conceive whence could have come so strange a caravan. our appearance might well excite their astonishment. the britchka, drawn by three camels, preceded a little troop composed of four or five cossacks, armed to the teeth, and several kalmucks leading other camels loaded with all our nomadic gear. our cossack officer, with his falcon on his fist, and his long rifle slung behind him, rode close to the door of the carriage, ready, with russian precision, to transmit our orders to the escort, and to gallop off at the slightest signal; whilst our dragoman, lolling on the box-seat with italian _nonchalance_, looked down with profound disdain on the bustling throng around us, and did not condescend to answer one word to their thousand questions. m. rebrof, the proprietor of vladimirofka, having been waited on by our officer, came out and welcomed us in the most polite and cordial manner, and showed us into delightful apartments on the ground floor, looking out on a large, handsome garden, and containing a billiard-table and several numbers of the _revue etrangère_. then, after empowering us to make free use of his servants, his garden, his horses, and all his property, our host left us to ourselves, with a delicate tact not always displayed even by well-bred persons. well, after all, it is a very good thing when one has long been deprived of all the comforts and conveniences of life, to come upon them again in full measure, and slide back into one's old habits; to pass from the kalmuck kibitka to a lordly mansion,--from the horrible flat cake of unleavened dough to fresh bread every day--from the wearisome march of the camels to the repose of the divan--from the monotony of the steppes to all the comforts of civilised life. it is really a very good thing, especially if one has the rare good fortune to enjoy, in addition to all these pleasures, the hospitality of a most friendly and engaging family. in fact, what gives the most racy zest to travelling is precisely these contrasts that await you at every step, and which enable you to appreciate matters justly by comparison; for after all what is a good dinner to one who dines well every day? what are a divan, books, music, pictures, to the privileged being who has them always before him? more than half his time is spent in yawning at the chimney corner; music wearies him; reading makes his eyes ache; his cook is a dull blockhead, and has no invention! oh, the weary dreary lot of the wealthy man! but let some good genius suddenly whisk him off into the heart of the desert; let him be forced to wash down his biscuit with brackish water from the standing pool, to count on his falcon's quarry for his dinner, to lie on the hard ground, to bear rain, wind, and dust, to hear only the cries of camels, and see only kalmuck faces; and afterwards, when he returns to all the good things he despised before, he will be heard exclaiming in the joy of his heart, "oh! what a pleasant thing it is to eat, sleep, and dream; what a very comfortable life this is!" vladimirofka is one of the finest properties i have seen in russia. the whole economy of this magnificent establishment bespeaks the enlarged and enlightened views of its master. it is about fifty years since m. rebrof laid the first foundations of his colony, undismayed by the obstacles and dangers he encountered in all shapes. he wished to make profitable use of the fine waters of the kouma, which had never before been bridled in their course by man; and now several mills, set up by him, enliven the whole neighbourhood by their continual din. the mildness of the climate has allowed him to make numerous plantations of mulberries, which have perfectly succeeded, and to establish factories, the productions of which may vie with the finest silks of provence. another manufacture which he is carrying on with great spirit is that of champagne wine. he sends every year at least , bottles to moscow, and sells them at the rate of four rubles a bottle. by dint of energy and perseverance he has called up life and abundance in a wild uncultivated spot, which before had served only for the temporary halts of the kalmucks and turcomans. many peasants whom he brought with him from great russia, and who had been habituated to an almost savage state of existence, have been transformed by him into good workmen, industrious husbandmen, and, on occasion, into soldiers devoted to their master. in , some three-score circassians, tempted by the hope of a rich booty, made a descent from their mountains to sack and pillage vladimirofka, expecting to surprise the little village population by night, and to find them wholly unprepared. but though m. rebrof had enjoyed complete security for many years, he had never deceived himself as to the dangers of his position, but always expected to be attacked sooner or later; and, therefore, he had from the first taken all possible precautions against the designs of his formidable neighbours. two branches of the kouma served as fosses for the village and the château; there was a small redoubt with two pieces of cannon commanding the most exposed side, and in a room on the ground-floor of the mansion there was a well-stocked armoury, with all things requisite for sustaining a siege. with these means, m. rebrof felt confident he could resist any attack. every night two sentinels kept watch until dawn, and it was this seemingly superfluous measure that saved vladimirofka from total destruction. the circassians, never reckoning on such extreme caution, arrived one night in face of the village, and felt sure that their approach was unsuspected. but the alarm had been already given, and the whole population, suddenly aroused out of their sleep, were ready for the fight. arms were distributed to the workpeople and servants, the drawbridges were raised, the two cannons were loaded with grape, and the château was transformed into a fortress. all this was done with such rapidity, that when the circassians came to the banks of the river, they found the village in a perfect state of defence. they attempted, however, to swim their horses over the kouma, but were repulsed by a brisk fire. three or four other attempts were equally unsuccessful; all points were so well guarded, and the men did their duty so well, that the circassians were obliged to retreat at break of day. but enraged at their disappointment, they set fire to the village and the surrounding woods, and escaped unmolested, under cover of the conflagration, without its being discovered what direction they took. as an economist and administrator, m. rebrof may be compared with the most eminent men of europe, and his manufacturing enterprises are the more meritorious, as he is destitute of the aid of books. knowing only his own language, which is very poor in such practical works as would suit his purposes, he has nothing but a few bad translations of french and german works, which would be of little avail but for his own superior sagacity. his gardens are filled with all the fruits of europe, and with several kinds of grapes, from which he derives a large profit. among these i particularly noticed the schiras grape, which has no stones. nor must i forget his excellent _oeil de perdrix_ wine, which he set before us every day after dinner, with the pride of a manufacturer. nothing could exceed his satisfaction on hearing us compare it with the best vintages of france, as we did in all sincerity on our first arrival. afterwards our enthusiasm cooled down a little; but it did not matter; our host was still persuaded that his wine could compete with the best made in champagne. it was painful to us to quit vladimirofka. had the season been less advanced, we would willingly have remained there another week; but we had still to visit the caucasus, and september was drawing to a close. we had, therefore, to make haste and profit by the fine weather that still remained for us. m. rebrof's horses conveyed us to bourgon madjar, a property belonging to general skaginsky. it is situated on the kouma, about thirty versts from vladimirofka, like which, it possesses fine woods and beautiful scenery. it was our intention only to change horses there, but the steward, who had been expecting us for two days, determined otherwise, and to please him we were constrained to lose two days in his company. our complaisance would not have extended so far had our choice been free; but the moment we entered his doors he told us very positively we should have no horses until the day after the morrow. it was to no purpose we raved and entreated; we were forced to submit to a tyranny that was more flattering than agreeable. the difficulty of understanding each other without an interpreter added to our embarrassment and ill-humour. the whole conversation on the first day was made up of two words _mozhna_ (you can stay), and _nilza_ (it is impossible). but setting aside the loss of two days, which were then very precious, i must allow that our time passed agreeably, and our host did his best to entertain us. the first day was spent in seeing the buildings, gardens, vineyards, mills, and all that was under the immediate management of the steward. every thing was in as excellent order as if the whole of the fine property had been constantly under the master's eye. but general skaginsky hardly ever visits it, contenting himself with the receipt of the proceeds, which amount to about , rubles. the stable contains some capital saddle horses, that tempted us to make a long excursion through the forest. we also saw antelopes almost tame, and of exquisite beauty. whole herds of them are sometimes found in this part of the steppes. the woods adjacent to the kouma also contain deer and wild boars. the steward pressed hard for one day more that he might get up a hunt for us, but we would not hear of it, and answered with so peremptory a _nilza_ that he was obliged to submit to what he called our obstinacy. his anxiety to retain us may be easily accounted for by the extreme loneliness in which he lives. he is a pole by birth, and has known a different condition from that of a steward, as his tastes prove. he is a poet, a musician, and a wit--three qualities singularly at variance with his calling. but as he is alone, and has no superior to control his tastes, he may meditate, virgil in hand, on the charms of rural life. a guitar, a few select books, and the visitations of the muse, enable him to nourish an intellectual existence amidst all his prosaic occupations. after quitting bourgon madjar we passed through the place where formerly stood the celebrated madjar, whose past is still a problem for historians. nothing remains of it, not even a few bricks to attest its former existence. the russians have carried it away piecemeal to build their villages. we now rapidly approached the caucasus; the elbrouz (the highest mountain of the chain) from time to time gave us a glimpse of its majestic head, almost always wrapped in mist, as if to conceal it from profane eyes. tradition informs us that noah's dove alighted on its summit, and there plucked the mystic branch which afterwards became the christian symbol of peace and hope. hence the mountain is held in high veneration by all the races of the caucasus: christians, idolaters, and mussulmans, all agree in regarding it as holy. we were now in an enchanted region, though but just beyond the verge of the steppes. the faint lines discernible in the sky assumed gradually more distinct form and colour; the mountains appeared to us first as light, transparent vapours, floating upon the wind; but by degrees this airy phantasmagoria changed into mountains clothed with forests, deep gorges and domes crowned with mists. we met several horsemen in the circassian garb, whose manly beauty afforded us examples of the noble caucasian race. our minds were almost overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions, excited by the exuberant nature before us, the magnificent vegetation, and the varied hues of the forests and mountains, peaks, crags, ravines, and snowy summits. it was beautiful, superbly beautiful, and then it was the caucasus! the caucasus, a name associated with so many grand historic memories, with the earliest traditions and most fabulous creeds; the abode, in the morning of the world, of families whence issued so many great nations. round it hangs all the vague poetry of the ages visible only to the imagination, through the mysterious veil of antiquity. what a sad thing it was in the midst of all our ecstatic enthusiasm, to be obliged to descend to the vulgar concerns of locomotion, and to be crossed and thwarted at every step. we were more than ten versts from georgief, when we were stopped in a village by the perversity of a postmaster, who refused to let us have horses at any price. it was raining in torrents, and the mud in the village was like a quagmire. the cossack and anthony ran about among all the peasants, trying to prevail on them to hire us horses; but the russians are so lazy that they would rather lose an opportunity of earning money than quit their sweet repose. at last, after four hours search, the two men came back with three wretched hacks they had carried off by force from different peasants. for want of a roof to shelter us we had been obliged to sit all that while in the britchka, and when the miserable team was yoked it could hardly draw us out of the mud in which the wheels were embedded. the road all the way to georgief was the most detestable that could be imagined. the weather cleared up a little, but the rain had converted all the low plains through which we had to pass into marshes, and had rendered the bridges all but impassable. steep and very narrow descents often obliged us to alight at the risk of leaving our boots in the mud, and for a long while we feared we should not reach georgief that day. finally, however, by dint of flogging, our coachman forced the horses up the last hill, and at seven in the evening we reached a wide plateau, at one end of which towered the fortress that commands the road to the caucasus. we had been told that we should find a fair going on in georgief, and this accounted for the number of horsemen we saw proceeding like ourselves in that direction. i must confess in all humility, that i did not feel quite at my ease whenever one of these groups passed close to our carriage. the bad weather, the darkness, the bold bearing of these mountaineers, and their arms half concealed under their black bourkas, made me rather nervous. we arrived, however, safe and sound in georgief, where we enjoyed our repose and sipped our tea with a zest known only to way-worn travellers. whilst we were thus enjoying ourselves, the tinkling of a pereclatnoi bell in the yard announced a fresh arrival. but we gave ourselves very little concern about the event, for in order to be the more at our ease, we had engaged the travellers' room for ourselves alone. in travelling, people grow selfish, in spite of themselves; and in russia it is a very lucky chance indeed that enables you now and then to display that quality. we therefore paid no heed to the tinklings that seemed with increasing vehemence to demand shelter for the late coming pilgrim. in a few moments there was a loud hubbub at our door, and we heard anthony's voice stoutly refusing admission into our sanctuary. the postmaster seemed to play but a negative part, venturing only to say now and then, in the humblest tone, "_ne mozhna polkovnick_" (it is not possible, colonel). a deluge of _douraks_, and a few fisticuffs distributed right and left, put an end to the discussion; the door was flung open, and a tall individual, muffled up to the nose, rushed in furiously, halted suddenly, made an awkward bow, and skipped out of the room again, without attempting even to profit by his victory. amazed at this sudden retreat, anthony hastily closed the door he had so bravely defended, and then told us that this officer had refused to listen to a word of explanation, and had threatened, if they provoked him, to turn us all into the street, and take our places. this did not in the least surprise us, for in russia it is a matter of course for a colonel to behave thus to his inferiors, and as this officer was not aware of our being foreigners, he had behaved in the usual peremptory fashion; but he had been taken aback on discovering that we were something else than village pometchiks, and his tone became changed accordingly in the comical manner aforesaid. we were highly diverted by his discomfiture, and to punish his blustering, we let him go and seek a lodging elsewhere. he had not been gone half an hour when another officer drove into the yard, and with more moderation than his predecessor, took up his quarters in the kitchen, which was divided by a thin partition from our room. he was no sooner installed, than the silence was again broken by loud cracks of a whip, and the poor postmaster was at his wits' end. we paid no attention to this incident until our curiosity was excited by hearing some words of french, accompanied by peals of laughter; and on listening we heard the whole of our late adventure narrated in the most amusing manner, the story being interspersed with keen remarks on the unaccountable propensity of some women for travelling, and filling up every hotel. of course we recognised in the orator the hero of the adventure himself. having knocked in vain at all the doors in georgief, he found he could do no better than return to the confounded station, and take his chance of sleeping in the stable; but hearing that a comrade had taken up his abode in the kitchen, he had determined to beg leave to join him. all this, be it observed, was said in french, to prevent our understanding it; this was amusing enough; but the conversation soon became so confidential, that we were obliged to raise our voices, as a hint to our neighbours to speak russian. they did nothing all night but smoke, drink tea, and talk. next day, having ascertained that we were french, they sent the postmaster to us, begging we would allow them to come and apologise for the inconvenience they had caused us. we found them well-bred gentlemen, and we had a good laugh together at the strange manner in which our mutual acquaintance had taken place. we all left the station nearly together. after breakfasting with us, they set out, one of them for persia, the other for the north. for ourselves, as we intended to stop some days in georgief, until the roads should have become drier, we accepted the invitation of the governor of the fortress to reside with him. the mud was so deep in the yard of the post-house, that we were obliged to have a bridge of planks made for us to the carriage, and the grooms and the persons who had occasion to enter the house, had to cross the yard on horseback. in passing through the street we saw an unfortunate peasant sunk up to his middle, and making prodigious efforts to extricate his cart and oxen. our hospitable and obliging entertainer, the general, told us many particulars respecting the tribes of the caucasus, and we saw at his table a great number of kabardian chiefs whom the fair had brought to georgief. there was one among them whose handsome, grave features, and somewhat wild appearance, excited our curiosity; and the general perceiving this, told us all he knew about the man. i will relate the story as nearly as possible in his own words. "about two years ago i was ordered to make a tour of inspection among the friendly tribes of the caucasus, and had nearly completed it, when arriving one evening near an aoul situated on a mountain, the summit of which you can see from here, i noticed that the village was in great commotion. being accompanied by a detachment of cossacks, i had no need to be apprehensive about the result, happen what might; still i thought it advisable to take some precautions, and settled with the commanding officer of the detachment what was to be done if we were attacked. i then got on a few hundred paces ahead of the party, and advanced softly, like an _éclaireur_, to a place where the whole population was assembled. as it was rather dark, and i was covered with a bourka, no one took any notice of me, and i was allowed to make my observations without impediment. "when my eyes had grown more familiarised with the objects about me, i perceived that the crowd was gathered round the ruins of a house that seemed to have been very recently burned down. though ignorant of what had happened, i felt certain that the burning was connected with some deed of violence and bloodshed, for i had long known these mountaineers, whose violent passions are kept in constant excitement by the false position in which they are placed both as to the russians, whom they detest while they submit to their power, and with regard to the free tribes, who cannot forgive them for their compulsory submission. on inspecting the various groups more narrowly, i saw a kabardian lying on the ground, with his cloak drawn over his face, while every one gazed on him with a respectful pity. puzzled still more to know what this meant, and not seeing any reason why i might not make myself known, i was about to put some questions to the person next me, when the sound of approaching hoofs called off the attention of the crowd in another direction. it was my party, who had become uneasy about me, and had quickened their march. the mountaineers all clustered round my soldiers, but without any such hostile demonstrations as we had encountered in the other aouls. every body seemed under the influence of some unusual feeling, that made him forget for the while the hatred which the mere sight of a cossack awakens among these people. "i issued the necessary orders for the encampment of my party, and when all was made safe for the night, i returned to the spot where my curiosity had been so strongly excited; and there lay the mountaineer still stretched on the ground, looking like a corpse under the black bourka that covered him. several women sat round him, and one of them, who was very young, and seemed less distressed than the others, at last satisfied my impatience, and told me a tale which was confirmed by the whole population of the village. "the person i saw stretched on the ground before the ashes of his own house, was the chief of the aoul, and belonged to a princely family, living independently amidst their own mountains. at the age of twenty he unfortunately became his elder brother's rival, and in order to possess the wife of his choice, he had carried her off, and settled under the protection of russia. this latter act, the most infamous of which a mountaineer can be guilty when he commits it of his own accord, remained a long while unpunished during the wars between russia and the tribes. for fifteen years nothing occurred to make the refugee suppose that his brother thought of him at all. the wife had died a few years after the elopement, leaving him a daughter, who grew up so beautiful, that the whole tribe called her the rose of the mountain. "now on the day before my arrival in the aoul, four independent mountaineers had visited the chief as friends, and told him that his brother was dead, and that he might now return home without any fear of danger. the strangers spent the night under his roof, and did all they could to persuade him to accompany them; but next day, finding they could make no impression on his mind, they set fire to his house, stabbed him in several places, and seizing his daughter, galloped away before any one was prepared to pursue them. most of the inhabitants were a-field at the time, and when i came up at dusk it was too late to think of overtaking the assassins. although i was assured that the man was dead, i had him carried to a house, where every possible care was bestowed upon him. in about an hour he became conscious, and there appeared some hope of saving him. our acquaintance, which began in so dramatic a manner, afterwards became as intimate as it could be between a russian general and a caucasian chief. "but for a long while my influence over the mind of the unfortunate father was totally unable to overcome the despair and thirst of vengeance occasioned by the abduction of his daughter. at the head of the most determined men of his aoul and of some cossacks, he thrice endeavoured to force his way into that part of the mountain where his kindred resided; but these attempts led to nothing but desperate conflicts and fierce reprisals. he was about making a fourth attempt about two months ago, when we were informed by a spy that the rose of the mountain had been sent to trebisond, to become the ornament of some harem in constantinople. "from that time a gradual change took place in the savage temper of the kabardian; the idea that his daughter was no longer in the hated mountains, was balm to his wounds. he attached himself to the society of the officers of the garrison, who had become warmly interested in his history. at his own request i have solicited an appointment for him in his majesty's imperial guard, and i hope he will soon be far away from scenes that remind him of such terrible disasters." chapter xxix. road from georgief to the waters of the caucasus--a polish lady carried off by circassians--piatigorsk--kislovodsk-- history of the mineral waters of the caucasus. from georgief we set out for piatigorsk, the chief watering place of the caucasus, and travelled for three hours over a dreary plain, with nothing for the eye to rest on but here and there a long conical mound, that scarcely broke the dull monotony of the landscape; and even these were scarcely visible through the foggy atmosphere. we felt, therefore, a depression of spirits we had never known in our previous journeyings, and it was still more increased by the thought that we might fall in with those circassians whose very name strikes terror into the russians. the two cossacks whom the commandant of georgief had given us for escort, were not the sort of men to assuage our fears, for they seemed themselves very much possessed with a sense of the dangers we were incurring. their visages grew very serious indeed when we had left the plain behind us, and the road began to skirt along a deep valley, with the waters of the pod kouma brawling at the bottom. they were constantly peering in every direction, as if they expected every moment to fall into an ambuscade. presently they stopped, and called our dragoman to show him a spot on which their eyes seemed riveted. one of them began to talk with great volubility, and from his expressive gestures it was evident he was relating some tragic event of which that spot had been witness. and so, indeed, it was. anthony informed us that on the very spot where we stood, a young polish lady had been assailed the year before by several mountaineers, who lay in wait for her in the bed of the torrent. she was on her way to the waters of kislovodsk, accompanied by an escort and two or three servants. her followers were massacred or dispersed, her carriage was rifled, and she herself was carried off and never heard of again, notwithstanding the most active exertions to ascertain her fate. one of the cossacks, who had escaped by miracle from the balls of the circassians, galloped off to georgief, and returned within a few hours to the scene of the catastrophe, accompanied by a detachment of cavalry. they found the carriage broken to pieces, and plundered of all its contents; and the ground was strewed with bodies horribly mutilated and stripped of their arms, but neither the body of the young lady nor that of her waiting-maid was among them. it is to be presumed that the circassians carried them off to their aoul, as the richest spoils of their bloody expedition. the story of this recent tragedy, related on the very spot where it had occurred, made no slight impression upon us; my dismay, therefore, may be imagined, when a sudden clearing up of the fog enabled us to distinguish at a distance of a hundred yards from the road, what seemed but too palpable a realisation of my fearful fancies. there was no room for doubt. the men before us were those terrible circassians i had trembled at the thought of meeting. the scream that escaped me, when i caught sight of them, was fortunately heard by one of our cossacks, who immediately relieved my mind by the assurance that these were men of a friendly tribe. nevertheless, in spite of my conviction that we had no hostilities to apprehend, it was not without some secret uneasiness i saw them defile past us. the troop was a small one, five or six at most, yet they looked dangerous enough. i shall never forget the glances they cast on our cossacks as they rode by, though it was only in looks they manifested the hatred that rankled in their hearts against every thing belonging to russia. they were all fully armed. their pistols and their damasked poniards glittered from beneath their black bourkas. i confess i was best pleased with their appearance when they were just vanishing from sight on the top of a hill, where their martial figures were relieved against the sky. seen through the mist, they set me thinking of ossian's heroes. we continued to wind our way slowly up a steep and narrow track, and for half an hour we did not see a cabin or a living creature except some vultures of the largest kind, flying silently above our heads. at last we reached the culminating point of the road, whence we could look down on the valley, piatigorsk, the villas scattered over the heights, and all the details of a delightful landscape, that seemed as if it had dropped by chance amongst the stern and majestic scenes of the caucasian alps. from thence we had a gentle descent of about a verst to the outskirts of piatigorsk. it is only within the last ten or twelve years that it has been possible to travel in carriages to piatigorsk without extreme risk, partly on account of the hostility of the circassians, and partly in consequence of the state of the roads. the latter have been improved, and a great number of military posts have been established on them, so that now the waters of the caucasus are annually frequented by more than persons, who visit them from all parts of the empire for health or pleasure. catastrophes have become more and more rare, and since that which i have mentioned no other event of the kind has occurred. on arriving at piatigorsk we took up our abode with the principal doctor, for whom we had letters, and who received us in the most obliging manner. unluckily we had abominable weather during the whole time of our stay, and the mountains we had come so far to see were hidden from our eyes by an impenetrable veil of mist. we could just discern from our windows the base of the bechtau, at a distance of but two versts. our first visit was to the alexandra spring, so called after the name of the empress. the waters are sulphurous, and their temperature is above degrees reaumur. the bathing establishment is on a very large scale, and contains every thing requisite for the frequenters of the waters. other thermal springs are found on most of the heights about piatigorsk, and the works that have been constructed to afford access to them do credit to the government. on one of the highest peaks there is an octagonal building, consisting of a cupola supported on light columns, which are surrounded at their base by an elegant balustrade. the interior, which is open to all the winds, contains an æolian harp, the melancholy notes of which descend to the valley, mingled with all the echoes of the mountains. doctor conrad, our host, was the author of this pretty design. being like most germans passionately fond of music, he felt assured that those airy sounds, coming as it were from the sky, would have a most salutary influence on the minds of his patients. the little temple, surnamed the pavilion of Æolus, must be a favourite spot for those who are fond of reverie and lonely contemplation of the sublime scenes of nature. the view from it is of great beauty, but in order to judge of it we should have been more favoured by the weather; but the glowing description given us by our good doctor made some amends for our mischance. i must own, too, that the trouble we took in ascending was not altogether unrequited, for the vague and mysterious outlines of mountains and forests clothed in mists were not without their charms. there are several natural and artificial grottoes in various parts of the mountain, affording cool retreats in the sultry season, and an amusing spectacle to those who sit and watch the company proceeding to and from the baths. the physiognomist may there behold the most varied types of features, from those of the tatar prince of the crimea to those of the fair georgian from tiflis. society in russia has one rare advantage, inasmuch as it is free from that fatiguing monotony which pursues us in almost all european countries. the handsomest quarter of piatigorsk is at the bottom of the valley, where there is a promenade, with fine trees and seats, flanked on either side by a line of handsome houses backed against the cliffs. the permanent population consists only of the civil servants of the government, the garrison, and a few incurable invalids. the crown buildings are numerous, including, besides the bathing establishment, a greek church, a very large hotel for strangers, a concert hall, a charitable institution, a hospital for wounded officers from the caucasus, barracks, &c. on the whole, piatigorsk is not so much a town as a delightful assemblage of country-houses, inhabited for some months of the year by a rich aristocracy. every thing about it is pretty and trim, and displays those tokens of affluence which the russian nobles like to see around them. there is nothing there to offend the eye or sadden the heart, no poor class, no cabins, no misery. it is a fortunate spot, intended to exhibit to the ladies and princes, courtiers, and generals of the empire, none but pleasing images, culled from all that is attractive in nature and art. what wonder, then, if the annals of the place abound in marvellous cures! the doctor, who is a shrewd man, having perhaps his doubts of the sole efficacy of the waters, has done his part to render piatigorsk an earthly paradise; but it must be admitted that his views have been perfectly understood and promoted by the emperor, who is always disposed to display magnificence in the most superficial things. luxurious refinement has here been pushed so far, that the fair and exceedingly indolent dames of moscow and st. petersburg may repair to their baths without alighting from their stylish equipages; and yet the springs are almost all of them several hundred yards above the valley. what peasants' _corvées_, what an amount of toil and suffering do these commodious roads represent! none but the russian government is capable of such acts of gallantry! though the watering season was over when we arrived, the doctor had still a few patients residing with him, who added much, to the pleasure of our evening meetings. among these was a young officer, who had returned with two severe wounds from an expedition against the circassians. the accounts he gave us of his campaign, and of the terrible episodes he had witnessed, often made us shudder. the russians paid dearly for the conquest of some burnt villages. they lost half their men, and officers. one of the friends of our invalid picked up a pretty little circassian girl, whose mother had been killed before his eyes. pitying the fate of the poor orphan, the officer carried her away on his horse, and on reaching piatigorsk, he placed her in a boarding-school kept by some french ladies. we went to see her, and were charmed with her beauty, which promised to sustain her country's reputation in that respect. as the weather was not favourable to long excursions, we passed a week of quiet social enjoyment in the doctor's house; but one fine morning the sun, which we had completely forgotten, broke out through the fog, and recalled us, perhaps against our will, to our adventurous habits. next day we set out for kislovodsk, situated forty versts from piatigorsk, in the interior of the mountains, and possessing acid waters of great reputation. the road, on quitting piatigorsk, passes at first along the wide and deep valley of the pod kouma, which is bounded on the right by rocks heaped on each other like petrified waves, and presenting, in their outlines and rents, all the tokens of a _bouleversement_; whilst on the left, beautiful wooded mountains ascend in successive stages to the imposing chain of the kasbeck. at the distance of about two hours' travelling, the road leaves the valley, which has here become very narrow, and runs on a long sinuous level ledge, parallel with the course of the torrent, up to the point where it begins to enter the mountains, and where the miry soil through which our horses laboured with great difficulty, the grey sky and moist atmosphere that had hitherto accompanied us, were at once exchanged for dryness, cold, dust, and sun. this sudden contrast is a phenomenon peculiar to elevated regions, and had been foretold us by our host, who is very learned in all that concerns the atmospheric variations of his beloved mountains. nothing i have before attempted to describe could compare with the wild and picturesque scenery of this part of the caucasus. at certain intervals we saw conical mounds of earth about sixty feet high, serving as watch-towers, on which sentinels are stationed day and night. their outlines, relieved against the cloudy sky, produces a singular effect amidst the solitude around them. the sight of these cossacks, with muskets shouldered, pacing up and down the small platform on the summit of each eminence, made us involuntarily own our gratitude to the russian government for having cleared this country, and rendered access to it so easy for invalids and tourists. although it was the middle of october, the vegetation was still quite fresh. rich green swards covering the steep slopes of the mountains, afforded abundant pasture for the scattered flocks of goats. their keepers, dressed in sheep-skins, and, instead of crooks, carrying long guns slung at their backs, and two or three powder and ball cases at their girdles, gave a half martial, half pastoral complexion to the landscape. gigantic eagles flew majestically from rock to rock, like the sole sovereigns of those solitary places. here we had really before us what we had dreamed of in the caspian steppes, when, with eyes scorched by the hot sand, and with no amusement but the sight of our camels and the sound of their cries, or the encounter of some kalmuck kibitkas, we tried to beguile the discomforts of our situation by peopling the desert with a thousand fascinating images. before we reached the gorge in which kislovodsk is concealed, we fell in with a second party of circassians; but fortified by the safety with which we had pursued our journey so far, and by our stay in piatigorsk, i indulged without apprehension in the pleasure of admiring them. there were eight or ten of them reposing under a projecting rock, and a very picturesque group they formed. their horses, saddled and bridled, were feeding at a little distance from their masters, who had not disencumbered themselves of their weapons. some had their heads entirely enveloped in _bashliks_, a sort of hood made of camels' hair, which is worn only in travelling; others wore the national fur cap; their garments, of a graceful and commodious form, glittered with broad silver lace; they all had bourkas, a kind of mantle, indispensable to the circassian as his weapons. when our carriage approached them, some of them sat up and looked at us with an air of scornful indifference, but showed no disposition to molest us. our first business on reaching kislovodsk was to visit the source of the acid waters, to which the place owes its celebrity. it does not break out like most others from the side of a mountain, or from a cleft in a rock, but at the bottom of a valley. nature, who usually conceals her treasures in the most inaccessible spots, has made an exception in its favour. a square basin has been constructed for it, and there it seems continually boiling up, though it has no heat. it resembles seltzer-water in its sparkling and its slightly acid taste. kislovodsk consists of about fifteen houses, or rather little asiatic palaces, adorned with long open galleries, terraces, gardens, and vestibules filled with flowers. all the frequenters of piatigorsk finish the watering season at kislovodsk. behind this aristocratic abode extends a narrow gorge, bounded on all sides by vertical mountain crags that seem to cut it off from the whole world. it would require several days to explore all the charming scenes in the neighbourhood. among its natural curiosities is a celebrated cascade hidden in the very heart of the valley. the way to it leads for an hour along the bed its waters have hollowed for themselves through a thick limestone stratum, over a winding path that narrows continually up to the foot of the fall. at that spot you are imprisoned between cliffs so steep that no goat could find footing on them, and you have before you a dazzling sheet of water descending by terraces from a height of more than sixty feet, breaking into snowy foam where it meets with obstacles on its way, and disappearing for a moment under fragments of rocks, beyond which it re-appears as a limpid stream, flowing over a bed of moss and pebbles. the position of kislovodsk exposes it much more that piatigorsk to the assaults of the mountaineers, and one never feels quite safe there, notwithstanding the cossack detachment that guards the heights. a circassian aoul, perched like an eyrie on the highest crest of the adjacent mountains, is a dangerous neighbour for the water drinkers. its inhabitants, though nominally subdued, forego no opportunity of wreaking their hatred on the russians. after our return to the doctor's roof, we went to see the german colony of karas at the foot of the bechtau. its thriving condition does honour both to the colonists and to the government whose protection they have sought. at first it was composed only of scotchmen, and was founded by one peterson, a zealous sectarian, whose chief object was the conversion of the circassians. but his preaching was wholly ineffectual, and by degrees the laborious germans took the place of the scotch missionaries. the original intention of the establishments is now scarcely remembered: the colonists are simply agriculturists, and think only of enriching themselves at the cost of the strangers who come to drink the mineral waters. a short sketch of the history of these waters may not be unacceptable to the reader. it was in the reign of catherine ii., that russia advanced her frontiers to the kouban and the terek, and forced the various tribes established near those rivers to retire into the mountains. in , potemkin invaded what at present forms the territory of piatigorsk, and advanced to the pod kouma at the foot of the bechtau. the fortress of constantinogorsk was erected at that period, and catherine constrained the neighbouring tribes to acknowledge her sovereignty. but this pacification of the country was hollow and fallacious. the chiefs of the bechtau had submitted but in outward appearance; they kept up a secret understanding with the inhabitants of kabarda, and often joined in their marauding expeditions against the common enemy. hence arose continual conflicts between them and the russians. general marcof took command of the caucasus in , and adopted the most rigorous measures against the petty tribes of the bechtau. their country was invaded by a numerous army and given up to pillage, and the mountaineers, driven from their villages, were obliged to seek refuge beyond the kouban and the terek. thenceforth there was more quiet on the line of the caucasus, and the kabardians were less frequently seen in the vicinity of piatigorsk. it was about this time the sulphurous waters were discovered by some soldiers of the th regiment of chasseurs in garrison at constantinogorsk. it appears, however, that they had been long known and used by the people of the country, as proved by some old baths hollowed out of the rock. the discovery made by the soldiers was quickly turned to account by their officers, and a small house was erected near by the principal spring at the cost of the regiment. the sulphurous waters were soon known in the neighbourhood, and their fame was spread all over the empire through the medium of military intercourse. several persons of distinction repaired to them in , at which time medical advice was given by the regimental surgeons, and the patients resided in tents given up for their use by the officers and soldiers. the number of visitors increased every year up to , and the government repeatedly sent chemists and physicians to the spot to study the composition and therapeutic qualities of the waters. unfortunately in , a contagious disease, which soon proved to be the plague, broke out in a circassian aoul, seven versts from georgief. it spread rapidly through all the adjacent countries, and caused a frightful mortality. the sanatory measures adopted in consequence, put an end to all communication between the caucasus and the russian provinces, and the mineral waters were entirely forsaken even by the inhabitants of the country. such were the ravages of the plague, that in the space of five years little kabarda lost, at least, the twentieth part of its population. the russian government omitted no means that could stay the contagion from crossing its frontiers, and it was not until , that free intercourse with the caucasus was again permitted. multitude of visitors appeared in the following year, the ordinary tents were not sufficient for their accommodation, and it was necessary to make huts for them with branches of trees; several persons even made their abode in their carriages, and under felt and canvass awnings. the want of new wooden bath-rooms was also felt, and several little chambers were erected round the springs. in , the concourse of visitors was so great that the kalmucks of the caspian were ordered to supply them with felt tents. but even these were found insufficient in the following summer, and by this time the profits realised by the soldiers, who let out their quarters, having attracted the attention of some individuals, considerable stone edifices were soon erected. in , the celebrated greek, warvatzi, built new bath-rooms at his own expense, and laid down two roads, one for pedestrians, the other for carriages, both leading to the principal spring. three hundred polish prisoners were placed at his disposal for the execution of these works. thenceforth the place grew up rapidly, and under general yermoloff's administration, nothing was neglected that could render the various edifices as complete and commodious as possible. thus was gradually formed the pretty little town of piatigorsk, which now contains seven principal bathing hotels, and eleven warm sulphurous springs, the temperature of which ranges from thirty to thirty-eight degrees reaumur. the waters of kislovodsk were discovered in , during the war waged by the russians against the kabardians, and in , they were numerously frequented under the protection of the imperial troops. the danger was great, however, for attacks were often made by the enemy, who even made repeated attempts to choke up the spring, or divert the waters. it was not until a fort was built in , that the waters could be visited with some degree of security. the first houses for the reception of invalids were built in ; before that time they resided in tents. a magnificent restaurant was built in , and a handsome alley of lindens was planted from the spring to the cataract, the picturesque appearance of which we so much admired. the ferruginous waters, near the site of the scotch colony, were not made use of until long after the others, in consequence of their remote position, and the woods by which they were surrounded. it was not before , that yermoloff rendered them easy of access, and they began to be regularly frequented by invalids. chapter xxx. situation of the russians as to the caucasus. history of their acquisition of the trans-caucasian provinces--general topography of the caucasus--armed line of the kouban and the terek--blockade of the coasts--character and usages of the mountaineers--anecdote--visit to a circassian prince. among the various asiatic nations which force and diplomacy are striving to subject to the muscovite sceptre, there is one against which the whole might of russia has hitherto been put forth in vain. the warlike tribes of the caucasus have victoriously maintained their national independence; and in thus separating the trans-caucasian provinces from the rest of the empire, they have protected persia and asiatic turkey, and postponed indefinitely all thoughts of a russian invasion of india. the cabinets of europe have generally overlooked the importance of the caucasus, and the part which its tribes are destined to play soon or late in eastern questions. great britain alone, prompted by her commercial instinct and her restless jealousy, protested for a time against the encroaching career of the tzars; but the singular manifestation of the _vixen_ produced no slackening of the operations of russia. the war has now been going on for sixteen years, yet few exact notions of its character and details are as yet possessed by europe. let us endeavour to complete as far as possible what we already know respecting the situation of the russians in the caucasus, and to see what may be the general results, political and commercial, of the occupation or independence of that region. we know that one of peter the great's most cherished schemes, the dream of his whole life, was to re-establish the trade of the east on its old footing, and to secure to himself a port on the black sea, in order to make it the link between the two continents. the genius of that sovereign must surely have been most enterprising to conceive such a project, at a time when its realisation required that the southern frontiers of the empire should first be pushed forward from to leagues, as they have since been. peter began his new political career by the taking of azof and the foundation of the port of taganrok in . the fatal campaign of the pruth retarded the accomplishment of his designs; but when circumstances allowed him to return to them, he began again to pursue them in the direction of persia and the caspian. the restitution of azof, and the destruction of taganrok, stipulated in the treaty of the pruth, thus became the primary cause of the russian expeditions against the trans-caucasian provinces. at this period persia was suffering all the disorders of anarchy. the turks had possessed themselves of all its western provinces up to the foot of the caucasus; whilst the mountaineers, availing themselves of the distracted state of the country, made bloody inroads upon georgia and the adjacent regions. the lesghis, now one of the most formidable tribes of the caucasus, ravaged the plains of shirvan, in , reduced the towns and villages to ashes, and massacred, according to russian writers, merchants, subjects of the empire, in the town of shamaki. these acts of violence afforded peter the great an opportunity which he did not let slip. under the pretence of punishing the lesghis, and protecting the shah of persia against them, he prepared to make an armed intervention in the trans-caucasian provinces. a formidable expedition was fitted out. a flotilla, constructed at casan, arrived at the mouths of the volga, and on the th of may, , the emperor began his march at the head of , infantry, dragoons, and , cossacks and kalmucks. the transports coasted the caspian, whilst the army marched by the daghestan route, the great highway successively followed by the nations of the north and the south in their invasions. thus it was that the russians entered the caucasus, and the valleys of those inaccessible mountains resounded, for the first time, to the war music of the muscovite. the occupation of ghilan and derbent, and the siege of bakou were the chief events of this campaign. turkey, dismayed at the influence russia was about to acquire in the east, was ready to take up arms; but austria, taking the initiative in europe, declared for the policy of the tzar, and vigorously resisted the hostile tendencies of the porte. russia was thus enabled to secure, not only daghestan and ghilan, but also the surrender of those provinces in which her armies had never set foot. in the midst of these events, peter died when on the eve of consolidating his conquests, and before he had completed his negotiations with persia and turkey. his grand commercial ideas were abandoned after his death; the policy of the empire was directed solely towards territorial acquisition, and the tzars only obeyed the strong impulse, that, as if by some decree of fate, urges their subjects towards the south. thenceforth the trans-caucasian provinces were considered only a point gained for intervention in the affairs of persia and turkey, and for ulterior conquests in the direction of central asia. the rise of the celebrated nadir shah, who possessed himself of all the ancient dominions of persia, for a while changed the face of things. russia, crippled in her finances, withdrew her troops, gave up her pretensions to the countries beyond the caucasus, acknowledged the independence of the two kabardas by the treaty of belgrade, and even engaged no longer to keep a fleet on the sea of azof. a religious mission sent to the ossetans, who occupy the celebrated defiles of dariel, was the only event in the reign of elizabeth, that regarded the regions we are considering. hardly any conversions were effected, but the ossetans, to a certain extent, acknowledged the supremacy of russia: this satisfied the real purpose of the mission, for the first stone was thereby laid on the line which was to become the great channel of communication between russia and her asiatic provinces. schemes of conquest in the direction of persia were resumed with vigour under catherine ii., and were carried out with more regularity. the first thing aimed at was to protect the south of the empire against the inroads of the caucasians, and to this end the armed line of the kouban and the terek was organised and finished in . it then numbered sixteen principal forts, and a great number of lesser ones and redoubts. numerous military colonies of cossacks, were next settled on the banks of the two rivers for the protection of the frontiers. while these preparations were in hand, war broke out with turkey. victorious both by sea and land, catherine signed, in , the memorable treaty of koutchouk kainardji, which secured to her the free navigation of the black sea, the passage of the dardanelles, the entry of the dniepr, and, moreover, conceded to her in the caucasus, the sovereignty over both kabardas. peace being thus concluded, catherine's first act was to send a pacific mission to explore the country of the ossetans. the old negotiations were skilfully renewed, and a free passage through the defiles was obtained with the consent of that people. in , an imperial squadron once more appeared in the caspian, and endeavoured, but ineffectually, to make some military settlements on the persian coasts. this expedition limited itself to consolidating the moral influence of russia, and exciting, among the various tribes and nations of those regions, dissensions which afterwards afforded her a pretext for direct intervention. the christian princes of georgia, and the adjacent principalities, were the first to undergo the consequences of the russian policy. seduced by gold and presents, and doubtless also, wearied by the continual troubles that desolated their country, they gradually fell off from persia and turkey and accepted the protection of catherine. the passes of the caucasus were now free to russia; she lost no time in making them practicable for an army, and so she was at last in a condition to realise in part the vast plans of the founder of her power. at a later period, in , russia and turkey were again in arms, and the shore of the caspian became for the first time a centre of military operations. anapa, which the turks had built for the protection of their trade with the mountaineers, after an unsuccessful assault, was taken by storm in . soudjouk kaleh shared the same fate, but the circassians blew up its fortifications before they retired. struck by these conspicuous successes, the several states of europe departed from the favourable policy with which they had previously treated the views of russia, and the empress thought herself fortunate to conclude the treaty of jassy in , by which she advanced her frontiers to the dniestr, and obtained the sovereignties of georgia and the neighbouring countries. but turkey had anapa and soudjouk kaleh restored to her, upon her engaging to suppress the incursions of the tribes dwelling on the left of the kouban. aga mahomed khan marched against georgia in , to punish it for having accepted the protectorate of russia. tiflis was sacked, and given up to fire and sword. on hearing of this bloody invasion catherine ii. immediately declared war against persia, and her armies were already in occupation of bakou, and a large portion of the caspian shores, when she was succeeded by her son paul i., who ordered all the recent conquests to be abandoned. nevertheless, this strange beginning did not hinder the eccentric monarch from doing four years afterwards for georgia what catherine had done for the crimea. under pretext of putting an end to intestine discord, georgia was united to russia by an imperial ukase. shortly after the accession of alexander, mingrelia shared the fate of georgia; the conquests beyond the caucasus were then regularised, and tiflis became the centre of an exclusive muscovite administration, civil and military. the immediate contact of russia