RVS5IAN-IWIBLE5 
 BY'I5ABELF-H/\P600D 
 
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RUSSIAN RAMBLES 
 
 BY 
 
 ISABEL F. HAPGOOD 
 
 o 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE EPIC SONGS OF RUSSIA " 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 1895 
 

 <b6 J> 
 
 Copyright, 1895, 
 BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton and Company. 
 

 
 K 
 
 i 
 
 TO 
 
 RUSSIA AND MY RUSSIAN FRIENDS 
 
 I DEDICATE THESE NOTES OF MY SOJOURN WITH THEM. 
 THEY MAY BEST ASSURED THAT, THOUGH MANY OP 
 MY MOST CHERISHED EXPERIENCES ARE NOT RECORDED 
 IN THESE PAGES, THEY REMAIN UNFORGOTTEN, DEEPLY 
 IMPRINTED ON MY HEART. 
 
 978S5S 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE innumerable questions which have been put 
 to me since my return to America have called to my 
 attention the fact that, in spite of all that has been 
 written about Russia, the common incidents of every- 
 day life are not known, or are known so imperfectly 
 that any statement of them is a travesty. I may cite, 
 as an example, a book published within the past two 
 years, and much praised in America by the indis- 
 criminating as a truthful picture of life. The whole 
 story hung upon the great musical talent of the 
 youthful hero. The hero skated to church through 
 the streets, gazed down the long aisle where the wor- 
 shipers were assembled (presumably in pews), as- 
 cended to the organ gallery, sang an impromptu solo 
 with trills and embellishments, was taken in hand 
 by the enraptured organist who had played there for 
 thirty years, and developed into a great composer. 
 Omitting a mass of other absurdities scattered 
 through the book, I will criticise this crucial point. 
 There are no organs or organists in Russia ; there 
 are no pews, or aisles, or galleries for the choir, and 
 there are never any trills or embellishments in the 
 church music. A boy could skate to church in New 
 York more readily than in Moscow, where such a 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 thing was never seen, and where they are not edu- 
 cated up to roller skates. Lastly, as the church 
 specified, St. Vasily, consists of a nest of small 
 churches connected by narrow, labyrinthine cor- 
 ridors, and is approached from the street up two 
 flights of low-ceiled stairs, it is an impossibility that 
 the boy should have viewed the "aisle" and assem- 
 bled congregation from his skates at the door. That 
 is a fair specimen of the distortions of facts which I 
 am constantly encountering. 
 
 It has seemed to me that there is room for a book 
 which shall impart an idea of a few of the ordinary 
 conditions of life and of the characters of the inhab- 
 itants, illustrated by apposite anecdotes from my 
 personal experience. For this purpose, a collection 
 of detached pictures is better than a continuous nar- 
 rative of travel. 
 
 I am told that I must abuse Russia, if I wish to 
 be popular in America. Why, is more than I or my 
 i Russian friends can understand. Perhaps it arises 
 from the peculiar fact that people find it more inter- 
 esting to hear bad things of their neighbors than 
 good, and the person who furnishes startling tales 
 is considered better company than the humdrum 
 truth-teller or the charitably disposed. 
 
 The truth is, that people too frequently go to 
 Russia with the deliberate expectation and intention 
 1 of seeing queer things. That they do frequently con- 
 trive to see queer things, I admit. Countess X. Z., 
 who in appearance and command of the language 
 
PREFACE. vn 
 
 could not have been distinguished from an English- 
 woman, related to me a pertinent anecdote when 
 we were discussing this subject. She chanced to 
 travel from St. Petersburg to Moscow in a com- 
 partment of the railway carriage with two Ameri- 
 cans. The latter told her that they had been much 
 shocked to meet a peasant on the NeVsky Prospe*kt, 
 holding in his hand a live chicken, from which he was 
 taking occasional bites, feathers and all. That they 
 saw nothing of the sort is positive ; but what they 
 did see which could have been so ingeniously dis- 
 torted was more than the combined powers of the 
 countess and myself were equal to guessing. 
 
 The general idea of foreign visitors seems to be 
 that they shall find the Russia of the seventeenth 
 century. I am sure that the Russia of Ivan the 
 Terrible's time, a century earlier, would precisely 
 meet their views. They find the reality decidedly 
 tame in comparison, and feel bound to supply the 
 missing spice. A trip to the heart of Africa would, 
 I am convinced, approach much nearer to the ideal 
 of " adventure " generally cherished. The traveler 
 to Africa and to Russia is equally bound to narrate 
 marvels of his " experiences " and of the customs of 
 the natives. 
 
 But, in order to do justice to any foreign country, 
 the traveler must see people and customs not with 
 the eyes of his body only, but with the eyes of his 
 heart, if he would really understand them. Above 
 all things, he must not deliberately buckle on blind- 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 ers. Of no country is this axiom more true than of 
 Russia. A man who would see Russia clearly must 
 strip himself of all preconceived prejudices of re- 
 ligion, race, and language, and study the people from 
 their own point of view. If he goes about repeat- 
 ing Napoleon I.'s famous saying, " Scratch a Russian 
 and you will find a Tatar," he will simply betray his 
 own ignorance of history and facts. 
 