with persia soon led to a rupture between these two powers. in , hostilities began with turkey also, and the campaign was marked like that of by the taking of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, and the establishment of the russians on the shores of circassia. the unfortunate contest which then ensued between napoleon and alexander, and the direct intervention of england, put an end to the war, and brought about the signature of two treaties. that of bucharest stipulated the reddition of anapa and soudjouk kaleh; but russia acquired bessarabia and the left bank of the danube; and koutousofs , men marched against napoleon. the treaty of gulistan, in , gave to the empire, among other countries, daghestan, georgia, imeritia, mingrelia, the province of bakou, karabaugh, and shirvan. this latter treaty was no sooner ratified than endless discussions arose respecting the determination of the frontiers. war was renewed, and ended only in by the treaty of turkmantchai, which conceded to russia the fine countries of erivan and naktchivan, advanced her frontiers to the banks of the araxus, and rendered her mistress of all the passes of persia. it was during these latter wars that the people of the caucasus began to be seriously uneasy about the designs of russia. the special protection accorded to the christian populations, the successive downfall of the principal chiefs of the country, and the introduction of the russian administration, with its abuses and arbitrary proceedings, excited violent commotions in the caucasian provinces, and the mountaineers naturally took part in every coalition formed against the common enemy. the armed line of the kouban and the terek was often attacked, and many a cossack post was massacred. the lesghis, the tchetchenzes, and the circassians distinguished themselves especially by their pertinacity and daring. thenceforth russia might conceive some idea of the contest she would have to sustain on the confines of asia. we now approach the period when russia, at last relieved from all her quarrels with persia and turkey, definitively acquired anapa and soudjouk kaleh by the treaty of adrianople, and directed all her efforts against the mountaineers of the caucasus. but as now the war assumed a totally different character, it will be necessary to a full understanding of it that we should first glance at the topography of the country, and sketch the respective positions of the mountaineers and their foes. the chain of the caucasus exhibits a peculiar conformation, altogether different from that of any of the european chains. the alps, the pyrenees, and the carpathians, are accessible only by the valleys, and in these the inhabitants of the country find their subsistence, and agriculture develops its wealth. the contrary is the case in the caucasus. from the fortress of anapa on the black sea, all along to the caspian, the northern slope presents only immense inclined plains, rising in terraces to a height of or yards above the sea level. these plains, rent on all directions by deep and narrow valleys and vertical clefts, often form real steppes, and possess on their loftiest heights rich pastures, where the inhabitants, secure from all attack, find fresh grass for their cattle in the sultriest days of summer. the valleys on the other hand are frightful abysses, the steep sides of which are clothed with brambles, while the bottoms are filled with rapid torrents foaming over beds of rocks and stones. such is the singular spectacle generally presented by the northern slope of the caucasus. this brief description may give an idea of the difficulties to be encountered by an invading army. obliged to occupy the heights, it is incessantly checked in its march by impassable ravines, which do not allow of the employment of cavalry, and for the most part prevent the passage of artillery. the ordinary tactics of the mountaineers is to fall back before the enemy, until the nature of the ground or the want of supplies obliges the latter to begin a retrograde movement. then it is that they attack the invaders, and, entrenched in their forests behind impregnable rocks, they inflict the most terrible carnage on them with little danger to themselves. on the south the character of the caucasian chain is different. from anapa to gagra, along the shores of the black sea, we observe a secondary chain composed of schistous mountains, seldom exceeding yards in height. but the nature of their soil, and of their rocks, would be enough to render them almost impracticable for european armies, even were they not covered with impenetrable forests. the inhabitants of this region, who are called tcherkesses or circassians, by the russians, are entirely independent, and constitute one of the most warlike peoples of the caucasus. the great chain begins in reality at gagra, but the mountains recede from the shore, and nothing is to be seen along the coast as far as mingrelia but secondary hills, commanded by immense crags, that completely cut off all approach to the central part of the caucasus. this region, so feebly defended by its topographical conformation, is abkhasia, the inhabitants of which have been forced to submit to russia. to the north and on the northern slope, westward of the military road from mosdok to tiflis, dwell a considerable number of tribes, some of them ruled by a sort of feudal system, others constituted into little republics. those of the west, dependent on circassia and abadza, are in continual war with the empire, whilst the nogais, who inhabit the plains on the left bank of the kouma, and the tribes of the great kabarda, own the sovereignty of the tzar; but their wavering and dubious submission cannot be relied on. in the centre, at the foot of the elbrouz, dwell the souanethes, an unsubdued people, and near them, occupying both sides of the pass of dariel, are the ingouches and ossetans, exceptional tribes, essentially different from the aboriginal peoples. finally, we have eastward of the great tiflis road, near the terek, little kabarda, and the country of the koumicks, for the present subjugated; and then those indomitable tribes, the lesghis and tchetchenzes, of whom shamihl is the abd el kader, and who extend over the two slopes of the caucasus to the vicinity of the caspian. in reality, the kouban and the terek, that rise from the central chain, and fall, the one into the black sea, the other into the caspian, may be considered as the northern political limits of independent caucasus. it is along those two rivers that russia has formed her armed line, defended by cossacks, and detachments from the regular army. the russians have indeed penetrated those northern frontiers at sundry points, and have planted some forts within the country of the lesghis and tchetchenzes. but these lonely posts, in which a few unhappy garrisons are surrounded on all sides, and generally without a chance of escape, cannot be regarded as a real occupation of the soil on which they stand. they are in fact only so many piquets, whose business is only to watch more closely the movements of the mountaineers. in the south, from anapa to gagra, along the black sea, the imperial possessions are limited to a few detached forts, completely isolated, and deprived of all means of communication by land. a rigorous blockade has been established on this coast; but the circassians, as intrepid in their frail barks as among their mountains, often pass by night through the russian line of vessels, and reach trebisond and constantinople. elsewhere, from mingrelia to the caspian, the frontiers are less precisely defined, and generally run parallel with the great chain of the caucasus. thus limited, the caucasus, including the territory occupied by the subject tribes, presents a surface of scarcely leagues; and it is in this narrow region that a virgin and chivalric nation, amounting at most to , , of souls, proudly upholds its independence against the might of the russian empire, and has for twenty years sustained one of the most obstinate struggles known to modern history. the russian line of the kouban, which is exactly similar to that of the terek, is defended by the cossacks of the black sea, the poor remains of the famous zaporogues, whom catherine ii. subdued with so much difficulty, and whom she colonised at the foot of the caucasus, as a bulwark against the incursions of the mountaineers. the line consists of small forts and watch stations; the latter are merely a kind of sentry box raised on four posts, about fifty feet from the ground. two cossacks keep watch in them day and night. on the least movement of the enemy in the vast plain of reeds that fringes both banks of the river, a beacon fire is kindled on the top of the watch box. if the danger becomes more pressing, an enormous torch of straw and tar is set fire to. the signal is repeated from post to post, the whole line springs to arms, and or men are instantly assembled on the point threatened. these posts, composed generally of a dozen men, are very close to each other, particularly in the most dangerous places. small forts have been erected at intervals with earthworks, and a few pieces of cannon; they contain each from to men. but notwithstanding all the vigilance of the cossacks, often aided by the troops of the line, the mountaineers not unfrequently cross the frontier and carry their incursions, which are always marked with massacre and pillage, into the adjacent provinces. these are bloody but justifiable reprisals. in a body of fifty horsemen entered the country of the cossacks, and proceeded to a distance of leagues, to plunder the german colony of madjar and the important village of vladimirofka, on the kouma, and what is most remarkable, they got back to their mountains without being interrupted. the same year kisliar on the caspian was sacked by the lesghis. these daring expeditions prove of themselves how insufficient is the armed line of the caucasus, and to what dangers that part of southern russia is exposed. the line of forts along the black sea is quite as weak, and the circassians there are quite as daring. they carry off the russian soldiers from beneath the fire of their redoubts, and come up to the very foot of their walls to insult the garrison. at the time i was exploring the mouths of the kouban, a hostile chief had the audacity to appear one day before the gates of anapa. he did all he could to irritate the russians, and abusing them as cowards and woman-hearted, he defied them to single combat. exasperated by his invectives, the commandant ordered that he should be fired on with grape. the horse of the mountaineer reared and threw off his rider, who, without letting go the bridle, instantly mounted again, and, advancing still nearer to the walls, discharged his pistol almost at point blank distance at the soldiers, and galloped off to the mountains. as for the blockade by sea, the imperial squadron is not expert enough to render it really effectual. it is only a few armed boats, manned by cossacks, that give the circassians any serious uneasiness. these cossacks, like those of the black sea, are descended from the zaporogues. previously to the last war with turkey they were settled on the right bank of the danube, where their ancestors had taken refuge after the destruction of their setcha. during the campaigns of - , pains were taken to revive their national feelings, they were brought again by fair means or by force under the imperial sway, and were then settled in the forts along the caucasian shore, the keeping of which was committed to their charge. courageous, enterprising, and worthy rivals of their foes, they wage a most active war against the skiffs of the mountaineers in their boats, which carry crews of fifty or sixty men. the war not having permitted us to visit the independent tribes, and investigate their moral and political condition for ourselves, we shall not enter into long details respecting the manners and institutions of the circassians, but content ourselves with pointing out the principal traits of their character, and such of their peculiarities as may have most influence upon their relations with russians.[ ] of all the peoples of the caucasus, none more fully realise than the circassians those heroic qualities with which imagination delights to invest the tribes of these mountains. courage, intelligence, and remarkable beauty, have been liberally bestowed on them by nature; and what i admired above all in their character is a calm, noble dignity that never forsakes them, and which they unite with the most chivalric feelings and the most ardent passion for national liberty. i remember that during my stay at ekaterinodar, the capital of the cossacks of the black sea, being seated one morning in front of a merchant's house in the company of several russian officers, i saw a very ill-dressed circassian come up, who appeared to belong to the lowest class. he stopped before the shop, and while he was cheapening some articles, we examined his sabre. i saw distinctly on it the latin inscription, _anno domini_, , and the blade appeared to me to be of superior temper; the russians were of a different opinion, for they handed the weapon back to the circassian with disdainful indifference. the circassian took it without uttering a word, cut off a handful of his beard with it at a stroke, as easily as though he had done it with a razor, then quietly mounted his horse and rode away, casting on the officers a look of such deep scorn as no words could describe. the circassians, evermore engaged in war, are in general all well armed. their equipment consists of a rifle, a sabre, a long dagger, which they wear in front, and a pistol stuck in their belt. their remarkably elegant costume consists of tight pantaloons, and a short tunic belted round the waist, and having cartridge pockets worked on the breast; their head-dress is a round laced cap, encircled with a black or white border of long-wooled sheep-skin. in cold or rainy weather, they wear a hood (bashlik), and wrap themselves in an impenetrable felt cloak (bourka). their horses are small, but of astonishing spirit and bottom. it has often been ascertained by the imperial garrisons that circassian marauders have got over twenty-five or even thirty leagues of ground in a night. when pursued by the russians, the mountaineers are not to be stopped by the most rapid torrents. if the horse is young, and not yet trained to this perilous kind of service, the rider gallops him up to the verge of the ravine, then covering the animal's head with his bourka, he plunges, almost always with impunity, down precipices that are sometimes from ten or fifteen yards deep. the circassians are wonderfully expert in the use of fire-arms, and of their double-edged daggers. armed only with the latter weapon, they have been known to leap their horses over the russian bayonets, stab the soldiers, and rout their squared battalions. when they are surrounded in their forts or villages, without any chance of escape, they often sacrifice their wives and children, set fire to their dwellings, and perish in the flames rather than surrender. like all orientals, they do not abandon their dead and wounded except at the last extremity, and nothing can surpass the obstinacy with which they fight to carry them off from the enemy. it was to this fact i owed my escape from one of the greatest dangers i ever encountered. in the month of april, , i explored the military line of the kouban. on my departure from stavropol, the governor strongly insisted on giving me an escort; but i refused it, for fear of encumbering my movements, and resolved to trust to my lucky star. it was the season of flood, too, in the kouban, a period in which the circassians very seldom cross it. i accepted, however, as a guide, an old cossack, who had seen more than five-and-twenty years' fighting, and was all over scars, in short, a genuine descendant of the zaporogues. this man, my interpreter, and a postillion, whom we were to change at each station, formed my whole suite. we were all armed, though there is not much use in such a precaution in a country where one is always attacked either unawares, so that he cannot defend himself, or by superior forces against which all resistance is but a danger the more. but what of that? there was something imposing and flattering to one's pride in these martial accoutrements. a tiflis dagger was stuck in my belt, a heavy rifle thumped against my loins, and my holsters contained an excellent pair of st. etienne pistols. my cossack was armed with two pistols, a rifle, a circassian sabre, and a lance. as for my interpreter, an italian, he was as brave as a calabrian bandit, and what prized above all in him was an imperturbable coolness in the most critical positions, and a blind obedience to my orders. for five days we pursued our way pleasantly along the kouban, without thinking of the danger of our position. the country, broken up by beautiful hills, was covered with rich vegetation. the muddy waters of the kouban flowed on our left, and beyond the river we saw distinctly the first ranges of the caucasus. we could even discern the smoke of the circassian aouls rising up amidst the forests. on the evening of the fifth day we arrived at a little fort, where we passed the night. the weather next morning was cold and rainy, and every thing gave token of an unpleasant day. the country before us was quite unlike that we were leaving behind. the road wound tortuously over an immense plain between marshes and quagmires, that often rendered it all but impossible to advance. our morning ride was therefore a dull and silent one. the cossack had no tales to tell of his warlike feats; he was in bad humour, and never opened his lips except to rap out one of those thundering oaths in which the russians often indulge. a thin rain beat in our faces; our tired horses slid at every step on the greasy clay soil, and we rode in single file, muffled up in our bourkas and bashliks. towards noon, the weather cleared up, the road became less difficult, and towards evening we were but an hour and a half from the last fort on that side of ekaterinodar. we were then proceeding slowly, without any thought of danger, and i paid no heed to the cossack, who had halted some distance behind. but our quick-eared guide had heard the sound of hoofs, and in a few seconds he rode up at full speed, shouting with all his might, "the tcherkesses! the tcherkesses!" looking round we saw four mountaineers coming over a hill not far from the road. my plan was instantly formed. the state of our horses rendered any attempt at flight entirely useless; we were still far from the fortress, and, once overtaken, we could not avoid a fight, the chances of which were all against us. the cossack alone had a sabre, and when once we had discharged our fire-arms, it would be all over with us. but i knew that the circassians never abandoned their dead and wounded, and it was on this i founded our hope of safety. my orders were quickly given, and we continued to advance at a walk, riding abreast, but sufficiently wide apart to leave each man's movements free. not a word was uttered by any of us. i had incurred many dangers in the course of my travels, but i had never been in a situation of more breathless anxiety. in less than ten minutes we distinctly heard the galloping of the mountaineers, and immediately afterwards their balls whizzed past us. my bourka was slightly touched, and the shaft of the cossack's lance was cut in two. the critical moment was come; i gave the word, and we instantly wheeled round, and discharged our pistols at arm's length at our assailants: two of them fell. "away now, and ride for your lives," i shouted, "the circassians will not pursue us." our horses, which had recovered their wind, and were probably inspirited by the smell of powder, carried us along at a sweeping pace, and never stopped until we were within sight of the fortress. exactly what i had foreseen had happened. on the morning after that memorable day the garrison turned out and scoured the country, and i accompanied them to the scene of action. there were copious marks of blood on the sand, and among the sedges on the side of the road we found a shaska, or circassian sabre, which had been dropped no doubt by the enemy. the commanding officer presented it to me, and i have kept it ever since as a remembrance of my perilous interview with the mountaineers. it bears the mark of a ball. it would be difficult to give any precise idea respecting the religious principles of the various nations of the caucasus. the charge of idolatry has been alleged against several of them, but we think without any good grounds. paganism, christianity, and mohammedanism, have by turns found access among them, and the result has been an anomalous medley of no clearly defined doctrines with the most superstitious practices of their early obsolete creeds. the lesghis and the eastern tribes alone are really mohammedans. as for the ossetans, circassians, kabardians, and other western tribes, they seem to profess a pure deism, mingled with some christian and mussulman notions. it is thought that christianity was introduced among these people by the celebrated thamar, queen of georgia, who reigned in the latter part of the twelfth century; but it is much more probable that this was done by the greek colonies of the lower empire, and afterwards by those of the republic of genoa in the crimea. the tcherkesses to this day entertain a profound reverence for the crosses and old churches of their country, to which they make frequent pilgrimages, and yearly offerings and sacrifices. it seems, too, that the greek mythology has left numerous traces in circassia; the story of saturn for instance, that of the titans endeavouring to scale heaven, and several others, are found among many of the tribes. a very marked characteristic of the circassians is a total absence of religious fanaticism. pretenders to divine inspiration have always been repulsed by them, and most of them have paid with their lives for their attempts at proselytism. this is not the case on the caspian side of the mountains, where shamihl's power is in a great measure based on his religious influence over the tribes. when two nations are at war, it usually happens that the one is calumniated by the other, and the stronger seeks an apology for its own ambition in blackening the character of its antagonist. thus the russians, wishing to make the inhabitants of the caucasus appear as savages, against whom every means of extermination is allowable, relate the most absurd tales of the ferocious tortures inflicted by them on their prisoners. but there is no truth in all this. i have often met military men who had been prisoners in the mountains, and they unanimously testified to the good treatment they had received. the circassians deal harshly only with those who resist, or who have made several attempts to escape; but in those cases their measures are fully justified by the fear lest the fugitives should convey important topographical information to the russians. as for the story of the chopped horsehair inserted under the skin of the soles of the feet to hinder the escape of captives, it has been strangely exaggerated by some travellers. i never could hear of more than one prisoner of war who had been thus treated, and this was an army surgeon with whom i had an opportunity of conversing. he had not been previously ill-treated in any way by the mountaineers; but, distracted with the desire for freedom, he had made three attempts to escape, and it was not until the third that the tcherkesses had recourse to the terrible expedient of the horsehair. during our stay at the waters of the caucasus, i saw a young russian woman who had recently been rescued by general grabe's detachment. shortly after our arrival she fled, and returned to the mountains. this fact speaks at least in favour of the gallantry of the circassians. indeed, there is no one in the country but well knows the deep respect they profess for the sex. it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to mention any case in which russian female prisoners have been maltreated by them. the circassians have been accustomed, from time immemorial, to make prisoners of all foreigners who land on their shores without any special warrant or recommendation. this custom has been denounced and censured in every possible way; yet it is not so barbarous as has been supposed. encompassed by enemies, exposed to incessant attacks, and relying for their defence chiefly on the nature of their country, the jealous care of their independence has naturally compelled the mountaineers to become suspicious, and not to allow any traveller to penetrate their retreats. what proves that this prohibitive measure is by no means the result of a savage temper is, that it is enough to pronounce the name of a chief, no matter who, to be welcomed and treated everywhere with unbounded hospitality. reassured by this slender evidence of good faith, the mountaineers lay aside their distrust, and think only how they may do honour to the guest of one of their princes. but another and still graver charge still hangs over the circassians, namely, their slave dealing, which has so often provoked the generous indignation of the philanthropists of europe, and for the abolition of which russia has been extolled by all journalists. we are certainly far from approving of that hateful trade, in which human beings are bought and sold as merchandise; but we are bound in justice to the people of asia to remark, that there is a wide difference between oriental slavery and that which exists in russia, in the french colonies, and in america. in the east, slavery becomes in fact a virtual adoption, which has generally a favourable effect both on the moral and the physical weal of the individual. it is a condition by no means implying any sort of degradation, nor has there ever existed between it and the class of freemen that line of demarcation, beset by pride and prejudice, which is found everywhere else. it would be easy to mention the names of many high dignitaries of turkey who were originally slaves; indeed, it would be difficult to name one young man of the caucasus, sold to the turks, who did not rise to more or less distinction. as for the women, large cargoes of whom still arrive in the bosphorus in spite of the russian blockade, they are far from bewailing their lot; on the contrary, they think themselves very fortunate in being able to set out for constantinople, which offers them a prospect of every thing that can fascinate the imagination of a girl of the east. all this, of course, pre-supposes the absence of those family affections to which we attach so much value; but it must not be forgotten that the tribes of the caucasus cannot be fairly or soundly judged by the standard of our european notions, but that we must make due allowance for their social state, their manners, and traditions. the sale of women in circassia is obviously but a substitute and an equivalent for the indispensable preliminaries that elsewhere precede every marriage in the east; with this difference alone, that in the caucasus, on account of its remoteness, it is an agent who undertakes the pecuniary part of the transaction, and acts as the medium between the girl's relations and him whose lawful wife she is in most cases to become. the parents, it is true, part with their children, and give them up to strangers almost always unknown to them; but they do not abandon them for all that. they keep up a frequent correspondence with them, and the russians never capture a single circassian boat in which there are not men and women going to or returning from constantinople merely to see their children. no one who has been in the caucasus can be ignorant of the fact that all the families, not excepting even those of high rank, esteem it a great honour to have their children placed out in turkey. it is to all these relations and alliances, as i may say, between the circassians and the turks that the latter owe the great moral influence they still exercise over the tribes of the caucasus. the name of turk is always the best recommendation among the mountaineers, and there is no sort of respectful consideration but is evinced towards those who have returned home after passing some years of servitude in turkey. after all, the russians themselves think on this subject precisely as we do, and were it not for potent political considerations, they would not by any means offer impediment to the caucasian slave-trade. this is proved most manifestly by the proposal made by a russian general in , to regulate and ratify this traffic, and carry it on for the benefit of russia, by granting the tzar's subjects the exclusive privilege of purchasing circassian slaves. the scheme was abortive, and could not have been otherwise, for it is a monstrous absurdity to compare russian slavery with that which prevails in constantinople. nothing proves more strongly how different are the real sentiments of the circassians from those imputed to them, than the indignation with which they regard slavery, such as prevails in russia. i will here relate an anecdote which i doubt not will appear strange to many persons; but i can guarantee its authenticity, since the fact occurred under my own eyes. a detachment of mountaineers, destined to form a guard of honour for paskewitch, passed through rostof on the don, in . the sultry season was then at its height, and two of the circassians, going to bathe, laid their clothes in the boat belonging to the custom-house. there was certainly nothing very reprehensible in this; but the _employés_ of the customs thought otherwise, threw the men's clothes into the river, and assaulted them with sticks. immediately there was a tremendous uproar; all the mountaineers flocked to the spot, and threatened to set fire to the town, if the amplest satisfaction were not given to their comrades. the inhabitants were seized with alarm, and the director of the customs went in person to the commander of the circassians, to beseech him not to put his threats in execution; and he backed his entreaties with the offer of a round sum of money for the officer and his men. "money!" retorted the indignant chieftain; "money! it is good for base-souled, venal russians! it is good for you, who sell men, women, and children like vile cattle; but among our people, the honour of a man made in the image of god is not bought and sold. let your men kneel down before my soldiers, and beg their pardon; that is the only reparation we insist on." the chief's demand was complied with, and the peace of the town was immediately restored. the words we have reported are authentic; they prove that the tcherkesses do not look on the sale of their children as a traffic, and that in the actual state of their national civilisation, that sale cannot be in anywise considered as incompatible with family affections, and the sentiments of honour and humanity. the circassian women have been celebrated by so many writers, and their beauty has been made the theme of so many charming descriptions, that we may be allowed to say a few words about them. unfortunately we are constrained to avow, that the reputation of their charms appears to us greatly exaggerated, and that in person they are much less remarkable than the men. it is true we have not been able to visit any of the great centres of the population: we have not been among the independent tribes; but we have been in several aouls on the banks of the kouban, and been entertained in a princely family; but nowhere could we see any of those perfect beauties of whom travellers make such frequent mention. the only thing that really struck us in these mountain girls was the elegance of their shape, and the inimitable grace of their bearing. a circassian woman is never awkward. dressed in rags or in brocade, she never fails to assume spontaneously the most noble and picturesque attitudes. in this respect she is incontestably superior to the highest efforts of fascination which parisian art can achieve. the great celebrity of the women of the caucasus appears to have been derived from the bazaars of constantinople, where the turks, who are great admirers of their charms, still inquire after them with extreme avidity. but as their notions of beauty are quite different from ours, and relate chiefly to plumpness, and the shape of the feet, it is not at all surprising that the opinions of the turks have misled travellers. but though the circassian belles do not completely realise the ideal type dreamed of by europeans, we are far from denying the brilliant qualities with which nature has evidently endowed them. they are engaging, gracious, and affable towards the stranger, and we can well conceive that their charming hospitality has won for them many an ardent admirer. apropos of the conjugal and domestic habits of the circassians; i will describe an excursion i made along the military line of the north, eighteen months after my journey to the caspian sea. during my stay at ekaterinodar, the capital of the country of the black sea cossacks, i heard a great deal about a tcherkess prince, allied to russia, and established on the right bank of the kouban, a dozen versts from the town. i therefore gladly accepted the proposal made to me by the attaman zavadofsky to visit the chief, under the escort of an officer and two soldiers. baron kloch, of whom i have already spoken, accompanied me. we mounted our horses, armed to the teeth, according to the invariable custom of the country, and in three hours we alighted in the middle of the aoul. we were immediately surrounded by a crowd of persons whose looks had nothing in them of welcome; but when they were informed that we were not russians, but foreigners, and that we were come merely to request a few hours' hospitality of their master, their sour looks were changed for an expression of the frankest cordiality, and they hastened to conduct us to the prince's dwelling. it was a miserable thatched mud cabin, in front of which we found the noble tcherkess, lying on a mat, in his shirt, and barefooted. he received us in the kindest manner, and after complimenting us on our arrival, he proceeded to make his toilette. he sent for his most elegant garments and his most stylish leg-gear, girded on his weapons, which he took care to make us admire, and then led us into the cabin, which served as his abode during the day. the interior was as naked and unfurnished as it could well be. a divan covered with reed matting, a few vessels, and a saddle, were the only objects visible. after we had rested a few moments, the prince begged us to pay a visit to his wife and daughter, who had been apprised of our arrival, and were extremely desirous to see us. these ladies occupied a hut of their own, consisting, like the prince's, of but one room. they rose as we entered, and saluted us very gracefully; then motioning us to be seated, the mother sat down in the turkish fashion on her divan, whilst her daughter came and leaned gracefully against the sofa on which we had taken our places. when the ceremony of reception was over, we remarked with surprise that the prince had not crossed the threshold, but merely put his head in at the door to answer our questions and talk with his wife. our cossack officer explained the meaning of this singular conduct, telling us that a circassian husband cannot, without detriment to his honour, enter his wife's apartment during the day. this rule is rigorously observed in all families that make any pretensions to distinction. the princess's apartments had a little more air of comfort than her husband's. we found in it two large divans with silk cushions embroidered with gold and silver, carpets of painted felt, several trunks and a very pretty work-basket. a little russian mirror, and the chief's armorial trophies, formed the ornaments of the walls. but the floor was not boarded, the walls were rough plastered, and two little holes, furnished with shutters, barely served to let a little air into the interior. the princess, who seemed about five-and-thirty or forty, was not fitted to support the reputation of her countrywomen, and we were by no means dazzled by her charms. her dress alone attracted our attention. under a brocaded pelisse with short sleeves, and laced on the seams, she wore a silk chemise, open much lower down than decency could approve. a velvet cap trimmed with silver, smooth plaits of hair, cut heart-shape on the forehead, a white veil fastened on the top of the head, and crossing over the bosom, and lastly, a red shawl thrown carelessly over her lap, completed her toilette. as for her daughter, we thought her charming: she was dressed in a white robe, and a red kazavek confined round the waist; she had delicate features, a dazzlingly fair complexion, and her black hair escaped in a profusion of tresses from beneath her cap. the affability of the two ladies exceeded our expectations. they asked us a multitude of questions about our journey, our country, and our occupations. our european costume interested them exceedingly: our straw hats above all excited their especial wonder. and yet there was something cold and impassive in their whole demeanour. it was not until a long curtain falling by accident shut out the princess from our sight that they condescended to smile. after conversing for a little while, we asked permission of the princess to take her likeness, and to sketch the interior of her dwelling, to which she made no objection. when we had made our drawings, a collation was set before us, consisting of fruits and small cheese-cakes, to which, for my part, i did not do much honour. in the evening we took our leave, and on coming out of the hut, we found all the inhabitants of the aoul assembled, their faces beaming with the most sincere good will, and every man was eager to shake hands with us before our departure. a numerous body volunteered to accompany us, and the prince himself mounted and rode with us half-way to ekaterinodar, where we embraced like old acquaintances. the tcherkess chief turned back to his aoul, and it was not without a feeling of regret that we spurred our horses in the direction of the capital of the black sea cossacks. footnotes: [ ] for fuller details we refer our readers to the travels of m. taitbout de marigny and of the english agent bell, and to the works recently published by mm. fonton and dubois. there exists also another narrative by mr. spencer, which has had the honour of a long analysis in the _revue des deux mondes_; but we know most positively that the honourable gentleman only made a military promenade along the coasts of the black sea, in company with count woronzof, and that he never undertook that perilous excursion into circassia, with which he has filled a whole volume. chapter xxxi. retrospective view of the war in the caucasus--vital importance of the caucasus to russia--designs on india, central asia, bokhara, khiva, &c.--russian and english commerce in persia. the treaty of adrianople was in a manner the opening of a new era in the relations of russia with the mountaineers; for it was by virtue of that treaty that the present tzar, already master of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, pretended to the sovereignty of circassia and of the whole seaboard of the black sea. true to the invariable principles of its foreign policy, the government at first employed means of corruption, and strove to seduce the various chiefs of the country by pensions, decorations, and military appointments. but the mountaineers, who had the example of the persian provinces before their eyes, sternly rejected all the overtures of russia, and repudiated the clauses of the convention of adrianople; the political and commercial independence of their country became their rallying cry, and they would not treat on any other condition. all such ideas were totally at variance with nicholas's schemes of absolute dominion; therefore he had recourse to arms to obtain by force what he had been unable to accomplish by other means. abkhasia, situated on the eastern coast of the black sea, and easily accessible, was the first invaded. a russian force occupied the country in , under the ordinary pretence of supporting one of its princes, and putting an end to anarchy. in the same year general paskevitch, then governor-general of the caucasus, for the first time made an armed exploration of the country of the tcherkesses beyond the kouban; but he effected absolutely nothing, and his expedition only resulted in a great loss of men and stores. in the following year war broke out in daghestan with the lesghis and the tchetchenzes. the celebrated kadi moulah, giving himself out for a prophet, gathered together a considerable number of partisans; but unfortunately for him there was no unanimity among the tribes, and the princes were continually counteracting each other. kadi moulah never was able to bring more than or men together; nevertheless, he maintained the struggle with a courage worthy of a better fate, and russia knows what it cost her to put down the revolt of daghestan. as for any real progress in that part of the caucasus, the russians made none; they did no more than replace things on the old footing. daghestan soon became again more hostile than ever, and the tchetchenzes and lesghis continued in separate detachments to plunder and ravage the adjacent provinces up to the time when the ascendency of the celebrated shamihl, the worthy successor of kadi moulah, gave a fresh impulse to the warlike tribes of the mountain, and rendered them more formidable than ever. after taking possession of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, the russians thought of seizing the whole seaboard of circassia, and especially the various points suitable for the establishment of military posts. they made themselves masters of guelendchik and the important position of gagra, which commands the pass between circassia and abkhasia. the tcherkesses heroically defended their territory, but how could they have withstood the guns of the ships of war that mowed them down whilst the soldiers were landing and constructing their redoubts? the blockade of the coasts was declared in , and all foreign communication with the caucasus ostensibly intercepted. during the four following years russia suffered heavy losses; and all her successes were limited to the establishment of some small isolated forts on the sea-coast. she then increased her army, laid down the military road from the kouban to guelendchik, across the last western offshoot of the caucasus, set on foot an exploration of the enemy's whole coast, and prepared to push the war with renewed vigour. in the emperor nicholas visited the caucasus. he would see for himself the theatre of a war so disastrous for his arms, and try what impression his imperial presence could make on the mountaineers. the chiefs of the country were invited to various conferences, to which they boldly repaired on the faith of the russian parole; but instead of conciliating them by words of peace and moderation, the emperor only exasperated them by his threatening and haughty language. "do you know," said he to them, "that i have powder enough to blow up all your mountains?" during the three following years there was an incessant succession of expeditions. golovin, on the frontiers of georgia, grabe on the north, and racifsky on the circassian seaboard, left nothing untried to accomplish their master's orders. the sacrifices incurred by russia were enormous; the greater part of her fleet was destroyed by a storm, but all efforts failed against the intrepidity and tactics of the mountaineers. some new forts erected under cover of the ships were all that resulted from these disastrous campaigns. i was in the caucasus in , when lieutenant-general grabe returned from his famous expedition against shamihl. when the army marched it had numbered men, of whom, and officers, were cut off in three months. but as the general had advanced further into the country than any of his predecessors, russia sang poeans, and grabe became the hero of the day, although the imperial troops had been forced to retreat and entirely evacuate the country they had invaded. all the other expeditions were similar to this one, and achieved in reality nothing but the burning and destruction of a few villages. it is true the mountaineers are far from being victorious in all their encounters with the russians, whose artillery they cannot easily withstand; but if they are obliged to give way to numbers or to engineering, nevertheless, they remain in the end masters of the ground, and annul all the momentary advantages gained by their enemies. the year was still more fatal to the arms of nicholas. almost all the new forts on the seaboard were taken by the circassians, who bravely attacked and carried the best fortified posts without artillery. the military road from the kouban to guelendchik was intercepted, fort st. nicholas, which commanded it, was stormed and the garrison massacred. never yet had russia endured such heavy blows. the disasters were such that the official journals themselves, after many months' silence, were at last obliged to speak of them, and to try to gloss them over by publishing turgid eulogiums on the heroism of the unfortunate black sea garrisons. the following is the bulletin published in the russian _invalide_ of the th of august, :[ ] "the annals of the russian army present a multitude of glorious deeds of arms and heroic actions, the memory of which will be for ever preserved among posterity. the detached corps of the caucasus has from its special destination more frequent opportunities than the other troops to gather new laurels; but there had not yet been seen in its ranks examples of so brilliant a valour as that recently manifested by the garrisons of several campaigning fortifications erected on the unsubjugated territory of the cossacks of the eastern shores of the black sea. erected with a view to curb the brigandages of those semi-barbarous hordes, and particularly their favourite occupation, the shameful trade in slaves, these fortifications were during the spring of this year the constant objects of their attacks. in hopes to destroy the obstacles raised against them, at a period when by reason of their position, and the insurmountable difficulty of communication, the forts on the seaboard could not receive any aid from without, they united against them all their forces and all their means. and indeed three of these forts fell, but fell with a glory that won for their defenders the admiration and even the respect of their fierce enemies. the valiant efforts of the other garrisons were crowned with better success. they have all withstood the desperate and often-repeated attacks of the mountaineers, and held out unsubdued until it was possible to send them succours. "in this struggle between a handful of russian soldiers and a determined and enterprising enemy, ten and even twenty times their superiors in number, the high deeds of the garrisons of the veliaminof and michael redoubts, and the defence of forts navaguinsky and abinsky, merit particular attention. the first of these redoubts was taken by the mountaineers on the th of last february. at daybreak, taking advantage of the localities, and concealed by the morning mist, their bands, more than strong, approached the entrenchments unperceived, and rushed impetuously to the assault. repeatedly overthrown, they returned each time furiously to the charge, and after a long conflict finally remained masters of the rampart. the garrison, rejecting all proposals to surrender, continued with invincible courage a combat thenceforth without hope, preferring to find in it a glorious death; and all fell with the exception of some invalid soldiers, who were made prisoners by the mountaineers. the latter, in token of respect for the defenders of the redoubt, took home with them some of them whom there still appeared a chance of saving. the garrison of the veliaminof redoubt consisted of men of all ranks. the loss of the mountaineers amounted, in killed alone, to men. "on the morning of the nd of march, the mountaineers, to the number of more than , men, attacked the michael redoubt, the garrison of which counted but men under arms. its brave commander, second-captain lico, of the battalion no. of the cossacks of the frontier line of the black sea, having learned the intentions of the enemy, had made preparations for vigorously resisting his attempts. seeing the impossibility of receiving timely succour, he had nails prepared to spike his cannons, in case the rampart should be carried, and had a _réduit_ constructed in the interior of the redoubt, with planks, tubs, and other suitable materials. then collecting his whole garrison, officers and soldiers, he proposed to them to blow up the powder magazine, if they did not succeed in repulsing the enemy. the proposal was received with an enthusiasm which the subsequent conduct of the garrison proved to be genuine. the mountaineers were received with a most destructive fire by the artillery of the fort, and could not make themselves masters of the rampart until after an hour and half of fighting, in which they suffered considerable loss. the heroic efforts of the garrison having forced them back into the ditch, they took to flight; but the mountain horsemen, who had remained on the watch at a certain distance, fell with their sabres on the fugitives; and the latter, seeing inevitable death on either hand, returned to the assault, drove the garrison from the rampart, and forced it to retire into the _réduit_, after it had set fire to all the stores and provisions of every kind that were in the redoubt. sharp-shooting went on for half an hour; the firing then ceased, and the mountaineers were beginning to congratulate themselves on their victory, when the powder magazine blew up.