 In order to understand matters, a knowledge of 
 the language is indispensable in any country. Nat- 
 urally, very few possess this knowledge in Russia, 
 where it is most indispensable of all. There are 
 guides, but they are a lottery at best : Russians who 
 know very little English, English who know very 
 little Russian, or Germans who are impartially igno- 
 rant of both, and earn their fees by relating fables 
 about the imperial family and things in general, 
 when they are not candidly saying, " I don't know." 
 I saw more or less of that in the case of other peo- 
 ple's guides; I had none of my own, though they 
 came to me and begged the privilege of taking me 
 about gratuitously if I would recommend them. I 
 heard of it from Russians. An ideal cicerone, one 
 of the attendants in the Moscow Historical Museum, 
 complained to me on this subject, and rewarded me 
 for sparing him the infliction by getting permission 
 to take us to rooms which were not open to the pub- 
 lic, where the director himself did the honors for us. 
 Sometimes travelers dispense with the guides, as 
 well as with a knowledge of the language, but if 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 they have a talent for pronouncing what are called, 
 I believe, " snap judgments," that does not prevent 
 their fulfilling, on their return home, their tacitly 
 implied duty of uttering in print a final verdict on 
 everything from soup to government. 
 
 If the traveler be unusually lucky, he may make 
 acquaintance on a steamer with a Russian who can 
 talk English, and who can and will give him authen- 
 tic information. These three conditions are not al- 
 ways united in one person. Moreover, a stranger 
 cannot judge whether his Russian is a representa- 
 tive man or not, what is his position in the social 
 hierarchy, and what are his opportunities for know- 
 ing whereof he speaks. " Do you suppose that God, 
 who knows all things, does not know our table of 
 ranks ? " asks an arrogant General in one of the old 
 Russian comedies. I have no doubt that the Lord 
 does know that remarkable Jacob's ladder which 
 conducts to the heaven of high public place and the 
 good things of life, and whose every rung is labeled 
 with some appetizing title and privilege. But a 
 newly arrived foreigner cannot know it, or the tra- 
 ditions of the three greater, distinct classes into which 
 the people are divided. 
 
 Russians have become so used to hearing and read- 
 ing remarkable statements about themselves that 
 they only smile indulgently at each fresh specimen 
 of ill-will or ignorance. They keep themselves posted 
 on what is said of them, and frequently quote choice 
 passages for the amusement of foreigners who know 
 
x PREFACE. 
 
 better, but never when they would be forced to con- 
 descend to explanation. Alexander Dumas, Senior, 
 once wrote a book on Russia, which is a fruitful 
 source of hilarity in that country yet, and a fair 
 sample of such performances. To quote but one 
 illustration, he described halting to rest under the 
 shade of a great Tclitikva tree. The klitikva is the tiny 
 Russian cranberry, and grows accordingly. Another 
 French author quite recently contributed an item of 
 information which Russians have adopted as a char- 
 acteristic bit of ignorance and erected into .a standard 
 jest. He asserted that every village in Russia has its 
 own gallows, on which it hangs its own criminals 
 off-hand. As the death penalty is practically abolished 
 in Russia, except for high treason, which is not tried 
 in villages, the Russians are at a loss to explain 
 what the writer can have mistaken for a gallows. 
 There are two " guesses " current as to his meaning : 
 the two uprights and cross-beam of the village 
 swing ; or the upright, surmounted by a cross-board, 
 on which is inscribed the number of inhabitants in 
 the village. Most people favor the former theory, 
 but consider it a pity that he has not distinctly 
 pointed to the latter by stating that the figures there 
 inscribed represent the number of persons hanged. 
 That would have rendered the tale bloodthirsty, in- 
 teresting, absolutely perfect, from a foreign point 
 of view. 
 
 I have not attempted to analyze the " compli- 
 cated " national character. Indeed, I am not sure 
 
. PREFACE. xi 
 
 that it is complicated. Russians of all classes, from 
 the peasant up, possess a naturally simple, sympa- 
 thetic disposition and manner, as a rule, tinged with 
 a friendly warmth whose influence is felt as soon as 
 one crosses the frontier. Shall I be believed if I 
 say that I found it in custom-house officers and gen- 
 darmes ? For the rest, characters vary quite as much 
 as they do elsewhere. It is a question of individuals, 
 in character and morals, and it is dangerous to in- 
 dulge in generalizations. My one generalization is 
 that they are, as a nation, too long-suffering and 
 lenient in certain directions, that they allow too much 
 personal independence in certain things. 
 
 If I succeed in dispelling some of the absurd ideas 
 which are now current about Russia, I shall be con- ] 
 tent. If I win a little comprehension and kindly ' 
 sympathy for them, I shall be more than content. 
 