[ ] the garrison perished in accomplishing this act, memorable in military annals; but with it perished all the mountaineers who were in the redoubt. the details of the defence of the veliaminof and michael redoubts have been divulged by the mountaineers themselves, and by some soldiers who have escaped from slavery among them. the services of the heroes who died thus on the field of honour, have been honoured by his majesty the emperor, in the persons of their families; whose livelihood has been insured, and whose children will be brought up at the expense of the state. these redoubts are now once more occupied by the detachment of troops operating on the eastern coasts of the black sea. "the navaguinsky fort has often been subjected to the attacks of the mountaineers; but they have always been repulsed with the same valour and steadiness. in one of these attacks, the mountaineers, availing themselves of the darkness of night, and the noise of a tempest, approached the fort without being perceived by the sentinels, surrounded it on all sides, sprang suddenly to the assault with ladders and hooks, made themselves masters of part of the rampart, and got into the fort. captain podgoursky, its brave commandant, and lieutenant jacovlev, then advanced against them with a part of the garrison. both were killed on the spot, but their death in no degree checked the ardour of the soldiers, who fell upon the enemy with the bayonet, and drove them into the ditch. the fight was maintained with the same enthusiasm on all the other points of the fortifications, and the invalids themselves voluntarily turned out from the hospital and took part in it. at daybreak, after three hours hard fighting, the fort was cleared of the enemy, who left in it a considerable number of killed and wounded. "on the th of may, the abinsky fort, situated between the kouban and the shore of the black sea, was surrounded at two in the morning by a body of mountaineers , strong, who had assembled in the vicinity, and suddenly assaulted the fort with loud shouts, and discharges from their rifles. the hail of bullets, hand-grenades, and grape-shot with which they were received did not check their ardour. full of temerity and contempt of death, they descended with marvellous promptitude and agility into the ditch, and began to scale the rampart, thus blindly seeking sure destruction. the warriors, clad in coats of mail, penetrated repeatedly into the entrenchment, but were each time killed or driven back. at last, in spite of all the efforts of the garrison, a numerous party found their way into the interior of a bastion, and flung themselves with flags unfurled into the interior of the fort. colonel vecelofsky, the commandant, retaining all his presence of mind at this critical moment, charged the enemy at the bayonet point, with a reserve he had kept, of men, and drove them out of the entrenchment, after capturing two of their flags. this brilliant feat checked the audacity of the assailants, and inflamed the courage of the garrison to the highest pitch. the enemy, beaten on all points, took flight, carrying off their dead, according to the custom of the asiatics. ten of their wounded remained in the hands of the garrison, who found dead in the interior of the fort and in the ditches. the number of those whom the mountaineers carried off to bury at home, was doubtless still more considerable. the loss on our side was nine killed and eighteen wounded. "at the time of the attack, the garrison of the abinsky fort consisted of a superior officer, fifteen officers, and soldiers. the numerical weakness of this force, proves of itself the extraordinary intrepidity of all comprised in it, officers and soldiers, and their unanimous resolution to defend with unswerving firmness the ramparts confided to their courage." it seems to us superfluous to offer any comment on this heroic bulletin. we shall merely observe, that the most serious losses, the destruction of the new road from the kouban, the taking of fort st. nicholas, and that of several other forts, have been entirely forgotten in the official statement, and no facts mentioned, but those which might be interpreted in favour of russia's military glory. on the eastern side of the mountain the war was fully as disastrous for the invaders. the imperial army lost petty officers and soldiers, and twenty-nine officers in the battle of valrik against the tchetchenzes. the military colonies of the terek were attacked and plundered, and when general golovin retired to his winter quarters at the end of the campaign, he had lost more than three-fourths of his men. the great kabarda did not remain an indifferent spectator of the offensive league formed by the tribes of the caucasus; and when russia, suspecting with reason the unfriendly disposition of some tribes, made an armed exploration on the banks of the laba in order to construct redoubts, and thus cut off the subjugated tribes from the others, the general found the country, wherever he advanced, but a desert. all the inhabitants had already retired to the other side of the laba to join their warlike neighbours. since that time fresh defeats have been made known through the press, and in spite of all the mystery in which the war of the caucasus is sought to be wrapt, the truth has, nevertheless, transpired. the last military operations of russia have been as unproductive as those that preceded them, and prove that no change has taken place in the belligerents respectively. thus we see that in despite of the resources of the empire, and of the indomitable obstinacy of the emperor, the position of russia in the caucasus has been quite stationary for sixty years. in considering this long series of disasters and unavailing efforts, we are naturally led to inquire what have been the causes of this want of success? we have already mentioned the topographical character of the country, and the difficulties encountered by an invading army in regions not accessible by the valleys, and we have given such details of the manners and character of the mountaineers as may enable the reader to conceive the obstinate and formidable nature of their resistance. nevertheless, seeing the absolute power of nicholas, and the intense importance he attaches to the conquest of the caucasus, it is difficult to admit that obstacles arising out of the nature of the ground and the character of the population could not have been overcome in a region so limited, if there were not other and more potent causes continually at work to impede the military operations of russia. these causes reside chiefly in the deplorable state and constitution of the imperial armies. in russia there is no distinct commissariat department under disinterested control, whether of the government or of superior officers. it is the colonel himself of each regiment who provides the rations, and as he is subject to no control, but acts really with despotic authority, both he and his contractors have the amplest possible opportunity to cheat the government and enrich themselves at the expense of the troops. there are regiments in the caucasus that bring in from , to , francs to the colonel. as for the subaltern officers, military submission on the one hand, and the scantiness of their pay on the other, make them always ready to participate in their commander's infamous speculations. what is the result of this wretched corruption? it is that, notwithstanding the high prices paid by the government, the contractors continue to send to the caucasus the most unwholesome stores, and grains almost always heated or quite spoiled; for it is only in this way they can realise sufficient profits to be able to satisfy the cupidity of their confederates, the officers. i knew several merchants of theodosia in the crimea, men of honour, who refused to have any thing to do with military supplies, because they found it impossible to make the colonels and generals accept sound articles. this official robbery is nowhere carried on in a more scandalous manner than in the caucasus. it is there regularly established, and one may conjecture the hardships and privations of the soldier from seeing the luxurious tables of the lowest officers, most of whom have but from or rubles yearly pay. certainly there are few sovereigns who take more heed than nicholas to the physical welfare of their soldiers, and we must give full credit to his generous intentions in this respect; but these are completely defeated by the corruption of his officers and civil servants, by the total want of publicity, and by that base servility which will always hinder an inferior from accusing his superior. i have been present at several military inspections made by general officers in the caucasus, but never heard the least complaint made by the soldiers; and when the general, calling them by companies round him in a circle, questioned them respecting their victuals, they all invariably replied in chorus, that they had nothing to complain of, and were as well treated as possible. their colonel's eye was upon them, and they knew what the least word of complaint would have cost them; yet they were dying by hundreds of scurvy, and other diseases engendered by unwholesome food. the government usually makes large purchases of butter in siberia for the army of the caucasus; but this butter which would be of such great utility in the military hospitals, and which costs as much as sixty-five francs the twenty kilogrammes, very seldom passes further than taganrok, where it is sold in retail, and its place supplied with the worst substitute that can be had. nor does the robbery end there. the butter fabricated in taganrok is again made matter of speculation in the caucasus, and finally not a particle reaches the sick and drooping soldiers. the other good provisions undergo nearly the same course. when i was at theodosia in , there were in the military hospital of the town , invalids, who were all dying for want of attendance and good medicine. a courland general (whom i could name) justly incensed at these abuses, sent in a strong report of them directly to the emperor; and twenty days afterwards, a superior officer, despatched by the emperor himself, arrived on the spot. but the people about the hospital were rich; they had taken their measures, and the result of this mission, which looked so threatening at first, was a report extremely satisfactory as to the zeal of the managers and the sanatory condition of the establishment. the general was severely reprimanded, almost disgraced, and the robbers continued to merit official encomiums. i did not hear that they were rewarded by the government. the most frightful mortality prevails among the troops in the caucasus; whole divisions disappear in the space of a few months, and the army is used up and wholly renewed every three or four years. it is especially in the small forts on the seaboard, where the mischiefs of bad food are increased by almost total isolation, that diseases make frightful havoc, particularly scurvy. in the spring of , the twelfth division marched to occupy the redoubts on the coasts of circassia, and its effective number was , men, quite an extraordinary circumstance. four months afterwards it was recalled to take part in the expedition at that time projected against the viceroy of egypt. when it landed at sevastopol it was reduced to men. in the same year the commander-in-chief, in visiting the forts of the seaboard, found but nine men fit for service out of that composed the garrison of soukhoum kaleh. according to official returns, the average deaths on the seaboard of circassia in and , were , in each year. is it to be wondered that with such a military administration, russia makes no progress in the caucasus? what can be expected of armies in which want of all necessaries and total disregard for the lives of men are the order of the day? the divisions and regiments in the caucasus are in a state of permanent disorganisation, and the courage and activity of the troops sink altogether under the influence of the diseases by which they are incessantly mowed down. it needs all the force of discipline, all the stoic self-denial of the soldier, and, above all, the incessant renovation of the garrisons, to hinder the russians from being driven out of all their positions. people often ask with surprise why russia does not take the field with , or even , men at once. we have already given sufficiently circumstantial details on the topography of the caucasus, to enable every one to perceive immediately how difficult it is to employ large armies in regions so inaccessible, and so wonderfully defended by nature. nor, on the other hand, must it be forgotten that the official strength of the army of the caucasus is always at least , men. its real strength, indeed, very seldom exceeds , ; but its proportion to the grand total of the imperial forces, paid as if they were at the full, still remains the same, and it is impossible, under existing circumstances, that the government should augment the number of its troops without most seriously increasing the already embarrassed condition of the finances. another consideration of still greater weight is, that the movements of large armies are attended with extreme difficulty in russia, to a degree unknown in any other country of europe. in all the discussions that are held on the subject of the war in the caucasus, the immense difficulties of the transport of men, military stores, and provisions, have never been taken into account, and people have always reasoned as if the caucasus was situated in the midst of the tzar's dominions. a glance at the map of russia will suffice to show, that those mountains lying on the most southern verge of the empire, are separated by real deserts from the great centres of the russian population, and that to repair to the banks of the kouban from the first governments where troops are recruited, they must traverse more than leagues of country inhabited by cossacks and kalmucks, in which the nature of the soil and of the inhabitants forbids any cantonment of reserves. moreover we must not forget the difficulties of the climate. the fine season barely lasts four months in russia. the roads are impassable for pedestrians in spring and autumn, and during the winter the cold is too severe, the days too short, the snow-storms often too prolonged to allow of putting regiments on the march, not to say sending them to the caucasus across the uncultivated and desert plains that stretch between the sea of azof and the caspian. the route by sea is equally impracticable. no use can be made of the caspian on account of the arid and unproductive steppes that belt it on the russian side. astrakhan, the only town situated on that part of the coast, is obliged to fetch its provisions from a distance of leagues. the black sea is, indeed, more favourably circumstanced; but it only affords communication with the forts on the circassian side; and the mountaineers always wait to make their attacks in the season of rough weather, during which navigation is usually suspended, and it is exceedingly difficult to reinforce and victual the garrisons. the tediousness and difficulty of conveying stores is the same by land. with the exception of the forts of circassia, supplied directly from the ports of odessa, theodosia, and kertch, all the garrisons of the caucasus receive their supplies from the nearly central provinces of the empire. thus the materials destined for the army of the terek and of daghestan arrive first in astrakhan, after a voyage of more than leagues down the volga; and then they are forwarded by sea for the most part to koumskaia, on the mouth of the kouma, where they are taken up by the turcomans on their little ox-carts, impressed for the service, and reach their final destination after fifteen or twenty days' travelling. the mode of proceeding is still more tedious and expensive for the implements and _matériel_ of war which arrive from siberia only once a year, during the spring floods of the volga, the don, and the dniepr. such obstacles render it impossible to augment the forces employed on the caucasus. france is infinitely better circumstanced with regard to algeria. we have nothing to prevent our keeping up strong military stations on the mediterranean shore. we can at any moment command the means of rapidly transporting to africa whatever forces may be required by ordinary or unforeseen circumstances. we will by and by return to the war in algeria, as compared with that which the russians are carrying on in the caucasus. we have yet to speak of another cause of weakness to the russian arms, and one which is the more serious as it operates exclusively on the _moral_ of the soldiers. russia has made the caucasus a place of transportation, a regular botany bay for all the rogues in the empire, and for those who by their acts or their political opinions, have incurred the wrath of the tzar. in reference to this subject, we will mention a fact which may seem hard to believe, but which i attest as an eye-witness. in , the fifteenth division, commanded by lieutenant-general s----, received orders to march to the caucasus. on leaving taganrok, it was about short of its complement, and its deficiency was supplied from the prisons of southern russia. robbers, pickpockets, vagabonds, and soldiers that had been flogged and degraded, were marched into taganrok, and incorporated with the regiments which were about to begin the campaign. these singular recruits were put under the keeping of the soldiers, and each of them, according to his supposed degree of rascality, was guarded by two, three, or four men. surely the _moral_ of the russian troops is sufficiently jeopardised by the social and military institutions of the empire, and it cannot be prudent so deeply to debase the soldier by associating him with thieves and highway robbers, and to change the toilsome wars of the caucasus into a means of punishment, i may say of destruction, for political offenders and real criminals. furthermore, a conflict so prolonged, so disastrous, and that for so many years has been without any tangible result, must inevitably have the worst effect on the minds of troops who are not actuated either by the sense of glory or honour, or by the feeling that they are defending the right. we have visited the caucasus at various times, and never did we meet one officer who was heartily attached to the service in which he was engaged. despondency is universal, and many expeditions against the mountaineers have been marked by a total absence of discipline. the soldiers have often refused to march, and have suffered themselves to be massacred by their officers, rather than advance a foot. the caucasus has also become a place of exile for a great number of poles. after the revolution of , the russian government committed the blunder of sending to the kouban most of the regiments compromised in that ill-fated effort. the result was very easy to foresee; desertion soon began in the ranks of the outlaws, and it is now known beyond a doubt that the tcherkesses have poles among them, who instruct them in the art of war, endeavour to create an artillery for them with the pieces captured from the russians, and labour actively to allay the dissensions between the various tribes. general grabe himself assured me that he had seen in several places fortifications which he recognised as quite modern. he had also in his campaign of remarked a more compact and better concerted resistance on the part of the circassians, and often a remarkable degree of combined action in their attacks. we have not much to say about the military tactics employed by russia in this war; in point of science it presents no very striking features, but on the contrary, cannot but give a very low idea of the merit of the imperial generals. at first it was expected that the conquest would be effected by hemming in the mountaineers with military lines, and gradually encroaching on their territory; but this very costly system seems to me quite impracticable in a country in which the forts are always solitary, and cannot protect each other, or cross their fires. i do not know, however, whether it has been quite given up. attempts were made in to set fire to the forests of the caucasus by means of pitch. three years afterwards it was hoped to effect their destruction by arming the men of the th division with axes; but these strange expedients only produced useless expenditure. i know a general of the highest personal courage, who calls in the aid of natural philosophy to beguile or awe the mountaineers. whenever he receives a visit from chiefs whose fidelity he is inclined to suspect, he sets an electrical machine in play. his visitors feel violent shocks, they know not how, their beards and hair stand on end, and in the bewilderment caused by these mysterious visitations, they sometimes let out an important secret, and betray themselves to their enemy. an officer of engineers told me an anecdote of this same general which is worth recording. a mosque which the russian government had built at its own expense for a tribe of little kabarda was to be inaugurated, and as usual there was a grand military parade in honour of the occasion. when the kabardians had displayed all their address in horsemanship and shooting, the russian general proceeded to give a sample of what he could do, and to strike the assembled tribes with amazement. he called for his double-barrelled gun, and having himself charged one of the barrels with ball, he ordered a pigeon to be let loose, which he instantly brought down, to the astonishment of the beholders. "that is not all," said he to the chiefs near him; "to shoot a pigeon flying is no very extraordinary feat; but to cut off his head with the ball is what i call good shooting." then turning to his servant, he said something to him in german. the man went and picked up the bird, and when he held it out to view, it was seen to be beheaded just as the general had said. unbounded was the admiration of the simple mountaineers; they looked on the general as a supernatural being, and nothing was talked of for many a day in the aouls, but the beheaded pigeon and the wonderful russian marksman. now to explain the enigma. the inhabitants of the caucasus are ignorant of the use of small shot, and it was with this the general had accomplished his surprising exploit, having previously loaded one barrel with it. as for the pigeon's head, it was adroitly whipped off by the servant, who had received his orders to that effect in german. but it would be idle to expect that the shrewd good sense of the mountaineers will long be imposed on by the scientific accomplishments of the russian generals; on the contrary, these curious expedients only give them increased confidence in their own strength. yermoloff appears to us to have been the only governor who understood the nature of the war in the caucasus, and who conducted affairs with the dignified and inflexible vigour which were fitted to make an impression on the tribes. several commanders-in-chief have succeeded him in turns: rosen, golovin, grabe, raiefsky, anrep, neughart; but the government has gained nothing by all these changes. after the details we have given, comments and arguments would be almost superfluous: it is easy to conceive how critical is the situation of the russians in the caucasian regions. for twenty years the emperor nicholas has expended all the military genius of his empire, shrinking from no sacrifice of men or money, and employing generals of the highest reputation, and yet the might of his sovereign will has broken down before the difficulties we have pointed out. the tribes of the mountain are, on the contrary, growing stronger every day. they are making progress in the art of war; success fires their zeal; the old intestine discords are gradually disappearing, and the various tribes seem to feel the necessity of acting in concert, and uniting under one banner. now can russia, under existing circumstances, increase her chances of success? we think not, and the facts sufficiently corroborate our opinion. with his system of war and absolute dominion, the tzar has entangled himself in a hopeless maze, and the caucasus will long remain a running sore to the empire, a bottomless pit to swallow up many an army and much treasure. it has often been proposed to renounce the present system, but the emperor's vanity will not admit of any pacific counsels. besides, even if russia were now willing to change the nature of her relations with the independent tribes, she could not do so. her overtures would be regarded as tokens of weakness, and the mountaineers would only become so much the more enterprising. in alexander's time, when warlike ideas were less in favour, it was proposed to establish a commercial intercourse with the tcherkesses, and bring them gradually by pacific means to acknowledge the supremacy of russia. a genoese, named scassi, proposed in to the duc de richelieu, governor of odessa, a plan for a commercial settlement on the coasts of circassia. his scheme was adopted, and a merchant vessel touched soon afterwards at guelendchik and pchiat, without meeting with any hindrance on the part of the inhabitants. a trade was soon established, but the disorderly conduct of the russians aroused the jealousy of the circassians, who soon burned and destroyed the factory at pchiat, and the government, whether justly or not, treated scassi as a culprit. since that time there has been no thought of commerce or pacification, and the tribes of the caucasus have been regarded only as rebels to be put down, not as a free people justly jealous of their privileges. frequent conferences have taken place between the russian generals and the mountain chiefs; but as the one party talked only of liberty and independence, and the other of nothing but submission and implicit obedience, hostilities always broke out again with fresh vehemence. it appears, however, from facts recently communicated to me, that the emperor is at last disposed to give up his warlike system, and that his generals have at last received orders to act only on the defensive.[ ] but as the government, whilst adopting these new measures, still loudly proclaims its rights of sovereignty over the caucasus, it follows that this change of policy is quite illusory, and cannot effect any kind of reconciliation between the russians and the mountaineers. we now come to the point at which we may advert to a question which set the whole english press in a blaze in ; namely, the blockade of the circassian coasts, and the pretensions of russia as to that part of the caucasus. it is evident that the tzar's government being at open war with the mountaineers, may at its pleasure intercept the foreign trade with the enemy's country. this is an incontestible right recognised by all nations, and the capture of the _vixen_ was not worth the noise that was made about it. as to the proprietary right to the country which russia affects to have received from turkey, through the treaty of adrianople, it is totally fallacious, and is unsupported by any historical document or positive fact. it is fully demonstrated that turkey never possessed any right over circassia; she had merely erected on the seaboard, with the consent of the inhabitants, the two fortresses of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, for the protection of the trade between the two countries. russia herself, in the beginning, publicly acknowledged this state of things; and the evidence of her having done so is to be found in the general depôt of the maps of the empire. chance threw into my hands a map of the caucasus, drawn up by the russian engineers, long prior to the treaty of adrianople. the turkish possessions are distinctly marked on it, and defined by a red boundary line; they consist solely, as we have just stated, of the two fortresses on the coast. this map, the existence of which one day sorely surprised count voronzof (governor-general of new russia), was sent to england, and deposited in the foreign office during lord palmerston's administration. after all, i hardly know why russia tries to avail herself of the treaty of adrianople as a justification in the eyes of europe of her schemes of conquest in the caucasus. she is doing there only what we are doing in algeria, and the english in india, and indeed with still greater reason; for, as we shall presently see, the possession of the caucasus is a question vitally affecting her interests in her trans-caucasian provinces, and her ulterior projects respecting the regions dependent on persia and central asia. here are the terms in which this subject is handled in a report printed at st. petersburg, and addressed to the emperor after the expedition of general emmanuel towards the elbrouz, in : "the tcherkesses bar out russia from the south, and may at their pleasure open or close the passage to the nations of asia. at present their intestine dissensions, fostered by russia, hinder them from uniting under one leader; but it must not be forgotten that according to traditions religiously preserved among them, the sway of their ancestors extended as far as to the black sea. they believe that a mighty people, descended from their ancestors, and whose existence is corroborated by the ruins of madjar, has once already overrun the fine plains adjacent to the danube, and finally settled in pannonia. add to this consideration their superiority in arms. perfect horsemen, extremely well armed, inured to war by the continual freebooting they exercise against their neighbours, courageous, and disdaining the advantages of our civilisation, the imagination is appalled at the consequences which their union under one leader might have for russia, which has no other bulwark against their ravages than a military line, too extensive to be very strong." reflections like these, printed in st. petersburg, can leave no doubt as to the dangers to which the southern provinces are exposed. they are not to be mistaken, and the government sees them clearly: the aggressive independence of the caucasus is perilous to all russia. armed, courageous, and enterprising as they are, the mountaineers need only some degree of union among their chiefs, to carry the flames of revolt over a vast portion of the tzar's dominions. let any one look fairly and impartially at the immense region comprised between the danube and the caspian, and what will he behold? to the east , tents of khirghis, turcomans, and kalmucks, robbed of all their ancient rights, or threatened with the loss of the remnant yet left them of their independence; in the centre , cossacks bound to the most onerous military service, tormented by the recollection of their suppressed constitutions, and detesting a government whose efforts tend to extinguish every trace of their nationality; in the south and west the tatars of the crimea and the sea of azof, and the bessarabians, who are far from being favourable to russia; and lastly, beyond the caucasus, in asia, restless populations, ill-broken as yet to the russian yoke, and possessions with which there exists no overland communication except that by way of mozdok, a dangerous route, which cannot be traversed without an escort of infantry and artillery, and which the mountaineers may at any moment intercept.[ ] here, assuredly, are causes enough of disorganisation and ruin, that want only a man of genius to set them in action. what wonder is it that with such contingencies to apprehend, the empire recoils from no sacrifice! no one, we believe, will deny the schemes of conquest which the muscovite government entertains regarding turkey, persia, and even certain regions of india: these schemes are incontestible, and have long been matter of history. the fact being admitted, what is the position most favourable for these vast plans of aggrandisement? we have but to glance at the map to answer immediately: the regions beyond the caucasus. there it is that russia is in contact at once with the caspian and the black sea, with persia and turkey; from thence she can with the same army dictate laws to the sultan of constantinople, and to the shah of teheran; and there her diplomacy finds an ample field to work, and continual pretexts to justify fresh encroachments. but this formidable position will never be truly and securely possessed by the tzars until the tribes of the caucasus shall have been subjugated. when the empire acquired all those asiatic provinces, its situation as to the caucasus was far from being so critical as it now is. it is, in fact, only within the last fourteen or fifteen years that the fierce struggle has raged between muscovite domination and the freedom of the mountain. i therefore much doubt that russia would now venture to act towards persia as she did in the time of catherine ii., and her successors. her hostile attitude has been strikingly modified since she has had in her rear a foe so active and dangerous as the caucasians. this is a consideration that may ease the minds of the english as to their possessions in india, for the road by herat and affghanistan will not be so very soon open to their rivals. there can be no question then respecting the great importance of the caucasus to russia. the independence of the mountaineers is perilous to her southern governments, compromises the safety and the future destiny of the trans-caucasian provinces, and at the same time fetters and completely paralyses the ambition of the tzar. it is in this sense the question is likewise regarded by the court of teheran, which now builds its whole hope of safety on the entanglements of russia in the caucasus. and now let us ask what is the work which russia is doing beyond the caucasus for the advantage or detriment of mankind? what, independently of her ambition and her tendencies, is the influence she is called to exercise over the actual and future lot of the nations she has subjected to her sway? it must be admitted that when the imperial armies appeared for the first time on the confines of asia, the trans-caucasian provinces were abandoned without defence or hope for the future to all the sanguinary horrors of anarchy. turkey, persia, and the mountain tribes rioted in the plunder of georgia and the adjacent states. the advent of the russians put an end to this sad state of things, and introduced a condition of peace and quiet unknown for many centuries before. the imperial government, it is true, brought with it its vices, its abuses, its vexations, and its hosts of greedy and plundering functionaries; and then, when the first heyday of delight at the enjoyment of personal safety was past, the inhabitants had other hardships to deplore. nevertheless, the depredations committed by its functionaries will never prevent the inevitable tendency of the muscovite occupation to bring about an intellectual development, which, soon or late, will act most favourably on the future condition of those asiatic regions. christian populations, so active and enterprising as are those of the trans-caucasian provinces, will infallibly begin a career of social improvement from the moment they find themselves released from the engrossing care of defending their bodily existence. of course it will need many years to mature a movement which derives no aid from the too superficial and corrupt civilisation of russia; nor has any thing worth mentioning been done as yet to promote the industry, commerce, and agriculture of a country, which only needs some share of freedom to be productive. tiflis is far from having fulfilled the prophecy of count gamba, in , and become a second palmyra or alexandria; on the contrary, every measure has been adopted that could extinguish the very germs of the national wealth. but humanity, mysterious in its ways, and slow in its progress, seldom keeps pace with the impatience of nations; and notwithstanding the new evils that in our day afflict the trans-caucasian populations, we are convinced that it was a grand step in advance for them to have been withdrawn from the anarchical sway of persia and turkey, and to have had the personal safety of their inhabitants secured by the intervention and authority of russia.[ ] the conquest of india by the russians has often been the theme of long discussions and elaborate hypotheses. england was very uneasy at the attempts on khiva, and never meets with a single difficulty in affghanistan without ascribing it to muscovite agents. it is, therefore, worth while to consider what are the means and facilities at the command of russia for the establishment of her dominion in the centre of turkistan and on the banks of the indus and the ganges. three points of departure and three routes present themselves to russia for the invasion of central asia. on the eastern coast of the caspian sea, manghishlak, tuk karakhan, and the bay of balkhan, communicate with khiva by caravan routes; orenburg to the north is in pretty regular communication with khiva and bokhara; and to the south the caspian provinces trade with affghanistan either by way of meshed, bokhara, and balkh, or by meshed, bokhara, and candahar. the first line that was taken by a russian expedition was that from tuk kharakhan to khiva. prince alexander bekovitch was sent by peter the great to explore certain regions of the khanat of khiva, which were supposed to contain rich gold mines, and landed on the caspian shore with about , men. the result was disastrous; but the details are too well known to need repetition here. no new demonstration has since been made in that direction, and it appears to have been with good reason abandoned entirely. the eastern shores of the caspian have been sufficiently explored to make it clear that they cannot be made the starting point of military operations against turkistan. from the mouth of the emba to the vicinity of astrabad, the shore is without a river; and the whole seaboard, as well as the regions between the caspian and khiva, with the exception of a very small tract occupied by the balkhan mountains, presents only barren desert plains, without water, occupied by nomade turcomans, and affording no resources to an invading army. "this country," says mouravief, "exhibits the image of death, or rather of the desolation left behind by a mighty convulsion of nature. neither birds nor quadrupeds are found in it; no verdure or vegetation cheers the sight, except here and there at long intervals some spots on which there grow a few sickly stunted shrubs." it is reckoned that on an average a caravan employs from twenty-eight to thirty-five days of camel-marching to complete the distance of about two hundred leagues that divides tuk karakhan from khiva. the journey is not quite so long from the bay of balkhan. this was the route taken by captain mouravief when he was sent by yermolof to the khan of khiva, to propose to him an alliance with russia. it would certainly be hard to conceive any conditions more unfavourable for an expedition towards the interior than are presented by this part of the coast. on the one side is the caspian sea, the navigation of which is at all times difficult, and in winter impossible; on the other side more than a month's march through the desert; and then on the coast itself there is a total impossibility of cantoning a reserved force. under these circumstances, all schemes of conquest in this direction must be chimerical. the russians no doubt might, by a clever _coup-de-main_, push forwards some thousands of men on khiva, and take the town; but what would they gain thereby? how could they victual their troops; or how could they establish any safe line of transport across deserts traversed by flying hordes of warlike plunderers? russia could not possibly dispense with a series of fortified posts to keep up a regular communication with her army of occupation, and how could she erect and maintain such posts in a naked and wholly unproductive country? the government has already tried to establish some small forts on the north-eastern shore of the caspian, for the protection of its fisheries, against the khirghis; but to this day it has effected nothing thereby, but the useless destruction of many thousands of its soldiers, who have perished under the most cruel hardships. furthermore, the khanat of khiva, the state nearest the imperial frontiers, is but a very small part of turkistan; nor would its occupation help in more than a very limited degree towards the conquest of bokhara, and _a fortiori_ towards that of affghanistan. after the line from the eastern coast of the caspian, that from orenburg to khiva and bokhara appears to have attracted the particular attention of the tzars. but general perofsky's fruitless expedition against khiva, in , has demonstrated that this line is quite as perilous and difficult as the other. the steppes that lie between russia and the two khanats are exactly similar to those situated north and east of the caspian, presenting the same nakedness and sterility, an almost total want of fresh water, and nomade tribes perpetually engaged in rapine. when state councillor negri was sent on an embassy to the khan of bokhara, in , he set out accompanied by cossacks, infantry, twenty-five bashkir horsemen, two pieces of artillery, horses, and camels. the government afforded him every possible facility and means of transport, and he took with him more than two months' rations for his men and cattle. yet though he met with no obstruction on the part of the hordes whose steppes he traversed, he was not less than seventy-one days in completing the journey of kilometres ( miles) from orenburg to bokhara. perofsky, who marched at the head of infantry, with , baggage camels, could not even reach the territory of khiva. the disasters suffered by his troops obliged him to retrace his steps without having advanced further than ac boulak, the last outpost erected by the russians in , at kilometres from the emba. the obstacles encountered by his small army were beyond all description. the cold was fearful, being degrees below zero of the centigrade thermometer; the camels could scarcely advance through the snow; and the movements of the troops were constantly impeded by hurricanes of extraordinary violence. such an expedition, undertaken in the depth of winter, solely for the purpose of having fresh water, may enable one to guess at the difficulties of a march over the same ground in summer. spring is a season unknown in all those immense plains of southern russia; intense frost is there succeeded abruptly by tropical heat, and a fortnight is generally sufficient to dry up the small streams and the stagnant waters produced by the melting of the snows, and to scorch up the thin coating of pasturage that for a brief while had covered the steppes. what chance then has russia of successfully invading turkistan from the north, and reigning supreme over bokhara, which is separated from orenburg by leagues of desert? all that has been done, and all that has been observed up to this day, proves that the notion is preposterous. as for any compact and amity between russia and the numerous kirghis hordes, such as might favour the march of the imperial armies in bokhara, no such thing is to be expected. a great deal has been said of the emperor alexander's journey to orenburg in , and the efforts then made by the government to conciliate the kirghis; but these proceedings have been greatly exaggerated, and represented as much more important than they really were. they have not produced any substantial result, and i know from my own experience how hostile to russia are all the roving tribes of the caspian, and how much they detest whatever menaces their freedom and independence. we have now to consider in the last place the two great persian routes, which coincide, or run parallel, with each other, as far as meshed, where they branch off to bokhara on the one hand, and on the other to cabul by herat and candahar. the former of these routes, travelled over by alexander burnes, seems to us totally impracticable. the distance to bokhara from teheran (which we will assume for the starting point, though it is still the capital of persia) is not less than leagues; and it cannot reasonably be supposed possible to effect, and above all to preserve, a conquest so remote, when in order to reach the heart of the coveted country, it is necessary to traverse the vast deserts north of meshed, occupied by nomade hordes, which are the more formidable, inasmuch as no kind of military tactics can be brought to bear on them. moreover, it must not be forgotten that the occupation of bokhara by no means infers that of affghanistan. the distance from the former to cabul is more than leagues. the regions between the two towns are indeed less sterile and easier to traverse; but, on the other hand, an army marching towards india would have to penetrate the dangerous passes of the high mountain chain between turkistan and affghanistan, which are defended by the most indomitable tribes of central asia. here would be repeated those struggles in which russia has been vainly exhausting her strength for so many years in the caucasus.[ ] in truth, in presence of such obstacles, of ground, climate, population, and distance, all discussion becomes superfluous, and the question must appear decided in the negative by every impartial man who possesses any precise notions as to the regions of western asia. there remains the route by meshed, herat, and candahar. this is incontestably the one which presents fewest difficulties; yet we doubt that it can ever serve the ambitious views attributed to russia. along the line from teheran to herat lie important centres of agricultural populations; villages are found on it surrounded by a fertile and productive soil. but these advantages, besides being very limited, are largely counterbalanced by uncultivated plains destitute of water which must be traversed in passing from one inhabited spot to another, and by the obstacles of all kinds which would be subsequently encountered in a march through the deserts of affghanistan, the warlike tribes of which are much more formidable even than the turcomans who infest the route from teheran to herat. besides, as it is nearly leagues from the capital of persia to the centre of affghanistan, it is exceedingly unlikely that russia will ever succeed in subjugating a country in which its armies could only arrive by a military road maintained and defended through so huge a space. no doubt the way would be considerably smoothed for russia along both the candahar and the bokhara lines, if by gradually extending the circle of her conquests she had brought the inhabitants of khorasan and turkistan to obey her. but there are obstacles to the achievement of this preliminary task which the empire is not by any means competent to surmount, nor will it be so for a very long time to come. to say nothing of climate, soil, and distance, all the tribes in question are animated with a hatred and aversion for russia, which will long neutralise the projects of the tzars. we often hear of the great influence exercised by the cabinet of st. petersburg at khiva, bokhara, and cabul; but we believe it to be greatly exaggerated, and the history of the various muscovite embassies proves most palpably that it is so. what did negri and mouravief effect at khiva and bokhara? they were both received with the most insulting distrust, prevented from holding any communication with the natives, and watched with a strictness which is only employed against an enemy. mouravief even went near to pay for his embassy with his head. was russia more fortunate at cabul? we think not. the remoteness of her dominions may cause her agents to be received with some degree of favour, especially at a time when the sovereign of cabul finds himself exposed to the hostility of england. yet it is not the less true that any serious attempt of russia on turkistan and the eastern regions of persia would suddenly arouse the animosity of the affghans and all their neighbours. we readily admit that the imperial government has it in its power, by its advice and its intrigues, to exercise a certain influence at cabul, to the detriment of england; but that this influence can ever serve the extension of the muscovite sway is what we utterly deny, knowing as we do the intense and unmitigable aversion to russia which is felt by all the natives of asia. the conquests of alexander the great and of genghis khan have often been appealed to as proving how easy it would be for the tzars to follow in the footsteps of those great captains. such language bespeaks on the part of the writers who have put it forth the most profound ignorance of the actual condition of the places and the inhabitants. when alexander marched towards bactriana to subjugate the last possessions of persia, he left behind him rich and fertile countries, important greek colonies, and nations entirely subdued; moreover, he marched at the head of an army consisting of natives of the south, possessing all the qualifications necessary for warfare in the latitudes of central asia. furthermore, at that period the provinces of the oxus contained numerous rich and flourishing towns, with inhabitants living in luxury, and little capable of resistance. nevertheless, in spite of all the facilities and all the supplies which the country then offered to an invading army, its physical conformation, broken and bounded by deserts both on the north and on the south, seems to have aided the efforts of its defenders to a remarkable degree. it was in fact in this remote part of persia that the conqueror of darius had to fight many a battle for the establishment of his transient sway. the same circumstances marked his march to india. invasions have become still more difficult since his day, for all those regions once occupied by wealthy and agricultural nations have been ravaged and turned into deserts; scarcely do there exist a few traces of the ancient towns, and the populations subdued by alexander have been succeeded by hordes of khirgis, turcomans, and affghans, who would be for the russians what the scythians were for the king of macedon and the other conquerors who tried to enslave their country. the mongol invasions can no more than alexander's be regarded as a precedent for russia. inured to the fatigues of emigration, carrying all their ordinary habits into the camp, changing their country without changing their ways of life, unburdened by any _matériel_ of war, and never retarded by the slow and painful march of a body of infantry, the hordes of genghis khan and tamerlane were singularly fitted for occupying and retaining possession of the immense plains of turkistan, and realising the conquest of india. russia, on the contrary, is totally devoid of those grand means of sway which alexander and the mongols enjoyed. the russians have nothing in common with the soldiers of antiquity and of the middle ages, and are placed in very different circumstances: they are natives of the coldest regions of the globe; they have no possible opportunity of previous acclimation, and they are separated from the frontiers of india by more than leagues of almost desert country, in which the employment of infantry, wherein alone consists the real superiority of europeans over orientals, is impracticable. and now, if we look to india, and to the people from whom the tzars propose to wrest its empire, we see great britain occupying all the towns on the coast and in the interior, mistress of the great rivers of the country, controlling millions of inhabitants by her irresistible political ascendency, having the richest and most productive countries of the world for the basis of her military operations, commanding acclimated european troops, and a powerful native army habituated to follow her banners; in a word, we see great britain placed in the most admirable position for defending her conquests, and repulsing any aggression of the northern nations, foreign to the soil of hindustan and central asia. the fears of the english and the schemes of the russians appear to us, therefore, alike chimerical. undoubtedly, as we have already said, the intrigues of the government of st. petersburg, may, like those of any other influential power, create difficulties and annoyances in affghanistan and elsewhere; but the english rule will never be really in danger, until the time shall come when national ambition and a desire of resistance shall have been kindled in the hindu populations themselves. let us turn back to the caucasus, of which we have not spoken in this discussion, though the independence of its tribes is in our opinion one of the most important obstacles to the aggrandisement of russia in asia; and let us imagine what are the immediate palpable interests which are at stake in the trans-caucasian regions for certain powers of europe. every one knows that persia is become of late years the point of contact between england and russia, the scene of competition between the two nations for the disposal of their merchandise. our readers are aware, that since the suppression of the transit trade and free commerce of the caucasian provinces, the english have established a vast depôt for their manufactures at trebisond, whence they have not only acquired a monopoly in the supply of armenia, eastern turkey, and the greater part of persia, but also supply the russian provinces themselves by contraband. hence it may be conceived with what wakeful jealousy england must watch the proceedings of russia beyond the caucasus, and what an interest she has in impeding any conquest that would close against her the great commercial route she has pursued by way of erzeroum and tauris. she cannot, therefore, be indifferent to the independence of the caucasus, which, while serving as a bulwark to the frontiers of turkey and persia, affords also a most effectual protection to her mercantile operations in trebisond. it may perhaps be said that this is a merely english question, very interesting to the manufacturers of london and manchester, but of little concern to france. but where our neighbours find means to dispose annually of more than , , _l._ sterling worth of manufactures, there also we think our own political and commercial interests are concerned. have not we, too, an influence to keep up in asia? do not we, too, possess manufactories and a numerous working population, and is it not carrying indifference and apathy too far, to let other powers engross all those regions of asia where we could find such ready and profitable markets? whose fault is it if the french flag is so seldom seen on the black sea, if trebisond is become an english town, and if the commerce of asia is monopolised by our rivals? there is much to blame in the indifference of our country, and in the incapacity of some of our consular agents. but if our commercial policy is often vicious, if our trade is misdirected and mismanaged, and we are often outstripped by our neighbours across the channel, is that any reason why we should, in blind selfishness, express our approval of conquests which would only end in the destruction of all european commerce in the black sea? certainly if russia, modifying her prohibitive system, and frankly abandoning all further designs against turkey and the coasts of the black sea, would seek to extend her dominions solely on the side of persia, we think it would be good policy not to thwart such a movement; for in case of a struggle between that power and england, france would unquestionably be called on to act as a mediator, which would give her an admirable opportunity for dictating conditions favourable to her policy and her influence in the east. the detailed considerations into which we have entered respecting the situation of the russians, the war in the caucasus, and the political importance of that region, clearly indicate the differences between the conflict in the caucasus and that which we have been carrying on for fourteen years in algeria. the aggressive policy of russia once admitted, and her possessions north, south, and east of the caucasus not allowing of contestation, the submission of the mountaineers becomes for her a vital question, with which is connected, not only the fate of her asiatic provinces, but also that of all the governments that lie between the danube and the caspian. in algeria, on the contrary, we are not urged by any imperious motive to extend our conquests. our political influence in europe, and our real strength could at present gain nothing thereby; and it is probably reserved to another generation to derive a grand and useful result from our african conquests. of late years some public writers, taking the defeats of russia for their text, have founded on them an argument against the establishment of french supremacy in algeria. this reasoning appears to us unsound, and it is even at variance with historical facts. in asia, russia has had to deal with two very distinct regions; the trans-caucasian provinces, and the caucasus proper. the former, easy of access, and comprising georgia, imeritia, mingrelia, and the other provinces taken from persia and turkey, were occupied by disorganised nations, at variance within themselves, and differing from each other in race, manners, and religion; accordingly the muscovite sway was established over them without difficulty, and without any conflict worth mentioning with the inhabitants. the case has not been the same in that immense mountain barrier erected between europe and asia, the inaccessible retreats of which extend from anapa to the shores of the caspian. the dwellers in those regions present no analogy with the inhabitants south of the chain. there has never been a moment's pause in the obstinate strife between them and russia; and all the sacrifices, and all the efforts of the tzars against them, have for sixty years been wholly in vain. our situation in algeria is evidently very different. we have there had for our portion neither the bootless strife of the caucasus, though having most warlike tribes for adversaries, nor the easy conquests of the trans-caucasian provinces. it is but fourteen years since our troops landed in africa, and we possess, not only all the towns of the seaboard, but likewise all those of the interior; numerous bodies of natives share actively in our operations; we are masters of all the lines of communication; our forces command the country to a great distance from the coasts: and in the opinion of all well-informed officers the pacification of the regency of algiers would, perhaps, have by this time been accomplished, if the government had set its face against the passion for bulletins, and the too martial humour of most of our generals, and tried to pacify the tribes, not by arms and violence, but numerously ramified commercial relations which should call into play the natural cupidity of the arabs. nor can the topographical difficulties of algeria be compared with those that defend the country of the lesghis, the tchetchenzes, and the tcherkesses. intersected by vast plateaux, numerous rich and fertile valleys, and parallel mountain ranges, almost everywhere passable and flanked by long lines of coast of which we possess the principal points, and which present at algiers, oran, philippeville, and bona, wide openings affording admission into the interior, our possessions afford free course to our armies, and nowhere exhibit that strange and singular conformation in which has consisted from time immemorial the safety of the caucasian tribes. there are other circumstances likewise that facilitate our progress in africa, and enable us to exercise a direct influence over all the tribes south of the tel of algiers. as has been very ably demonstrated by m. carrette, captain of engineers, it is enough to occupy the extreme limits of the cultivated lands, and the markets in which the inhabitants of the oases exchange their produce for the corn and other indispensable commodities of the north, to oblige all the populations of the sahara, fixed or nomade, immediately to acknowledge the sovereignty of france. it is only in case our government, impelled by ill-directed vanity, should decide on the absolute conquest of the mountains of the kabyles, that we might encounter in the country, and in the political constitution of those mountaineers, some of the obstacles that characterise the caucasian regions. and again, what comparison can there be between kabylia, the two portions of which east and west of algiers comprise but or square leagues of surface, and the great chain of the caucasus which extends with a mean breadth of fifty or sixty leagues, over a length of more than leagues? we say nothing of the superiority of our armies and our military system. it is enough to recall what we have said as to the deplorable situation of the troops in the caucasus, to be aware how much france has the advantage over russia in this respect. the diseases and the frightful mortality incident to our armies have been also dwelt on; but here again all the statistical returns are in favour of france. out of a force of , men, our mean annual loss is or . in , indeed, the most fatal year, it appears to have risen to , ; but in that same year, and likewise in the following year, russia lost more than , on the coasts of circassia alone. thus physically, as well as politically, there is a total difference between the war in the caucasus and that in algeria; and instead of suffering ourselves to be disheartened by fourteen years of unproductive occupation, and despairing before hand, because the actual results do not keep pace with our unreasonable impatience, we ought to take example by that indefatigable perseverance with which russia, in spite of her disasters and the fruitlessness of her efforts, has gone on in the pursuit of her purpose for upwards of half a century. footnotes: [ ] m. hommaire says he has copied the bulletin exactly as it appeared in french in the russian papers. [ ] "unfortunately the author of this heroic act is unknown. it is believed from some hearsay accounts to have been performed by a private soldier of the tenguinisky regiment of infantry. the results of the inquiry instituted on the subject will be published hereafter." (_note of the russian journalist._) [ ] this was written in . [ ] there is indeed a road by way of daghestan along the caspian; but it is still more impracticable than that by mozdok, and besides it is too long to be of use to russia in her dealings with the asiatic governments. as for the maritime routes by the caspian and the black sea, their utility is greatly limited by the intense frosts which block up the ports of odessa, kherson, taganrok, kertch, and astrakhan during four months of the year. [ ] we do not mean these remarks to apply in any respect to the mussulman tribes, of whom we will speak hereafter. the christian and the mahometan population balance each other in the trans-caucasian provinces; they both number about , males. [ ] the mountains that divide turkistan from affghanistan are covered with perpetual snow; some of their peaks are yards high. hadjigak, which was crossed by a. burnes, is yards above the sea. chapter xxxii. a storm in the caucasus--night journey; dangers and difficulties--stavropol--historical sketch of the government of the caucasus and the black sea cossacks. at four o'clock on a dull morning we left piatigorsk of charming memory, to strike once more into the mountains, where by the by, in less than an hour, we were met by one of the grandest and most violent storms i remember ever having witnessed. we had to endure its force for two long hours; and our situation was the more critical, since our _yemshik_ (coachman), though quite familiar with the road, seemed almost at his wits' end. it was only by the gleam of the lightning he was able to make such brief observations of the ground as enabled him to guide his horses. this was certainly a very precarious resource, but there is a special providence for travellers. lost in the midst of the mountains, and our sole hope of safety resting on the coolness and skill of a peasant, we escaped, we scarce knew how, from a seemingly inevitable catastrophe. a furious burst of rain, the last expiring effort of the storm, at last cleared the sky, which became coloured towards the west with purple bands, that contrasted gloriously with the darkness of the rest of the firmament. a magnificent rainbow, with one end springing from the highest peak of the caucasus, whilst the other was lost in the mists of evening, gleamed before us for a few moments, and gradually dissolved away. at half-past seven we reached the station, wet, weary, stupified, and very much surprised to find ourselves safe and sound after having passed through so many dangers. nevertheless, this recent alert by no means made us forego our original plan of travelling all night in order to reach stavropol the next day. nothing is so soon forgotten in travelling as danger. one is no sooner out of one scrape than he is ready to get into another, and a worse one, without giving a thought to his past alarms. you must get over the ground: that is your ruling thought. as for taking precautions, calculating the good or the bad chances of the journey, or troubling oneself about dangers to come, by reason of those already incurred, all this is quite out of the question. we were quite bent on travelling all night, but the idea was totally discountenanced by the postmaster and the cossacks whom we fell in with at the station. they told us there was a fair at stavropol, and that the road was always somewhat dangerous on such occasions, particularly after sunset. a night or two before, several persons returning from the fair had been surprised and plundered by the circassians, in spite of the many military posts along the road. several other ugly stories were told us, in a tone that at last shook our resolution, and we were beginning very reluctantly to give up our project, when an unexpected incident made us recur to it again. a polish officer, who until then had kept aloof in a dark