 ISABEL F. HAPGOOD. 
 NEW YORK, January 1, 1895. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE IN RUSSIA . . 1 
 
 II. THE NEVSKY PROSPKT 22 
 
 III. MY EXPERIENCE WITH THE RUSSIAN CENSOR . . 61 
 
 IV. BARGAINING IN RUSSIA 77 
 
 V. EXPERIENCES 91 
 
 VI. A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT 101 
 
 VII. A STROLL IN Moscow WITH COUNT TOLSTOY . . 134 
 
 VIII. COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME 148 
 
 IX. A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY 203 
 
 X. A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA 235 
 
 XI. THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE 288 
 
 XII. Moscow MEMORIES 311 
 
 XIII. THE NfzHNi-NovGOROD FAIR AND THE VOLGA . 330 
 
RUSSIAN RAMBLES. 
 
 I. 
 
 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND 
 
 WE imported into Russia, untaxed, undiscovered 
 by the custom-house officials, a goodly stock of mis- 
 advice, misinformation, apprehensions, and preju- 
 dices, like most foreigners, albeit we were unusually 
 well informed, and confident that we \%ere correctly 
 posted on the grand outlines of Russian life, at least. 
 We were forced to begin very promptly the invol- 
 untary process of getting rid of them. Our anxiety 
 began in Berlin. We visited the Russian consul- 
 general there to get our passports visSd. He said, 
 " You should have got the signature of the Ameri- 
 can consul. Do that, and return here." 
 
 At that moment, the door leading from his office 
 to his drawing-room opened, and his wife made her 
 appearance on the threshold, with the emphatic query, 
 44 When are you coming ?" 
 
 " Immediately, my dear," he replied. " Just wait 
 a moment, until I get rid of these Americans." 
 
 Then he decided to rid himself of us for good. 
 "I will assume the responsibility for you," he said, 
 affixed his signature on the spot, to spare himself a 
 second visit, and, collecting his fees, bowed us out. 
 I suppose he argued that we should have known the 
 
2 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 ropes and attended to all details accurately, in order 
 to ward off suspicion, had we been suspicious char- 
 acters. How could he know that the Americans 
 understood Russian, and that this plain act of " get- 
 ting rid " of us would weigh on our minds all the 
 way to the Russian frontier? 
 
 At Wirballen the police evoked a throb of grati- 
 tude, from; our ; relieved hearts. No one seemed to 
 sutspect that the American government owned a con- 
 ^ul/iA^JJevlitijwho.vould write his name on our huge 
 'parchments, ' w'rii'cn 'contrasted so strongly with the 
 compact little documents from other lands. 
 
 " Which are your passports ? " asked the tall gen- 
 darme who guarded the door of the restaurant, as 
 we passed out to take our seats in the Russian train. 
 
 " The biggest," I replied, without mentioning 
 names, and he handed them over with a grin. No 
 fuss over passports or custom-house, though we had 
 carefully provided cause ! This was beginning badly, 
 and we were disappointed at our tame experience. 
 
 On our arrival in St. Petersburg, we were not 
 even asked for our passports. Curiosity became rest- 
 less within us. Was there some sinister motive in 
 this neglect, after the harrowing tales we had heard 
 from a woman lecturer, and read in books which had 
 actually got themselves printed, about gendarmes 
 forcing themselves into people's rooms while they 
 were dressing, demanding their passports, and set- 
 ting a guard at their doors; after which, gendarmes 
 in disguises (which they were clever enough to pen- 
 etrate) followed them all over the country? Why 
 was it thus with them, and not with us ? The why 
 ripened gradually. We inquired if the passports 
 were not wanted. 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 3 
 
 " No ; if you intend to remain only a few days, it 
 is not worth while to register them," was the start- 
 ling reply ; and those wretched, unwieldy parchments 
 remained in our possession, even after we had an- 
 nounced that we did not meditate departing for some 
 time. I hesitate to set down the whole truth about 
 the anxiety they cost us for a while. How many 
 innocent officers, in crack regiments (as we discov- 
 ered when we learned the uniforms), in search of a 
 breakfast or a dinner, did we not take for the police 
 upon our tracks, in search of those concealed docu- 
 ments ! Our excitement was ministered to by the 
 Tatar waiters, who, not having knowledge of our 
 nationality, mistook us for English people, and 
 wrecked our nerves by making our tea as strong and 
 black as beer, with a view to large " tea-money " for 
 this delicate attention to our insular tastes. 
 
 If no one wanted those documents, what were we to 
 do with them ? Wear them as breastplates (folded), 
 or as garments (full size) ? No pocket of any sex 
 would tolerate them, and we had been given to 
 understand by veracious (?) travelers that it was as 
 much as our lives were worth to be separated from 
 them for a single moment. At the end of a week we 
 forced the hotel to take charge of them. They were 
 registered, and immediately thrown back on our 
 hands. Then we built lean-tos on our petticoats to 
 hold them, and carried them about until they looked 
 aged and crumpled and almost frayed, like ancestral 
 parchments. We even slept with them under our 
 pillows. At last we also were nearly worn out, and 
 we tossed those Sindbad passports into a drawer, 
 then into a trunk. There they remained for three 
 months ; and when they were demanded, we had to 
 
4 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 undertake a serious search, so completely had their 
 existence and whereabouts been lost to our lightened 
 spirits. In the mean time we had grasped the ele- 
 mentary fact that they would be required only on a 
 change of domicile. By dint of experience we learned 
 various other facts, which I may as well summarize 
 at once. 
 