corner, seeing the annoyance we felt at this unforeseen delay, joined in the conversation, and offered to set out at once with us, if his company would be sufficient to restore our confidence. he, too, was going to stavropol, and it was all the same to him whether he travelled that night or next day. the proposal, which was made with the most obliging frankness, agreed too well with our wishes to allow of any further hesitation, and we at once accepted it. the pole had with him a servant very well armed, and the two together were such a reinforcement to our little troop as almost insured our safety. with great exultation we set about our preparations for departure, but the more experienced postmaster gave with reluctance the order to put the horses to, and could not help crossing himself repeatedly when he saw us get into the britchka, whilst the two yemshiks failed not to imitate his example, and to lift their fur caps several times in token of devotion. the russians always find means to mingle crossings with all the other acts of their hands, by which process they set their consciences entirely at rest. i am satisfied they cross themselves even when thieving, partly from habit, and partly in the hope of escaping without detection. once out of the yard, the pleasure of travelling on a mild and dim night through an unknown country, that presented itself to our eyes under vague and mysterious forms, so engrossed our minds that we thought no more of circassians, or broken ground, or danger of any kind. the pole's carriage preceded ours, and his cossack began to sing in a low tone one of those sweet melancholy airs which are peculiar to the malorussians. the plaintive melody, mingled with the tinkling of the horses' bells, and the motion of the carriage lulled me into a dreamy repose, half way between sleeping and waking. i know not how long this state of hallucination lasted; but i was startled out of it by a pistol-shot fired close to me, and before i could collect my senses a second was fired, but at some distance. the carriage had stopped, the night was very dark, and my companions were quite silent. i was a good deal frightened, until my husband explained to me that the polish officer had lost his way, and that our dragoman had fired his pistol as a signal to him, and that the second shot was an answer to the first. being now satisfied that we had not half a dozen circassians about us, i recovered courage enough to laugh at my first dismay. anthony left us to look for our travelling companion, after arranging with us that a third shot should be the token of his having found him. we passed half an hour in a state of painful anxiety, teasing ourselves with a thousand alarming conjectures, and dreading lest the report of fire-arms should bring down on us some of the circassians who might be prowling in the neighbourhood. what would i not have then given to be far away from that road which we had been told was so terrible, and of which my imagination still more magnified the dangers! at last the preconcerted signal was heard, and anthony soon afterwards returned, but alone, and told us that we must go on without the pole, whose pereclatnoi had stuck fast in a bad spot, and could not be extricated until daylight. the night was so dark, and the ground so dangerous, that notwithstanding his wish to ease our minds, the officer could not venture to come to us. this news was not calculated to abate our anxiety; we might in a moment be in the same predicament as the officer, supposing nothing worse should happen. the road, as the yemshik told us, wound round a rock, and what proved that it was dangerous was that it was flanked in places with slight posts and rails. such a precaution is so rare in russia, that it may be taken as a certain indication of no common danger. we debated awhile whether it would not be more prudent to remain where we were until daybreak; but the coachman was so terrified at the thought of passing a night in the mountains, that he gave us no peace till we moved forward. the prospect of tumbling down a precipice was decidedly less terrible to him than the thought of having to do with the circassians. alighting and leading his horses, he followed anthony, who carefully sounded one side of the road. as we advanced on our perilous descent, the sound of a torrent roaring at the bottom smote our ears, as if to increase our perplexity; but in an hour's time we found ourselves safe and sound on the plain, and soon afterwards we reached the station, where our arrival excited great astonishment. the postmaster was enraged against his colleague, and could not conceive how he had come to give us horses at night, in defiance of the strict rules of the police. for his part he assured us that his duty forbade him to do any such thing, and that it was useless to ask him. i need not say, however, that this declaration itself was useless, for we had had quite enough of the road for that night. i never enjoyed the most comfortable chamber in a french or german hotel so much as i did the miserable lodging in which i then lay down on a bench covered only with a carpet. we did not quit the station next day until the arrival of our travelling companion, whom we had reluctantly left in so unpleasant a predicament. he was severely bruised by his fall, but laughed heartily at his mishap. we set out together, very glad to get away from those fine mountains that were then gleaming in the rays of the morning. the events of the preceding night, though after all not very dramatic, had left so painful an impression on our mind, that the very sight of the mountains still caused us a secret dread. instead, therefore, of quitting with regret so picturesque a region, the more homely and commonplace the country became, the more we admired it. we were just in the humour to be delighted with the steppes of the black sea; so much does the appreciation of scenery depend on the state of the mind. during all this day's journey the road was covered with carriages, horsemen, and pedestrians, repairing to the fair of stavropol, and affording samples of all the motley population of the vicinity, circassians, cossacks, turcomans, georgians, and tatars; some in brilliant costume, caracoling on their high-bred kalmuck or persian horses, others stowed away with their families in carts covered with hides; others driving before them immense flocks of sheep or swine, that encompassed the carriages and horsemen, and occasioned some very comical incidents. among all those whom business or pleasure was calling to the fair, we particularly noticed a very handsome young circassian mounted on a richly caparisoned horse, and riding constantly beside a pavosk of more elegance than the rest, and the curtains of which were let down. this was enough to stimulate our curiosity, for in these romantic regions the slightest incident affords matter for endless conjectures. i would have given something to be allowed to lift one of the curtains of the mysterious pavosk, or at the least to keep it in view until our arrival in stavropol, but our postilion did not partake in our curiosity, and putting his horses to a gallop, he soon made us lose sight of the group. the last low range of the caucasus, which gradually diminishes in height to stavropol, formed an irregular line on our left, in which we caught many hasty glimpses of charming scenery. the vegetation still retained a great degree of freshness, in consequence of the mildness of the temperature, which at this season would have appeared to us extraordinary even in more southern countries. it was late in the evening when we reached stavropol, so that we could not avail ourselves of our letters of introduction, and were obliged to hunt for a lodging in the hotels of the principal street. but they were all full, and with great difficulty we succeeded, with the help of our polish friend, in getting admission to the great saint nicholas, a shabby inn, the common room of which was already tenanted by a dozen travellers. nevertheless, we secured a little corner, and there we contrived to form a tolerable sort of divan with our cushions and pelisses. i had now an opportunity of remarking how little notice travellers take of each other in this country. in this room, filled with people whose habits were so different from ours, we were as much at our ease as if the apartment belonged to us alone; and neither our language, behaviour, nor dress, appeared to attract any undue attention. stavropol, the capital of the whole caucasus, is a very agreeable town, and appeared to us so much the more so from the animation lent it by the fair. but i perceive that in the course of these travels i have not named one town without immediately joining the word _fair_ to it. it must be owned that chance was most bountiful to us in throwing in our way so many occasions for conceiving a high idea of the commerce of russia. at stavropol, however, the fair occupied our attention much less than general grabe, who was just a week returned from an expedition against the circassians. his staff filled the whole town with the noise of their martial deeds. every officer had his story of some glorious exploit, whereof of course he was himself the hero. though so recently returned, general grabe was already in busy preparation for another campaign, on which he built the greatest hopes. the good gentleman even pressed my husband very strongly to accompany him, as if it were a mere party of pleasure. he offered him his tent, instruments, and every thing necessary to render the excursion beneficial to science. under any other circumstances my husband would no doubt have yielded to the temptation of visiting the tribes of the caucasus in the very heart of their mountains, under the protection of a whole army, but it would have been madness to undertake such a journey after those we had but just completed. * * * * * before we finally take leave of the caucasian regions, it will not be amiss to give some historical account of that part of the empire, and of the cossacks of the black sea, to whom is committed the perilous task of protecting the frontiers against the incessant attacks of the formidable mountain tribes. it was by virtue of an ukase promulgated by catherine ii. in , that russia took full and entire possession of all the countries north of the kouban and the terek, which of yore formed the almost exclusive dominions of numerous hordes of black nogais, some of them independent, others acknowledging the authority of the tatar khans of the crimea. but previously to this period the tzars were already in military occupation of the country, for it was in that they completed the armed line of the caucasus, begun by peter the great, at the mouth of the terek. at first the new conquest was put under the direction of the military governor of astrakhan; but the state of the southern frontiers soon became so serious in consequence of the war with the mountaineers, that it was found advisable to form all the provinces conquered by catherine ii. north of the caucasus, into a distinct province. the government of the caucasus thus constituted, is bounded on the north by the kouma and the manitch, which divide it from the territory of astrakhan and from that of the don cossacks; on the west by the country of the black sea cossacks; on the east by the caspian, and on the south by the armed line of the kouban and the terek. at the foot of the caucasus, as everywhere else, the russian occupation occasioned great migrations. all the black nogais of the right bank of the kouban, who had fought against russia, withdrew beyond the river among the tribes of the mountain. the kabardians forsook the environs of georgief, and sought refuge deeper in the caucasian chain, and it was only the black nogais of the barren plains between the terek and the kouma that remained in their old abodes. cut off from the independent tribes since the erection of the fortresses of kisliar and mosdok, they took no part in the events of the war, and so they remained in peaceable possession of their territory. as for the kalmucks, who had been very bold and active auxiliaries of russia, they preserved intact all the pasturages they now possess in the government of the caucasus. the muscovite sway once established, and the frontiers put in a state of defence, the next step was to occupy the country along the northern verge of the caucasus in some other way than by light troops. it was therefore determined to form numerous colonies of muscovites and cossacks, a project which the absolute power of the tzars enabled them quickly to fulfil. the present villages in the centre of the province along the banks of the kouban, the terek, the kouma, the egorlik and the kalaous, were erected, and the military colonies of the black sea cossacks were founded; several large proprietors seconded the efforts of the government, and prompted either by the spirit of speculation, or by the superabundance of their slaves, formed large establishments on the lands that had been gratuitously conferred upon them. attempts, too, were made to settle some of the german families of saratof on the kouma. but the results were far from realising the hopes of the government. compressed between the narrow limits in the districts of stavropol and georgief, bounded on the north and east by the uncultivated lands of the turcomans and kalmucks, on the south by the armed lines, continually attacked and overrun by the mountaineers, the colonies soon ceased to wear a thriving appearance; many sacked and burnt villages never rose again from their ashes, the german colony on the kouma was destroyed, and now there remains no hope that the number of agricultural inhabitants will ever become sufficient to lend any real aid to the projects of the tzars. we have been in a great many villages on the kouma, and the confluents of the manitch, and found them scarcely able to supply their own wants. their contributions to the commissariat are almost nothing, and the armies are always obliged to procure their stores from the central provinces of russia. some settlements, indeed, such as vladimirofka and bourgon madjar on the kouma, directed by able men, have attained a high degree of prosperity; but these are exceptions, and they owe their wealth to the cultivation of the mulberry and the pine, and their numerous corn-mills, which constitute for them a virtual monopoly. the cultivation of corn has had no share in the welfare of these colonies, the nature of the climate having always been unfavourable to it: the people of vladimirofka and the neighbouring villages think themselves fortunate if they can raise corn enough for their own consumption. thus, while we cordially approve of the principle that suggested the foundation of these advanced posts of the slavic population, and that strives to enlarge their growth, we are nevertheless convinced that in the present state of things, with the war in the caucasus becoming every day more formidable, these colonies can never be conducive to the progress of russia; unless, indeed, that should happen, which we think most unlikely, namely, that the government should so extend its conquests as to become undisputed possessor of the fertile regions beyond the kouban, where the colonist could command sufficient natural resources. the cossacks better fulfilled the purpose for which they were settled on the frontier. active, enterprising, and accustomed to partisan warfare, they were admirably adapted for resisting the incursions of the mountaineers. if they have been less efficient of late years, the blame must be laid on the inordinate demands of the government, the extreme contempt with which they are treated by the russian generals, and, above all, the extinction of the privileges which had been wisely conferred on them in the beginning, and which alone could guarantee to the empire the maintenance of their vigorous military organisation. the black sea cossacks, as every one is aware, are descended from the zaporogues of the dniepr, whose famous military corporation appears to have been established towards the end of the fifteenth century. continually engaged against the tatars of the crimea, the ukraine cossacks founded at this period a sort of colony near the mouths of the dniepr, consisting exclusively of unmarried men, whose special avocation it was to guard the frontiers. their numbers rapidly increased, deserters from all nations being attracted to them by the hope of booty, and their setcha, or head-quarters, on an island of the dniepr, became famous throughout the land for the military services and the valour of its inhabitants. in , such was the importance of these colonies to poland, that king sigismund granted a large tract of land above the cataracts to the zaporogues, in order to strengthen the barrier erected by them between his dominions and the tatars. the new settlements on the dniepr for a long time followed the fortune of the cossacks of little russia. but as their strength augmented continually, they at last detached themselves from the mother country, and became an independent military state. the supremacy of the tzars was imposed on little russia in , and from that time the zaporogues, deprived of their allies, and left entirely to their own resources, owned allegiance, according to circumstances, to the turks or the tatars, to poland or russia, until the rebellion of mazeppa, in which they took part, led to the total destruction of their power. some years afterwards we find them again rallied under the protection of the khans of the crimea; but russia soon assumed so formidable an attitude in those parts, that they were at last constrained, in , to acknowledge themselves vassals of the empire. but the political decline of the unfortunate zaporogues did not stop there. during the war that preceded the treaty of koutchouk kainardji, a strong desire for independence was excited among them by the arbitrary acts of russia. many of their detachments fought even in the ranks of the turks. then it was that catherine determined on completely rooting out the military colony of the dniepr. the zaporogues were expelled by force from their territory, which was given to other cultivators; and some of them emigrated beyond the danube, while others were transported to the neighbourhood of bielgorod. ten years afterwards, when war broke out again with turkey, a great number of the latter volunteered into the russian armies. after the peace of jassy, prince potemkin, who had formed them into regiments, was so pleased with their valour and fidelity, that he induced catherine to settle them beyond the strait of the kertch, and intrust them with the defence of the circassian border. they were also granted, along with the peninsula of taman, the whole territory comprised between the kouban and the sea of azof, and extending eastward to the confluent of the laba, and northward to the river eia. the zaporogues then took the appellation of cossacks of the black sea, and their organisation was assimilated to that of their brethren of the don. they had an attaman, nominated for life by the emperor, out of a list of candidates chosen by themselves; and the civil and military affairs of the community were directed, under this supreme chief, by two permanent functionaries, and four assessors changed every three years. other privileges were likewise accorded to them, consisting chiefly in exemption from all taxes, the free use of the salt-pools, the right of terminating all litigations without having recourse to the st. petersburg courts of appeal, and in the pledge given to them by the government, that their regiments should never be required to serve beyond their own territory. under the influence of catherine's liberal institutions, the military colony completely fulfilled the hopes of the government, and made rapid progress. the rich pastures of the kouban were covered with immense multitudes of cattle, and agriculture, too, attained some degree of importance. the population also augmented considerably. the lands of the kouban, as formerly those of the don, became an asylum for a great number of fugitives, and the neighbouring provinces had often to complain of the escape of their slaves. but for the last twenty years the black sea cossacks have been suffering from the effects of the new measures for equalisation and uniformity, and, like the cossacks of the don, they are now on the eve of being subjected to the ordinary laws and institutions of the provinces of the empire. the first encroachment on their privileges, was their employment on active service during the late wars with turkey and persia. they were obliged to furnish four regiments, which lost an enormous number of men, and nearly all their horses. this first step taken, the government advanced rapidly in its course of reform, and in a few years the cossacks were deprived of their right of electing their own functionaries, who were thenceforth nominated by the emperor alone. these administrative changes, conjoined with the military duties, which have increased to a most onerous extent in the course of the war against the mountaineers, have had a very depressing effect on the spirits of the population; and at this day the cossacks of the kouban are far different men from those fiery zaporogues, whose vigorous aid was so eagerly sought by russia, poland, and turkey. the military life is become a loathsome burden to them, and they now only fight by constraint or in self-defence. the russians, accordingly, accuse them of cowardice; but the government, by destroying their privileges, and the commanders-in-chief by the scorn with which they treat them and the continual activity they impose on them, do all that in them lies to dishearten and debase them. it is they who are always put foremost in every expedition; every commanding officer sacrifices them without scruple, and makes targets of them for the balls of the mountaineers. is it reasonable, then, to expect alacrity and high courage on the part of men for whom military service is the breaking of every family tie, the destruction of all domestic prosperity, and who have not been left, in exchange for so many sacrifices, even the shadow of national independence? at the time of my last journey to the caucasus in , the cossacks of the black sea numbered about , souls, of whom , were males, residing in sixty-four villages, and on , , hectares of land held in common property, like the country of the don in former times. the colonial army counted at that period according to the registers, eleven regiments of cavalry, ten of infantry, of men each, and two batteries of artillery, one of them mounted, making altogether a total of , men, nearly the third of the male population. no doubt, the army can never in any case reach the official amount of force, its ranks being continually thinned by disease and war; and although young men are forced to enter the service at the age of seventeen, and are often kept in it thirty or forty years, still it would be quite impossible to bring more than , or , into the field at once, without endangering the total destruction of the population. in a pecuniary point of view, no men could well be more unfortunate than the cossacks of the kouban, whether in campaign against the mountaineers, or merely cantoned as reserves in their villages, they receive absolutely nothing for their services. the regulations, indeed, declare that the regiments actually called out shall receive pay at the rate of six rubles annually for each private, thirty-five rubles for every non-commissioned officer, and for every subaltern officer; but infallible means have been found for preventing these moderate allowances from ever reaching those to whom they are promised. the posting establishment throughout the cossack country costs the government just as little as the maintenance of the troops, since horses, harness, hay, and corn are all furnished gratis by the colony. the postilions even receive no pay whatever; they are only allowed a little flour and groats, and for every thing else they and their families must shift for themselves during their whole term of service. as for the progon (the posting-money paid by travellers), it belongs to the cossack exchequer, and composes, with the proceeds of the farm of brandy, salt, and the fisheries, the sole revenues of the country. when i was at ekaterinodar, the capital of the country, during the season of field-work, and in a time of quiet, they reckoned fourteen regiments on active service. accordingly, as might have been expected, agriculture had been long neglected, and the country was in a miserable state. nothing was to be seen in the villages but infirm old men, invalids, widows, and orphans; and the existence of the colony depended on the toil of the women alone. the distress then became so great as to excite the uneasiness of the government, and commissioners were sent to examine into the state of things; but unfortunately the mission, like every thing of the kind, did no good. the truth remained completely concealed from the emperor. the blame was cast entirely on the cossacks themselves, and nothing was done to remedy the sufferings of the population. we do not know what measures have been adopted since our departure by the imperial government with respect to the present and future situation of the military colony of the kouban. for our own parts, having had opportunities of appreciating the good qualities of the tchornomorskie cossacks, and all the capabilities which a wise administration would find in them, we cannot but heartily wish that the government may, with a better understanding of its own true interests, at least adopt towards them a line of conduct more in accordance with their wants and their laborious services. chapter xxxiii. rapid journey from stavropol--russian wedding--perilous passage of the don; all sorts of disasters by night-- taganrok; commencement of the cold season--the german colonies revisited. it would have been impossible to travel more rapidly than we did from stavropol to the don. the steppe is as smooth as a mirror, and the posting better conducted than in any other part. we no sooner reached a station, than horses, which had been brought out the moment we were descried, were put to, and galloped away with us without a moment's check to the next station. a temperature of at least ° reaumer, the beauty of the sky, and something light and joyous in the atmosphere, kept us in the highest spirits. in no country have i ever seen such multitudes of gossamer threads. the carriage, the horses, and our clothes were covered with those glistening prognostics of fair weather. as we advanced towards the abodes of civilisation, our thoughts were all about the pleasure of arriving at taganrok, to find our letters, our friends, our european habits again, and the comforts of which for many months we had enjoyed but casual snatches. we rejoiced, therefore, in the speed with which we got over the ground, and scarcely cared to bestow a glance on the stanitzas that fled away behind us. in passing through a russian village, however, we were constrained to bestow some attention on outward objects, our carriage being stopped by a wedding party that filled the whole street. we counted a dozen pavosks filled with young people of both sexes. the girls, with their heads bedizened with ribbons, screamed almost like savages, and rivalled the young men in impudence and coarseness. it was a disgusting spectacle. the bride differed from the rest only by the greater profusion of ribbons and flowers that formed her head-gear; her face was as red, her gestures as indelicate, and her voice as loud and shrill as those of her companions. it may seem scarcely credible, but we were but two-and-twenty hours travelling versts, between stavropol and the don. we ate and slept in the carriage, and only alighted at the river side, where all sorts of tribulations awaited us. i cannot at this moment think of that memorable night without wondering at the pertinacity with which ill-luck clings to us when once it has fastened upon us. at ten at night, when we were some little way from the don, we were told that the bridge was in a very bad state, and that we should probably be obliged to wait till the next day, before we could cross it. such a delay was not what we had bargained for, especially as we had reckoned on enjoying that very night a good supper and a good bed under a friendly roof in rostof. then the weather, which had been so mild, had suddenly turned chill, and this was another motive to haste; so we went on without heeding what was told us; but when we came to the river, the tokens that the bridge was out of order, were but too manifest. several carts stood there unyoked, and peasants lay beside them, patiently waiting the daylight. these men reiterated the bad news we had already heard; but then it was only eleven o'clock; if we waited we should have to pass nearly seven hours in the britchka, exposed to the cold night air, whereas once on the other side, we should reach rostof in two hours. this consideration was too potent to allow of our receding from our purpose. at the same time we neglected no precaution that prudence required. the coachman and the cossack were sent forward with a lantern to make a reconnaissance, and returning in half an hour, they reported that the passage was not quite impracticable, only it would be necessary to be very cautious, for some parts of the bridge were so weak, that any imprudence might be fatal to us. without calculating the risks we were about to run, we at once alighted, and followed the carriage, which the coachman drove slowly, whilst the cossack went ahead with the lantern, pointing out the places he ought to avoid. i do not think that in the whole course of my travels we were ever in so alarming a situation. the danger was imminent and indubitable. the cracking of the woodwork, the darkness, the noise of the water dashing through the decayed floor, that bent under our feet, and the cries of alarm uttered every moment by the coachman and the cossack, were enough to fill us with dismay: yet the thought of death did not occur to me, or rather my mind was too confused to have any distinct thought at all. frequently the wheels sank between the broken planks, and those were moments of racking anxiety; but at last by dint of perseverance we reached the opposite bank in safety. the passage had lasted more than an hour; it was time for it to end, for i could hold out no longer; the water on the bridge was over our ancles. it may be imagined with what satisfaction we took our places again in the carriage. the dangers we had just incurred, and which we were then better able fully to understand, almost made us doubt our actual safety. for a long while we seemed to hear the noise of the waves breaking against the bridge; but this feeling was soon dispelled by others; for our nocturnal adventures were by no means at an end. at some versts from the don our unlucky star put us into the hands of a drunken coachman, who after losing his way, i know not how often, and bumping us over ditches and ploughed fields, actually brought us back in sight of the dreadful bridge which we still could not think of without shuddering. we tried in our distress to persuade ourselves we were mistaken, but the case was too plain; there was the don in front of us, and there stood axai, the village we had passed through after getting into the britchka. fancy our rage after floundering about for two hours to find ourselves just at the point from which we started. the only thing we could think of was to pass the night in a peasant's cabin; but our abominable coachman, whom the sight of the river had suddenly sobered, and who had reason to expect a sound drubbing, threw himself on his knees and so earnestly implored us to try the road to rostof again, that we yielded to his entreaties. the difficulty was how to get back into the road, and we had many a start before we found it. the carriage was so violently shaken in crossing a ditch, that the coachman and anthony were pitched from their seats, and the latter fell upon the pole, and became entangled in such a way that he was not easily extricated. his shouts for help, and his grimaces when my husband and the cossack had set him on his legs were so desperate, that one would have thought half his bones were broken, though he had only a few trifling bruises. as for the yemshik, he picked himself up very coolly, and climbed into his seat again as if nothing extraordinary had happened. to see the quiet way in which he resumed the reins, one would have supposed he had just risen from a bed of roses; such is the usual apathy of the russian peasants. it was four in the morning when we came in sight of rostof, which is but twelve versts distant from the don. thus we spent a great part of the night in wandering about that town, like condemned ghosts, without deriving much advantage from our rash passage of the river. it was well worth while to run the risk of drowning, when our calculations and efforts could be baffled by so vulgar a cause as the drunkenness of a coachman! but the sight of rostof, where good cheer and hospitality awaited us, consoled us for all our mishaps. yet even here, when we almost touched the goal, our patience was put to further trial; for alighting at the post station two versts from the town, our rascally coachman positively refused to drive us a foot beyond it. this was too much for the cossack's endurance, so drawing out a long knout from his belt, he paid the fellow on the spot the whole reckoning he had intended to settle with him at the journey's end. the yemshik's shouts brought all the people of the station about us, and the wife of the postmaster came and scolded him at such a rate, that at last he was forced to drive us to the town; but it was more than an hour before he set us down at mr. yeams's house. his drunkenness had now passed into the sleepy stage, and he could only be kept to his work by constant thumping. the house where we intended to lodge contained a corn store belonging to mr. yeams, english consul at taganrok, who had obligingly invited us to use it when we quitted that town, and had sent orders to that effect to his clerk, m. grenier: and so pleased were we with our quarters on our first visit to rostof, that now the thought of going anywhere else never entered our heads. to have done so would have seemed an affront to mr. yeams's cordial hospitality. while we were unpacking the carriage, anthony went and knocked at the door, and the coachman, unyoking his horses, in a trice went off as fast as he could, without even waiting to ask for drink money. some minutes elapsed; hommaire, losing patience, knocks again, when at last out comes anthony with a very long face, and tells us that m. grenier, clerk and provençal into the bargain, refused of his own authority to receive us, pretending that he had not a room for us. unable to comprehend such conduct, and believing that there was some mistake in the case, my husband went himself to the man, who putting his nose out from under the blankets, told him impudently, we must go and look for a lodging elsewhere. all comment on such behaviour would be superfluous. to shut the door at night against one's own country people, and one of them a woman, rather than incur a little personal trouble, was a proceeding that could enter the head of none but a provençal. the kalmucks might have given a lesson in politeness to this boor, who rolled himself up snugly to sleep, whilst we spent the night, benumbed and shivering, under his windows in his court-yard. it may be conceived in what a state i passed the night; drenched with wet, worn down with mental and bodily fatigue, hungry, sleepy, and chilled by the sharp cold that at that season precedes sunrise, i was really unconscious of what was passing around me. as soon as it was light the cossack procured horses, and took us to the best hotel in rostof, where a warm room, an excellent bowl of soup, and a large divan, soon set us to rights again. on our arrival at taganrok all the yeams family were indignant at the behaviour of our provençal, and, had we been disposed to pay him in his own coin we might have done so. they would have sent him his discharge forthwith, had we not interceded for him; the french consul wrote him a threatening letter, and with this our vengeance remained satisfied. we learned at taganrok that the strangest rumours had gone abroad respecting us. some said that the circassians had made us prisoners, others that we had perished of hunger and thirst in the caspian steppes. in short, every one had had his own melodramatic version of our supposed fate. i cannot describe all the kind interest that was shown on our safe return from so hazardous a journey. in spite of our wish to arrive as soon as possible in odessa, we could not refrain from bestowing a week on friends who received us with such warm sympathy. the winds from the ural swept away in one night all that october had spared. the weather was still sunny when we arrived on the shores of the sea of azof; but on the next day the sky assumed that sombre chilly hue that always precedes the metels or snow-storms. the whole face of nature seemed prepared for the reception of winter, that eternal sovereign of northern lands. the sea-beach covered with a thin coating of ice, the harsh winds, the ground hardened by the frost, and the increasing lividness of the atmosphere, all betokened its coming, and made us keenly apprehensive of what we should have to suffer on our way to odessa, where we were to take up our winter quarters, and from whence we were still versts distant. with the rapidity of the russian post the journey might be accomplished in ten days, if the weather were not unfavourable; but after the threatening symptoms i have mentioned, we might expect soon to have a fall of snow, and perhaps to be kept prisoners by it in some village. unfortunately for us it was the most dangerous season for travelling in russia. the first snows, which are not firm enough to bear a sledge, are much feared by travellers, and almost every year cause many accidents. at this period, too, the winds are very violent, and produce those frightful snow-storms which we have already described. it was a very cheerless prospect for persons so way-worn and weary as we were, to have incessantly to fight against the elements and other obstacles. i remember that in this last journey our need of rest was so urgent, that the poorest peasant seated by his stove was an object of envy to us. we once more passed through all the german colonies i had so much admired a few months before. but the pleasing verdure of may had disappeared beneath the icy winds of the north, and all was dreary and dull of hue. even the houses, no longer glistening in the sunshine, had a sombre appearance in harmony with the withered leaves of the orchards. a metel that broke out one night forced us to pass two days in a german village, in the house of a worthy old prussian couple. the wife had lost the use of one side, and could not leave her chair, but her husband supplied her place in all the domestic concerns with a skill that surprised us. as in all the german houses, the principal room was adorned with a handsome porcelain stove, and a large tester bed which our hosts insisted on giving up to us. from morning till night the husband, aided by a stout servant girl, exerted all his culinary powers for our benefit. the table was laid out all day until dinner hour with coffee, pastry, bottles of wine, ham, and other appetising commodities. there is nothing i think more delightful in travelling than to watch the proceedings of a somewhat rustic cuisine. in such cases all the marvels of carême's art fade before two or three simple dishes prepared under your own eyes. the ear is pleasingly titillated by the tune of the frying-pan, the smell of good things stimulates desire and quickens the imagination, and the very preliminaries are so agreeable, that the traveller would not exchange them for the most magnificent banquet in the world. the quantity of snow that had fallen during those two days retarded our speed. a man rode on before the carriage and carefully sounded the ground, for the metel had filled up the holes and ditches, and obliterated all landmarks. nothing can be more frightful than those snowy wastes recently swept and tossed by furious winds. all trace of man's existence and his works, have disappeared beneath those white billows heaped upon each other like those of the ocean in a storm. how well we could appreciate, in those long days we spent in plodding through the snow, the horrible sufferings of our poor soldiers, perishing by thousands in the fatal retreat of ! the thought of their misery smote upon our hearts, and forbade us to complain, warmly clad as we were, drawn by stout horses, and having all we required done for us by others. as we approached kherson post-sledges began to show themselves; several of them shot by us with travellers wrapped up to the eyes in their fur cloaks. these sledges are very low, and hold at most two persons. it very often happens that the body part upsets without the driver's perceiving it; the accident is not at all dangerous; but it must be exceedingly annoying to the traveller, as he rolls in the snow, to see his sledge borne away from him at full speed, leaving him no help for it but to follow on foot. if the driver does not take the precaution to look back from time to time, the traveller may chance to run all the way to the next station, and it may be imagined in what a plight he arrives there. when the accident happens by night the case is still more serious. many russians have told us that they had thus lost their way, and only after a day or two's search had found the station where their sledge had arrived empty. nothing, indeed, is more common than to lose one's way in the steppes, nor is it at all necessary to that end that one should fall out of his sledge. we ourselves were once in danger of roaming about all night in the neighbourhood of kherson in search of our road, which we could not find. a very dense fog surprised us at sunset, scarcely five versts from the town. for a long time we went on at random, not knowing whether we were going north or south, and heaven knows where we should have found ourselves at last, if we had not caught the sound of horses' bells. the travellers put us on the right way, and told us it was ten o'clock, and we had twelve versts between us and kherson. chapter xxxiv. departure for the crimea--balaclava--visit to the monastery of st. george--sevastopol--the imperial fleet. after a winter spent in the pleasures of repose, we left odessa at the end of april to visit the crimea, on board the _julia_, a handsome brig, owned and commanded by m. taitbout de marigny. our departure was extremely brilliant. the two cannons of the _julia_, and those of the _little mary_, that was to sail in company with us, announced to the whole town that we were about to weigh anchor. our passage could not fail to be agreeable under such a captain as ours. m. taitbout de marigny, consul of the netherlands, joins to the varied acquirements of the man of science all the accomplishments of the artist and man of the world. the voyage was very short, but full of chances and incidents; we had sea-sickness, squalls, clear moonlight nights, and a little of all the pains and pleasures of the sea. on the second morning, the sun shining brightly, we began to discern the coast of that land, surnamed inhospitable by the ancients, by reason of the horrible custom of its inhabitants to massacre every stranger whom chance or foul weather led thither. the woes of orestes alone would suffice to render the tauris celebrated. who is there that has not been moved by that terrible and pathetic drama, of which the brother and sister were the hero and heroine on this desert shore! as soon as i could distinguish the line of rocks that vaguely marked the horizon, i began to look for cape parthenike, on which tradition places the temple of the goddess of whom iphigenia was the priestess, and where she was near immolating her brother. with the captain's aid i at last descried on a point of rock at a great distance from us a solitary chapel, which i was informed was dedicated to the virgin. what a contrast between the gentle worship of mary and that of the sanguinary taura, who exacted for offerings not the simple prayers and _ex voto_ of the mariner, but human victims! all this part of the coast is sterile and desert: a wall of rock extended before us, and seemed to shut us out from the peninsula so often conquered and ravaged by warlike and commercial nations. richly endowed by nature, the tauris, chersonese, or crimea, has always been coveted by the people of europe and asia. pastoral nations have contended for possession of its mountains; commercial nations for its ports and its renowned bosphorus; warlike peoples have pitched their tents amid its magnificent valleys; all have coveted a footing on that soil, to which greek civilisation has attached such brilliant memories. during a part of the day the wind was contrary, and obliged us to make short tacks in view of the rocky wall; but at four o'clock a change of wind allowed the brig to approach the coast. the sea was like a magnificent basin reflecting in its transparent waters the great calcareous masses that overhung it. it was a fine spectacle; but our captain's serious expression of countenance, and the intentness with which he watched the sails, and directed the manoeuvres, plainly showed that our situation was one of difficulty, if not of danger. a boat was manned and sent off to explore the coast, and as its white sail gleamed at a distance in the sun, it looked like a seabird in search of its nest in the hollow of some rock. the _little mary_ imitated all our evolutions, skimming over the waves like a sea swallow. she shortened her trip at every tack, and kept closer and closer to us; and our captain's face grew more and more grave, until all at once to our great surprise the rock opened before us like a scene in a theatre, and afforded us a passage which two vessels could not have entered abreast. having got fairly through the channel, m. taitbout was himself again. this entrance he told us is very dangerous in stormy weather, and often impracticable even when the wind is but moderately fresh. the scene, however, on which it opens is extremely beautiful. the port is surrounded with mountains, the highest of which still bear traces of the old genoese dominion, and in front of the entrance is the pretty greek town of balaclava, with its balconied houses and trees rising in terraces one above the other. a ruined fortress overlooks the town: from that elevated point the genoese, once masters of this whole coast, scanned the sea like birds of prey, and woe to the foreign vessels tempest driven within their range! balaclava, with its greek population, its girdle of rocks, and its mild climate, resembles those little towns of the archipelago that are seen specking the horizon as one sails towards constantinople. while we remained on board waiting for the completion of the custom-house formalities, we were entertained with the most picturesque and animated scene imaginable. it was sunday, and the whole population was scattered over the shore and the adjoining heights. groups of sailors, arnaouts, and girls as gracefully formed as those of the grecian isles, were ascending the steep path to the fortress, or were dancing to the shrill music of a balalaika. all the balconies were filled with spectators, who were busy, no doubt, discussing the apparition of a brig in their port; for the trade of balaclava, so flourishing under the genoese, is now fallen to such a degree that the arrival of a single vessel is an event for the whole town. balaclava, the cembalo of the genoese, is now the humble capital of a little greek colony founded in the reign of catherine ii., and now numbering several villages with families. during her wars with the porte, the empress thought of appealing to the national sentiments of the greeks, and their hatred of the turks. the result answered her expectations, and russia soon had a large naval force that displayed the most signal bravery in all its encounters with the enemy. when the campaign against turkey was ended, the greek auxiliaries took part in the military operations in the crimea; and after the conquest of the peninsula, they were employed in suppressing the revolts of the tatars, and striking terror into them by the sanguinary cruelty of their expeditions. it was at that period the mussulmans of the crimea gave them the name of arnaouts, which they have retained ever since. the peninsula having been finally subjugated, the greeks were formed into a regimental colony, with the town and territory of balaclava for their residence. they now number fighting men, who are only employed in guarding the coasts. the colonist is only liable to be called out for active service during four months in the year; the other eight he has at his own disposal for the cultivation of his lands. each soldier has twenty-eight rubles yearly pay, and finds his own equipment. the day after our arrival at balaclava we made a boating excursion to examine the geology of the coast, and landed in a beautiful little cove lined with flowering trees and shrubs. on our return the boatmen made themselves coronals of hawthorn and blossoming apple sprays, and decorated the boat with garlands of the same, and in this festive style we made our entry into balaclava. in our poetic enthusiasm as we looked on the lovely sky, the placid sea, and the greek mariners, who thus retained on a foreign shore, and after the lapse of so many centuries, the cheerful customs of their ancestors, we could not help comparing ourselves to one of the numerous deputations that used every year to enter the pyræus, with their vessels' prows festooned with flowers, to take part in the brilliant festivals of athens. we bade adieu that day to our excellent friend m. taitbout de marigny, who continued his cruise to ialta, where we were again to meet him. we set out for the convent of st. george, our minds filled with classical reminiscences, which fortified us to endure the horrible bumping of our pereclatnoi. this vehicle is a sort of low four-wheeled cart, so narrow as barely to accommodate two persons, who have nothing to sit on but boxes and packages laid on a great heap of hay. it is no easy matter to keep one's balance on such a seat, especially when the frail equipage is galloped along from post to post at the full speed of three stout horses. yet this is the manner in which most russians travel, and often for a week together, day and night. the road from balaclava to the monastery presents no striking features; it runs over a vast plateau, as barren as the steppes. a little before sunset we were quite close to the convent, but saw nothing indicative of its existence, and were, therefore, not a little surprised when the driver jumped down and told us to alight. we thought he was making game of us, when he led the way into an arched passage, but when we reached the further end a cry of admiration escaped our lips, as we beheld the monastery with its cells backed against the rock, its green-domed church, its terraces and blooming gardens, suspended several hundred feet above the sea. long did we remain wrapt in contemplation of the magic effect produced by man's labour on a scene that looked in its savage and contorted aspect as if it had been destined only to be the domain of solitude. the russian and greek monasteries are far from displaying the monumental appearance of the western convents. they consist only of a group of small houses of one story, built without symmetry, and with nothing about them denoting the austere habits of a religious community. those poetic souls who find such food for meditation in the long galleries of the cloisters, could not easily be reconciled to such a disregard for form. the monks received us not like christians, but like downright pagans. the bishop, for whom we had letters, happening to be absent, we fell into the hands of two or three surly-looking friars, whose dirty dress and red faces indicated habits any thing but monastic. they confined us in a disgustingly filthy hole, where a few crazy chairs, two or three rough planks on tressels, and a nasty candle stuck in a bottle, were all the accommodation we obtained from their munificence. our dragoman could not even get coals to boil the kettle without paying for it double what it was worth. when we remonstrated with the monks their invariable answer was, that they were not bound to provide us with any thing but the bare furniture of the table. such was their notion of the duties of hospitality. with our bones aching from the pereclatnoi we were obliged to content ourselves with a few cups of tea by way of supper, and to lie down on the execrable planks they had the assurance to call a bed. fortunately, the bishop returned next day, and we got a cleaner room, mattresses, pillows, plenty to eat, and more respectful treatment on the part of the monks; but all this could not reconcile us to men who had such a curious way of practising the precepts of the gospel. the few days we spent among them were enough to enable us to judge of the degree of ignorance and moral degradation in which they live. religion which, in default of instruction, ought at least to mould their souls to the christian virtues, and to love of their neighbours, has no influence over them. they do not understand it, and their gross instincts find few impediments in the statutes of their order. sloth, drunkenness, and fanaticism, stand them instead of faith, love, and charity. the great steepness of this part of the coast renders the descent to the sea extremely difficult. we tried it, however, and with a good deal of hard work we scrambled down to the beach, which is here only a few yards wide. magnificent volcanic rocks form in this place a natural colonnade, the base of which is constantly washed by the sea, whilst every craggy point is tenanted by marine birds, the only living creatures to be seen. on our return to the convent we found it full of beggars who had come for the annual festival that was to be held on the day but one following. cake and fruit-sellers, gipsies and tatars, had set up their booths and tents on the plateau; every thing betokened that the solemnity would be very brilliant, but we had not the curiosity to wait for it. we set out that evening for stavropol, glad to get away from a convent in which hospitality is not bestowed freely, but sold. on leaving the monastery we proceeded first of all in the direction of cape khersonese, the most western point of this classic land, where flourished, for more than twelve centuries, the celebrated colony of kherson, founded by the heracleans years b. c. at present the only remains of all its greatness are a few heaps of shapeless stones; and strange to relate, the people who put the last hand to the destruction of whatever had escaped the barbarian invasions and the mussulman sway, was the same whose conversion to christianity in the person of the grand duke vladimir, was celebrated by kherson in . when the russians entered the crimea some considerable architectural remains were still standing, among which were the principal gate of the town and its two towers, and a large portion of the walls; besides which there were shafts and capitals of columns, numerous inscriptions and three churches of the lower empire, half buried under the soil. but muscovite vandalism quickly swept away all these remains. a quarantine establishment for the new port of sevastopol was constructed on the site of the ancient heraclean town, and all the existing vestiges of its monuments were rapidly demolished and carried away stone by stone; and but for the direct interference of the emperor alexander, who caused a few inscriptions to be deposited in the museum of nicolaief, there would be nothing remaining in our day to attest the existence of one of the most opulent cities of the northern coasts of the black sea. at a short distance from cape khersonese begins that succession of ports which render this point of the crimea so important to russia; one of them is sevastopol, whence the imperial fleet commands the whole of the black sea, and incessantly threatens the existence of the sultan's empire. between cape khersonese and the sevastopol roads which comprise three important ports, there are six distinct bays running inland parallel to each other. first come the double bay (_dvoinaia_) and the bay of the cossack (_cozatchaia_), between which the heracleans founded their first establishment, no trace of which now exists. then comes the round bay (_kruglaia_), that of the butts (_strelezkaia_), and that of the sands (_pestchannaia_). these five are all abandoned, and are only used by vessels driven by stress of weather to seek shelter in them. it was in the space between the bay of the sands and that more to the west where the quarantine is established, that the celebrated kherson once stood. a little beyond the quarantine cove, the traveller discovers sevastopol, situated on the slope of a hill between artillery and south bays, the first two ports on the right hand as you enter the main roads. the position of the town thus built in an amphitheatre, renders its whole plan discernible at one view, and gives it a very grand appearance from a distance. its barracks and stores, the extensive buildings of the admiralty, the numerous churches, and vast ship-building docks and yards, attest the importation of this town, the creation of which dates only from the arrival of the russians in the crimea. the interior, though not quite corresponding to the brilliant panorama it presents from a distance, is yet worthy of the great naval station. the streets are large, the houses handsome, and the population, in consequence of an imperial ukase which excludes the jews from its territory, is much less repulsive than that of odessa, kherson, iekaterinoslav, &c. the port of sevastopol is unquestionably one of the most remarkable in europe. it owes all its excellence to nature, which has here, without the aid of art, provided a magnificent roadstead with ramifications, forming so many basins admirably adapted for the requirements of a naval station. the whole of this noble harbour may be seen at once from the upper part of the town. the great roadstead first attracts attention. it lies east and west, stretching seven kilometres (four miles and three-quarters) inland, with a mean breadth of yards, and serves as a station for all the active part of the fleet. it forms the medium of communication between sevastopol and the interior of the peninsula. the northern shore presents only a line of cliffs of no interest, but on the southern shore the eye is detained by the fine basins formed there by nature. to the east, at the very foot of the hill on which the town stands, is south bay, in length upwards of mètres, and completely sheltered by high limestone cliffs. it is here the vessels are rigged and unrigged; and here, too, lies a long range of pontoons and vessels past service, some of which are converted into magazines, and others into lodgings for some thousand convicts who are employed in the works of the arsenal. among these numerous veterans of a naval force that is almost always idle, the traveller beholds with astonishment the colossal ship, the _paris_, formerly mounting guns, and which was, down to , the finest vessel in the imperial fleet. beyond south bay, and communicating with it, is the little creek in which the government is constructing the most considerable works of the port, and has been engaged for many years in forming an immense dock with five distinct basins, capable of accommodating three ships of the line and two frigates, while simultaneously undergoing repairs. the original plan for this great work was devised by m. raucourt, a french engineer, who estimated the total cost at about , , rubles. the magnitude of this sum alarmed the government, but at the instance of count voronzof, they accepted the proposals of an english engineer, who asked only , , , and promised to complete the whole within five years. the work was begun on the th of june, ; but when we visited sevastopol, some years after the first stone had been laid, the job was not half finished, and the expenses already exceeded , , rubles. the execution of the basins seems, however, to be very far from corresponding to the enormous expenses they have already occasioned, and it is strange, indeed, that a weak and friable limestone should have been employed in hydraulic constructions of such importance. the angles of the walls, it is true, are of granite or porphyry, but this odd association of heterogeneous materials conveys, in itself, the severest condemnation of the mode of construction which has been adopted. highly favoured as is the port of sevastopol with regard to the form and the security of its bays, it yet labours under very serious inconveniences. the waters swarm with certain worms that attack the ships' bottoms, and often make them unserviceable in two or three years. to avoid this incurable evil, the government determined to fill the basins with fresh water, by changing the course of the little river, tchernoi retchka, which falls into the head of the main gulf. three aqueducts and two tunnels, built like the rest of the works in chalk, and forming part of the artificial channel, were nearly completed in ; but about that period the engineers endured a very sad discomfiture, it being then demonstrated that the worms they wanted to get rid of were produced by nothing else than the muddy waters which the tchernoi retchka pours into the harbour.[ ] artillery bay, which bounds the town on the west, is used only by trading vessels. this and careening bay, the most eastern of all, are not inferior in natural advantages to the two others we have been speaking of; but we have nothing more particular to mention respecting them. after discussing the harbours and the works belonging to them, we are naturally led to glance at the war-fleet, and the famous fortifications of which the russians are so proud, and which they regard as a marvel of modern art. in , when the july revolution was threatening to upset the whole _status quo_ of europe, a london journal stated in an article on the black sea and southern russia, that nothing could be easier than for a few well-appointed vessels to set fire to the imperial fleet in the port of sevastopol. the article alarmed the emperor's council to the highest degree, and orders were immediately issued for the construction of immense defensive works. four new forts were constructed, making a total of eleven batteries. forts constantine and alexander were erected for the defence of the great harbour, the one on the north, the other on the west side of artillery bay; and the admiralty and the paul batteries were to play on vessels attempting to enter south bay, or ships' bay. these four forts, consisting each of three tiers of batteries, and each mounting from to pieces of artillery, constitute the chief defences of the place, and appear, at first sight, truly formidable. but here again, the reality does not correspond with the outer appearance, and we are of opinion that all these costly batteries are more fitted to astonish the vulgar in time of peace, than to awe the enemy in war. in the first place their position at some height above the level of the sea, and their three stories appear to us radically bad, and practical men will agree with us that a hostile squadron might make very light of the three tiers of guns which, when pointed horizontally, could, at most, only hit the rigging of the ships. the internal arrangements struck us as equally at variance with all the rules of military architecture: each story consists of a suite of rooms opening one upon the other, and communicating by a small door, with an outer gallery that runs the whole length of the building. all these rooms, in which the guns are worked, are so narrow, and the ventilation is so ill-contrived, that we are warranted by our own observation in asserting that a few discharges would make it extremely difficult for the artillerymen to do their duty. but a still more serious defect than those we have named, and one which endangers the whole existence of the works, consists in the general system adopted for their construction. here the improvidence of the government has been quite as great as with regard to the dock basins: for the imperial engineers have thought proper to employ small pieces of coarse limestone in the masonry of three-storied batteries, mounting from to guns. the works, too, have been constructed with so little care, and the dimensions of the walls and arches are so insufficient, that it is easy to see at a glance, that all these batteries must inevitably be shaken to pieces whenever their numerous artillery shall be brought into play. the trials that have been made in fort constantine, have already demonstrated the correctness of this opinion, wide rents having been there occasioned in the walls by a few discharges. finally, all the forts labour under the disadvantage of being utterly defenceless on the land side. thinking only of attacks by sea, the government has quite overlooked the great facility with which an enemy may land on any part of the coast of the khersonese. so, besides that the batteries are totally destitute of artillery and ditches on the land side, the town itself is open on all points, and is not defended by a single redoubt. we know not what works have been planned or executed since ; but at the period of our visit a force of some thousand men, aided by a maritime demonstration, would have had no sort of difficulty in forcing their way into the interior of the place, and setting fire to the fleet and the arsenals. we have now to speak of the offensive strength of the port of sevastopol, that famous fleet always in readiness to sail against constantinople. the effective of the black sea fleet, in , was as follows:-- ships of the line , of guns, the rest of frigates mounting guns corvettes " brigs " to schooners cutters steamers tenders the largest tenders are of tons' burden, the smallest thirty. the crews, making together fourteen battalions, ought to be , strong. but we know that in russia official figures are always much higher than the reality. we think we cannot be far wrong in setting down the actual strength at or men. like every thing else in russia, the ships of war look very imposing at first sight, but will not bear a very close scrutiny. after what we have stated respecting the venality of the administrative departments, it is easy to conceive the malversations that must abound in the naval arsenals. in vain may the government lavish its money and order the purchase of the needful materials; its intentions are sure to be baffled by the corruption and rapacity of its servants. the vessels are generally built of worthless materials, and there is no kind of peculation but is practised in their construction. we have mentioned the _paris_ as an instance of the short duration of russian ships: and all the vessels of the same period are in nearly as bad a plight. a single cruise has been enough to make them unserviceable. we must, however, admit that the naval boards are not alone to blame for this rapid destruction. according to the information we have received, it appears that the ships are built generally of pine or fir; but every one knows that these kinds of wood, produced in moist places and low bottoms, cannot possess the solidity required in naval architecture. before quitting sevastopol we made an excursion to the head of the great bay, to visit the remains of a once celebrated town, of which nothing now remains but some ruins known under the name inkermann. we explored with some interest a long suite of crypts, some of which seem to belong to the remotest antiquity, while others evidently date from the lower empire. among the latter we particularly noticed a large chapel, excavated wholly in the rock, and presenting in its interior all the characteristics of the byzantine churches. above all these subterraneous edifices, on the highest part of the rocks, stand some fragments of walls, the sole remains of the castle and town that formerly crowned those heights. the ruins appear to occupy the site of the ancient eupatorion of strabo, which afterwards, under the name of theodori, became the seat of a little greek principality dependent on the lower empire. it was taken by the turks in , and soon afterwards totally destroyed. footnotes: [ ] see notes at the end of the volume. chapter xxxv. bagtche serai--historical revolutions of the crimea--the palace of the khans--countess potocki. after our excursion to inkermann we left sevastopol the same day, glad to quit the russians and their naval capital for bagtche serai, that ancient city, which previously to the muscovite conquest might still vie in power and opulence with the great cities of the east. even now, though much decayed, bagtche serai is the most interesting town in the crimea. the road which leads to it runs parallel with a mountain chain, and commands very beautiful scenery, which we beheld in all the fresh luxuriance of may. the hills and valleys were clothed with forests of peach, almond, apple, and apricot trees in full blossom, and the south wind came to us loaded with their fragrance. we had many a flying glimpse of landscapes we would willingly have paused to admire in detail, but the pereclatnoi whirled us along, and towns, hillsides, winding brooks, farms, meadows, and tatar villages shot past us with magic rapidity. notwithstanding a temperature of ° reaumer, the day appeared to us very short. yet we were impatient to see bagtche serai, its palace and its fountains which have been sung by pushkin, the russian nightingale; and this impatience, which increased as we approached our journey's end, prevented us from visiting different spots which less hasty travellers would not have disdained. every mountain, valley, or village has some peculiar interest of its own. there were aqueducts, old bridges, and half-ruined towers in every direction to tell of an ancient civilisation; but all these interested us less, perhaps, than the modest dwelling in which pallas long resided, and where he ended his days. bagtche serai has completely retained its national character in consequence of an ukase of catherine ii., empowering the tatars to retain exclusive possession of their own capital. you would fancy yourself in the heart of the east, in walking through the narrow streets of the town, the mosques, shops, and cemeteries of which so much resemble those of the old quarters of constantinople. but it is especially in the courts, gardens, and kiosks of the harem of the old palace, that the traveller may well believe himself transported into some delicious abode of aleppo or bagdad. it was in , that the mongol or tatar hordes led by batu khan, grandson of genghis khan, after invading russia, poland, and hungary, made their first appearance in the crimea, and laid the foundations of the tatar kingdom, which was soon to attain a high degree of power. the genoese about the same time took possession of several important points on the southern coast, and founded caffa and other towns, which became extremely flourishing seats of commerce. their prosperity lasted until , when the turks, already masters of constantinople, drove the genoese out of the crimea, and took under their protection the khans of little tatary, who became vassals of the porte, whilst retaining their absolute sway over the crimea. from that time until the eighteenth century, the history of the peninsula is but a long series of contests between the ottomans, the tatars, and the muscovites. russia, coveting this fine country, took advantage of its continual revolutions, and sent a large army thither in , for the purpose of putting the young prince saheb guerai on the throne. by this stroke of policy, she took the crimea out of the hands of the porte, and brought it under her own sole protection. in return for the empress's good offices, saheb guerai ceded to her the towns of kertch, yeni kaleh, and kalbouroun, very advantageously situated on the dniepr. in this way russia took the first steps towards the celebrated treaty of kainardji of , which conceded to her the free navigation of all the seas dependent on the turkish dominions. but it was not until , that her sway was irrevocably established in the peninsula, and the tatars submitted to a yoke against which they had so often and so boldly struggled. during the brilliant period in which the khans reigned in the crimea, the seat of government alternated between eski krim and tchoufout kaleh, until the beginning of the sixteenth century, when bagtche serai was made the capital. one would hardly recognise in the simple and orderly tatars of the present day, the descendants of those fierce mongols who imposed their sway on a part of western europe. there is a great difference between the tatars of the coast and those of the mountains. the former have been rendered covetous, knavish, and treacherous by their continual intercourse with the russians; whilst their mountain brethren have retained the patriarchal manners that distinguish the asiatic peoples. their hospitality is most generous. the tatar's best room, and the best which his house and his table can afford, are offered to his guest with a cordial alacrity that forbids the very idea of a refusal; and he would deem it an insult to be offered any other payment than a friendly grasp of the hand. the tatar women, without being handsome, display a timid grace that makes them singularly engaging. in public they wear a long white veil, the two ends of which hang over their shoulders, and they are particularly remarkable for their complete freedom from every appearance of vulgarity. we saw none at bagtche serai, but those of the poorer classes; the women of the mourzas (nobles), and beys (princes) live quite retired and never show themselves in public. but to return to the palace of bagtche serai. it is no easy task to describe the charm of this mysterious and splendid abode, in which the voluptuous khans forgot all the cares of life: it is not to be done, as in the case of one of our palaces, by analysing the style, arrangement, and details of the rich architecture, and reading the artist's thought in the regularity, grace, and noble simplicity of the edifice: all this is easy to understand and to describe: such beauties are more or less appreciable by every one. but one must be something of a poet to appreciate a turkish palace; its charms must be sought, not in what one sees, but in what one feels. i have heard persons speak very contemptuously of bagtche serai. "how," said they, "can any one apply the name of palace to that assemblage of wooden houses, daubed with coarse paintings, and furnished only with divans and carpets?" and these people were right in their way. the positive cast of their minds disabling them from seeing beauty in any thing but rich materials, well-defined forms and highly-finished workmanship, bagtche serai must be to them only a group of shabby houses adorned with paltry ornaments, and fit only for the habitation of miserable tatars. situated in the centre of the town, in a valley enclosed between hills of unequal heights, the palace (serai) covers a considerable space, and is enclosed within walls, and a small stream deeply entrenched. the bridge which affords admission into the principal court is guarded by a post of russian veterans. the spacious court is planted with poplars and lilacs, and adorned with a beautiful turkish fountain, shaded by willows; its melancholy murmur harmonises well with the loneliness of the place. to the right as you enter are some buildings, one of which is set apart for the use of those travellers who are fortunate enough to gain admittance into the palace. to the left are the mosque, the stables, and the trees of the cemetery, which is divided from the court by a wall. we first visited the palace properly so called. its exterior displays the usual irregularity of eastern dwellings; but its want of symmetry is more than compensated for by its wide galleries, its bright decorations, its pavilions so lightly fashioned that they seem scarcely attached to the body of the building, and by a profusion of large trees that shade it on all sides. these all invest it with a charm, that in my opinion greatly surpasses the systematic regularity of our princely abodes. the interior is an embodied page out of the arabian nights. the first hall we entered contains the celebrated fountain of tears, the theme of pushkin's beautiful verses. it derives its melancholy name from the sweet sad murmur of its slender jets as they fall on the marble of the basin. the sombre and mysterious aspect of the hall, further augments the tendency of the spectator's mind to forget reality for the dreams of the imagination. the foot falls noiselessly on fine egyptian mats; the walls are inscribed with sentences from the koran, written in gold on a black ground in those odd-looking turkish characters, that seem more the caprices of an idle fancy than vehicles of thought. from the hall we entered a large reception-room with a double row of windows of stained glass, representing all sorts of rural scenes. the ceiling and doors are richly gilded, and the workmanship of the latter is very fine. broad divans covered with crimson velvet run all round the room. in the middle there is a fountain playing in a large porphyry basin. every thing is magnificent in this room, except the whimsical manner in which the walls are painted. all that the most fertile imagination could conceive in the shape of isles, villages, harbours, fabulous castles, and so forth, is huddled together promiscuously on the walls, without any more regard for perspective than for geography. nor is this all: there are niches over the doors in which are collected all sorts of children's toys, such as wooden houses a few inches high, fruit trees, models of ships, little figures of men twisted into a thousand contortions, &c. these singular curiosities are arranged on receding shelves for the greater facility of inspection, and are carefully protected by glass cases. one of the last khans, we were assured, used to shut himself up in this room every day to admire these interesting objects. such childishness, common among the orientals, would lead us to form a very unfavourable opinion of their intelligence, if it was not redeemed by their instinctive love of beauty, and the poetic feeling which they possess in a high degree. for my part i heartily forgave the khans for having painted their walls so queerly, in consideration of the charming fountain that plashed on the marble, and the little garden filled with rare flowers adjoining the saloon. the hall of the divan is of royal magnificence; the mouldings of the ceiling, in particular, are of exquisite delicacy. we passed through other rooms adorned with fountains and glowing colours, but that which most interested us was the apartment of the beautiful countess potocki. it was her strange fortune to inspire with a violent passion one of the last khans of the crimea, who carried her off and made her absolute mistress of his palace, in which she lived ten years, her heart divided between her love for an infidel, and the remorse that brought her prematurely to the grave. the thought of her romantic fate gave a magic charm to every thing we beheld. the russian officer who acted as our cicerone pointed out to us a cross carved on the chimney of the bed-room. the mystic symbol, placed above a crescent, eloquently interpreted the emotions of a life of love and grief. what tears, what inward struggles, and bitter recollections had it not witnessed! we passed through i know not how many gardens and inner yards, surrounded with high walls, to visit the various pavilions, kiosks, and buildings of all sorts comprised within the limits of the palace. the part occupied by the harem contains such a profusion of rose-trees and fountains as to merit the pleasing name of the little valley of roses. nothing can be more charming than this tatar building, surrounded by blossoming trees. i felt a secret pleasure in pressing the divans on which had rested the fair forms of mussulman beauties, as they breathed the fresh air from the fountains in voluptuous repose. no sound from without can reach this enchanted retreat, where nothing is heard but the rippling of the waters, and the song of the nightingales. we counted more than twenty fountains in the courts and gardens; they all derive their supply from the mountains, and the water is of extreme coolness. a tower of considerable height, with a terrace fronted with gratings that can be raised or lowered at pleasure, overlooks the principal court. it was erected to enable the khan's wives to witness, unseen, the martial exercises practised in the court. the prospect from the terrace is admirable; immediately below it you have a bird's-eye view of the labyrinth of buildings, gardens, and other enclosures. further on the town of bagtche serai rises gradually on a sloping amphitheatre of hills. the sounds of the whole town, concentrated and reverberated within the narrow space, reach you distinctly. the panorama is peculiarly pleasing at the close of the day, when the voices of the muezzins, calling to prayer from the minarets, mingle with the bleating of the flocks returning from pasture, and the cries of the shepherds. after seeing the palace we repaired to the mosque and to the cemetery in which are the tombs of all the khans who have reigned in the crimea. there as at constantinople, i admired the wonderful art with which the orientals disguise the gloomy idea of death under fresh and gladsome images. who can yield to dismal thoughts as he breathes a perfumed air, listens to the waters of a sparkling fountain, and follows the little paths, edged with violets, that lead to lilac groves bending their flagrant blossoms over tombs adorned with rich carpets and gorgeous inscriptions? the tatar who has charge of this smiling abode of death, prompted by the poetic feeling that is lodged in the bosom of every oriental, brought me a nosegay plucked from the tomb of a georgian, the beloved wife of the last khan. was it not a touching thing to see this humble guardian of the cemetery comprehend instinctively that flowers, associated with the memory of a young woman, could not be indifferent to another of her sex and age? some isolated pavilions contain the tombs of khans of most eminent renown. they are much more ornate than the others, and the care with which they are kept up testifies the pious veneration of the tatars. carpets, cashmeres, lamps burning continually, and inscriptions in letters of gold, combine to give grandeur to these monuments, which yet are intended to commemorate only names almost forgotten. such is a brief sketch of this ancient abode of the khans, which was carefully repaired by the emperor alexander. he found it in such a state of disorder and neglect, that it was probable nothing would remain in a few years of a dwelling with which is associated almost the whole past history of the crimea. but alexander, whose temperament was so well adapted to appreciate the melancholy beauty of the spot, immediately on his return to st. petersburg sent a very able man to bagtche serai, with orders to restore the palace to the state in which it had been in the time of the khans. since then the imperial family has sometimes exchanged the dreary magnificence of the st. petersburg palaces for the rosy bowers and sunny clime of the tatar serai. in speaking of this tatar town, i must not forget to mention a man known throughout the crimea for his eccentricity. it is about twelve years since a dutchman of the name of vanderschbrug, a retired civil engineer in the imperial service, arrived in the tatar capital with the intention of settling there. his motive for this act of misanthropy has never been ascertained; all that is known is, that his resolution has remained unshaken. since his installation among the tatars, major vanderschbrug has never set his foot outside the town, though his family reside in simpheropol. his retiring pension, amounting to some hundred rubles, allows him to lead a life, which to many persons would seem very uninviting, but which is not devoid of a certain charm. the complete independence he has secured for himself, makes up to him, in some sort, for the void he must feel in the loss of family affection. he lives like a philosopher in his little cottage, with his cow, his poultry, his pencils, some books, and an old housekeeper. he speaks the language of the tatars like one of themselves, and his thorough knowledge of the country, and the originality of his mind render his conversation very agreeable. all over the country he is known only by the name of the hermit of bagtche serai. the tatars hold him in great respect, often refer their disputes to his decision, and implicitly follow his advice. we breakfasted with him, and seeing him apparently so contented with his lot, we thought how little is sufficient to make a man happy when his desires are limited. major vanderschbrug beguiles his solitude with reading and the arts, for which he has preserved a taste. he showed us some fine water-coloured drawings he had made, and an old volume of jean jacques rousseau, which he has kept for many years as a precious treasure. to all the objections we raised against the strange exile to which he condemned himself, he replied that ennui had not yet invaded his humble dwelling. before bidding farewell to bagtche serai, we went in company with our recluse to visit the valley of jehoshaphat and the famous mountain of tchoufout kaleh,[ ] which has been for several centuries the exclusive property of certain jews, known by the name of karaïmes or karaïtes. they are a sect who still adhere to the law of moses, but who separated from the general body, as some writers suppose, several centuries before the christian era. according to other authorities, the separation did not occur until a.d. . there is a marked difference between them and the other jews. the simplicity of their manners, their probity and industry give them a strong claim to the traveller's respect. at six in the morning we mounted our little tatar horses, and began to ascend the steep road that winds through a vast cemetery, covering the whole side of the mountain. the melancholy aspect of the tombs, covered with hebrew inscriptions, accords with the desolation of the scene. of the whole population, that during the lapse of ages have lived and died on this rock, nothing remains but tombs, and a dozen families that persist, from religious motives, in dwelling among ruins. in the time of the khans, the karaïtes of tchoufout kaleh were stoutly confined to their rock, being only allowed to pass the business hours of the day in the tatar capital, returning every evening to their mountain. when one of them arrived opposite the palace on horseback, he was bound to alight and proceed on foot until he was out of sight. but since the conquest by the russians, the karaïtes are free to reside in bagtche serai, and they have gradually left the mountain, with the exception, as i have stated, of a few families who regard it as a sacred duty to abide on the spot where their forefathers dwelt. considering the almost inaccessible position of the town, its want of water, the sterility of the soil, and the loneliness of the inhabitants, we cannot fail to be struck by the thirst for freedom that made the karaïtes of yore choose such a site, and the constancy of the families that still cling to it. tchoufout kaleh is built entirely on the bare rock, and the mountain is so steep that in the only place where it admits of access, it has been necessary to cut flights of steps several hundred feet long. as you ascend, huge masses of overhanging rocks seem to threaten you with destruction, and when you enter the ruined town, the sepulchral silence and desolation of its dilapidated streets make a painful impression on the mind. no inhabitant comes forth to greet the stranger or direct him on his way. the only living beings we saw abroad were famished dogs that howled most dismally. besides the interest we felt in this acropolis of the middle ages, we had a still stronger motive for our journey to tchoufout kaleh; namely, to see a poet who has resided from his youth upwards on that dreary rock. we had heard a great deal about it from m. taitbout de marigny and from major vanderschbrug; the first point, therefore, towards which we bent our steps was the rabbi's dwelling, built like an eagle's nest on the point of a rock. being shown into a small room furnished with books and maps, we found ourselves in presence of a little old man with a long white beard who received us with the grave and easy dignity of the orientals. his features were of the most purely jewish cast. with the help of the major, who acted as our interpreter, we were enabled to carry on a long conversation, and to admire the varied knowledge possessed by a man so completely cut off from the world. is it not wonderful that a person in such a position, and so totally deprived of all necessary appliances, should undertake the gigantic task of writing the history of the karaïtes from the time of moses to our days? yet thus our rabbi has been employed for upward of twenty years, undismayed by the difficulties of all kinds that lie in his way. it was not a little moving to see a man of great intellect, vast erudition, and poetic imagination, wearing out on a desolate rock the remains of a life which would have been so fair and so productive if passed in more active scenes. he showed us several sacred poems in manuscript written in his youth. how much i regretted that i could not read the productions of such a poet. he lives like a patriarch surrounded by ten or a dozen children of all ages who enliven and embellish his solitude. several little rooms communicating together by galleries form his dwelling. it is very humble, but the rabbi's remarkable physiognomy, and the oriental costume of his wife and daughters, impart a charm even to so rude a tenement. he escorted us to the synagogue, a small building, long left to solitude. we saw, too, not without a lively interest, the grave of a khan's daughter, who, in the time of the genoese rule, forsook the koran for the law of the christians, and died at the age of eighteen among those who had converted her. like every thing else about it, it was in a state of neglect and decay. all the lower part of the mountain, and also a deep narrow valley stretching eastward of tchoufout kaleh are covered with tombs, to which circumstance the situation owes its name of valley of jehoshaphat. opposite the karaïte town is the celebrated convent of the assumption, which is annually visited in the month of august by more than twenty thousand pilgrims. its cells excavated in the rock have a very curious appearance from a distance. some wooden flights of stairs on the outside of the rock lead to the several stages of this singular convent inhabited only by a few monks. on our return to bagtche serai we noticed several crypts in the rock which are the haunt of a large number of tsiganes. nowhere does this vagrant people present a more disgusting aspect than in this locality. their horrible infirmities, distorted limbs, and indescribable wretchedness make one almost doubt that they can belong to humanity. we proceeded the next day to simpheropol where we were to pass some days. footnotes: [ ] tchoufout kaleh, formerly called kirkov, was for a long series of years the residence of the khans, until mengle gherai quitted it for bagtche serai, in . chapter xxxvi. simpheropol--kakolez--visit to princess adel bey--excursion to mangoup kaleh. under the tatars simpheropol was the second town of the crimea, and the residence of the kalga sultan, whose functions were nearly equivalent to those of vice-khan. he exercised the regency of the country on the death of the khan, until his successor was nominated by the porte. the kalga's court was composed of the same functionaries as that of bagtche serai, and his authority extended over all the regions north of the crimea mountains. simpheropol was then adorned with palaces, mosques, and fine gardens, few traces of which now remain. the tortuous streets, high walls, and rose thickets of the old city, have given place to the cold monotony of the russian towns. it is the capital of the government of the crimea, with a population of about souls, of whom are russians, tatars, strangers, and gipsies. its plan is large enough to comprise ten times as many houses as it possesses; but, at least, it retains its salghir, the banks of which are covered with the finest orchards in the crimea. but instead of building the new town in the valley, it has been set at the top of a great plateau where its few houses and its disproportionately wide streets present no kind of character. it is with extreme pleasure, therefore, that after wandering through the streets in which the sun's rays beat down without any thing to break their force, one finds himself under the cool verdant shades that fringe the salghir, with the pretty country houses that peep out from the orchards. we made many excursions in the vicinity, and were above all pleased with the beautiful landscapes in the valley of the alma. in a ride on horseback to visit some rocks of an interesting geological character, we crossed the river eighteen times in the space of three hours: this may afford an idea of the multitude of meanders it makes before continuing its course to the black sea. bagtche serai being on the road to karolez, we could not resist the pleasure of once more seeing its delightful palace. we passed the evening in one of the large galleries, admiring the magic appearance of the buildings and gardens by moonlight. the deep stillness of the place; the mysterious aspect of the principal edifice, one part of which was completely in the shade, whilst the other, with its coloured windows and its open balconies, received the full rays of the moon; the masses of foliage in the gardens, and the melancholy sounds of the fountain; all this accompanied by the imaginative relations of our eccentric friend, the major, made an indelible impression on our minds. at bagtche serai we finally exchanged the pereclatnoi for tatar horses, the serviceable qualities of which had commended themselves to us in many trials. our cavalcade made a grotesque appearance as we rode out of the palace. for my own part i looked oddly enough, perched on an enormously high tatar saddle in my caspian costume, with my parasol in my hand. hommaire wore with oriental gravity the persian cap, the girdle and the weapons, to which he had become accustomed in his long wanderings. but the queerest figure of all was our dragoman. half-a-dozen leather bags containing provisions dangled at his horse's flanks; my poor straw bonnet, which i had been obliged to abandon for a round hat, hung at the pummel of his saddle, and in addition to all this accoutrement he carried in his hand a large white canvass umbrella to screen him from the sun. two tatar horsemen followed us, carrying likewise their contingent of baggage. after some hours' riding through a lovely country, intersected with streams, valleys, and numerous orchards, we arrived in the evening at karolez, a tatar village, lost among mountains, in the valley of the same name, which is one of the most delightful spots in the beautiful crimea, so rich in picturesque scenes. though it does not belong to the southern coast, and consequently has no maritime traffic, karolez, nevertheless, possesses a romantic attraction, which every year brings to it numerous visitors. this is owing to its vicinity to mangoup kaleh, the abundance of its waters, the mountains that encompass the valley with a line of battlemented walls, as if nature had been pleased in a sportive mood to imitate art, whilst yet retaining her own more majestic proportions; and, lastly, the merit of belonging to the princess adel bey, whose beauty, though invisible has inspired many a poet. i had taken care before leaving simpheropol to furnish myself with a letter from the governor to the princess, in order to obtain an interview which might enable me to judge whether the beauty of this tatar lady and her daughters was as great as fame reported. the question had been often agitated since our arrival in the crimea; it may, therefore, be imagined how desirous i was to resolve it. but in spite of my letter of introduction, my admission to the palace was still very problematical. many russian ladies had tried in vain to enter it; for the princess, while exercising the noblest hospitality, was seldom disposed to satisfy the curiosity of her guests. though the law of mahomet respecting the seclusion of women is less rigidly observed among the tatars of the crimea than among the turks of constantinople, rich ladies do not often pass the threshold of their own dwellings, and when they do they are always closely veiled. one of my friends from simpheropol, who had proceeded the day before to the princess's, having giving notice of our coming, we were received in the most brilliant style. the guest house was prepared with the ostentation which the orientals are fond of displaying on all occasions. a double line of servants of all ages was drawn up in the vestibule when we dismounted; and one of the oldest and most richly dressed ushered us into a saloon arranged in the fashion of the east, with gaily painted walls and red silk divans that reminded us of the delightful rooms in the palace of the khans. the princess's son, an engaging boy of twelve years of age, who spoke russian very well, attached himself to us, obligingly translated our orders to the domestics, and took care that we wanted for nothing. i gave him my letter, which he immediately carried to his mother, and soon afterwards he came and told me, to my great satisfaction, that she would receive me when she had finished her toilette. in the eagerness of my curiosity i now counted every minute, until an officer, followed by an old woman in a veil, came to introduce me into the mysterious palace of which i had as yet seen only the lofty outer wall. my husband, as arranged between us beforehand, attempted to follow us, and seeing that no impediment was offered, he stepped without ceremony through the little door into the park, crossed the latter, boldly ascended a terrace adjoining the palace, and, at last, found himself, not without extreme surprise at his good fortune, in a little room that seemed to belong to the princess's private apartments. until then no male stranger except count voronzof had ever entered the palace; the flattering and unexpected exception which the princess made in favour of my husband, might, therefore, lead us to hope that her complaisance would not stop there. but we were soon undeceived. the officer who had ushered us into the palace, after having treated us to iced water, sweetmeats and pipes, took my husband by the hand, and led him out of the room with very significant celerity. he had no sooner disappeared than a curtain was raised at the end of the room, and a woman of striking beauty entered, dressed in a rich costume. she advanced to me with an air of remarkable dignity, took both my hands, kissed me on the two cheeks, and sat down beside me, making me many demonstrations of friendship. she wore a great deal of rouge; her eyelids were painted black and met over the nose, giving her countenance a certain sternness, that, nevertheless, did not destroy its pleasing effect. a furred velvet vest fitted tight to her still elegant figure. altogether her appearance surpassed what i had conceived of her beauty. we spent a quarter of an hour closely examining each other, and interchanging as well as we could a few russian words that very insufficiently conveyed our thoughts. but in such cases, looks supply the deficiencies of speech, and mine must have told the princess with what admiration i beheld her. hers, i must confess, in all humility, seemed to express much more surprise than admiration at my travelling costume. what would i not have given to know the result of her purely feminine analysis of my appearance! i was even crossed in this _tête-à-tête_ by a serious scruple of conscience for having presented myself before her in male attire, which must have given her a strange notion of the fashions of europe. notwithstanding my desire to prolong my visit in hopes of seeing her daughters, the fear of appearing intrusive prompted me to take my leave; but checking me with a very graceful gesture, she said eagerly "_pastoy, pastoy_" (stay, stay), and clapped her hands several times. a young girl entered at the signal, and by her mistress's orders threw open a folding door, and immediately i was struck dumb with surprise and admiration by a most brilliant apparition. imagine, reader, the most exquisite sultanas of whom poetry and painting have ever tried to convey an idea, and still your conception will fall far short of the enchanting models i had then before me. there were three of them, all equally beautiful and graceful. two were clad in tunics of crimson brocade, adorned in front with broad gold lace. the tunics were open and disclosed beneath them cashmere robes, with very tight sleeves terminating in gold fringes. the youngest wore a tunic of azure blue brocade, with silver ornaments: this was the only difference between her dress and that of her sisters. all three had magnificent black hair escaping in countless tresses from a fez of silver filigree, set like a diadem over their ivory foreheads; they wore gold embroidered slippers and wide trousers drawn close at the ankle. i had never beheld skins so dazzlingly fair, eyelashes so long, or so delicate a bloom of youth. the calm repose that sat on the countenances of these lovely creatures, had never been disturbed by any profane glance. no look but their mother's had ever told them they were beautiful; and this thought gave them an inexpressible charm in my eyes. it is not in our europe, where women, exposed to the gaze of crowds, so soon addict themselves to coquetry, that the imagination could conceive such a type of beauty. the features of our young girls are too soon altered by the vivacity of their impressions, to allow the eye of the artist to discover in them that divine charm of purity and ignorance with which i was so struck in beholding my tatar princesses. after embracing me they retired to the end of the room where they remained standing in those graceful oriental attitudes which no woman in europe could imitate. a dozen attendants muffled in white muslin, were gathered round the door, gazing with respectful curiosity. their profiles, shown in relief on a dark ground, added to the picturesque character of the scene. this delightful vision lasted an hour. when the princess saw that i was decided on going away, she signified to me by signs that i should go and see the garden; but though grateful to her for this further mark of attention, i preferred immediately rejoining my husband, being impatient to relate to him all the details of this interview, with which i was completely dazzled. next morning we set out on horseback for mangoup kaleh, a mountain renowned throughout the country, and of which the inhabitants never speak but with veneration. goths, turks, and tatars have been by turns its possessors. owing to its almost impregnable position, it has played an important part in all the revolutions of the crimea. the town of mangoup, which appears to have been the residence of the gothic princes, was formerly a very considerable place. it had a bishop in . the turks took it and put a garrison in it in . twenty years afterwards it was entirely burnt down. the khans of the crimea next took possession of it, and let it gradually fall into decay. at the close of the last century, the population of this ancient town still consisted of some karaïte families; at present there remains no other trace of their existence than the tombs spread over the mountain side. for three hours we ascended the mountain by scarcely marked bridle roads, astonished at the confidence with which our horses walked up those steep slopes where there seemed hardly any hold for their feet. but the horses of the crimea are wonderfully surefooted, and if they can set down their feet anywhere, it is alike to them whether it is on a smooth plain or on the verge of a precipice. here, as at tchoufout kaleh, the mountain was covered with tombs; but these bore inscriptions in tatar as well as hebrew, showing that this deserted soil had formerly been trodden by more than one people. the ascent ended at a broad triangular plateau on the summit of the mountain, where the town once stood. it is now a barren spot, strewed all over with ruins. two sides of the plateau are perpendicular; the third was defended by a fortress, part of which is still standing. every thing on this mountain wears a grand and melancholy character. desolation has long taken it for its domain. nothing meets the eye but ruins, tombs, and a naked soil. and yet, notwithstanding the stern aspect of the place, it does not fill the soul with the same feelings of painful awe as tchoufout kaleh. this is because the ancient town of the karaïtes, all mutilated as it is by time and events, still retains a semblance of existence, and this alliance between life and death necessarily impresses the mind with a superstitious dread. at mangoup kaleh all human traces have been too long effaced to awaken painful thoughts. there one thinks not so much of men as of remote epochs, of the great events and numerous revolutions of which this rock has been the theatre. the façade of the fortress has withstood the slow attacks of time, though full of cracks, and the lofty walls appear still from a distance to protect mangoup kaleh. herds of tatar horses graze in complete freedom on the plateau, and drink from a large reservoir supplied by a spring that never fails in any season. as we were exploring the interior of what must have been the citadel, we came upon a clump of lilacs in full bloom among the ruins. i cannot tell the impression made on me by those flowers thus unfolding their sweets under the dew of heaven far from every human eye. besides the fortress we found another edifice partly spared by time. its construction and the graves about it showed it to be an old christian church. the chancel was in tolerably good preservation, and even the windows had not suffered much dilapidation. the view from mangoup kaleh is very extensive and varied. on the one side is the sea with its islands and capes, its vessels, and sevastopol, which can be distinctly perceived in clear weather. to the west, magnificent orchards, vine-clad hills, and broad meadows, intersected with streams, stretch away as far as the eye can reach in the direction of simpheropol; then, at the foot of the mountain, the valley of karolez, its forests, its rocky girdle, its tatar village, and the palace of the princess adel bey, disclosing its moorish architecture from behind a screen of poplars. at the earnest recommendation of our guides, i ventured to explore some grottoes hollowed in the rock, the descent to which is rather difficult and dangerous. there are about a dozen of them opening one into the other, and separated only by shapeless pillars. the tatars could give us no sort of explanation as to these subterraneous chambers. they seem like those of inkermann to belong to very remote antiquity, but their origin and history are quite unknown. chapter xxxvii. road to baidar--the southern coast; grand scenery--miskhor and aloupka--predilection of the great russian nobles for the crimea. the country we passed over, next day, on our way to the southern coast, had a wild sylvan appearance strikingly in contrast with what we had hitherto seen. between the valley of karolez and that of baidar near the coast, lies a chain of mountains with deep gorges filled with forests. sometimes the road passed along the bottom of one of these gorges, where we were constantly obstructed by watercourses and thickets; sometimes we pursued a track barely discernible along the flank of the mountain, and then the summits of the hills that had seemed so high when we looked up to them from below, were hidden beneath us in dense vapours. at last, by dint of ascending and descending, we reached the wide plain of baidar, with the village in its centre. early next morning we were again on horseback, and breathing with delight the wild odours exhaled by the still dewy forest. our road ascended gently to the culminating point of the mountain, and then we stood rooted for a while to the spot in admiration of the magnificent sea view that burst upon us. but our thoughts were suddenly called off in another direction by the music of a military band, and looking down we were surprised to see several groups of soldiers posted some hundred feet below the point where we stood. it was a whole regiment employed in making a new road between sevastopol and ialta. some were blowing up rocks, and filling the air with something like the din and smoke of battle; others were busy round a great fire preparing the morning meal; the musicians were waking the mountain echoes with their martial strains, and the officers were lounging in front of a tent smoking their pipes. when we had sufficiently indulged our admiration of the scene, we turned with some dismay to contemplate the descent before us. the mountain which we had found so gently sloping on the western side, here fell so precipitously that i could not imagine how our horses were to make their way down. for my part i thought it safest to alight and lead my horse. the band of the regiment, as if they had guessed we were french, saluted us with the overture of the _fiancée_. after we had already reached the seaside, we still heard that charming music, weakened by distance, but kindling our recollections of home in the most unexpected manner. we spent some days at moukhalatka, the residence of colonel olive, a frenchman, formerly page to louis xviii., who entered the service of the grand-duke constantine shortly after the return of the bourbons to france. beyond moukhalatka our way lay over mountains, the scenery of which partly compensated for the incessant toil of climbing up broken rocks, and passing through glens where we could only advance in single file. but with the exception of these difficulties, the whole journey to aloupka was a continual enchantment. talk of the isles of the archipelago with their naked rocks! here a luxuriant vegetation descends to the water's edge, and the coast everywhere presents an amphitheatre of forests, gardens, villages, and country houses, over which the eye wanders with delight. the almond, the cythesus, the wild chestnut, the judas-tree, the olive, and the cypress, and all the vegetation of a southern clime, thrives there with a vigour that attests the potency of the sun. on our left we had gigantic masses towering vertically, sombre tints, and an inconceivable chaos of rocky fragments; on our right a brilliant mosaic bordered by the sea. but the beauty of the scenery about aloupka is even still more striking. the eye takes in at once the majestic tchatir dagh, cape aïtodor, with its lighthouse, the aiou dagh, the brow of which, by a curious freak of nature, seems crowned with bastions and half-ruined towers, the ai petri, and the megabi, with its gilded dome surmounted by a cross which was erected by the celebrated princess gallitzin, whose memory is still fresh in the crimea. all these objects are clothed in a rich and varied garb of light such as belongs only to the warm atmosphere of southern lands. aristocracy has set its seal on this favoured portion of the coast. the change in the appearance of the roads indicates the neighbourhood of wealthy landowners. they have been made expressly for the dashing four-horse equipages that are continually traversing it. we observed that the limits of each estate were marked by a post bearing the blazonry of the proprietor. we were most agreeably surprised in the neighbourhood of aloupka, where we fell in on the road with our friend m. marigny. in consequence of this welcome encounter we put off our visit to aloupka to the next day, and proceeded with the consul to mishkor, the estate of general narishkin, adjoining that of count voronzof. we were greatly pleased with this fine property, on the maintenance of which the general annually expends , francs. it comprises forests, a park, a château, a church, and a great number of ornamental buildings, that bespeak the exquisite taste of the proprietor. mishkor has this great advantage, that its costly artificial arrangements are so well disguised under an appearance of rural simplicity, that one is almost tempted to attribute its perfections to the hand of nature. the reverse is the case at aloupka where art reigns supreme. this almost royal residence, which has excited the envy even of the emperor nicholas, has already cost count voronzof between , , and , , of francs, although it is not yet finished. all epochs and all styles are represented in its architecture and embellishments. its lofty walls, its massive square tower and belfry, its vaulted passages and the mysterious aspect of its long galleries, give it a considerable resemblance to a feudal manor; but the oriental style is exhibited in its small columns, its chimneys, and its profusion of pinnacles and domes. to justify the construction of such a porphyry château, the count should have been able to retrograde some centuries: in our own times such a dwelling is an anachronism. what is the use of such walls when there is no fear of being attacked by a neighbour? what is the use of those vaulted passages without men-at-arms to fill them? an old castle speaks to the imagination, recalling the chronicles, the fortunes and events connected with it, but a modern construction like this is a thing of no meaning. its towers, battlements, and threatening walls seem a parody on the past. what have they seen? of what combats, feuds, loves, and revenges have they been witnesses? in addition to this total want of fitness of character, the château has besides the grievous defect of being very disadvantageously situated. the coast is so narrow at this spot that there are but a few paces' breadth between the façade of the building and the sea, so that, in order to have a fair view of the whole, one must take a boat and put out from the shore until the proper point of view is found. now it is not every one who will be disposed to take this trouble solely for the purpose of appreciating the effect of a façade. the park displays a charming labyrinth of broken rocks, and a variety of natural picturesque and extraordinary features. art has had nothing to do but to make paths and alleys between the accumulated volcanic masses, and to adorn the sides of the cascades with flowers. in the hollow of a rock there is a deep grotto with a little babbling spring, inviting to repose and meditation. at the eastern end of the château there is a lofty cypress wood, which the countess calls her scutari. the general aspect of this magnificent abode is too grave to delight the eye; we admire but do not covet it. the gigantic shadow of the ai petri, which hangs like a veil over the whole domain, adds still more to its sternness. the reputation of the southern coast dates only from the arrival of count voronzof in the crimea, previously to which no one thought of residing on it, except some speculators who were beginning to try the cultivation of the vine there. the count, who is a man of much taste, was at once struck with