 The legal price of registration is twenty kopeks 
 (about ten cents), the value of the stamp. But 
 hotel and lodging-house keepers never set it down in 
 one's bill at less than double that amount. It often 
 rises to four or five times the legal charge, according 
 to the elegance of the rooms which one occupies, and 
 also according to the daring of the landlord. In one 
 house in Moscow, they even tried to make us pay 
 again on leaving. We refused, and as we already had 
 possession of the passports, which, they pretended, 
 required a second registry, they could do nothing. 
 This abuse of overcharging for passport registration 
 on the part of landlords seems to have been general. 
 It became so serious that the Argus-eyed prefect of 
 St. Petersburg, General Gresser (now deceased), 
 issued an order that no more than the law allowed 
 should be exacted from lodgers. I presume, how- 
 ever, that all persons who could not read Russian, or 
 who did not chance to notice this regulation, con- 
 tinued to contribute to the pockets of landlords, since 
 human nature is very much alike everywhere, in cer- 
 tain professions. I had no occasion to test the point 
 personally, as the law was issued just previous to my 
 departure from the country. 
 
 The passport law seems to be interpreted by each 
 man for himself in other respects, also. In some 
 places, we found that we could stay overnight quite 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 5 
 
 informally; at others, our passports were required. 
 Once we spent an entire month incognito. At Ka- 
 zan, our balcony commanded a full view of the police 
 department of registry, directly opposite. The land- 
 lord sniffed disdainfully at the mention of our pass- 
 ports, and I am sure that we should not have been 
 asked for them at all, had not one of the officials, who 
 chanced to be less wilted by the intense heat than his 
 fellows, they had been gazing lazily at us, singly 
 and in battalions, in the intervals of their rigorous 
 idleness, for the last four and twenty hours, sud- 
 denly taken a languid interest in us about one hour 
 before our departure. The landlord said he was 
 " simply ridiculous." On another occasion, a waiter 
 in a hotel recognized the Russians who were with us 
 as neighbors of his former master in the days of 
 serfdom. He suggested that he would arrange not 
 to have our passports called for at all, since they 
 might be kept overtime, and our departure would 
 thus be delayed, and we be incommoded. Only one 
 of our friends had even taken the trouble to bring a 
 " document ; " but the whole party spent three days 
 under the protection of this ex-serf. Of course, we 
 bespoke his attendance for ourselves, and remembered 
 that little circumstance in his "tea-money." This 
 practice of detaining passports arbitrarily, from which 
 the ex-serf was protecting us, prevails in some locali- 
 ties, judging from the uproar about it in the Russian 
 newspapers. It is contrary to the law, and can be 
 resisted by travelers who have time, courage, and de- 
 termination. It appears to be a device of the land- 
 lords at watering places and summer resorts gen- 
 erally, who desire to detain guests. I doubt whether 
 the police have anything to do with it. What we 
 
6 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 paid the ex-serf for was, practically, protection against 
 his employer. 
 
 Our one experience of this device was coupled with, 
 a good deal of amusement, and initiated us into some 
 of the laws of the Russian post-office as well. To be- 
 gin my story intelligibly, I must premise that no Rus- 
 sian could ever pronounce or spell our name correctly 
 unaided. A worse name to put on a Russian official 
 document, with its ^Tand its double 0, never was in- 
 vented ! There is no letter -h in the Russian alpha- 
 bet, and it is customary to supply the deficiency with 
 the letter^, leaving the utterer to his fate as to which 
 of the two legitimate sounds the foreign or the 
 native he is to produce. It affords a test of culti- 
 vation parallel to that involved in giving a man a 
 knife and fork with a piece of pie, and observing 
 which he uses. That is the American shibboleth. 
 Lomon6soff, the famous founder of Russian literary 
 language in the last century, wrote a long rhymed 
 strophe, containing a mass of words in which the g 
 occurs legitimately and illegitimately, and wound up 
 by wailing out the query, " Who can emerge from 
 the crucial test of pronouncing all these correctly, 
 on impeached?" That is the Russian shibboleth. 
 
 As a result of this peculiarity, our passports came 
 back from each trip to the police office indorsed with 
 a brand-new version of our name. We figured under 
 Gepgud, Gapgod, Gabgot, and a number of other 
 disguises, all because they persisted in spelling by 
 the eye, and would not accept my perfect phonetic- 
 version. The same process applied to the English 
 name Wylie has resulted in the manufacture of Vil- 
 lie. And the pleasant jest of it all was that we 
 never troubled ourselves to sort our passports, because, 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 1 
 
 although there existed not the slightest family resem- 
 blance even between my mother and myself, we looked 
 exactly alike in those veracious mirrors. This ex- 
 plained to our dull comprehension how the stories 
 of people using stolen passports could be true. How- 
 ever, the Russians were not to blame for this partic- 
 ular absurdity. It was the fault of the officials in 
 America. 
 