the beauty of the country, and soon became the purchaser of several estates in it. his example was followed by numbers of wealthy nobles whose eyes were immediately opened to the charms of the landscapes when once the count had proclaimed their attractions. numerous villas were erected in the course of a few years along all the coast from balaclava to theodosia. a fleet of steamers was established, with the port of ialta for their head quarters. the imperial family itself gave into the fashion and purchased oreanda, one of the most beautiful sites on the coast; and many foreigners, infected by the prevailing fever, turned all they had into money and settled in the crimea to cultivate the vine, a pursuit which count voronzof was then encouraging to the utmost of his power. but this was the reverse of the medal; most of them were ruined, and are now expiating in extreme poverty the cupidity with which they plunged into foolish enterprises. throughout its whole extent the coast presents only a narrow strip, seldom half a league wide, traversed by deep ravines, and backed by a range of calcareous cliffs that shelter it from the north wind. it is only on this _detritus_ that the handsomest domains are situated. among these are koutchouk lampat, belonging to general borosdine; parthenit, where is still to be seen the great hazel under which the prince de ligne wrote to catherine ii.; kisil tasch, the proprietor of which bears a name famous in france, that of poniatowski; oudsouf, lying close under the forest shades of aiou dagh; arteck the estate of prince andrew gallitzin; ai daniel, the property of the late duc de richelieu; marsanda; oreanda, an imperial domain; mishkor and nikita; gaspra where madame de krudener died in the arms of her daughter, baroness berckheim; and koreis where princess gallitzin, exiled from court, ended her days. all these properties, adjoining each other, are, in the fine season, the rendezvous of a numerous society eagerly intent on pleasure. aloupka is the great centre of amusement. foreigners of distinction who are for the moment at odessa, are _ex officio_ the guests of count voronzof; but many of them have on their return complained of paying somewhat too dearly for the governor-general's hospitality. as the château, notwithstanding its imposing appearance, can contain only a small number of the select, the majority are compelled to find a lodging at the inn of the two cypresses near aloupka, the landlord of which, by way of doing honour to his noble patron, practises unsparing extortion on all who have need of his apartments. on our way to ialta, about a dozen versts from mishkor we visited the country houses best worth seeing, particularly gaspra, which interested us for madame de krudener's sake. perhaps the reader will not be unwilling to peruse the details i collected respecting the motives that induced that celebrated woman to settle in the peninsula, and which connected her name with that of two other women equally remarkable for their strange fortunes. chapter xxxviii. three celebrated women. every one is aware of the mystic influence which madame de krudener exercised for many years over the enthusiastic temperament of the emperor alexander. this lady who has so charmingly portrayed her own character in _valérie_, who was pre-eminently distinguished in the aristocratic _salons_ of paris by her beauty, her talents, and her position as an ambassadress, who was by turns a woman of the world, a heroine of romance, a remarkable writer, and a prophetess, will not soon be forgotten in france. the lovers of mystic poetry will read _valérie_, that charming work, the appearance of which made so much noise, notwithstanding the bulletins of the grand army (for it appeared in the most brilliant period of the empire); those who delight in grace, combined with beauty and mental endowments, will recall to mind that young woman who won for herself so distinguished a place in french society; and those whose glowing imaginations love to dwell on exalted sentiments and religious fervour, united to the most lively faith, cannot refuse their admiration to her who asked of the mighty of the earth only the means of freely exercising charity, that evangelical virtue, of which she was always one of the most ardent apostles. the _lettres de mademoiselle cochelet_ make known to us with what zeal madame de krudener applied herself to seeking out and comforting the afflicted. her extreme goodness of heart was such that she was called, in st. petersburg, the mother of the poor. all the sums she received from the emperor were immediately distributed to the wretched, and her own fortune was applied in the same way, so that her house was besieged from morning till night by mujiks and mothers of families, to whom she gave food both for soul and body. with so much will and power to do good, madame de krudener by and by acquired so great an influence in st. petersburg, that the government at last became alarmed. she was accused of entertaining tendencies of too liberal a cast, religious notions of no orthodox kind, extreme ambition cloaked under the guise of charity, and therewith too much compassion for those miserable mujiks of whom she was the unfailing friend. but the chief cause of the displeasure of the court was the baroness's connexion with two other ladies, whose religious sentiments were by all means exceedingly questionable. they were the princess gallitzin and countess guacher (we will give the real name of the latter by and by). the publicity which these ladies affected in all their acts could not but be injurious to the meek christian enterprise of madame de krudener. the princess was detested at court. too superior to disguise her opinions, and renowned for her beauty, her caustic wit, and her philosophic notions, she had excited against her a host of enemies, who were sure to take the first opportunity of injuring her with the emperor. as for the countess guacher, the chief heroine of our tale, her rather equivocal position at the court furnished a weapon against her, when suddenly issuing from the extreme retirement in which she had previously lived, she became one of madame de krudener's most enthusiastic adepts. but before we proceed further it will be necessary to give a brief account of her arrival in russia. two years before the period i am speaking of, a lady of high rank arrived in st. petersburg, accompanied by a numerous retinue, and giving herself out for one of the victims of the french revolution. in that quality she was received with alacrity in the society of the capital, and the emperor alexander himself was one of the foremost to notice her. it appeared that she came last from england, where she had taken shelter during the revolutionary troubles; but the motive which had induced her, after so long a residence among the english, to quit their country for russia, remained an impenetrable secret. she always evinced an extreme repugnance to meet the french emigrants, who resided in st. petersburg, and they on their part declared that the name she bore was entirely unknown to them. it soon began to be whispered about, that the lady was, perhaps, a personage of illustrious birth who desired to be _incognita_; but what her real name was no one could tell, not even the emperor. the wit of the courtiers was baffled by the lofty reserve of the countess, who always affected a total silence whenever france was mentioned in conversation. alexander, always prompt to declare himself a champion of dames, respected the fair stranger's _incognito_ with chivalric loyalty, and declared that any attempt to penetrate the mystery would exceedingly displease him. this was enough to cool the fever of curiosity that had infected the courtiers since madame guacher's first appearance; her name was thenceforth mentioned only with a circumspection that would have seemed very curious to any one unacquainted with the russians, and she soon became a stranger to the court, where she appeared only on rare occasions. the emperor alone, stimulated no doubt by the mystery she observed respecting her past history, and struck by her high-bred demeanour, kept up an intercourse with her to which he seemed to attach much value. there was nothing of ordinary gallantry in this, at least there never was any thing to indicate that their intimacy had led to so commonplace a result. the romantic spirit of alexander, delighted to build all sorts of hypotheses on a person whose noble presence and lofty airs exercised a peculiar prestige upon his imagination. when the princess gallitzin returned to st. petersburg after a journey to italy, the emperor, who sincerely admired her, took upon himself to make two ladies acquainted whom he thought so fitted to appreciate each other. as he had foreseen, a close intimacy grew up between them, but to the great mortification of the court, this intimacy was, through madame de krudener's influence, the basis of an association which aimed at nothing less than the conversion of the whole earth to the holy law of christ. at first the scheme was met with derision, then alarm was felt, and at last, by dint of intrigues, the emperor, whom these ladies had half made a proselyte, was forced to banish them from court, and confine them for the rest of their days to the territory of the crimea. it is said that this decision, so contrary to the kind nature of alexander, was occasioned by an article in an english newspaper, in which the female trio and his imperial majesty were made the subjects of most biting sarcasms. enraged at being accused of being held in leading strings by three half-crazed women, the emperor signed the warrant for their exile to the great joy of the envious courtiers. the victims beheld in the event only the manifestation of the divine will, that they should propagate the faith among the followers of mahomet. in a spirit of christian humility they declined receiving any other escort than that of a non-commissioned officer, whose duty should be only to see to their personal safety, and transmit their orders to the persons employed in the journey. their departure produced a great sensation in st. petersburg; and every one was eager to see the distinguished ladies in their monastic costume. the court laughed, but the populace, always sensitive where religion is concerned, and who, besides, were losing a most generous protectress in madame de krudener, accompanied the pilgrims with great demonstrations of respect and sorrow to the banks of the neva, where they embarked on the th of september, . 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 , 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. the caustic wit that led to her disgrace at the court of st. petersburg, her stately manners, her name, her prodigious memory, and immense fortune, quickly attracted round her all the notable persons in southern russia. distinguished foreigners eagerly coveted the honour of being introduced to her, and she was soon at the head of a little court, over which she presided like a real sovereign. but being by nature very capricious, the freak sometimes seized her to shut herself up for whole months in total solitude. although she relapsed into philosophical and voltairian notions, the remembrance of madame de krudener inspired her with occasional fits of devotion that oddly contrasted with her usual habits. it was during one of these visitations that she erected a colossal cross on one of the heights commanding koreis. the cross being gilded is visible to a great distance. her death in left a void in russian society which will not easily be filled. reared in the school of the eighteenth century, well versed in the literature and the arts of france, speaking the language with an entire command of all that light, playful raillery that made it so formidable of yore; having been a near observer of all the events and all the eminent men of the empire; possessing moreover a power of apprehension and discernment that gave equal variety and point to her conversation; a man in mind and variety of knowledge, a woman in grace and frivolity; the princess gallitzin belonged by her brilliant qualities and her charming faults to a class that is day by day becoming extinct. now that conversation is quite dethroned in france, and exists only in some few salons of europe, it is hard to conceive the influence formerly exercised by women of talent. those of our day, more ambitious of obtaining celebrity through the press than of reigning over a social circle, guard the treasures of their imagination and intellect with an anxious reserve that cannot but prove a real detriment to society. to write feuilletons, romances, and poetry, is all very well; but to preside over a drawing-room, like the women of the eighteenth century, has also its merit. but we must not blame the female sex alone for the loss of that supremacy which once belonged to french society. the men of the present day, more serious than their predecessors, more occupied with positive, palpable interests, seem to look with cold disdain on what but lately commanded their warmest admiration. but we have lost sight of the countess guacher, who is not for all that the least interesting of our heroines. resigning herself with much more equanimity than her companions to the necessity of leaving the tatars alone, she hired for herself, even before their complete separation, a small house standing by itself on the sea shore; and there she took up her abode with only one female attendant. following the example of the princess gallitzin, she threw off the _béguine_ robe and assumed a kind of male attire. for some time her existence was almost unknown to her neighbours; so retired were her habits. the only occasions when she was visible was during her rides on horseback on the beach, and it was noticed that she chose the most stormy weather for these excursions. but her recluse habits did not long conceal her from curious inquiry. a certain colonel ivanof, who had noticed the strange proceedings of the pilgrims from their first arrival in the crimea, set himself to watch the countess, and at last took a house near her retreat; but in order that his presence might not scare her, he contented himself for some weeks with following her at a distance during her lonely promenades, trusting to chance for an opportunity of becoming more intimately acquainted with her. his perseverance was at last rewarded with full success. one evening, as the colonel stood at his window observing the tokens of an approaching storm, he perceived a person on horseback galloping in the direction of his house, evidently with the intention of seeking shelter. before this could be accomplished the storm broke out with great fury, and just then the colonel was startled by the discovery that the stranger was his mysterious neighbour. the sequel will be best told in his own words: "full of surprise and curiosity i hastened to meet the countess, who entered my doors without honouring me with a single look. she seemed in very bad humour, and concentrated her whole attention upon a tortoise she carried in her left hand. without uttering a word or caring for the water that streamed from her clothes, she sat down on the divan, and remained for some moments apparently lost in thought. for my part, i continued standing before her, waiting until she should address me, and glad of the opportunity to scrutinise her appearance at my ease. she wore an amazonian petticoat, a green cloth vest, buttoned over the bosom, a broad-brimmed felt hat, with a pair of pistols in her girdle, and, as i have said, a tortoise in her hand. her handsome, grave countenance excited my admiration. below her hat appeared some grey locks, that seemed whitened not so much by years as by sorrow, of which her visage bore the impress. "without taking off her hat, the flap of which half concealed her face, she began to warm the tortoise with her breath, calling it by the pet name _dushinka_ (little soul), which duty being performed she deigned to look up, and perceived me. her first gesture bespoke extreme surprise. until then, supposing she was in a tatar house, she had taken no notice of the objects around her, but the sight of my drawing-room, my library, my piano, and myself, struck her with stupefaction. 'where am i?' she exclaimed, in hurried alarm. 'madam,' i replied, 'you are in the house of a man who has long lived as a hermit--a man who like you loves solitude, the sea, and meditation--who has renounced like you the society of his kind to live after his own way in this wilderness.' these words struck her forcibly. 'you, too,' she ejaculated, 'you, too, have divorced yourself from the world, and why? ay, why?' she repeated, as if conversing with her own thoughts, 'why bury yourself alive here, without friends, without relations, without a heart to respond to yours? why die this lingering death, when the world is open to you--the world with its delights, its balls and spectacles, its passionate adorations, with the fascinations of the court, the favour of a queen?' imagine my astonishment to hear her thus in a sort of hallucination, revealing her secret thoughts and recollections. in these few words her whole life was set forth, the life of a beautiful woman, rich, flattered, habituated to the atmosphere of courts. "after a pause of some duration she entered into conversation with me, questioned me at great length on the way in which i passed my time, on my tastes, the few resources i enjoyed for cultivating the arts, &c. we chatted for more than an hour like old acquaintances, and she seemed quite to have forgotten the strange words she had uttered in the beginning of the interview. being very much puzzled to know what pleasure she took in carrying the tortoise about with her, i asked her some questions on the subject; but with a solemnity that seemed to me strangely disproportioned to the subject, she told me she had made a vow never to separate from it. 'it is a present from the emperor alexander,' she said, 'and as long as i have it near me i shall not utterly despair of my destiny.' availing myself of this opening i tried to make her talk of the motives that had brought her to the peninsula, but she cut me short by saying that since she had become acquainted with the character of the tatars she had given up all thought of making converts among them. 'they are men of pure feelings and pure consciences,' she said, impressively; 'why insist on their changing their creed, since they live in accordance with the principles of morality and religion? after all it matters little whether one adores jesus christ, mahomet, or the grand lama, if one is charitable, humble, and hospitable.' "i laughed, and said she spoke rank heresy, and that if she preached such doctrines, she ran great risk of having a bull of excommunication fulminated against her. 'it is since i have given up preaching,' she replied, 'that i have begun to think in this way; solitude makes one regard things in quite a different aspect from that in which they are seen by the world. only three months ago i set catholicism above all religions, and now i meditate one still more perfect and sublime. will you be my first disciple?' she said, in a tone between jest and earnest, that left me very uncertain whether she was serious or not. when she left my house i escorted her to her own door, and promised i would call on her the next day." the second interview was not less curious than the first: the colonel found his neighbour busily at work with a glass spinner's lamp and a blowpipe, making glass beads. she did not allow her visitor's presence to interrupt her operations, but finished before him enough to make a necklace. she then showed him several boxes filled with beads of all sorts, made by her own hands, and said very seriously, "if ever i return to the world i will wear no other ornaments than such pearls as these. it is a stupid thing to wear true ones. see how bright, clear, and large these are! would any one suppose they were not the produce of the indian ocean? so it is with every thing else: what matters the substance if the form is beautiful and pleasing to the eye?" the colonel was about to enter into a grave discussion of this very questionable moral doctrine, very common in the eighteenth century, when suddenly changing the subject, the countess took down a sword that hung at the head of her bed and laid it on his lap. "you see this weapon, colonel: it was given me by a vendean chief in admiration of my courage; for though a woman i have fought for the good cause, and many a time smelt powder among the bushes and heaths of bretagne. you need not wonder at my partiality for weapons and for male costume; it is a reminiscence of my youth. a vendean at heart, i long made part in the heroic bands that withstood the republican armies, and the dangers, hardships, and fiery emotions of partisan warfare are no secrets to me." "but," observed the colonel, "how is it that thus devoted as you are to the royal cause you do not return to your country, where monarchy is again triumphant?" "hush!" she answered, lowering her voice, "hush! let us say no more of the present or the past. would you ask the shrub broken by the storm why the breath of spring does not reanimate its mutilated form? let us leave things as they are, and not strive to repair what is irreparable. man's justice has pronounced its decree; let us trust in that of god, merciful and infinite, like all that is eternally just and good!" it was in vain the colonel endeavoured by further questions to become acquainted with that mysterious past to which she could not make any allusion without extreme perturbation of mind; she remained silent, and retired to another room without renewing the conversation. after these two interviews, colonel ivanof had no other opportunity of gathering any hints that could lead him towards a definite conclusion respecting this extraordinary woman, although he saw her almost daily for more than two months. she often talked to him of her residence in london, her friendly relations with the emperor of russia, her travels, and her fortune; but of france not a word. not an expression of regret, not a name or allusion of any sort, afforded the colonel reason to suspect that his neighbour had left behind her in her native land any objects on which her memory still dwelt. his brain was almost turned at last by the romantic acquaintance he had made. his vanity was piqued, and his desire to solve so difficult an enigma gave him no rest. he diligently perused the history of the french revolution, in hopes to find in it a clue to his inquiry, but it was to no purpose. he felt completely astray in such a labyrinth. many great names successively occurred to him as likely to belong to his mysterious neighbour, but there were always some circumstances connected with them that refuted such a supposition. perhaps a more matter-of-fact person would at last have discovered the truth; but the colonel's lively imagination led him to embrace the oddest hypothesis. it was his belief that the countess was the illegitimate offspring of a royal amour. setting out from this principle he put aside all the names proscribed by the revolution, and stuck obstinately to a myth. but tired at last of this pursuit of shadows, he resolved to trust to that chance which had already been so favourable for the clearing up of his uncertainty. assiduously noting all the lady's eccentricities, he knew not whether to pity or admire her, though very certain that her wits wandered at times. she frequently received despatches from st. petersburg, and seemed, notwithstanding her exile, to have retained a certain influence over the mind of the tzar. one day she showed her neighbour a letter from a lady of the court, who thanked her warmly for having obtained from the emperor a regiment which that lady had long been ineffectually soliciting for her son. so absorbed was the russian officer by the interest he took in the countess, that he seemed to have forgotten all the world besides; but an unexpected event suddenly put an end to his romantic loiterings, and sent him back to the realities of life. a frenchman, calling himself baron x--, arrived one fine morning from st. petersburg, and established himself without ceremony as the countess's factotum. from that moment all intimacy was broken off between the latter and colonel ivanof. the cold, astute behaviour of the baron, and his continual presence, obliged the colonel to retire. it may seem strange that he surrendered the field so quickly to an unknown person, but it was time for him to return to his military duties, and besides, what could he do with a man whose connexion with the countess seemed of old standing, and who watched her with a jealous vigilance enough to discourage the most intrepid curiosity? his departure was scarcely noticed by madame guacher, whose habits had undergone an entire change since the arrival of the baron. the incoherence of her mind became more and more visible; it was only at long and uncertain intervals she rode out on horseback; the rest of her time was spent in enduring all sorts of extraordinary mortifications. baron x--remained in the crimea until the death of the countess, which took place in . being fully acquainted with all her affairs he was her sole heir, not legally, perhaps, but _de facto_. on leaving the peninsula he proceeded to england, where a large part of our heroine's property was invested, and he afterwards returned to russia with a considerable fortune. a curious incident occurred after the death of the countess. as soon as the emperor was informed of the event he despatched a courier to the crimea, with orders to bring him a casket, the form, size, and materials of which were described with the most minute exactness. the messenger, assisted by the chief of the police, at first made a fruitless search; but at last, through the information of a waiting woman, the casket was found sealed up, under the bed of the deceased lady. the courier took possession of it and returned with the utmost speed. in ten days he was in st. petersburg. the precious casket was delivered to the emperor in his private cabinet, in the presence of two or three courtiers. alexander was so impatient to open it that he had the lock forced. but alas! what a sad disappointment! the casket contained only--a pair of scissors. it surely was not for the sake of a pair of scissors that alexander had made one of his cossacks gallop versts in a fortnight. be that as it may, baron x--was accused of having purloined papers of the highest importance, and unfairly possessed himself of madame guacher's fortune. but as he was then on his road to london, the emperor's anger was of no avail. at a subsequent period, the disclosures made by this man, and the discovery of a curious correspondence, at last revealed the real name of the countess; but the tardy information arrived when there was no longer any one to be interested in it; the emperor was dead, and colonel ivanhof was fighting in the caucasus. interred in a corner of the garden belonging to her house, that mysterious woman who had been the subject of so many contradictory rumours, had not even a stone to cover her grave, and to mark to the stranger the spot where rest the remains of the _countess de lamothe_, who had been whipped and branded in the place de grève, as an accomplice in the scandalous affair of the diamond necklace.[ ] footnotes: [ ] all the facts we have related respecting madame de lamothe are positive and perfectly authentic: they were reported to us by persons who had known that lady particularly, and who moreover possessed substantial proofs of her identity. it is chiefly to mademoiselle jacquemart, mentioned in "marshal marmont's travels," that we are indebted for the details we have given respecting the arrival of our three heroines in the crimea. we have ourselves seen in that lady's possession the sword which the countess alleged she had used in the wars of la vendée, and sundry letters attesting the great influence she exercised over the emperor alexander. chapter xxxix. ialta--koutchouk lampat--parthenit--the prince de ligne's hazel--oulou ouzen; a garden converted into an aviary--tatar young women--excursion to soudagh--mademoiselle jacquemart. the proximity of ialta to the most remarkable places on the coast, its harbour, and its delightful situation, make it the rendezvous of all the travellers who flock to the crimea in the fine season. a packet-boat from odessa brings every week a large number of passengers, and the harbour is further enlivened by a multitude of small vessels from all parts of the coast. nothing can be more charming than the sight of that white ialta, seated at the head of a bay like a beautiful sultana bathing her feet in the sea, and sheltering her fair forehead from the sun under rocks festooned with verdure. elegant buildings, handsome hotels, and a comfortable, cheerful population, indicate that opulence and pleasure have taken the town under their patronage; its prosperity, indeed, depends entirely on the travellers who fill its hotels for several months of the year. when it belonged to the greeks it was counted among the most important towns on the coast; but the successive revolutions of the crimea were fatal to it, and for a long while it remained only a wretched village. at present a custom-house and a garrison complete its pretensions to the style and dignity of a grand town. but nature has been so liberal to it, that instead of wondering at its rapid rise one is rather disposed to think it much inferior to what it might be. we left ialta in a tolerably large body, some on horseback, others in carriages. leaving behind us aloupka, mishkor, koreis, and oreanda, we soon forgot their sumptuous displays of art for the inexhaustible marvels of nature. our road lay parallel to the coast, and the continual variations of its admirable scenery made us think the way too short. a storm of rain overtook us in the fine forest of koutchouk lampat, and made us all run for shelter. the more advanced of the party easily reached the house of general borosdin the owner of the property; but those in the rear, of whom i was one, were obliged to take refuge in a pavilion. whilst we were quietly waiting there until the storm should blow over, the people of the house were seeking for us on all sides, having been sent out by our companions. several times we saw them passing along at a distance armed with large umbrellas; but as there was a billiard-table in the pavilion we never showed ourselves until we had finished an interesting game. the châtelain of koutchouk lampat, delighted to receive so numerous a party, entertained us with an excellent collation, in which figured all the wines of france and spain. a few leagues from koutchouk lampat lies parthenit, a village where, for the first time, i received a mark of civility from tatar females. as i entered the place, keeping in the rear of the others according to my usual custom, i passed in front of a house in the large balcony of which there were three veiled women. just as i passed beneath the balcony i slackened my horse's pace and made some friendly signals to them, whereupon, one of them, and i make no doubt the prettiest, repeatedly kissed a large bouquet of lily of the valley she held, and threw it to me so adroitly that it fell into my hand. delighted with the present, i hastened up to my companions and showed it to them; but they were all malicious enough to assure me that the gift had been addressed not to myself but to my clothes. the reader will remember that i travelled in male costume. at parthenit we failed not to sit under the famous hazel-tree of the prince de ligne. its foliage is so thick and spreading that it overshadows a whole _place_. the trunk is not less than eight yards in circumference, and is surrounded by a large wooden divan, almost always occupied by travellers, who use it as a tavern. the inhabitants of parthenit regard this tree with great affection, and beneath its shade they discuss all the important affairs of the village. a limpid fountain, the waters of which are distributed through several channels, adds to the charm of the spot. our whole cavalcade was completely sheltered under the dome of the magnificent hazel. the tatars brought us sweetmeats, coffee, and fresh eggs, and obstinately refused to take payment for them. almost the whole population came to see us, but their curiosity was not at all obtrusive. such of them as had no immediate business with us kept a respectful distance. on leaving parthenit we passed very close to some old fortifications covering a whole hill with their imposing ruins. at evening we arrived at the post station of alouchta,[ ] where our party was to break up. some of our companions returned to ialta, others proceeded towards simpheropol; whilst we ourselves, accompanied by a single tatar and our dragoman, set out by the sea-coast for oulou ouzen. the distance was but twelve versts, but we spent several hours upon it, in consequence of the difficulty of the ground and the steepness of the cliffs which we were often obliged to ascend. we met no one on the way; this part of the coast is quite deserted and sterile. oulou ouzen, our point of destination, is a narrow valley opening on the sea, and belonging to madame lang, who has covered it with vineyards and orchards. a week passed quickly away in the agreeable society of our hostess, whose residence is one of the prettiest in the country. being very fond of birds, she has succeeded by a very simple process in converting her garden into a great aviary. on the day we arrived we were surprised to see her continually assailed by a flock of pretty titmice that pecked at her hair and hands with extraordinary familiarity. they were the progeny in the third and fourth generation of a pair she had reared two years before, and had liberated in the beginning of spring. next year they returned with a young brood that grew used by degrees to feed on the balcony, and at last to eat out of her hands. these in their turn brought her their young ones; other birds followed their example, and thus she has always a flock of gay dwellers of the air perching and fluttering about her balcony, which is covered with nets to protect them from birds of prey. at madame lang's we met a very agreeable gentleman and a great admirer of the crimea, m. montandon, who has written an excellent itinerary of the country. we talked a great deal with him about a french lady, mademoiselle jacquemart, whose acquaintance my husband had made some months previously. she has resided for the last fifteen years in soudagh, a valley near oulou ouzen. the duc de raguse speaks at great length of her in his _excursion en crimée_, and relates the tragic adventure of which she was the heroine some years ago, but he assigns for it a romantic cause which mademoiselle jacquemart has absolutely contradicted. few ladies have passed through a more eccentric life than mademoiselle jacquemart. in her young days, her beauty, her talents, and her wit invested her with a celebrity, such as rarely falls to the lot of one in the humble position of a governess. after having lived long in the great world of st. petersburg and of vienna, she suddenly withdrew to the crimea, where, having like many others almost ruined herself by vintage speculations, she purchased the little property in which she now resides. her history and her unusual energy of character led to a close intimacy between her and the old princess gallitzin, who was herself enough of an original character to like every thing uncommon, and mademoiselle jacquemart was an habitual guest at koreis. before we left oulou ouzen we went to spend a day with madame lang's only neighbour, an old bachelor, who lives quite alone, not out of misanthropy, but that he may devote himself without interruption to his favourite pursuit of botany. a deep ravine between the two properties, and a steep descent overlooking the sea, render the road so dangerous that ladies can venture to traverse it only in a vehicle drawn by oxen. it was in this strange equipage, guided by a tatar armed with a long goad, that we reached the house of m. faviski, who was quite delighted, but greatly puzzled to receive ladies. he did the honours of his bachelor's dwelling, nevertheless, like a very well-bred gentleman. while we were waiting for dinner, madame lang conceived the happy thought of sending for all the tatar beauties of the village that i might see them. when they arrived, the gentlemen were obliged to leave the room, which was immediately entered by a dozen of pretty bashful young women, looking like a herd of scared gazelles. but after a few words from madame lang, who speaks tatar very well, they soon became familiarised with our strange faces, and grew very merry. they took off their veils and papouches at our request, and favoured us with an oriental dance. one of them quite astonished me by the magnificent lineaments of her face, which reminded me of the head of an empress on an ancient medal. they examined all the details of our toilette with childlike curiosity, and exacted from us the same attentive notice of the embroidery on their bodices and veils. meanwhile, so amused were we by this scene, that we had quite forgotten the gentlemen whom we had turned out, and who now began to thump lustily at the door. the tatar women were now thrown into the most picturesque and comical disorder, and ran about in all directions looking for their veils. in the midst of the confusion i was wicked enough to hide the veil and slippers of the young beauty, and then throw the door wide open. it was curious to see the dismay of the poor blushing creature who knew not how to escape from the bold admiration of several men. she had never in her life been in such a situation before; so when i thought the gentlemen had sufficiently indulged their curiosity, i hastened to relieve her by returning her veil. next day, after a fatiguing journey, we reached soudagh in the evening. it was with no little interest i beheld the humble abode of a woman of talent, who, through some unaccountable whim, had quitted the world while still young, and retired to almost absolute solitude. she was glad to receive the visit of compatriots, and talked frankly to us of the hardships and discomforts of a life she had not the courage to abandon. the extreme loneliness of her dwelling exposed her to frequent attacks by night, and obliged her to have a brace of pistols always at the head of her bed. people stole her fruit, her poultry, and even her vines; she was kept continually on the alert, and had the fear before her of repetition of the horrible attempt to which she was once near falling a victim. the account she herself gave us of that affair was as follows. two days before it happened, a greek applied to her for work and food. not having any employment for him, she gave him some provisions, and advised him to look elsewhere for work. the next day but one, as she was returning in the evening from a geological excursion, carrying in her hand a small hatchet she used for breaking pebbles, she perceived the same man walking behind her in silence. feeling some uneasiness, she turned round to look in the greek's face; but at that moment she felt herself grasped round the waist, the hatchet was snatched out of her hand, and she received several blows with it on the head that deprived her of all consciousness. when her senses returned the assassin had disappeared. how she reached home with her skull fractured, she never could explain. for many months her life was in imminent danger, and her reason was impaired. at the time we saw her she still suffered acutely from some splinters of a comb that remained in her head. this is a much less romantic story than that told by marmont. footnotes: [ ] about a.d. , the khersonites invoked the protection of the emperors of the east against the huns. justinian seized the opportunity to erect the two fortresses of alouchta and oursouf, by means of which he subsequently rendered the republic of kherson tributary to the empire. there still exist at alouchta three large towers that formed part of the imperial castle. chapter xl. ruins of soldaya--road to theodosia--caffa--muscovite vandalism--peninsula of kertch--panticapea and its tombs. leaving my wife to return with mademoiselle jacquemart to oulou ouzen, i took my way by the lower part of the valley of soudagh through a labyrinth of vineyards and meadows covered with blossoming peach and apricot trees. passing the paltry village that has borrowed one of the names of the celebrated soldaya, we soon arrived at the sea beach at the foot of the triple castle erected by the intrepid genoese, in , on the site of a city they had just conquered, and which had flourished under the successive dominion of the greeks, the komans, and the tatars. the origin of soldaya, or sougdai, belongs to the most remote periods of crimean history. in the eighth century it was a bishop's see, and though then dependent on the greek empire it boasted not the less of its own sovereigns. four centuries afterwards, in , the komans, an asiatic people, expelled from their own territories, and driven westward by the hordes of genghis khan, entered the crimea, where they were the precursors of that terrible mongol invasion that was soon to overwhelm all the east of europe. the arrivals of these fugitives was fatal to the greek settlements; the princes of soldaya were exterminated, and the victors took possession of their capital. but the komans did not long enjoy their conquests. overtaken a second time by the rapid current of the mongol invasion, they were obliged to abandon the crimea after thirty years' possession, and seek an asylum in the most western regions of thrace. under the mongol dominion the greeks returned to soldaya, which again became a christian town, and the most important port of the peninsula. it was tributary, indeed, to the tatars, but it had a bishop and its own administration. in the beginning of the fourteenth century, when the tatars of the kaptchak adopted the religion of mahomet, mussulman fanaticism prevailed for a while in the crimea, the christians were expelled from soldaya and their numerous churches were converted into mosques. but it is a remarkable fact that the word of a pope, john xxii., was of such force in , that ousbeck khan allowed the exiles to resume possession of their city with the enjoyment of their ancient privileges. but twenty years had elapsed when a fresh revolution, occasioned by intestine disorder and dissensions, finally extinguished all trace of the greek sway in soldaya. the genoese, who had for nearly a century been masters of caffa, incorporated the ancient capital of the komans with their own territory on the th of june, .[ ] then it was that in order to secure their possession of the fertile territory of soudagh and defend it against the tatars, the enterprising merchant princes erected, on the most inaccessible rock at the entrance of the valley, that formidable fortress of three stories, crowned by the gigantic maiden tower (_kize kouleh_) whence the warders could overlook the fort, the sea, and the adjacent regions. the genoese remained in quiet possession of their castle for more than a century; but after the taking of constantinople by mahomet ii., and the almost immediate destruction of caffa, the capital of the crimean colonies, soldaya, shared the same fate. the turks laid siege to the fortress in . it made a long and obstinate resistance, and famine alone overcame the valour of the garrison.[ ] with the genoese sway, fell all that had constituted the glory and prosperity of soldaya during so many centuries; the population of the town was driven out and scattered; the once animated harbour was deserted, and grass grew in the streets trodden of yore by the elegant greeks of the lower empire, the victorious komans and the proud citizens of genoa. a feeble turkish garrison became the tenants of the place, and for nearly three centuries continued the unmoved spectators of the decay and desolation of one of the oldest and most remarkable cities of the pontus euxinus. the imperial eagle of the tzars floated over the towers of soldaya in , and from that time began for the monuments of the genoese colony that rapid destruction which everywhere characterises the russian conquests. all the beautiful public and private buildings which pallas so much admired in his first journey, disappeared, and out of their precious remains, muscovite vandalism erected great useless barracks, the unmeaning ruins of which have, for many years, strewed the ground. at present soldaya, erased from the list of towns and fortresses, has not even a watchman to guard its walls and its magnificent towers with their proud inscriptions. every year the sight is saddened by fresh mutilations, and ere long there will remain nothing of those marble tablets with their elegant arabesques that adorned every tower and doorway, and recorded its origin and history. the only thing that could save the genoese castle from total destruction, would be to leave it quite alone, and to remove far from it every body of russian authorities. unfortunately, the government seems willing to take upon itself the care of its preservation, and there can be no doubt that demolition awaits the remains of soldaya from the moment an _employé_, without salary enough to live on, shall be invested with the right of protecting them against the ravages of time and of men.[ ] on leaving soldaya we proceeded towards theodosia, the caffa of the genoese. we will not weary the reader with a monotonous description of our route. this part of the country is less diversified, less beautiful and picturesque, and the population much more thinly spread than in the other mountainous parts of the crimea. the great calcareous chain recedes considerably from the coast, and from its precipitous sides it sends off blackish schistous offshoots, scarcely covered by a meagre vegetation, enclosing between them in their course to the sea some valleys in which the tatars have established the only villages in the country. completely abandoned by the aristocracy, destitute of roads, and unadorned by any of those elegant dwellings with which luxury and fashion have embellished the hill sides of ialta, the whole coast between alouchta and theodosia is neglected by most tourists, and is only visited at rare intervals by scientific travellers. but if the soudagh coasts are disdained by the russian nobles, and display no italian villas or porphyry gothic manors, the traveller finds there the most frank reception and truly oriental hospitality. far from all the centres of the elegant and partly corrupt civilisation which the russians have imported into the crimea within the last twenty years, the tatars of these regions retain unaltered their ancient usages, and the prominent features of their primitive character. i could not easily describe the kindly good-will with which i was received in all the villages where i stopped. the fact that i was a frenchman, who had nothing to do with any branch of russian administration, had a really marvellous effect on the mountaineers. wherever i went the best house, the handsomest divan, cushions, and carpets were assigned for my use; and in an instant i found myself sipping my coffee and smoking my chibouk, surrounded with all those comforts the want of which is so sorely felt by those who travel in certain parts of the east. in toklouk, kooz, and otouz, which we passed through successively, the flat-roofed tatar houses are, as everywhere else, backed against the hills that flank the valley. by this means the inhabitants are enabled to keep up a communication with each other by the terrace tops of their houses, where they regularly carry on their work, and which are formed of stout carpentry covered with a thick bed of clay. nothing can be more picturesque than the appearance, at evening, of all these terraces rising in gradations one above the other. at that period of the day the whole population of each village is on the alert; and quitting the dark rooms in which they had sheltered from the heat of the day, men, women, and children gather on the roofs; animation, mirth, and the din of tongues, takes place of the silence of day, and the observer is never weary of watching the picturesque scenes formed by the various groups engaged in their household occupations. at koktebel, a little village on the sea shore, twenty-nine versts from soudagh, the sombre headland kara dagh terminates the bolder scenery of the crimea. beyond that point the country presents no picturesque features; vast plains gradually succeed the hills, and as the traveller advances he is forewarned by various tokens of his approach to the steppes, which form all the northern part of the peninsula, and extend eastward of the old genoese colony to the shores of the cimmerian bosphorus. along the whole line from soudagh to theodosia there is not one point, not one monument or ruin to interest the historian or the antiquarian. indeed the nature of the coast, now abrupt, now formed of great unsheltered flats, does not seem to favour the foundation of a town or of a harbour, whether for war or commerce. we are now arrived at theodosia or caffa, formerly the splendid metropolis of the genoese dominion in the black sea, now a russian town, stripped of all political and commercial importance. the genius of barbarous destruction has wrought still more deplorable effects here than at soldaya or any other spot in the crimea. theodosia was founded by the milesians in the early times of their expedition to the pontus euxinus, and long prospered as an independent colony. it was afterwards incorporated into the kingdom of the bosphorus, and shared its destinies for many centuries. the alans, a barbarous people from the heart of asia, appeared in the crimea about the middle of the first century of our era; theodosia was sacked by them, and sixty years afterwards arrian speaks of it in his _periplus of the black sea_ as a town entirely deserted. the huns subsequently completed what the alans had begun, and left not a vestige to indicate the true position of the old milesian colony. ten centuries after the destruction of theodosia, other navigators not less intelligent or enterprising than the milesians, landed on the crimean coasts; and soon there arose on the site of the greek city another equally remarkable city, the annals of which form unquestionably one of the finest chapters in the political and commercial history of the black sea. it was in the middle of the thirteenth century, after the conquest of the crimea by the mongols, when three potent republics were contending for the empire of the seas, that the genoese, entering the bay of theodosia, obtained from prince oran timour the grant of a small portion of ground on the coast. the colony of caffa was regularly founded in , and so rapid was its rise, that in nine years from that date it was able, without impairing its own means of defence, to send nine galleys to the succour of tripoli, then besieged by the saracens.[ ] the foundation of caffa increased the rancorous strife between genoa and her potent rival of the adriatic. the crimean colony was surprised by twenty venetian galleys in the year , and totally destroyed. in the following year the genoese again took possession of their territory; caffa quickly rose from its ruins, and twenty years afterwards pope john xxii. made it a bishop's see. war having broke out with the tatars in , djanibeck khan, sovereign of kaptchak, laid siege to caffa. the genoese came off victorious in this warfare, but the dangers to which they were exposed made them feel the need of a strong system of fortifications. the earthen ramparts and the palisades of the town were, therefore, replaced by thick and lofty walls, flanked by towers, and surrounded by a deep, wide ditch, faced with solid masonry. these magnificent works, whose excellence and gigantic proportions may still be admired by the traveller, were begun in , and finished in . the most remarkable tower, that at the southern corner which commands the whole town, was dedicated to the memory of pope clement vi., in an inscription relating to the crusade preached by that pontiff at the time when the tatars were invading the colony. from that period the prosperity of caffa augmented incessantly; it attracted to itself the trade of the most remote regions of asia, and according to the statement of its historians it soon equalled in extent and population the capital of the greek empire, which it surpassed in industry and opulence. the genoese colony had thus reached the apogee of its glory and might in the middle of the fifteenth century, when the taking of constantinople by mahomet ii. cut it off from the metropolis, and prepared its entire destruction. on the st of june, , a fleet of vessels, commanded by the high admiral achmet pacha, appeared before caffa, which was immediately bombarded by the formidable ottoman artillery. the attack was of short duration; large portions of the walls, erected at a period when the use of cannons was unknown, were rapidly dismantled; breaches were made in all directions, and the besieged were forced to surrender at discretion on the th of june, , after ineffectually attempting to obtain terms of capitulation. achmet pacha entered caffa as an incensed victor and an enemy of the christian name. after taking possession of the consular palace, he disarmed the population, imposed an enormous fine on the town, and then seized half the property of the inhabitants, and all the slaves of both sexes. the latin catholics were shipped on board the turkish fleet and carried to constantinople, where the sultan, established them by force in the suburbs of his new capital, after taking from them male children to be brought up as members of his guard. thus was annihilated in the space of a few days, after years of glorious existence, that magnificent establishment which the genius of europe had erected on those remote shores, and which had shed such lustre on the commerce of the black sea. caffa, the destruction of which was immediately followed by that of soldaya and cembalo, was annexed to the turkish dominions, and for upwards of years had no other importance than what it derived from its turkish garrison and its military position on the shore of a mussulman region, the absolute conquest of which never ceased to be an object of the porte's ambition. in the middle of the seventeenth century, the old genoese city awoke from its long trance, and in consequence of the commercial and industrial movement which then took place among the tatars, it again became the great trading port of the black sea. chardin, on his journey to persia in , found more than vessels in the bay of caffa. the town, to which the turks then gave the name of koutchouk stamboul (little constantinople) contained houses, with a population exceeding , souls. the new prosperity of caffa was short lived. from the time of peter the great russia pursued her threatening advance towards the regions of the black sea, and in , in the reign of the empress catherine ii., the crimea was finally incorporated with the muscovite empire. caffa now accomplished the last stage of its destinies; it lost even officially its time-honoured name, and under the pompous appellation of the greek colony, bestowed on it by the emperor alexander, it became a paltry district town, to which authentic documents assign at the present day scarcely inhabitants. at caffa, just as at soldaya, the construction of useless barracks occasioned the demolition of the genoese edifices. the facings of the ditches were first carried off, and then, emboldened by the deplorable indifference of the government, the destroyers laid hands on the walls themselves. the magnificent towers that defended them were pulled down, and there now remain only three fragments of walls belonging to the remarkable bastion erected in honour of pope clement vi. when the genoese fortifications had been destroyed, the civil monuments next fell under the ruthless vandalism of the authorities. at the time the russians took possession, two imposing edifices adorned the principal square of caffa, the great turkish baths, an admirable model of oriental architecture, and the ancient episcopal church of the genoese, built in the beginning of the fourteenth century, and converted into a mosque after the turkish conquest. it was decided in the reign of catherine ii. that the mosque should be restored to the greek church, but unfortunately instead of preserving it unaltered, the fatal project of adorning it with wretched doric porticoes was adopted. the elegant domes that so gracefully encompassed the main building were, therefore, demolished; but scarcely were the bases of the columns laid when a trifling deficit occurred in the funds, as m. dubois relates, and thenceforth the government refused to make any further advances. the beautiful mosque which had been quickly stripped of its lead, to be sold, of course, for the benefit of the russian officials, was thus abandoned to the mutilations of time and of the population, and soon became a mere ruin. in , the ignorance of a civil governor, kasnatcheief, completed this afflicting work of destruction, which extended at the same time to the great baths that still remained untouched. a fortnight's work with the pickaxe and gunpowder razed to the ground the two admirable monuments with which the genoese and the turks had adorned the town. when i visited theodosia in , the great square was still obstructed with their precious materials, which the local administration was eager to dispose of at a low price to whoever would buy them. of all the splendid edifices of the genoese colony two churches alone have escaped the destroyer; art owes their preservation to the catholics and the armenians. for a very long time those two foreign communities struggled against the indifference of the government, and strove to obtain its aid for the repair of their edifices; but their applications were all unsuccessful, and it was by great personal sacrifices that they succeeded in recent times in themselves effecting the restoration of their temples. if we turn our attention from the interior of the town to its environs, we are still afflicted by the same spectacle of destruction. all the thriving fields and orchards that encompassed the town in the time of the tatars have disappeared. two muscovite regiments annihilated in a single winter all trace of the rich cultivation that formerly clothed the hills. there is a museum in theodosia, but except some genoese inscriptions, foremost among which is that of the famous tower of clement vi., it contains no remains belonging to the ancient milesian colony. all the antiquities it possesses come exclusively from kertsch (panticapea), and were brought to theodosia at a period when that town was still the chief seat of the administration of the crimea. dr. grapperon, a frenchman, is the director of the museum. he never fails to mystify the antiquaries who pass through his town, by exhibiting to them a pretended female torso, found in the heart of the crimean mountains; but the cunning old man knows very well that his chef-d'oeuvre is only a _lusus naturæ_. notwithstanding all the depredations of the authorities, and the stupid ignorance of a governor, caffa has not been entirely metamorphosed into a russian town. its chief edifices have been demolished, its walls razed, its tatar population expelled, and solitude has succeeded to its former animation, yet the general appearance of the city, its various private buildings, and its streets paved with large flags, all bespeak a foreign origin and a foreign rule. long may the town preserve this picturesque aspect, which reminds the traveller of that of the little mediterranean seaports. after three days spent in exploring the ruins of the genoese colony, days rendered doubly agreeable by the varied and instructive conversation of my kind cicerone, m. felix lagorio,[ ] i set out again to continue my investigations as far as the most eastern point of the crimea. it is from the point where the last hills of the crimean chain subside at the foot of the walls of theodosia that the celebrated peninsula of kertch begins, which extends between the black sea and the sea of azof to the shores of the cimmerian bosphorus. as i traversed its now deserted and arid plains, where nothing seems formed to arrest the attention for a single moment, my mind went back with astonishment to those glorious times when flourished the numerous opulent towns which the colonising genius of the milesians erected in these regions. theodosia, nimphea, mirmikione, and on the other side of the strait phanagoria, crowded the brilliant historic scene called up by my recollections; but above them all stood panticapea, the celebrated capital of the kingdom of the bosphorus, where greek elegance and civilisation reigned for so many ages, and where mithridates died after having for a while menaced the existence of the roman empire. while my imagination was thus reconstructing the splendid panorama which the peninsula must have presented when the bosphorians had covered it with their rich establishments, the russian pereclatnoi was carrying me along through vast solitudes, where i sought in vain to discover some traces of that ancient greek dominion, the grandeur and prosperity of which were extolled by herodotus five centuries before the christian era. towards evening only, as i approached the bosphorus, my curiosity was strongly excited by the singular indentations which the steppe exhibited along the line of the horizon, and soon afterwards i found myself in the midst of one of the chief necropolises of the ancient milesian city. huge cones of earth rose around me, and numerous coral crags, mingled with the mounds erected by the hands of men, enhanced the grandeur of this singular cemetery. on reaching the extremity of the plateau, i could overlook the whole extent of the cimmerian bosphorus. the last rays of the setting sun were colouring the cliffs on the asiatic side, and the triangular sails of some fishing boats; the many tumuli of phanagoria stood in full relief against the blue sky, and whilst the melancholy hue of evening was gradually stealing upon the smooth waters of the channel, the deeply-marked shadow of cape akbouroun was already spreading far over them. i had but a few seconds to admire these magnificent effects of light and shade: the sun dipped below the horizon, and twilight immediately invested the scene with its uniform hues. ten minutes afterwards i entered kertch, a russian town of yesterday, stretching along the sea at the foot of the celebrated rock which popular tradition has decked with the name of mithridates' chair. it was on the side of this mountain, formerly crowned by an acropolis, that the capital of the kingdom of the bosphorus expanded like an amphitheatre. a few mutilated fragments are all that now exist of panticapea; the hill on which it stood is parched, bare, and rent by deep ravines, and modern archæologists have had much difficulty in positively determining the site of the most celebrated of the milesian colonies. having taken up my quarters in kertch under the hospitable roof of m. menestrier, one of the most agreeable of my countrymen i have met in my travels, i set earnestly about my excursions, and through the obliging kindness of prince kherkeoulitchev, the governor of the town, i was soon in possession of all the data requisite to guide me in my researches. i shall not, however, obtrude upon the reader all the archæological notes with which i enriched my journal, while exploring the tombs and monuments of panticapea, since i have been anticipated in this respect by others more competent in such matters, especially m. dubois montperreux. in roaming about the environs of kertch, among the innumerable tumuli, that served as tombs for the sovereigns and wealthy citizens of panticapea, one is instantly struck by the exceedingly slovenly and mischievous manner in which every opening of these mounds has been performed during the last twenty years. instead of seeking to preserve these precious monuments bequeathed unaltered to them by so many generations, the russians have been only bent on destroying them, in order to arrive the sooner at the discovery of the valuable contents thought to be enclosed within them. all the tumuli _against_ which official exploratory operations have been directed, have been totally demolished, or cut in four by wide trenches from the summit to the base, and no one has even thought of effecting the required researches by means either of a vertical shaft or by tunnelling. i have visited all the chief points where the destructive genius of the muscovite archæologists has been exercised; but it would be impossible for me to describe the grief i felt at the sight of such horrible devastation. they have not contented themselves with destroying the form of the monuments; the inner chambers and the mortal remains within them have been no more respected than the earth and stones that had protected them for so many ages from all profanation. the bones have everywhere been taken out of the tombs, and exposed on the surface of the ground to the inclemency of the weather. m. menestrier, of whom i have spoken above, and whose generous indignation has not spared the directors of these operations, had one day to bury with his own hands the still entire skeleton of a young woman. i have myself seen soldiers warming themselves at large fires which they fed with the precious fragments of wooden sarcophagi they had just discovered. among the various tumuli, that situated near the quarantine establishment north of the town, unquestionably deserved especial attention on the part of the local administration. considering the gigantic dimensions of its central chamber and gallery, both having corbelled ceilings, it was a truly unique monument, which the government should have been solicitous to transmit unimpaired to future generations. the entrance gallery is . mètres long, . wide, and . high. the five lower courses forming the basement are each . thick. then come twelve other courses, only . high, and rising in corbels so as to form a series of regular projections on the interior of . . the two upper courses, which have an interval of . between them, instead of being joined by keystones, are merely covered with large flags laid flat in mortar. the stability of such ceilings is evidently contrary to all the rules of art, and it is probable that in erecting them the builders must have used numerous wooden props and trusts, until the whole structure was consolidated by a sufficient load of earth. a rectangular opening at the end of the gallery three mètres high and . wide, gives admission into the interior of the central chamber or cupola. the base of the cupola consists of four courses, of . to . in thickness, forming a total height of . . the ground plan of this part is an irregular square, the sides of which are . , . , . and . . above the fifth course the four angles are filled in by stones forming a circular projection of . in the line of the diagonal. the same thing is repeated in the succeeding courses. the curved portions thus gradually increase in extent, until at the ninth course they form together a complete circle, the diameter of which diminishes with each succeeding course, until at top there is only a circular opening of . diameter, which is closed in the same manner as the upper part of the entrance gallery. the total height of the cupola is . . the material is tertiary shell limestone, large quarries of which exist in the neighbourhood. of all the tombs recently explored by the russians, that of the quarantine is the only one which had been previously opened. it was found completely empty. the first examination appears to have occurred at a very early date; perhaps at the time when the genoese possessed the small fort of cerco, at the foot of the mountain of panticapea. of the tombs with semi-circular arches, that discovered in the summer of is among the most remarkable. it consists of two distinct chambers communicating with each other. in the centre of the inner one was found a wooden sarcophagus with a male skeleton having a crown of dead gold on the skull. it was from this sarcophagus that the wooden target was taken representing a fight between a stag and a griffin, which i have presented to the cabinet of antiquities of the bibliothèque du roi. another coffin found in the centre of the outer chamber contained a female skeleton in a wonderful state of preservation. the smallest bones of the fingers and toes were perfect, and where the skull lay was seen a large quantity of light brown hair. the garments even retained their form and colour, but they fell to pieces at the least touch. in this chamber, to the right on entering, there was a small niche, in which had been deposited the body of a child, with a bronze lamp and two lacrymatories, one of them of glass, beside it. i have the last two in my possession. in , when i first explored the remains of panticapea, this remarkable tomb, which excited the admiration of all artists, served as a place of shelter for the cattle of the neighbourhood, and its fine entrance gallery was falling to ruin. some months after my departure the work of destruction was carried on in the face of day, and the magnificent pavement of the chamber was shamelessly carried off. at soudagh and theodosia, i could in some degree account for the disastrous effects of administrative recklessness; the ignorant governors to whom was committed the sole custody of the antiquities of those towns, could see in the buildings of past ages only a quarry to be worked for their own profit. but at kertch, which possesses a museum, and a committee of _savans_ to superintend the processes for exploring its antiquities, such destruction appeared to me quite incomprehensible. it is true the russian government cares little about the preservation of monuments, even of such as directly concern its own history; it granted only paper rubles for the investigations, and seems in reality to be interested only about objects of art, such as etruscan vases, gold ornaments, small statues, &c., which may serve to decorate the rooms of the hermitage; but there exists in southern russia a numerous society of antiquaries, officially constituted, and there cannot be a question, that if it would or could fulfil in some small degree the nominal purpose of its creation, it would immediately obtain from the emperor all the necessary supplies for the conservation of the monuments in the peninsula of kertch. unhappily, that general indifference to intellectual pursuits, which we have dwelt on in a preceding chapter, prevails as much with regard to archeology as any thing else. when i examined the exploring works, and conversed with the learned gentlemen that directed them, i could not help seeing before me, instead of the love of knowledge, palpable evidence of private interest and ambition employing all means to rise in the nobiliary scale of the empire; and whilst the russian journals trumpeted forth the admirable discoveries made in the name of the history of mankind, every man of those who were disturbing the ashes of the ancient panticapea thought only of augmenting his own income, or gaining a grade or a decoration. another proof how secondary a consideration in these researches is the interest of learning and history, is the scandalous neglect of the sarcophagi, the bas-reliefs, the architectural fragments, and, in a word, all the large sculptures that cannot be sent to st. petersburg and laid before his majesty. when i visited the museum of kertch, i found the approaches to the building filled with antiques, which lay on the ground without any shelter. the noses and chins of the principal figures on the bas-reliefs had just been broken, perhaps that very morning; yet the learned committee had not thought of making the least complaint, so little importance did it attach to the matter. in passing through the various halls of the museum, i everywhere noticed the same negligence, and tokens of incessant pillage. among other relics the destruction of which i had to deplore, i was shown the remains of a magnificent wooden sarcophagus, which had been found in perfect condition. it was enriched with greek carvings, the prominent parts of which were gilded, and the hollow parts painted red, and it was in my opinion the most interesting piece in the museum. thanks, however, to the obliging disposition shown by the keepers towards strangers, i doubt if a fragment or two of it yet remain at this moment. we should never have done, if we were to recite all the acts of vandalism and depredation of which the museum of kertch has been the theatre. the details which we have given will sufficiently indicate the value of the archeological labours carried on upon the site of the ancient panticapea; may the remonstrances we here put forth in the name of art, literature, and science, attract the notice of all those russians who take a real interest in the historical monuments of their country. footnotes: [ ] superbi discordes et desides græci a genuensibus italis fracti et debilitati civitatem eam amiserant (martini briniovii tartaria, ). [ ] cum obsidionem diuturnam ac famem, genuenses diutius ferre nee impetum tam numerosi exercitus turcorum sustinere amplius possent, in maximum tempum illud, quod adhuc ibi integrum est, centeni aliquot vel mille fere viri egregii sese receperant, et per dies aliquot in arce inferiori in quam turcæ irruperant fortiter et animose sese defendentes, insigni et memorabili turcarum strage edita tandem in templo illo universi concidere.--ibid. [ ] for a more detailed description of the ruins of soudagh, see the remarkable work of m. dubois de montperreux. paris, . [ ] giust. ann. di genova, lib. iii. [ ] formerly french consul at theodosia; deprived of his place for his opinions upon the return of the bourbons, and now filling the humble functions of neapolitan consular agent. he is the author of a valuable work on the political revolutions of the crimea. chapter xli. political and commercial revolutions of the crimea. extent and character of surface--milesian and heraclean colonies--kingdom of the bosphorus--export and import trade in the times of the greek republics--mithridates--the kingdom of the bosphorus under the romans--the alans and goths--situation of the republic of kherson--the huns; destruction of the kingdom of the bosphorus--the khersonites put themselves under the protection of the byzantine empire --dominion of the khazars--the petchenegues and komans--the kingdom of little tatary--rise and fall of the genoese colonies--the crimea under the tatars--its conquest by the russians. the crimea comprises a surface of about square geographic leagues, divided into two distinct regions. the first of these is mountainous, and forms a strip of about ninety-five english miles in length along the southern coast, with a mean breadth of from twelve to sixteen miles; the second, the region of the plains, presents all the characters of the steppes of southern russia, and extends northward to the isthmus of perecop, which connects the peninsula with the continent. the crimea now forms part of the government called the taurid, the territory of which extends beyond perecop, between the dniepr and the sea of azof, to the th degree of latitude. simpheropol is its chief town. in order to give a clear conception of the political and commercial importance of the crimea, which, by its almost central position in the black sea, commands at once the coasts of asia, the mouths of the danube, and the entrance to the constantinopolitan bosphorus, it is indispensable to present a rapid sketch of the numerous revolutions which the march of time and the invasions of peoples have effected in that important peninsula. it was in the middle of the seventh century before christ, that the milesians made their appearance on the northern shores of the euxine. the eastern part of the tauris, an open country and easy of occupation, having attracted their attention, they founded their first colonies there, possessing themselves at the same time of all the little region which we now call the peninsula of kertch. the agricultural prosperity which they soon attained, was quickly known in greece, whence it occasioned fresh and important emigrations. theodosia, nymphea, panticapea, and mermikion, were erected on the shore of the little peninsula, and served as seaports for the thriving colonists. the success of the milesians stimulated the heracleans to follow their example. they chose the most western part of the country, landed not far from the celebrated cape perthenica, and after having beaten the savage natives and driven them back into the mountains, they settled in the little peninsula of trachea, known in our day by the name of the ancient khersonesus. thus were laid the foundations of the celebrated republic of kherson, which subsisted, great and prosperous, for more than years, and the capital of which having become the temporary conquest of a grand duke of russia, in the tenth century, was the starting point of that great religious revolution which completely changed the face and the destinies of the muscovite empire. whilst the heracleans were consolidating their power by improving their trade, the milesian settlements on the bosphorus were growing up with magic rapidity, and were spreading even beyond the strait to the asiatic coast, where the towns of phanagoria, hermonassa, and kepos were founded. at first all these milesian colonies were independent of each other, but at last they became united into the kingdom of the bosphorus, b.c. . as agriculture formed the basis of the public wealth of the milesians, it became the object of the new government's peculiar attention. on his accession to the throne, leucon relieved the athenians of the thirtieth imposed on exported corn, in consequence of which liberal measure those exports increased prodigiously; the cimmerian peninsula became the granary of greece, and merchants flocked to theodosia and panticapea, where they procured at the same time wool, furs, and all those salted provisions, which still constitute one of the chief riches of southern russia. as for the import trade, of which history says little, it is easy to conceive the nature of its operations from the important archeological discoveries of panticapea. the bosphorians undoubtedly received in exchange for their produce, all the manufactured goods which wealth and luxury had brought into vogue in athens, and it was probably greek artists who executed all those magnificent objects of art which are contained in the museum of kertch, and which prove that the agricultural colonists of the tauris did not fall short of the opulence of their brilliant mother city. building materials seem to have formed an important item of importation. there is no trace of white marble either in the crimea or on the northern coasts of the black sea; nevertheless, large quantities have been found in the excavations made at kertch, and there is every reason to presume that the huge masses of cut marble employed in the public and private buildings, were imported ready wrought from greece. despite the dangerous vicinity of the sarmatians, the kingdom of the bosphorus enjoyed perfect tranquillity for above three hundred years, and through a steady and rational policy increased in prosperity and riches, until the conquest of greece by the romans subverted all the commercial relations of the east. at that period the bosphorians, attacked by the scythians, and too weak to resist them, threw themselves into the arms of the celebrated mithridates, who turned their state into a province of the pontus, and bestowed it as an appanage on his son makhares. after the defeat and death of her implacable enemy, rome maintained the traitor pharnaces in possession of the crown of the bosphorus; but the new prince's sovereignty was merely nominal, and the successors of the son of mithridates, powerless and despoiled of all the milesians had possessed on the asiatic shore of the strait, reigned only in accordance with the caprice of the roman emperors. about the middle of the first century after christ, the alans entered the tauris, devastated the greater part of the country, and entirely destroyed theodosia, which had offered them some resistance. they were followed by the goths, who in their turns became masters of the peninsula. but far from abusing their victory, they blended their race with that of the vanquished, founded numerous colonies on the vast plains north of the mountainous region, and followed their natural bent for a sedentary life and rural occupations. the tauric khersonese now entered on a fresh period of tranquillity and agricultural prosperity. unfortunately, greece was at this period rapidly declining under the roman yoke; rome having become the capital of the whole world, egypt, sicily, and africa had naturally acquired to themselves the monopoly of the supply of corn; so that with all its efforts the tauris could not emerge from the depression into which it had been plunged by the political events of the first christian century. the remote and inaccessible position of the little republic of kherson, preserved its independence during all these early barbarian invasions. in diocletian's time, the khersonites, whose dominions extended over nearly the whole of the elevated country, had concentrated in their own hands almost all the commerce that still existed between the tauris and some parts of the shores of the black sea.[ ] their republic was the most powerful state of the peninsula, when war broke out between them and the sarmatians, who had already seized the kingdom of the bosphorus, and given it a king of their own nation. the struggle between the two rival nations lasted nearly a century, and the sarmatians having been at last expelled, the bosphorians again enjoyed some years of freedom and quiet. but the peace was not of long duration. the unfortunate peninsula was soon visited by the most violent tempest that had yet desolated it. the huns, from the heart of asia, came down to the asiatic side of the strait, and soon the terrified bosphorians beheld those furious hordes traversing the sea of azof, which had for a while arrested their progress. the ancient kingdom of the milesians was then extinguished for ever. (a.d. .) the numerous colonies of united goths and alans shared the same fate, and all the rich agricultural establishments of the country were reduced to ashes. still protected by their isolated position, the khersonites alone escaped the devastation, in consequence of the rapidity with which the torrent of the invaders rushed forth towards the western regions of europe. the tauris was still suffering under the effects of the frightful disasters inflicted on it by the huns, when it was again ravaged by their disbanded hordes, after the death of attila. the khersonites were now in jeopardy, and in their alarm, they sought the protection of the eastern empire. justinian, who then reigned at constantinople, acceded to their request, but he made them pay dear for the imperial protection. under pretence of providing for the defence of the country, he erected the two strong fortresses of alouchta and gourzoubita, on the southern coast, and the republic of kherson became tributary to the empire. in the latter part of the seventh century (a.d. ) the tauris was invaded by the khazars, hordes that having accompanied the huns, had settled in bersilia (lithuania), and had been formed into an independent kingdom by attila himself. the apparition of these new conquerors, already masters of a vast territory, made such a sensation at constantinople, that their alliance was courted by the sovereigns of the east, and the emperor leo even asked for his son the hand of the daughter of the kalgan, or chief of the nation. the forebodings of the imperial government were soon realised, for in the short space of years the khazars, who had given their own name to the peninsula, founded a vast monarchy, the limits of which extended in europe beyond the danube, and in asia to the foot of the caucasus. after the khazars, whose fall was caused chiefly by the attacks of the russians, and who thenceforth disappeared entirely from the records of history, the victorious petchenegues ruled over the whole land except the southern territory of kherson, which was incorporated with the empire of the east. under the sway of this other asiatic people, the trade and commerce of the peninsula revived, its intercourse with constantinople resumed activity, and the tauric ports supplied the merchants of the lower empire with purple, fine stuffs, embroidered cloths, ermines, leopard skins, furs of all kinds, pepper, and spices, which the petchenegues purchased in eastern russia, south of the kouban, and in the transcaucasian regions that extend to the banks of the cyrus and the araxes. thus began again for this unfortunate country a new era of prosperity, unexampled for many previous centuries. the dominion of the petchenegues lasted years, and then they themselves endured the fate they had inflicted on the khazars. assailed by the comans, whom the growth of the mongol power had expelled from their own territory, they were beaten and forced to return into asia. the comans, a warlike people, made soldaya their capital; but they had scarcely consolidated their power when they were obliged to give place to other conquerors, and seek an abode in regions further west. with the expulsion of the comans ceased all those transient invasions which dyed the soil of the tauris with blood during ten centuries. the various hordes that have left nothing but their name in history, were succeeded by two remarkable peoples: the one, victorious over asia, had just founded the most gigantic empire of the middle ages; the other, issuing from a trading city of italy, was destined to make khazaria the nucleus of all the commercial relations between europe and asia. with the mongol invasion of , the empire of the tzars entered on that fatal period of servitude and oppression which has left such pernicious traces in the national character of the muscovites. russia, poland, and hungary, were successively overrun by the hordes of the celebrated grandson of genghis khan; khazaria was added to their enormous conquests, and became, under the name of little tatary, the cradle of a potent state, which maintained its independence down to the end of the eighteenth century. under the yoke of the mongols the tauris, after being oppressed at first, soon recovered; soldaya was restored to the christians, and soon proved that the resources of the country were not exhausted, and that nothing but peace and quiet were wanted to develop the elements of wealth with which nature had so liberally endowed it. in a few years soldaya became the most important port of the black sea, and one of the great termini of the commercial lines between europe and asia. the greatness of soldaya was, however, of short duration: another people, more active, and endowed with a bolder spirit of mercantile enterprise than the greeks, came forward about the same period, and concentrated in its own hands the whole heritage of the great epochs that had successively shed lustre on the peninsula from the day when the milesians founded their first colonies on the cimmerian bosphorus. being already possessed of important factories in constantinople, the genoese had long been aware of the circumstances of the black sea, and the immense resources it would place at the disposal of enterprising men who should there centralise for their own profit all the commercial relations of europe with russia, persia, and the indies. the rivalry which then existed between them and the venetians, accelerated the execution of their projects, and in , after having secured the territory of the ancient theodosia, partly by fraud, partly by force, they laid the foundation of the celebrated caffa, through which they became sure masters of the black sea, and sole proprietors of its commerce. with the arrival of the genoese the tauris saw the most brilliant epochs of its history revived. caffa became by its greatness, its population, and its opulence, in some degree the rival of constantinople, and its consuls, possessing themselves of cerco, soldaya, and cembalo, made themselves masters of all the southern coast of the crimea. other equally profitable conquests were subsequently made beyond the peninsula. the galleys of the republic entered the palus mæotis; tana, on the mouth of the don, was wrested from the tatars; a fortress was erected at the mouth of the dniestr; several factories were established in colchis, and on the caucasian coast, and even the imperial town of trebisond was forced to admit one of the most important factories of the republic on the black sea. the genoese colonies thus became the general emporium of the rich productions of russia, asia minor, persia, and the indies; they monopolised for more than two centuries all the traffic between europe and asia, and presented a marvellous spectacle of thriving greatness. all this glory had an end. mahomet's standard was planted over the dome of st. sophia in , and the intercourse of the crimea with the mediterranean was broken off. the destruction of the genoese settlements was then inevitable; and the republic, despairing of their preservation, assigned them over to the bank of st. george, on the th of november, . the consequences of this cession which put an end to the political connexion of the colonies with the mother state, were of course disastrous. despair and loss of public spirit fell upon the colonists, individual selfishness predominated in all their councils, and the consular government, before remarkable for its integrity and its virtues, instead of uniting with the tatars, and rendering its own position with regard to the porte less perilous, completely disgusted them by a total want of honesty, and by selling its aid for gold to all the parties that were desolating the crimea. so many faults were followed by the natural catastrophe. caffa was forced to surrender at discretion to the turks on the th of june, , and some months afterwards all the points occupied by the genoese fell one by one into the hands of the ottomans. after the disaster of the genoese colonies, the great lines of communication of the trans-caucasian regions, the caspian, the volga, the don, and the kouban, were broken, having lost their feeders, and all the commercial relations with central asia were for a while suspended. the venetians, who had obtained from the turks the right of navigating the black sea, in consideration of a yearly tribute of , ducats, strove in vain to take the place their rivals had lost; they were expelled in their turn from the black sea, the dardanelles were closed against all the nations of the west, and the turks and their subjects, the greeks of the archipelago, alone possessed the privilege of passing through the strait. in our remarks on the caspian we have already pointed out the new outlets which the eastern trade procured for itself by way of smyrna, and the great revolution which followed vasco de gama's discovery. under the reign of the first khans, who were tributary to the porte, the crimea lost all its commercial and agricultural importance. continual wars, and incessant revolts, sometimes favoured, sometimes punished by the porte, added to the still deeply-rooted habits of a nomade and vagabond existence, for many years precluded the regeneration of the country. but a rich fertile soil, and a country abundantly provided with all the resources necessary to man, triumphed over the natural indolence of the tatars, just as they had done before by the savage hordes that successively invaded the tauris. the hill sides and valleys became covered with villages, and all branches of native industry increased rapidly with the internal tranquillity of the country. the corn, cattle, timber, resins, fish, and salt of little tatary furnished freights for a multitude of vessels. the commerce of central asia, it is true, was lost for it beyond recovery, but the exportation of its native produce and of that which russia sent to it by the don and the sea of azof, was more than sufficient to keep its people in a very thriving, if not an opulent condition. caffa shared in the general improvement; it rose again from its ruins, became the commercial centre of the country, as in the time of the genoese, and its advancement was such, that the turks bestowed on it the flattering name of koutchouk stamboul (little constantinople). the dominion of the khans extended at this period, in europe and asia, from the banks of the danube to the foot of the mountains of the caucasus, and the indomitable mountaineers of circassia themselves often did homage to the sovereigns of the tauris. the mussulman population was divided in those days into two great classes: the descendants of the first conquerors, known by the special designation of tatars; and the nogais, nomade tribes who, subsequently to the conquest, had come and put themselves under the protection of the illustrious batou khan. the former, mixed up with the remains of the ancient possessors, formed the civilised part of the nation. possessing the mountainous regions, and residing in towns and villages, they were both agriculturists and manufacturers; whilst the nogais, who lived in a manner independently in southern russia, applied themselves solely to cattle rearing. they were at that time divided into five principal hordes: the boudjiak occupied the plains of bessarabia from the mouths of the danube to the dniestr; the yedisan, the largest, which could bring into the field , horsemen, encamped between the dniestr and the dniepr; the djamboiluk and jedickhoul, the remnants of which still inhabit the territory of their ancestors, extended from the banks of the dniepr to the western coasts of the sea of azof; lastly, the tribes of the kouban, nomadised in the steppes between that river and the don, which now form the domain of the black sea cossacks. all these tribes collectively could, in case of urgent necessity, bring into the field upwards of , men. such was the political condition of little tatary, when the russian conquest of the provinces of the sea of azof and the black sea destroyed all the fruits of the great social revolution which had been effected in the habits of the mussulmans by the new development of trade and commerce. the first muscovite invasion took place in . a hundred thousand men, commanded by field-marshal munich forced the isthmus of perecop, entered the peninsula, and laid waste the whole country, up to the northern slope of the tauric chain. the peace of belgrade put an end to this first inroad, but the political existence of little tatary was, nevertheless, violently shaken; and from that time forth the khans were kept in continual perplexity by the secret or armed interventions of russia, their subjects were stimulated to revolt, and they themselves were but puppets moved by the court of st. petersburg. in , sahem guerai abdicated in favour of the empress catherine ii., and the kingdom of the tatars, exhausted by extensive emigrations and bloody insurrections, finally ceased to exist; and then perished rapidly the last elements of the prosperity of a land that had been so often ravaged, and had always emerged victoriously from its disasters. previously to this period, in , the irresistible command of russia had determined the emigration of all the greek and armenian families of the peninsula, and an agricultural and trading population had been seen to quit, voluntarily as russia pretends, fertile regions, and a favouring climate, to settle in the savage steppes of the don and the sea of azof. about the same period, and under the same influence, began the emigration of the tatars and nogais, some of whom retired into turkey, others joined the mountaineers of the caucasus. the russian occupation accelerated this disastrous movement, and on the day when the tzars extended their frontiers to the banks of the dniestr, the celebrated horde of yedisan disappeared entirely from the soil of the empire. the tatars of the region between the dniepr and the sea of azof did not emigrate in such numbers as the others, for the imperial government had hemmed them in, even previously to the conquest, by formidable military lines on the east and on the west. the heaviest calamities fell, of course, on the peninsula, which was covered with fixed settlements, and was the centre of the tatar civilisation and power, and there the scenes of carnage and devastation which had marked the irruption of the barbarians from asia were renewed in all their horrors. the peninsula lost at least nine-tenths of its population; its towns were given up to pillage, its fields laid waste; and in the space of a few months that region which had been still so nourishing under its last khan, exhibited but one vast spectacle of oppression, misery, and devastation. since that period there have elapsed sixty years, during which the russian domination has never had any resistance to encounter or revolt to quell; and yet, notwithstanding the opening of the dardanelles, the tauris has been unable, to this day, to rise from the deep depression into which it was sunk by the political events of the close of the eighteenth century. it is true, no doubt, that very handsome villas have been erected on the southern coast, and that luxurious opulence has made that region its chosen seat; but the vital and productive forces of the peninsula have been smothered, its trade and agriculture have been destroyed; and that bootless quietude in which the dwindled population of the tatars now vegetates, results, in fact, only from the destruction of all material resources, and the extinction of all moral and intellectual energy which have come to pass under the sway of the russian administration. footnotes: [ ] const. porph. de adm. imp., c. xiii. chapter xlii. commercial polity of russia in the crimea--caffa sacrificed in favour of kertch--these two ports compared--the quarantine at the entrance of the sea of azof, and its consequences--commerce of kertch--vineyards of the crimea; the valley of soudak--agriculture--cattle--horticulture-- manufactures; morocco leather--destruction of the goats-- decay of the forests--salt works--general table of the commerce of the crimea--prospects of the tatar population. when the russian authority was fully established in the crimea, and the inevitable disasters attending the occupation of a country by muscovite troops had subsided, the imperial government seemed for a while disposed to rekindle the embers of the peninsular prosperity. the emperor alexander was personally acquainted with the intrinsic value of the country, and manifested the best and most earnest intentions in its favour; but unfortunately he could not overcome the inveterate habits of the russian functionaries, and their utter indifference to the true interests of the empire. half measures, therefore, were all that was effected; custom-houses and quarantines were established, caffa exchanged its name for that of the milesian colony, german villages were founded,[ ] large grants of land were made to russians and strangers, vines were planted, and the cultivation of the olive was attempted; but all capital questions were overlooked or misconceived; no thought was given to the matter of markets or to commercial relations; and the government persisting in its prohibitive system, assimilated the crimea to the other provinces, in spite of strong remonstrances, and repudiated all thoughts of mercantile freedom, the only means by which it could have given new life to the crimea, and created an active and industrious population in the place of the tatar tribes, of whom war and emigration had deprived the country. but in lieu of such privileges caffa was from the first endowed with a tribunal of commerce, a quarantine, and a custom-house of the first class; and if it could not recover its old greatness under the new domination, it might at least have expected to become one of the chief places of export and import in southern russia, within the bounds prescribed by the exigencies of the customs. situated at the extremity of the tauric chain, not far from the cimmerian bosphorus, possessing the only trading port open to vessels in all seasons, in easy communication with rich and productive regions, this town possessed every possible claim to the peculiar attention of the russian government. but the hopes which had been at first conceived, were entirely disappointed, and the unfortunate theodosia was positively devoted to abandonment and destruction. it is not easy to determine the real motives for which the old genoese city was abandoned in favour of its rival on the cimmerian bosphorus. the ostensible reasons were sanatory measures, the necessity of having a general quarantine at the entrance of the sea of azof, encouragement of coasters and lighters, and the utility of a vast emporium opened to the productions of all russia. we believe, however, that all these arguments were in reality of very secondary weight, and that the downfall of theodosia is to be ascribed to nothing else than an absurd vanity. to resuscitate the ancient name of _odessus_; to found a town called _ovidiopol_ in a country where ovid never resided; to lead our geographers into error by giving the name of _tiraspol_ to a mean village on the dniestr, in the front of bender; to substitute the name of _theodosia_ for that of caffa; all these innovations might have pleased certain archæologists, but how was it possible to resist the thought of rebuilding the celebrated capital of the kingdom of the bosphorus? how irresistible the temptation to raise a new and great city at the foot of mithridates' rock! the memory of the milesians had, therefore, to fade before that of the illustrious sovereign of pontus; theodosia was despoiled of its privileges and its revenues, its tribunal of commerce was transferred to kertch, and double arbour dues were imposed on vessels touching there before arriving at the latter port. assuredly no stronger testimony could be borne to the superiority of theodosia than that which was embodied in these arbitrary measures, nor could there be a more incontestible proof of the caprice to which the genoese town was sacrificed. caffa was infinitely better fitted than kertch to satisfy those conditions which the official orders announced as the grounds for destroying its commercial position. the kertch roads are often closed against vessels for three or four months continuously; the anchorage is unsafe, and often disastrous, both from the want of shelter and from the shallowness of the water. the port of theodosia, on the contrary, is always open, and shipwrecks are unknown there. during the fine season an active service of lighters might have concentrated there all the freights brought by the don and the sea of azof. in this way the commercial intercourse with russia by the black sea would never have suffered the least interruption; and, what is an incalculable advantage in those latitudes, foreign vessels, being no longer constrained to make the long and difficult passage to taganrok, or to run the risk of wintering in the ice, might, if they failed to obtain freight at theodosia, have proceeded in search of one without loss of time to the southern shores of the black sea. all these grand considerations, which had raised the prosperity of caffa so high, were superseded by the dictates of vanity. kertch then was declared, in , a port of the first class, with a custom-house of entry and exit. a vast lazaret was immediately constructed, and five years afterwards appeared the famous sanatory orders which still regulate the navigation of the sea of azof. the duration of the quarantine was fixed at thirty days, but before that time can begin to run, the vessel must be moored within the lazaret, and every thing on board, including the effects of the crew, must be subjected to a fumigation of twenty-four hours. this operation being ended the sailors land, after having first divested themselves of all their dress and portable articles; the sails are plunged in water by the servants of the establishment, and the hull of the vessel is disinfected. after these preliminaries, which often occupy from ten to fifteen days, the sailors return to their vessels, and their days of quarantine begin to count. all these regulations are in curious contrast with those of the lazaret of odessa, where the quarantine lasts only fifteen days. this new system, which was in fact an interdict upon the sea of azof, told of course in favour of kertch. but the factitious prosperity of that town appears to us to have already reached its utmost limit, and we doubt much that the best devised or most stringent orders can ever give to its port those elements of commercial prosperity which nature has refused to it. hence we see, that to avoid the delay and cost of the kertch quarantine, the merchants of taganrok and the neighbouring towns, use lighters almost exclusively to carry their goods to the vessels moored in the cimmerian bosphorus. on their arrival in the channel, these lighters are put into the hands of the crew belonging to the vessel to be freighted, and their men remain on shore during the trans-shipment. this being accomplished, the lighters are fumigated for twenty-four hours, and then taken back by the lightermen to the sea of azof. all these operations, however, are tedious, costly, and uncertain; and the only reason why the merchants have adopted this plan of proceeding is, that they all are reluctant to incur the great expenses of storing their goods in kertch, and that the paucity of lighters, together with the irregularity of the winds, and the many shoals in the sea of azof, render shipments extremely expensive, so that no additional charge could be easily borne. at the opening of the navigation in , freight between taganrok and kertch cost as much as four rubles per tchetvert of wheat, and - / in the course of the summer. m. taitbout de marigny, who has paid great attention to all these matters, estimates the freight charges in question as equivalent on the average to those usually paid to black sea vessels bound for the archipelago.[ ] a remarkable result of this whole system of quarantine and customs is as follows. suppose two vessels start simultaneously from the mediterranean, the one for taganrok, the other for odessa, and that the latter failing to obtain a cargo, shall quit odessa after its fifteen days' quarantine, and sail for the sea of azof: there is every probability that after remaining at taganrok long enough to take in its cargo, it will on its return still find the first vessel in the kertch roads, waiting to complete the formalities required before it can enter the sea of azof. such measures as these, would inevitably keep aloof from the ports of the sea of azof, and even from that of kertch, every vessel that was sure of its cargo beforehand. it is needless to insist afresh in this place on the superiority of theodosia, considered as a general entrepôt of the goods arriving in the sea of azof, and of those which might have flowed directly into its port through the isthmus of arabat. as for the commercial resources belonging intrinsically to the town of kertch, it is enough to look at its situation at the extremity of a long, depopulated, and sterile peninsula, and its distance from every route, whether political or commercial, to be assured that they must be quite futile. seven years after the creation of its port, the annual customs' revenue had not risen above rubles. in , the whole quantity of corn that had issued from the town of kertch since its origin, whether directly or through the medium of its entrepôts, scarcely amounted to tchetverts, and the receipts of the custom-house for the same year were but , . if from this sum we deduct , , the amount of the excise on salt destined exclusively for russian consumption, and a further considerable sum produced by other imposts, there will remain an exceedingly small amount to represent the nett commercial revenue. the port of kertch has, therefore, by no means fulfilled the grand expectations so foolishly conceived of it; it has ruined the great city of theodosia, robbed the crimea of its commercial importance, cut off all chances of prosperity from the ports of the sea of azof, and crippled navigation; and all this without any profit worth speaking of to itself, and without the least prospect of ever rising above the low condition in which it is doomed to vegetate, both by its geographical situation, and the nature and configuration of the adjacent regions. the results have not been much more satisfactory as regards the growth of the russian mercantile navy. according to official reports, which we believe exaggerated, there were, in , in the sea of azof, vessels measuring about , , of kilogrammes, and manned by individuals. if we recollect that the sea of azof is but a marsh, the greatest depth of which does not exceed fourteen mètres, that the crafts which ply in it, pursuing always the same invariable track, hardly require the simplest rudiments of nautical skill for their management, and that the navigation of the sea is usually interrupted during four or five months of the year, it will be easily conceived that the maritime advantages which may accrue to russia, from the closing of the sea of azof, must be very insignificant, not to say quite illusory. we have now to examine the manufacturing and agricultural resources of the crimea, and the measures which have been taken by the imperial government to further them. the cultivation of the vine may be considered as at present the most important, if not the most productive branch of industry in the country. when russia took possession of it, the vineyards were concentrated in the southern valleys of soudak, kobsel, koze, and toklouk, and in those of the katch, the alma, &c., on the northern slope of the tauric chain. these vineyards which seem to have existed from very remote antiquity, were all in the plain, where they were subjected to continual irrigations after the system of the greeks and tatars. the consequence of this mode of culture was that the crops were extremely abundant, and the wine of a very poor quality.[ ] after the russian occupation, however, the business of vine-growing increased considerably in the northern valleys, which were soon frequented by the merchants of the interior, who were attracted both by the extraordinary cheapness of the produce, and by the facilities of transport. thus the wines of the crimea found their way into the interior of the empire, but they were chiefly used for mixing and adulteration; the small quantity that was sold in its original state was always of very bad quality, so that the peninsular wines were in very bad repute, and for a long while lost all chance of sale. this well-merited depreciation was such that even in our own day a merchant of eminence in moscow or st. petersburg would have thought it a serious disgrace to him to admit into his cellars a few bottles of crimean wine. such was the state of the vine cultivation in the crimea, when count voronzof was named governor-general of new russia. under his active and enterprising administration, a bold attempt was made to change the whole system of cultivation, so as to produce wines capable of competing advantageously with those of foreign countries.