 On the occasion to which I refer, we had gone out 
 of St. Petersburg, and had left a written order for 
 the post-office authorities to forward our mail to our 
 new address. The bank officials, who should cer- 
 tainly have known better, had said that this would 
 be sufficient, and had even prepared the form, on 
 their stamped paper, for our signature. Ten days 
 elapsed ; no letters came. Then the form was re- 
 turned, with orders to get our signatures certified to 
 by the chief of police or the police captain of our dis- 
 trict ! When we recovered from our momentary 
 vexation, we perceived that this was an excellent 
 safeguard. I set out for the house of the chief of 
 police. 
 
 His orderly said he was not at home, but would 
 be there at eleven o'clock. I took a little look into 
 the church, my infallible receipt for employing 
 spare moments profitably, which has taught me many 
 things. At eleven o'clock the chief was still " not 
 at home." I decided that this was in an " official " 
 sense only, when I caught sight of a woman survey- 
 ing me cautiously through the crack of the opposite 
 door to the antechamber. I immediately jumped to 
 the conclusion that a woman calling upon a chief of 
 police was regarded as a suspicious character ; and 
 rightly, after various shooting incidents in St. Peters- 
 
8 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 burg. My suspicions were confirmed by my memory 
 of the fact that I had been told that the prefect of 
 St. Petersburg was " not at home " in business hours, 
 though his gray lambskin cap the only one in 
 town was lying before me at the time. But I also 
 recollected that when I had made use of that cap as 
 a desk, on which to write my request, to the horror 
 of the orderly, and had gone home, the prefect had 
 sent a gendarme to do what I wanted. Accordingly, 
 I told this orderly my business in a loud, clear voice. 
 The crack of the door widened as I proceeded, and 
 at my last word I was invited into the chief's study 
 by the orderly, who had been signaled to. 
 
 The chief turned out to be a polished and amiable 
 baron, with a German name, who was eager to ren- 
 der any service, but who had never come into colli- 
 sion with that post-office regulation before. I re- 
 marked that I regretted not being able to certify to 
 ourselves with our passports, as they had not been 
 returned to us. He declared that the passports were 
 quite unnecessary as a means of identification ; my 
 word was sufficient. But he flew into a rage over 
 the detention of the passports. That something de- 
 cidedly vigorous took place over those papers, and 
 that the landlord of our hotel was to blame, it was 
 easy enough to gather from the meek air and the 
 apologies with which they were handed to us, a 
 couple of hours later. The chief dispatched his or- 
 derly on the spot with my post-office petition. Dur- 
 ing the man's absence, the chief brought in and in- 
 troduced to me his wife, his children, and his dogs, 
 and showed me over his house and garden. We were 
 on very good terms by the time the orderly returned 
 with the signature of the prefect (who had never 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 9 
 
 seen us) certifying to our signatures, on faith. The 
 baron sealed the petition for me with his biggest coat 
 of arms, and posted it, and the letters came promptly 
 and regularly. Thereafter, for the space of our four 
 months' stay in the place, the baron and I saluted 
 when we met. We even exchanged " shakehands," 
 as foreigners call the operation, and the compliments 
 of the day, in church, when the baron escorted roy- 
 alty. I think he was a Lutheran, and went to that 
 church when etiquette did not require his presence 
 at the Russian services, where I was always to be 
 found. 
 
 As, during those four months, I obtained several 
 very special privileges which required the prefect's 
 signature, as foreigners were by no means com- 
 mon residents there, and as I had become so well 
 known by sight to most of the police force of the 
 town that they saluted me when I passed, and their 
 dogs wagged their tails at me and begged for a 
 caress, I imagined that I was properly introduced to 
 the authorities, and that they could lay hands upon 
 me at any moment when the necessity for so doing 
 should become apparent. Nevertheless, one friend, 
 having applied to the police for my address, spent 
 two whole days in finding me, at haphazard. After 
 a residence of three months, other friends appealed 
 in vain to the police; then obtained from the pre- 
 fect, who had certified to us, the information that no 
 such persons lived in the town, the only foreigners 
 there being two sisters named Genrut ! With this 
 lucid clue our friends cleverly found us. Those who 
 understand Russian script will be able to unravel 
 the process by which we were thus disguised and 
 lost. We had been lost before that in St. Peters- 
 
10 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 burg, and we recognized the situation, with varia- 
 tions, at a glance. There is no such thing as a real 
 practical directory in Russian cities. When one's 
 passport is vis^d by the police, the name and infor- 
 mation therein set forth are copied on a large sheet 
 of paper, and this document takes its place among 
 many thousand others, on the thick wire files of the 
 Address Office. I went there once. That was 
 enough in every way. It lingers in my mind as the 
 darkest, dirtiest, worst-ventilated, most depressing 
 place I saw in Russia. 
 