[ ] the valleys, with their method of irrigation, were therefore abandoned, and the preference was given to the long strip of schistous and _éboulement_ grounds which stretches along the seaside between balaklava and alouchta, on the southern coast. count voronzof set the example with his characteristic ardour; his first operations took place in at aidaniel,[ ] and six years afterwards he was the owner of , vine plants. the example of the governor-general was quickly followed, and in , there were already , , stocks in the country, from cuttings brought chiefly from the rhenish and the french provinces. when the vines were in full bearing, the next thing to be considered was to find a market for their produce; but here arose a great and unforeseen difficulty, and the brilliant expectations of the planters were soon miserably disappointed. in spite of the difficulties of the route, some merchants yielded to the earnest solicitations of the governor-general and his imitators, and arrived on the coast to purchase; but the demands of the proprietors were exorbitant; their first outlay had been very great, and their produce small, yet they were bent on realising at once the amount of their investments. they thought, too, that by setting a high price on their wines, they would secure their reputation; accordingly they fixed it at twenty to twenty-five rubles the vedro ( . hectolitres), and immediately they lost all chance of sale. the business prospered better in the valley of the soudak, where the same modifications had been introduced into the culture of the vine. the hill wines were sold at the rate of twelve to fifteen rubles the vedro, and those of the plain at five and six. but this did not last long; in the wine growers of soudak could no longer dispose of their stock, though they had reduced their prices to two and three rubles for the best qualities, and to one and one and a half for the lowland wines. as to the wine-growers of the southern coasts, they were very glad at that time if they could find purchasers at the rate of five or six rubles the vedro. several causes contributed to these unfortunate results. the southern coast, as we have already said, consists of a long narrow strip of argillaceous schist and detritus, with a very steep inclination, and overtopped throughout its length by high cliffs of jura limestone. in consequence of these topographical conditions, the heat is very great in summer; the soil, which is quite destitute of watercourses, dries rapidly, and the many ravines by which it is intersected, completely deprives it of any little moisture that may remain in it. the scarcity of rain augments these disadvantages, so that the vine plants procured from abroad degenerate rapidly; as the grapes cannot ripen before autumn, the wine loses much in quality; and, moreover, the quantity is far from abundant, in proportion to the extent of the ground. these circumstances, combined with those occasioned by the desire to exalt the wines of the crimea in public opinion, inflame both the pretensions of the proprietors and the indifference of the merchants, who could never have disposed of the coast wine at the high prices asked for it. these were afterwards considerably diminished, but not sufficiently to produce any effect. whatever be said to the contrary, it is certain that the wines of the southern crimea can never sustain any sort of comparison with those of france or the rhine; hence they continued to be held in low repute, and the merchants of the interior still found it more to their advantage to make their purchases in the northern valleys, which were easy of access, and where the wine was incomparably cheaper. in spite of all their efforts, therefore, the wine-growers of the southern coast could not find a market for their produce, and were obliged to consume the chief part of it themselves. it may, perhaps, excite surprise that no attempt has been made to evade the difficulties of land-carriage by seeking outlets by sea, and procuring customers in the great maritime towns of russia. but unluckily there exists between russia and greece an ancient treaty, which the tzars, for political considerations no doubt, persist in religiously observing, and by virtue of which greek wines are received almost free of duty in the imperial ports. whoever is aware of the prodigious quantity and incredible cheapness of the wines of the archipelago, and of the great facilities they afford for effecting mixtures and adulterations, will easily conceive, that with such a competition to encounter, the sale of crimean wines became absolutely impossible. if the culture of the vine in the crimea was induced by encouragements on the part of the government, then the landowners were grossly duped. but, as we shall explain by and by, the ministry seem never to have looked favourably on this branch of industry, and the vine-growers have only their own extreme want of forethought to blame for all the disasters that have befallen them. at soudak, however, the mischief appears to us attributable solely to the misconduct of the authorities. we have already stated that the vintage speculations of soudak were at first much more prosperous than those of the southern coast. the situation of the valley, which is of very easy access for northern traffic, and the decided preference of the german colonists for white wines, for many years kept the fine plain of soldaya in a thriving if not an opulent condition. but unfortunately, that western part of the coast not being within the region which the governor-general and the great landowners had taken under their special protection, soudak was completely abandoned to her own resources; her roads were left without repairs, and the local administration took no measures whatever for the preservation of order and the security of individuals. when i visited the coast in , the roads of this district were in the most deplorable condition;[ ] they were strewed with fragments of carts and casks; a german waggoner was killed in my presence by the breaking down of his waggon; thieving and pillage were the order of the day in the valley, and the proprietors could only preserve their chattels by keeping a close personal watch upon them day and night. the consequences of this culpable neglect may readily be imagined. purchasers diminished in number year by year, the wines lost their value, and the unfortunate proprietors with large stocks on hand were reduced to great poverty. all sorts of expedients were adopted under the pressure of the calamity; the wines were turned into vinegar, but again the speculation failed for want of a market. we heartily desire that our reasonable remonstrances in favour of soudak may reach the imperial government, so that effectual measures may be taken to revive the great natural wealth of that magnificent valley. we do not know the intentions of the present finance minister, but it is to be hoped that he will not partake the narrow views of his predecessor. count cancrini was a fanatic partisan of the consumption of foreign wines, and at the same time the declared enemy of the home growth, which he regarded as most injurious to the customs' revenue of the empire. in the present state of things it is not easy to predict the future fortunes of the crimean wine production. for our own part, we are thoroughly convinced that france has no sort of competition to fear on the part of those regions. whether the cultivation of the vine be concentrated in the valleys or on the hill sides, we do not think that the vintage can ever rival ours. it has been very justly remarked that wherever the vine and the olive grow together, the wines cannot have that delicacy and that _bouquet_ which belong only to our temperate climates. we believe, however, that if the wines of the archipelago were subjected to higher duties, if the means of transport were rendered more facile, and increased cultivation were given to the more open hill sides that extend towards the east of the tauric chain, the crimea would soon be enabled to supply the demand of the whole empire for the commoner sorts of wine, and the result would, perhaps, be extremely advantageous in diminishing the mischievous use of ardent spirits. such a change as this would evidently be not at all prejudicial to french commerce, which sends only wines of the first quality to the south of russia. according to a report printed in the russian journals of , and cited by m. dubois, the , , vine plants, contained in that year on the old and new plantations, were distributed as follows:-- south-west coast of the crimea , , soudak and south-east coast , , valley of the katch , , " the alma , " the belek , german colonies , the wine yielded by the vintage of , was , hectolitres, of which were the produce of the south-west coast, that of soudak, and that of the valley of the katch. the plantations have augmented considerably since that time; we cannot venture, however, to accept as authentic, the following statistics of the annual production of the crimea, given us by landowners in :-- valley of soudak , vedros , hectolitres southern coast , " , " northern valleys , " , " we have not much to say of the other branches of agriculture; they are all in the most deplorable state. the magnificent forests, yielding such quantities of timber, that formerly clothed the mountains, are rapidly disappearing. camel breeding, formerly very productive to the tatars of the plain, has given place to lank flocks of merinos. the most fertile valleys are in the same state of desolation in which they were left by the great calamities at the close of the last century, and the peninsula now produces scarcely corn enough for its own consumption. horticulture alone has made any real progress. some foreigners practise it with profit in the northern valleys, which for many years past have enjoyed the privilege of supplying all the fruit used at the tables of moscow and st. petersburg. manufactories are almost in the same state of decay as agriculture. morocco and other leathers formerly constituted an important part of the exports from the crimea; at present the value of these exports is no more than , rubles. it is about five years since this branch of industry was ruined. all that time there existed on the mountains of the peninsula a great quantity of goats, which being left at liberty, caused, it must be confessed, much damage to the forests, by nipping off the young shoots. according to the usual russian practice of attacking secondary causes rather than going at once to the root of any evil, the local administration could devise nothing better in the case than to proclaim a war of extermination, by giving every one the right of hunting and killing goats, in all places and at all seasons. the goats were almost all destroyed, and with them fell of necessity the greater part of the manufactories for morocco leather. it would certainly have been easy for authorities, possessed of any practical ability, to preserve the forests without exterminating the goats; but as they would not, or could not, deal with the real destroyers, the noble landowners, they wreaked their spite on the quadrupeds. it is really inconceivable with what rapidity the finest forests of the crimea are disappearing; year by year whole hills are totally stripped, and the government, stern as it has shown itself against the goats, takes no means to check this fatal devastation. several great landowners are engaged in lawsuits gravely affecting their rights, and meanwhile, until their causes shall have been decided, they use their opportunity to cut timber as fast as possible. foremost in those proceedings is admiral mordvinof, who has already destroyed the exceedingly rich forests that clothed the hills above the valley of baidar. the effects of this clearing away of the forests are already felt severely; the rivers are diminishing in volume, a great number of springs have run dry, and fire wood, now costs as much as forty rubles the fathom at ialta. another branch of industry, likewise very profitable in former times, was the working of the rich salt-pits in the environs of kozlov (eupatoria). only a few years ago eighty vessels used to come to the port from anatolia, to take in cargo. the price of the salt was then very low, but the trade was nevertheless a source of employment and profit for all the surrounding population. the minister of finance was jealous of the profits realised by individuals in this trade, and therefore laid a considerable export duty on the salt. in the following year not a single vessel came from anatolia, and it was soon ascertained that, prompted by necessity, the people of the southern shores of the black sea had found rich salt-pits in their own territory. the following table of the commerce of the crimea in and , is taken from official documents. the figures contained in it are in our opinion exaggerated, for they do not by any means agree with those resulting from the detailed table we shall give further on. ------------+-----------------------+----------------------- | imports. | exports. |-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- | . | . | . | . ------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | | | | kertch | , | , | , | , theodosia | , | , | , , | , eupatoria | , | , | , , | , , balaclava | , | | | +-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- total | , , | , , | , , | , , ------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- be it remarked that among the exports corn alone figured in for , rubles for theodosia, and , , rubles for eupatoria; and as all this corn came from countries beyond the crimea, the nullity of the peninsular exportation is apparent. moreover, the gross total of three and a half millions is scarcely the fifteenth part of the annual exportation of the town of odessa alone. in order to give a more exact idea of the industrial and commercial situation of the crimea, we set down the details of its exports and imports in . imports. ---------------------------+-----------+------------+-----------+ articles. | kertch. | theodosia. | eupatoria.| ---------------------------+-----------+------------+-----------+ | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | cotton | , | , | | cotton thread | , | , | | turkish cotton cloths | , | , | | chairs | , | | | wooden vessels | , | , | | woollen caps | , | , | | oil | , | , | , | sickles | , | | | wines | , | , | , | porter | , | , | | cassonade | , | | | fresh and dried fruit | , | , | , | fine pearls | | , | | coffee | | , | , | linen thread | | , | | nard juice and grapes | | , | | turkish tobacco | | , | , | olives | | , | | raw silk | | , | | dyed silk thread | | , | | oak galls | | | , | colours | | | , | vegetables | | | , | pepper | | | , | ---------------------------+-----------+------------+-----------+ exports. ---------------------------+-----------+------------+----------- articles. | kertch. | theodosia. | eupatoria. ---------------------------+-----------+------------+----------- | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. raw hides | , | , | , fish | , | | red caviar | , | | linseed | , | | rapeseed | , | | wheat | , | , | , , wool | , | , | , cordage | | , | woollen felt | | , | , tanned leather | | , | , flax, hemp, and stuffs | | , | , butter | | , | , bar iron | | , | , salt | | , | , soda | | , | rye | | , | , barley | | , | , , millet | | , | , glue | | | , raw hemp | | | , locks | | | , copper utensils | | | , brass, and brass wire | | | , cutlery | | | , swords and epaulettes | | | , sheep skins | | | , suet | | | , turpentine | | | , beans | | | , flour | | | , raw silk | | | , ---------------------------+-----------+------------+----------- we do not at all coincide in opinion with those who attribute the decadence we have just described to the general character of the people of the east. the orientals, it is true, have none of that feverish activity which characterises the people of our climes; besides which their wants are so limited and so easily satisfied, that they can never, in their present social condition, become strenuous workers. yet we have seen that the tatars, when they first occupied the country, were distinguished for their agricultural and industrial labours, whether it was in consequence of their mixture with the old races, or merely of the propitious climate; they also employed themselves with such success in gardening and the cultivation of the vine and of corn, that the crimea under the khans was considered one of the chief regions whence constantinople drew its supplies. it was only the steppe tribes, whose sole wealth was their cattle, that remained true to their primitive habits and their nomade life. in like manner there exists to this day a very striking difference, both intellectual and physical, between the two fractions of the mussulman race of the crimea. we believe, therefore, that under a better system it would have been easy to revive the laborious disposition of the tatars by facilitating and encouraging commercial transactions, and gradually effacing the disheartening apprehensions under which the mussulman population have naturally laboured since their great calamities befel them. assuredly we cannot blame russia for that depopulation of the country which was the first cause of its decadence. as victors, the russians used all the rights of the strong hand to consolidate their conquest and extinguish all chance of insurrection. the means no doubt were violent, disastrous, and often even exceeded all the bounds of humanity; yet it was scarcely possible but that excesses should be committed in a war between russian christians and mussulman tatars, who had so often braved, triumphed over, and swayed the muscovite power. in fairness, therefore, we can only criticise the measures adopted by the russian government subsequently to the conquest, from the day when the country was completely pacified, and the tatars submitted implicitly to the new yoke, and lost all hope of deliverance. we have already seen how an act of caprice annihilated the commercial prosperity of theodosia, which would naturally have had the greatest influence over the industrial development of the peninsula; and we have pointed out the mischievous measures that ruined various branches of the native trade. to these depressing causes, for which the government with its fatal system of prohibition and its half measures is alone responsible, we must add others no less active, because they principally affect the agricultural population who stand most in need of encouragement. we have already repeatedly mentioned the countless depredations of the inferior government agents. in the crimea the difference of religion and language, and the difficulty of making any kind of appeal for redress, naturally rendered the local administration more troublesome and rapacious than in any other province. the consequence was that the tatars led a life of fear and distrust, agriculture languished, and every man cultivated yearly only as much as was necessary for the subsistence of his family, that he might not excite the cupidity of the _employés_. on his accession to the government, count voronzof, with his natural kindness, applied himself strenuously to improve the condition of the tatars; he took them under his special protection, and prevented the rapacity of his underlings as far as in him lay. unfortunately, his efforts could hardly avail beyond the limits of his own estates, and all his generous intentions were baffled or worn out by the incessant pettyfogging arts of the _employés_. nothing could more signally exemplify the distrustful feelings of the tatars, than the events which occurred during the famine of , which was so great that whole families perished of hunger. moved by these misfortunes the government offered aid to the tatars, but incredible as it may appear, the proffered succours were generally refused, so much did the mussulmans dread the price which would be afterwards exacted for such assistance. towards , after the creation of the ministry of the domains of the crown under count kizilev, the imperial government set about the task in which count voronzof had failed. men of the best character for intelligence and probity were sent to the crimea, but their efforts were all ineffectual, and they soon retired in disgust from the useless struggle. the unfortunate crimea was again surrendered to the unlimited power and endless knaveries of the captain _ispravniks_, and of the worthy subaltern agents of the local administration. what are the destinies ultimately reserved for the mussulman population of the crimea,[ ] now numbering barely , souls?[ ] we are strongly inclined to anticipate its total extinction at a more or less remote date. the tribes are rapidly degenerating; the moral and physical forces of the nation are daily declining; the territorial wealth of the tatars has been destroyed, sold, or divided; the native families distinguished for their past history or for their fortunes have disappeared; the population, instead of increasing, diminishes. there remains, therefore, no element of vitality to revive the effete remains of a power that made russia tremble during so many centuries, and that even menaced for a while the political existence of all europe. footnotes: [ ] these colonies now consist of nine villages, with a population of souls. [ ] _trade of the sea of azof, in and ._ --------------------+-----------------------+---------------------- | imports. | exports. +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- | . | . | . | . | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | | | | taganrok {goods | , , | , , | , , | , , {cash | , , | , , | | | | | | marcoupol {goods | | | , , | , , {cash | , | , , | | | | | | rostof on {goods | | | , , | , , the don {cash | | | | | | | | bordiansk {goods | | | , , | , , {cash | , | , | | +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , , | , , | , , | , , --------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- [ ] de la mottraye, who visited the crimea in , speaks of a soudak wine the flavour of which he compares with burgundy. at that period the wines of the northern valleys sold at - / centimes the bottle. in peyssonel's time, in , the soudak wines fetched from to centimes the bottle; those of belbek to , and those of katch, of which de la mottraye speaks, to . the ukraine cossacks and the zaporogues consumed the greatest portion of these wines; about hectolitres annually according to peyssonel. in , at the time of the russian occupation, the price of soudak wine was to centimes the litre; it rose to centimes in , during the war with turkey.--(see pallas, voyage dans la russie méridionale.) [ ] previously to count voronzof, m. rouvier, who introduced the breed of merino sheep into russia, had planted vines from malaga on the hill sides of laspi, at the western extremity of the chain; but his example had not many imitators. [ ] aidaniel is north-east of ialta, a little town, the chief station for steamboats. [ ] of roads perfectly practicable for wheeled vehicles there exist in the crimea: . the road leading from simpheropol to sevastopol, skirting the northern slope of the tauric chain; its length is thirty-nine english miles; . that from simpheropol to ialta, crossing the mountains at the foot of the tchatir dagh, forty-nine miles; . that from ialta to balaclava, proceeding along the southern coast as far as foros, where it passes on to the northern side of the mountains; its length is forty miles between ialta and foros; the second portion was in course of construction in . this line of road seems to us extremely ill-contrived. it has been carried along the very foot of the jura-limestone cliffs, for the purpose of avoiding expense in crossing the ravines; and thus it is completely exterior to the vine-growing and cultivable district, and every proprietor who desires to use it must make a private road at his own expense, in order to reach the elevated level of the highway. we say nothing of the roads in the plains, the construction of which, just as in the interior of russia, consists merely in tracing the breadth and direction by a ditch on either side. [ ] hitherto the tatars have been exempted from military service; they are merely required to furnish one squadron to the imperial guard, to be discharged every five years. as for the taxes imposed on them they amount to the illusory sum of _s._ _d._ for every male individual, not including duty work on roads, transports, &c. [ ] the total population of the crimea is about , , including russians, greeks, armenians, karaïtes, germans, and other foreigners. chapter xliii. historical sketch of bessarabia. topology--ancient fortresses--the russian policy in bessarabia--emancipation of the serfs--colonies-- cattle--exports and imports--mixed population of the province. to complete our account of the southern regions of russia, it remains for us to speak of bessarabia, the most remote province which the tzars possess on the shores of the black sea, and the country which formed, down to the commencement of the present century, one of the most valuable possessions of the principality of moldavia. we will not now endeavour to withdraw the veil that covers the history of past ages, or discuss the effects produced upon this province by the expeditions of darius and of alexander, the roman conquests, the tatar invasions, and the mussulman dominion: we will confine ourselves to contemporaneous facts, the only ones which can have some chance of exciting, if not interest, at least curiosity. bessarabia is bounded on the south by the danube, north and east by the dniepr and the black sea, and west by the pruth, which separates it from moldavia, and by bukovine, a dependency of austria. it thus forms between two rivers which might easily be rendered navigable, a strip of more than english miles in length, with an average breadth not exceeding fifty. this strip, which expands gradually as it approaches the sea, is divided into two regions, totally distinct both in population and in topographical character. the southern part, to which the tatars have given the name of boudjiak, consists of the flat country which extends to the sea between the mouths of the danube and lower part of the dniestr. it has all the characteristics of the russian steppes, possesses but a few insignificant streams, and is chiefly fitted for rearing cattle; it yields little to tillage, except in some localities along the watercourses, where numerous colonies of germans and bulgarians are settled. the northern part adjoining austria is, on the contrary, a hill country, beautifully diversified, covered with magnificent forests, and rich in all the productions of the most favoured temperate climates. at the period when the russians appeared on the banks of the dniestr, the boudjiak steppes were occupied by nogai tatars, nomades for the most part, who after having been at first tributary to the khans of the crimea, had placed themselves under the protection of the porte; whilst the northern region was possessed by a numerous moldavian population, essentially agricultural, subjected to the laws of serfdom, and acknowledging the authority of the hospodars of jassy. the ottoman power was represented solely by military garrisons holding peaceful possession of the two fortresses of ismael and kilia on the danube, and those of khotin, bender, and ackerman, on the dniestr. the fortress of ismael is famous for the sieges sustained in it by the turks against souvarof. its fortifications have not been much increased by russia; she keeps in it a numerous garrison, and a considerable amount of artillery. the little flotilla of the danube is stationed at the foot of the walls. the fort of kilia is now quite abandoned. the fortress of khotin is half of genoese, half of turkish construction. the citadel or castle is an irregular square, flanked by enormous towers. the turks and the russians have added new fortifications to the old works, without however increasing the strength of the position. in the present state of military art, khotin is of no importance whatever. commanded on all sides by hills, and situated on the very edge of the dniestr, it would not resist a regular siege of a few hours. the walls consist of courses of brick and cut stone, and bear numerous genoese inscriptions. over the principal gate are seen a lion and a leopard, chained beside an elephant bearing a tower. these figures are in the eastern style, and date from the time of the turks. the doors and the uprights of the windows are adorned with verses from the koran. the great mosque of the fortress has unfortunately been demolished, and nothing remains of it but its minaret, which stands alone in the midst of the place, as if to protest against the vandalism of the conquerors. on the other side of the dniestr, at a short distance from the river, is kaminietz, the capital of podolia. bender and ackerman likewise possess two castles of genoese and turkish construction: the latter situated on the liman of the dniestr, has been abandoned; the former, which stands on the main road to turkey, has a garrison. between bender and khotin, on the banks of the dniestr, are the ruins of a fourth fortress called soroka, which merits a special description, inasmuch, as it is altogether different from the other edifices we have noticed in southern russia. it forms a circular enclosure of thirty-one mètres, interior diameter. at four equidistant points of the circumference, stand as many towers, projecting externally in a semi-cylindrical form, whilst on the interior they are prismatic. between the two towers on the river side, there is a fifth which commands the single gate of the castle. the interior diameter of the towers is . mètres; the thickness of the walls is . mètres. they have embrasures in the upper parts, and a few openings at various heights. all round the walls in the inner court there is a circular range of apartments on the ground, in tolerable preservation, and consisting of ten casemates seven mètres deep, lighted only from within. they formed probably, the stables of the fortress. above this range are the remains of an upper story, which, of course, served with the towers for lodging the garrison. the whole building exhibits the greatest solidity, and the mortar is wonderfully hard. but it is a bitter disappointment to the traveller that there are no inscriptions on the walls, or sculpture of any kind to fix the date of the edifice. the fortress never had ditches; its strength consists only in the height and thickness of its walls. the only entrance is towards the dniestr, four or five yards from the scarp that flanks the river. this arrangement was probably adopted in order to secure a means of retreat, and of receiving provisions by way of the river.--the general appearance of the castle reminded me of the roman fortresses erected against the barbarians, remains of which exist in many parts of europe. bessarabia was justly considered, at the period referred to above, as one of the most fertile and productive provinces of the black sea. ismael and remy were its two great export markets for corn; ackerman sent numerous cargoes of fruit and provisions of all kinds yearly to constantinople; the magazines of the fortresses were profusely filled with wheat and maize; the countless flocks of the boudjiak steppes supplied wool to the east and to italy; and austria alone drew from them annually upwards of , heads of cattle. such were the circumstances of bessarabia at the time when the russians, in the worst moment of their disasters, at the very time when napoleon was entering their ancient capital, had the courageous cleverness to obtain the cession of that province, and advance their frontier to the danube, at the same time securing the inestimable advantage of being free to withdraw their troops from it, and march them against the invader. when the russians took possession, the nogais, many tribes of whom had previously emigrated, completely forsook their old possessions, and withdrew beyond the danube, and thus there remained in bessarabia only the moldavian population, who were greek christians, like the russians. the conduct of the government towards the bessarabians was at first as accommodating and liberal as possible. official pledges were given them, that they should retain their own language, laws, tribunals, and administrative forms of all kinds. the governors of the country were chosen from among the natives, and the province remained in the full enjoyment of its commercial immunities and franchises, which were the grand bases of its agricultural prosperity. but these valuable privileges soon begot jealousies; the old administration fell into discredit through its own injudicious pretensions, and perhaps also in consequence of political intrigues against it, and it became exposed to the incessant hostility even of the boyars. the outcry was so great, that the emperor alexander, wishing to satisfy the population, determined that a new constitution should be framed, which should be more in harmony with the habits, the wants, and the state of civilisation of the country. a committee of twenty-eight was appointed to draw up this constitution, conspicuous among whom was m. pronkoul, one of the most eminent boyars of the country. he had the chief hand in framing the constitution, and he promoted the adoption of its most liberal articles, with a very laudable spirit and much cleverness, no doubt, but with by no means a just discernment of the state of things. as soon as the commission had completed its task, alexander visited bessarabia, in , and was welcomed with the most cordial gladness, and the most sumptuous rejoicings. he received from the province a national present of horses, and was quite amazed at the prosperity and the inexhaustible resources of his new conquest. it was naturally desired to take the opportunity of his presence for the ratification of the new constitution; but that was not to be had so readily, since it brought in question the principle of the political unity of the empire. it was rightly represented to alexander that it would be imprudent and impolitic to give a final and decisive sanction to a system, the real value and fitness of which could only be made known by time. the emperor yielded to these considerations, and merely ordered that the constitution should be put in force, without prejudice to the future. the fundamental principles of this constitution were as liberal as possible; too liberal, indeed, to have had the slightest chance of enduring. bessarabia retained all its nationality; the governor and the vice-governor alone could be russians, all the other functionaries were to be moldavians; the province continued to enjoy all commercial immunities, and the finances, too, were under the immediate inspection and control of the natives. to any man of common sense and foresight, the maintenance of such a constitution was a chimera. was it to be imagined that russia would allow the subsistence of a conquered province on its extreme frontiers, in contact with turkey, governing itself by its own laws, and possessing an administration diametrically opposed to that which controls the other governments of the empire? the moldavian boyars nevertheless considered the promulgation of the constitution as a victory, and thought in their infatuation they might defy all the chances of the future. but events soon undeceived them, and the mismanagement of their own institutions provoked the first blow against their privileges. in accordance with old customs the government continued to sell the taxes by auction, and they were generally farmed by the great landowners of the province. this vicious system of finance, which had been practised under the oriental regimen of the hospodars, could not fail to have fatal consequences under the new system of things. as we have already said, bessarabia had retained her commercial freedom in its full extent after her union with russia. it rapidly degenerated into an abuse, through the improvident prodigality of the moldavians, and the extravagant ideas of civilisation and progress that fermented in all their brains; luxury increased beyond measure among the nobles, and kichinev, the capital, became famous through all the country for its sumptuous festivities, and the wealth of its ware-rooms. the consequence was that the receipts of the treasury proceeded in the inverse ratio of the progress of luxury; and the farmers, whose expenses swallowed up more than the revenue, were last unable to pay the sums they had contracted for. the imperial government was of course indulgent during the first years, and had not recourse to any severe measures. this conduct encouraged the defaulters, and the disorder of the finances at last reached such a pass as called indispensably for the strenuous intervention of the imperial government. the commercial franchises of the province were suppressed therefore in , the prohibitive system of the imperial customs was introduced, and the payment of all arrears was rigorously exacted. this last measure of course gave occasion to endless suits and executions, and so the ruin of the principal families was accomplished at the same time as the destruction of all their political influence, and the government had then only to fix the day when its principles of political unity should have complete force in its new conquest. the constitution thus impaired, subsisted, however, until the death of alexander; but on the accession of nicholas it was completely suppressed; bessarabia was deprived of all its privileges, and even of its language, and was assimilated in all points of administration to the other provinces of the empire; with the exception, however, that the government, in order to ensure the ulterior success of its measures, took from the inhabitants the right of electing their captain ispravniks, or officers of rural police.[ ] so radical a revolution could not be effected without bringing with it serious perturbations. it is enough to recollect what we have said of the venality of the public functionaries, in order to guess what the bessarabians must have had to endure at the hands of that multitude of russian _employés_ who took up their quarters in the towns and villages. the intrigues and pettyfogging artifices of these men complicated more and more the already numerous lawsuits; and the daily increasing perplexities in the relations between the landowners, the freedmen, and the serfs, overthrew all the elements of the national wealth. to all these causes of disorganisation were added the military occupation of the country in the time of the turkish war, and this was the more onerous because the rich procured themselves exemption for money, and the whole burden fell on the petty proprietors and the peasants. when the country fell into this state of exhaustion, the boyars were not slow to remonstrate: and they did so with such vehemence, on the occasion of the journey of the emperor nicholas, in , that he resolved to have a commission appointed, to report to him at st. petersburg, on the grievances of the province. the election of the commissioners took place immediately; but as the boyars revived their old pretensions, whilst the government strenuously adhered to its system of political unity, it was not possible to come to an understanding respecting the ameliorations to be introduced into the administrative regimen. the elections, after being frequently annulled and recommenced, produced no result, and the last commission named was finally dissolved without having been able to repair to st. petersburg. all these long altercations necessarily produced asperity in the relations of bessarabia with the superior administration, and at last the imperial government, weary of these discussions, was ready to take any measure to reduce the moldavians to the most absolute political and administrative nullity, even to the prejudice of the national prosperity. to this end it was determined to cut off the last means of influence which serfdom afforded to the boyars, by issuing an ukase, by virtue of which all serfs were declared free, with the right of residing where they pleased. the consequences of this abrupt emancipation were, of course, disastrous to agriculture. urged by intrigues, or by the chimerical hope of bettering their physical condition, the serfs abandoned their old abodes to settle elsewhere, and chiefly on the lands recently acquired by the russians. in this way many villages were left deserted, the lands remained untilled, and the landowners found themselves suddenly deprived of the hands necessary for their work. putting aside all political considerations, this measure of the government was unquestionably premature. nothing in the moral or physical condition of the bessarabians could as yet justify so radical a destruction of all that belonged to the old system. the state of the serfs was in fact very tolerable, and quite in harmony with the civilisation of the country. the peasants were no further bound to the soil, than inasmuch as a certain portion of it was placed at their disposal. their duties to their lords were defined by rule, and consisted generally of eighteen days' labour in the year, some haulages, and the tithes of their produce. the landowners, no doubt, occasionally abused their power in a cruel manner; but these abuses were not without remedy. a resolute and conscientious administration might easily have put an end to them. under the present system, the peasants possessing no lands appeared to us in reality much more enslaved, and in a far less satisfactory physical condition. formerly, the interests of the lords and the serfs were closely united, the prosperity of either necessarily inferred that of the others; but now that the emancipated serfs, possessing no means of subsistence of their own, cultivate the land only in virtue of a contract, the landowners think only how to get as much profit out of them as possible, during the time the engagement lasts, and care nothing what becomes of them afterwards. the peasants, it is true, have a right of appealing to the tribunals; but in consequence of the venality of the latter, their complaints generally serve only to put them to expense, and make their condition worse. a rich boyar said very naïvely to me on this subject, "how do you suppose the husbandman can obtain justice, when for every egg he gives we give a silver ruble?" again, the frequent changes of abode are very pernicious, from the loss of time and the expense they occasion. other dwellings must be built, new habits must be contracted; the peasant is soon reduced to destitution, and finds himself obliged to accept whatever terms are offered him. in this way the dependence of the rural population is but the more grievous for being limited, and their situation towards the landlords is without security for the present, or guarantee for the future. nor have their duty labours undergone any modification, and the abuses are exactly the same as under the old régime. without exceeding the limits of the regulations, a peasant pays his master tithes of all agricultural produce, besides ^r. for every head of large cattle, . for each sheep, and one hive of honey out of every fifty he possesses. he takes upon himself, moreover, all repairs of buildings, enclosures, &c., supplies night watchers, executes annually at least three haulages over thirty-eight miles of ground, and seldom works less than twenty-eight or thirty days for his landlord, often as much as fifty or even sixty. in point of physical welfare, therefore, the results of emancipation are quite illusory, and the more so as the peasants enjoy no political rights, and support all the burdens and _corvées_. in fine, the new system has as yet produced only loss, trouble, and embarrassment, both to large and small fortunes. as to hopes for the future, none can be seriously conceived, except for very distant times. it will require many years even for a wise and enlightened administration to rectify the state of a country whose population consists of a scanty body of landowners, and a mass of peasants without fixed domicile, possessing no other resources than the chance of a limited engagement, and the labour of their hands. we will not go into details of all the measures adopted by the russian government with reference to the agricultural and commercial affairs of bessarabia: they were as contradictory and as irrational as those we have noticed in our account of the crimea. the immigrations of the bulgarians[ ] and germans,[ ] it is true, were favoured, and they were granted the most fertile lands of the boudjiak; several villages of cossacks[ ] and of great russians[ ] were settled in the same regions; and attempts were even made with some success to colonise a few nomade tribes of gipsies.[ ] but all these excellent creations, the first idea of which belongs to the head of the state, were largely counterbalanced by the mischievous measures of the local boards. thus, for instance, in consequence of the division among the great landlords of all the immense meadows formerly possessed by the hospodars, and which they used to rent out in pasture, the national business of rearing zigai sheep was destroyed, and gave place to some ruinous attempts to introduce the merino breed. extreme injury was done at the same time to the breeding of horses and horned cattle, a business which the government had already seriously damaged by forcing the proprietors of such stock to become russian subjects or give up their employment, and by impeding by countless vexatious formalities the entrance of foreign merchants into the province, and their sojourn in it. in , bessarabia sold only horses, whereas formerly austria alone drew from it from , to , every year for her cavalry.[ ] the following general table of the exports and imports of bessarabia by the danube and by land is drawn up from official documents. it cannot, however, indicate precisely the commercial situation of bessarabia, since a considerable portion of the goods declared in five places named belongs only to the transit trade through the province, which, moreover, receives a quantity of manufactured and other goods from southern russia that are not mentioned at all in the table. our figures would require a certain reduction to make them accurately represent the true state of the case. by the danube.--imports. -----------------------+-----------------------+---------------------- | . | . names of places. +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- | goods. | cash. | goods. | cash. -----------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. ismael | , | , , | , | , reny | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , | , , | , | , , exports. ismael | , , | , | , , | reny | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , , | , | , , | , by land.--imports. novo selitza, austrian | | | | frontier | , | , , | , | , , skouleni on the pruth | , | , | , | , leovo on the pruth | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , | , , | , | , , exports. novo selitza | , , | , | , , | , skouleni | , | , | , | , leovo | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- total | , , | , | , , | , -----------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- total of the customs and other duties realised in , in the five localities above-named, , rubles, and in , , rubles. from some scattered details we have already given, the reader may conjecture that the population of bessarabia is exceedingly mixed. the boudjiak numbers among its inhabitants, great russians, cossacks, germans, bulgarians, swiss vine-dressers, gipsies, and greek and armenian merchants. the northern part of the province, on the contrary, is occupied almost exclusively by the moldavian race, whose villages extend even along the dniestr to the vicinity of ackerman. jews abound in the northern part; there are very few in the towns of the boudjiak; leaving them out of the account the bessarabian population may be divided into four great classes: the nobles, the free peasants who possess lands, the newly emancipated peasants, and the gipsies. the nobles consist of the ancient moldavian aristocracy, the public functionaries, retired officers, and a great number of russians, who have become landowners in the province. to this class we must join the mazils, who are descendants of the ancient boyars, but whom war and the numerous revolutions that have desolated the land have reduced to penury. they form at present an intermediate class between the new nobles and the peasantry, and differ from the aristocracy only in not taking part in the elections of the judges and marshals of the nobles. the free peasants are those, who, having been emancipated in times more or less remote, possess lands, and depend neither on the great landlords nor on the crown, though subject to ordinary imposts and _corvées_. the newly liberated peasants consist of those who are settled, by virtue of a contract or agreement, on lands belonging to individuals or to the crown; they form the majority of the population. the bohemians are still subjected to the laws of slavery. some of them, to the number of families, belong to the crown, and the rest to moldavian landowners, who usually employ them as servants, workmen, and musicians. in bessarabia, as throughout russia and the principalities of the danube, the new generation of nobles have completely renounced the habits of former days. they have of course adopted the straight coat, trousers, cravat, and all the rest of our western costume; there is nothing striking in their outward appearance. the old boyars alone adhere to their ancestral customs; a broad divan, pipes, coffee, dolces, and the kieff after dinner, are indispensable for them; and to some of them shampooing is a delicious necessity. i know a certain nobleman who cannot fall asleep without having his feet rubbed by his bohemian. but what above all strikes and delights every stranger, especially a frenchman, is the eager and cordial hospitality and kindness he encounters in every moldavian house. one is sure of meeting everywhere with men who sympathise heartily with every thing great and useful to mankind which our civilisation and our efforts have produced in these latter times. it is only to be regretted that these brilliant qualities are often tarnished by the corruption which administrative venality and rapacity, supervening upon long military occupations, have insensibly diffused through all classes of the population. the bessarabian of the lower class is by nature a husbandman; he very rarely plies a trade. to know his real worth he must be seen in the interior of the country, far from the towns. the moldavian peasant is brave, gay, and hospitable; he delights to welcome the stranger, and generally would be ashamed to receive the slightest present from him. the russians accuse him of excessive sloth, but the charge appears unfounded. the moldavian peasant seldom, indeed, thinks of accumulating money, but he always works with zeal until he has attained the position he had aspired to, the amount of comfort he had set his heart on; and, in reality, it is not until after the fulfilment of his desires that he becomes lazy, and that his efforts are generally limited to procuring his family the few sacks of maize necessary for its subsistence. but increase his wants, make him understand that there are other enjoyments than those in which he indulges so cheaply, and you will infallibly see him shake off his natural apathy, and rise to the level of the new ideas he has adopted. the most charming thing in the moldavian villages is the extreme cleanliness of the houses, which are generally surrounded by gardens and thriving orchards. enter the forest dwelling, and you will almost always find a small room perfectly clean, furnished with a bed, and broad wooden divans covered with thick woollen stuffs. bright parti-coloured carpets, piles of cushions, with open work embroideries, long red and blue napkins, often interwoven with gold and silver thread, are essential requisites in every household, and form a principal portion of the dowery of young women. in general, the women take little part in field labours, but they are exceedingly industrious housewives. they are all clever weavers, and display great art and taste in making carpets, articles of dress, and linen. the great object of emulation among the women of every village, is to have the neatest and most comfortable house, and the best supplied with linen and household utensils. such was bessarabia, when i visited it in detail, on my return from my long journeys in the steppes of the caspian. i visited it a second time when about to quit russia for the principalities of the danube; and when i crossed the pruth, i could not help reiterating my earnest prayers that the inexhaustible resources of this province may at last be duly appreciated, and that effectual measures may be taken to put an end to that languor and depression in which it has been sunk for so many years. footnotes: [ ] bessarabia now includes nine districts, the capitals of which, beginning from the south, are ismael, ackerman, kahoul, bender, kichinev, orgeiev, beltz, soroka, and khotin. kichinev is the capital of the government; it was formerly a poor borough on the bouik, a little river that falls into the dniestr; the preference was given it on account of its central position. its population is now , , of whom from , to , are jews. it is to the administration of lieutenant-general foederof that the town owes the numerous embellishments, and the principal public edifices it presents to the traveller's view. [ ] the bulgarian colonies, the most prosperous of all those that have been established in the boudjiak, numbered in , , families, comprising , males, and , females. the surface of their lands has been estimated at , hectares, of which , are fit for tillage and hay crops, and , are waste. the bulgarian colonists pay the crown rubles per family. the corn harvest amounted, in , to , tchetverts. they have contrived to preserve among them the breed of zigai sheep, the long strong wool of which is in demand in the east, and formed, previously to the russian occupation, the chief wealth of the bessarabians: they now possess about , . [ ] the german colonies include nineteen villages and families. they are in a very backward condition. [ ] after the destruction of the celebrated setcha of dniepr, the zaporogue cossacks withdrew in great numbers beyond the danube, and settled with the permission of the turks on that secondary branch of the balkan which runs between isaktchy and toultcha. during the wars of and , the russian government contrived to gain the allegiance of many of the descendants of these zaporogues who served it as spies. their number was so considerable that after the campaign russia formed them into military colonies in the boudjiak. these colonies increased greatly in consequence of the asylum they afforded to all the refugees and vagabonds of russia, and presented, in , an effective of two regiments of cavalry of men each, with a total population of families, having eight villages and , hectares of land. [ ] we have no exact data respecting these villages, the situation of which is wretched enough. their population consists entirely of fugitives, to whom the government had for many years granted an asylum in bessarabia to the detriment of the neighbouring government. [ ] the gipsies have three villages containing families. the establishment of these colonies was not effected without difficulty, and it required all the severity of a military administration to make them sow their grounds. [ ] since our departure, the russian government seems disposed to interest itself on behalf of bessarabia. we are informed that it is at present turning its attention to the navigation of the dniestr, a matter of the more importance since the dniestr washes bessarabia throughout its whole length, and there is not yet in that province any means of communication practicable at all seasons. note. to complete our author's account of sevastopol, we subjoin an abstract of a paper by mr. shears, c.e., which was read at the meeting of the institution of civil engineers, january , . "sevastopol is very peculiarly situated, amidst rocky ground, rising so abruptly from the shore, that there was not space for the buildings necessary for a dockyard. on account of the depth of water close in shore, and other natural advantages, the emperor determined to make it the site of an extensive establishment, and as there is not any rise of tide in the black sea, and the construction of cofferdams would have been very expensive and difficult in such a rocky position, it was decided to build three locks, each having a rise of ten feet, and at this level of thirty feet above the sea to place a main dock with lateral docks, into which vessels of war could be introduced, and the gates being closed, the water could be discharged by subterranean conducts to the sea, and the vessel, being left dry, could be examined and repaired, even beneath the keel. a stream was conducted from a distance of twelve miles to supply the locks, and to keep the docks full; this, however, has been found insufficient, and a pumping-engine has since been erected by messrs. maudsley and field, for assisting. "the original intention was to have made the gates for the docks of timber, but on account of the ravages of a worm, which it appears does not, as in the case of the teredo navalis or the tenebranes, confine itself to the salt water, it was resolved to make them with cast iron frames covered with wrought iron plates. "there are nine pairs of gates, whose openings vary from feet in width and feet inches in height for ships of guns, to feet inches in width, and feet in height, for frigates. "the manipulation of such masses of metal as composed these gates demanded peculiar machines; accordingly, messrs. rennie fitted up a building expressly, with machines constructed by mr. whitworth, by which all the bearing surfaces could be planed, and the holes bored in the ribs, and all the other parts, whether their surfaces were curved or plane. the planing was effected by tools which travelled over the surface, backward and forward, cutting each way; the piece of metal being either held in blocks, if the surface was plane, or turned on centres, if the surface was curved. the drilling was performed by machines, so fixed, that the pieces could be brought beneath or against the drills, in the required direction, and guided so as to insure perfect uniformity and accordance between them. "travelling cranes were so arranged, as to take the largest pieces from the wharf, and place them in the various machines, by the agency of a very few men, notwithstanding their formidable dimensions; the heelposts in some cases being upwards of feet long. each endless screw, for giving progressive motion to the cutting tools, was feet long. some idea may be formed of the manual labour avoided by the machines, when it is stated, that the surface planed or turned in the nine pairs of gates equals , square inches; and in some cases a thickness of three-quarters of an inch was cut off. the surface in the drilled bolt holes equals , square inches." the paper gave all the details of the construction of the gates, and the machinery for making them; and was illustrated by a series of detailed drawings. the end. c. whiting, beaufort house, strand. +-----------------------------------------------------+ | | | typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | page v ickaterinoslav changed to iekaterinoslav | | page v debats changed to débats | | page accomodation changed to accommodation | | page etsablished changed to established | | page bord changed to board | | page that changed to than | | page debats changed to dÉbats | | page orgie changed to orgy | | page porticos changed to porticoes | | page satify changed to satisfy | | page party changed to parti | | page alsacian changed to alsatian | | page azor changed to azov | | page guerillero changed to guerrillero | | page "every thing is matter of surprise" | | changed to "every thing is a matter | | of surprise" | | page cassino changed to casino | | page choses changed to chooses | | page subsistance changed to subsistence | | page bead changed to head | | page acording changed to according | | page gengis changed to genghis | | page gengis changed to genghis | | page alsacean changed to alsacian | | page it changed to its | | page stupified changed to stupefied | | paqe vieing changed to vying | | page rareties changed to rarities | | page tibetian changed to tibetan | | page tondoutof changed to tondoudof | | page samarcand changed to samarkand | | page hectrolitres changed to hectolitres | | page semovar changed to samovar | | page gaolors changed to gaolers | | page wo-begone changed to woe-begone | | page semovar changed to samovar | | page downfal changed to downfall | | page predecesssors chaned to predecessors | | page tourgouth changed to torgouth | | page latitiude changed to latitude | | page batallions changed to battalions | | page ghenghis changed to genghis | | page boudjak changed to boudjiak | | page earthern changed to earthen | | page fistycuffs changed to fisticuffs | | page suprise changed to surprise | | page bukharest changed to bucharest | | page caucausus changed to caucasus | | page emmaneul changed to emmanuel | | page manghislak changed to manghishlak | | page incontestibly changed to incontestably | | page taibout changed to taitbout | | page formalties changed to formalities | | page cashmires changed to cashmeres | | page bagtchte changed to bagtche | | page moolight changed to moonlight | | page filagree changed to filigree | | page belfrey changed to belfry | | page ebulitions changed to ebullitions | | page thngs changed to things | | page fhe changed to the | | page sweatmeats changed to sweetmeats | | page ghenghis changed to genghis | | page soudah changed to soudagh | | page griffen changed to griffin | | page guerei changed to guerai | | page recuscitate changed to resuscitate | | page cossaks changed to cossacks | | page ^ indicates a superscript letter | | following the symbol | | page skoulein changed to skouleni | +-----------------------------------------------------+