 If one wishes to obtain the address of any person, 
 he goes or sends to this Address Office, fills out a 
 blank, for which he pays a couple of kopeks, and, 
 after patient waiting for the over-busy officials to 
 search the big files, he receives a written reply, with 
 which he must content himself. The difficulty, in 
 general, about this system lies here : one must know 
 the exact Christian name, patronymic, and surname 
 of the person wanted, and how to spell them cor- 
 rectly (according to police lights). One must also 
 know the exact occupation of the person, if he be 
 not a noble living on his income, without business or 
 official position. Otherwise, the attempt to find any 
 one is a harder task than finding the proverbial 
 needle in a haystack. A person who had been asked 
 to call upon us, and who afterward became a valued 
 friend, tried three times in vain to find us by this 
 means, and was informed that we did not exist. 
 This was owing to some eccentricity in the official 
 spelling of our name. An application to the Ameri- 
 can Legation, as a desperate final resort, served the 
 purpose at last. The same thing happened when 
 the telegraph messenger tried to find us, to deliver 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 11 
 
 an important cablegram. Still, in spite of this ex- 
 perience, I always regarded my passport as an impor- 
 tant means of protection. In case of accident, one 
 could be traced by it. A traveler's passport once 
 registered at the police office, the landlord or lodging- 
 house keeper is responsible for the life of his guest. 
 If the landlord have any bandit propensities, this 
 serves as a check upon them, since he is bound to 
 produce the person, or to say what has become of 
 him. In the same way, when one is traveling by 
 iinperiaLpost carriage, the postilion must deliver his 
 passenger safe and sound at the next post station, 
 or be promptly arrested. The passport serves here 
 as a sort of waybill for the human freight. When a 
 foreigner's passport is registered for the first time, 
 he receives permission to remain six months in the 
 country. At the expiration of that period, on formal 
 application, a fresh permit is issued, which must be 
 paid for, and which covers one year. This takes the 
 form of a special document, attached to the foreign 
 passport with cord and sealing-wax ; and attached to 
 it, in turn, is a penalty for cutting the cord or tam- 
 pering with the official seal. These acts must be 
 done by the proper officials. I thought it might be 
 interesting to attend to securing this special permit 
 myself instead of sending the dvtirnik (the yard 
 porter), whose duties comprise as many odds and 
 ends as those of the prime minister of an empire. 
 
 At the office I was questioned concerning my reli- 
 gion and my occupation, which had not been in- 
 quired into previously. The question about religion 
 was a mere formality, as they care nothing for one's 
 creed. I stated, in reply to the last question, that I 
 was merely " a traveler." 
 
12 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 " Don't say that ; it 's too expensive," returned 
 the official, in a friendly way. 
 
 " To whom ? How ? " I asked. 
 
 "To you, of course. A traveler, as a person of 
 leisure, pays a huge tax." 
 
 " Call me a literary person, then, if you like." 
 
 " That 's not an occupation ! " (Observe the deli- 
 cate, unconscious sarcasm of this rejoinder ! As a 
 matter of fact, the Russian idea of literary men is 
 that they all hold some government or other appoint- 
 ment, on the committee of censorship, for example, 
 some ratable position. Upon this they can de- 
 pend for a livelihood, aside from the product of their 
 brains ; which is practical, and affords a firm founda- 
 tion upon which to execute caprices.) 
 
 He suggested various things which I was not, and 
 I declined to accept his suggestions. We got it set- 
 tled at last, though he shook his head over my ex- 
 travagant obstinacy in paying two dollars, when I 
 might have got off with half the sum and a lie. He 
 imparted a good deal of amusing information as to 
 the manner in which people deliberately evade the 
 passport tax with false statements ; for example, 
 governesses, who would scorn to be treated as nurses, 
 get themselves described as bonnes to save money. 
 I have no doubt that the authorities amiably assist 
 them by friendly suggestions, as in my own case ; 
 only I decline to sail under false colors, by the au- 
 thority of my own government or any other ; so his 
 amiability was wasted so far as I was concerned. 
 
 It would seem to the ordinary reader that the 
 police would be able to lay hands on a man, when he 
 was wanted, with tolerable promptness and accuracy, 
 after all the details which the law requires in these 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 13 
 
 " address tickets," as the local passports are called, 
 had been duly furnished. But I remember one case 
 among several which impressed me as instructive 
 and amusing. The newspapers told the tale, which 
 ran somewhat as follows : A wealthy woman of posi- 
 tion, residing in one of the best quarters of St. Peters- 
 burg, hired a prepossessing young lackey as one of 
 her large staff of domestics. Shortly after his ad- 
 vent, many articles of value began to disappear. 
 Finally, suspicion having turned on this lackey, he 
 also disappeared, and the police undertook to find 
 him. It then became apparent that the fellow had 
 used a fake passport and address, and was not to be 
 found where he was inscribed. He caused an excit- 
 ing chase. This ended in the discovery of a regular 
 robbers* nest, where a large number of false pass- 
 ports were captured, the prepossessing lackey and his 
 friends having abandoned them in their attempt to 
 escape. The papers were also constantly remarking 
 on the use made by peasant men of their passports. 
 The wife is inscribed on the husband's " document," 
 separate passports for wives being, as a rule, difficult 
 of attainment in the lower classes. The peasants are 
 thus able, and often willing, to control their wives' 
 places of residence and movements, and preserve en- 
 tire liberty of action for themselves, since their con- 
 sent is required for the separate passport, or for the 
 wives' movements on the common passport. In such 
 cases the passport does become an instrument of op- 
 pression, from either the Occidental or the Oriental 
 point of view. 
 
 As for the stories told by travelers of officious 
 meddling by the police on their arrival in Russia, ' 
 and of their footsteps being dogged, I have recently ' 
 
14 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 been favored with some light on that subject. I be- 
 lieve the tales, with reservations, since some perfectly 
 innocent and truthful friends of mine related to me 
 their own similar experience. A man, who seemed 
 to their inexperienced eyes to be a police officer, told 
 them that the authorities thought three weeks, one 
 in Petersburg and two elsewhere, would be amply 
 sufficient for their travels in Russia. They had a 
 high-priced French courier, who pretended to know 
 a little Russian. Perhaps he did know enough for 
 his own purposes. He told them that they were 
 watched constantly, and translated for the officer. 
 But he did not tell them that they already had per- 
 mission to remain in the country for the customary 
 six months. I made them get out their passports, 
 and showed them the official stamp and signature to 
 that effect. This clever courier afterward stole from 
 them, in Warsaw, a quantity of diamonds which he 
 had helped them to purchase in Moscow, and of whose 
 existence and whereabouts in their trunks no one but 
 himself was aware. This helped me to an explana- 
 tion. It is invariably the couriers or guides, I find, 
 who tell travelers these alarming tales, and neglect 
 to inform them of their rights. It certainly looks 
 very much as if some confederate of theirs imper- 
 sonates a police official, and as if they misinterpret. 
 The stories of spies forever in attendance seem to 
 be manufactured for the purpose of extorting hand- 
 some gratuities from their victims for their "pro- 
 tection," and for the purpose of frightening the 
 latter out of the country before their own ignorance 
 is discovered. As I never employed the guides, I 
 never had any trouble with the police, either genuine 
 or manufactured. I visited the police stations when- 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 15 
 
 ever I could make an excuse ; and when I wished to 
 know when and where the Emperor was to be seen, 
 I asked a policeman or a gendarme. He always told 
 me the exact truth unhesitatingly, and pointed out 
 the best position. It was refreshing after the Ger- 
 man police, who put one through the Inquisition as 
 to one's self and one's ancestors as soon as one ar- 
 rives, and who prove themselves lineal descendants 
 of Ananias or Baron Munchausen when a traveler 
 asks for information. 
 
 When we wished to leave the country, I again 
 usurped the dvdrnik's duties, and paid another visit 
 to the passport office, to inspect its workings. Our 
 Russian passports were clipped out, and little books 
 were given us, which constituted our permission to 
 leave Russia at any time within the next three 
 months, by any route we pleased, without further 
 ceremony. These booklets contained information re- 
 lating to the tax imposed on Russians for absenting 
 themselves from their country for various periods, the 
 custom-house regulations which forbid the entry, duty 
 free, of more than one fur cloak, cap, and muff to 
 each person, etc., since these books form return pass- 
 ports for Russians, though we surrendered ours at 
 the frontier. As the hotel clerk or porter attends to 
 all passport details, few foreigners see the inside of 
 the office, or hear the catechisms which are conducted 
 there, as I did. It is vulgar, it smacks of commercial 
 life, to go one's self. Apathy and lack of interest can 
 always be relied upon to brand one as aristocratic. 
 In this case, however, as in many others, I considered 
 myself repaid for following Poor Richard's advice : 
 " If you want a thing done, do it yourself ; if not, 
 send ! " 
 
16 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 To sum up the passport question : If his passport 
 is in order, the traveler need never entertain the 
 slightest apprehension for a single moment, despite 
 sensational tales to the contrary, and it will serve 
 f as a safeguard. If, for any good reason, his pass- 
 port cannot be put in order, the traveler will do well 
 to keep out of Russia, or any other country which 
 requires such documents. In truth, although we do 
 not require them in this country, America would be 
 better off if all people who cannot undergo a passport 
 scrutiny, and a German, not a Russian, passport 
 examination, were excluded from it. 
 
 I have mentioned the post-office in connection with 
 our passports. Subsequently, I had several entertain- 
 ing interviews with the police and others on that 
 point. One Sunday afternoon, in Moscow, we went 
 to the police station of our quarter to get our change- 
 of-address petition to the post-office authorities signed. 
 There was nothing of interest about the shabby build- 
 ing or the rooms, on this occasion. The single officer 
 on duty informed us that he was empowered to at- 
 tend only to cases of drunkenness, breaches of the 
 peace, and the like. We must return on Monday, 
 he declared. 
 
 " No," said I. " Why make us waste all that time 
 in beautiful Moscow ? Here are our passports to 
 identify us. Will you please to tell the captain, as 
 soon as he arrives to-morrow morning, that we are 
 genuine, and request him to sign this petition and 
 post it ? " 
 
 The officer courteously declined to look at the pass- 
 ports, said that my word was sufficient, and accepted 
 my commission. Then, rising, drawing himself up, 
 with the heels of his high wrinkled boots in regula- 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 17 
 
 tion contact, and the scarlet pipings of his baggy green 
 trousers and tight coat bristling with martial eti- 
 quette, he made me a profound bow, hand on heart, 
 and said : " Madam, accept the thanks of Russia for 
 the high honor you have done her in learning her 
 difficult language ! " 
 
 I accepted Russia's thanks with due pomp, and 
 hastened into the street. That small, low-roofed sta- 
 tion house seemed to be getting too contracted to con- 
 tain all of us and etiquette. 
 
 Again, upon another occasion, also in Moscow, it 
 struck us that it would be a happy idea and a clever 
 economy of time to get ourselves certified to before 
 our departure, instead of after our arrival in St. Pe- 
 tersburg. Accordingly, we betook ourselves, in a 
 violent snowstorm, to the police station inside the 
 walls of the old city, as we had changed our hotel, 
 and that was now our quarter. 
 
 A vision of cells ; of unconfined prisoners tran- 
 quilly executing hasty repairs on their clothing, with 
 twine or something similar, in the anteroom ; of a 
 complete police hierarchy, running through all the 
 gradations of pattern in gold and silver embroidery 
 to the plain uniform of the roundsman, gladdened our 
 sight while we waited. A gorgeous silver-laced offi- 
 cial finally certified our identity, as usual without 
 other proof than our statement, and, clapping a five- 
 kopek stamp on our paper, bowed us out. I had 
 never seen a stamp on such a document before, and 
 had never been asked to pay anything ; but I re- 
 strained my natural eagerness to reimburse the gov- 
 ernment and ask questions, with the idea that it might 
 have been a purely mechanical action on the part of 
 the officer, and in the hope of developments. They 
 
18 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 came. A couple of hours later, a messenger entered 
 our room at the hotel, without knocking, in Russian 
 lower-class style, and demanded thirty kopeks for the 
 signature. I offered to pay for the stamp on the 
 spot, and supply the remaining twenty-five kopeks 
 when furnished with an adequate reason therefor. 
 
 " Is the captain's signature worth so much ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " That is very little," was the answer. 
 
 " So it is. Is the captain's signature worth so 
 little? Tell me why." 
 
 He could not, or would not. 
 
 I made him wait while I wrote a petition to the 
 police. The burden of it was : " Why ? I was born 
 an American and curious; not too curious, but just 
 curious enough to be interested in the ethnographical 
 and psychological problems of foreign lands. Why 
 the twenty-five kopeks? It is plainly too little or 
 too much. Why ? " 
 
 The messenger accepted the five kopeks for the 
 stamp, and set out to deliver the document. But he 
 returned after a moment, and said that he would in- 
 trust the five kopeks to my safe-keeping until he 
 brought the answer to my document, which he had 
 had just sufficient time to read, by the way. That 
 was the last I ever heard of him or of it, and I was 
 forced to conclude that some thirsty soul had been 
 in quest of " tea-money " for v6dka. I am still in 
 debt to the Russian government for five kopeks. 
 
 The last time I arrived in Petersburg, I tried a 
 new plan. Instead of making a trip of a couple of 
 miles to get the signature of our police captain, or 
 sending the petition at the languid convenience of 
 the overworked dvtimik, I went to the general post- 
 
POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 19 
 
 oil'icv, which was close by, and made a personal re- 
 quest that my mail matter be delivered at my new 
 address. The proper official, whom I found after a 
 search through most of the building, during which I 
 observed their methods, declared that my request 
 was illegal, and ordered me to go for the customary 
 signature. But by this time I had learned that 
 the mere threat to make Russian officials inspect 
 my passport was productive of much the same effect 
 as drawing a pistol on them would have had. It 
 was not in the least necessary to have the document 
 with' me ; going through the motions was easier, and 
 quite as good. Every man of them flushed up, and 
 repelled the suggestion as a sort of personal insult ; 
 but they invariably came to terms on the spot. Ac- 
 cordingly, I tried it here. 
 
 This particular man, when I pretended to draw 
 my " open sesame " spell from my pocket, instantly 
 dropped his official air, asked me to write my name, 
 with quite a human, friendly manner, and then re- 
 marked, with a very every-day laugh, " That is suffi- 
 cient. I have seen so much of it on your previous 
 petitions that I can swear to it myself much better 
 than the police captain could." 
 
 As an offset to my anecdotes about our being lost 
 through inability to riddle out our name on the part 
 of the police, I must relate an instance where the 
 post-office displayed remarkable powers of divination. 
 One day I received an official notification from the 
 post-office that there was a misdirected parcel for me 
 from Moscow, lying in the proper office, would I 
 please to call for it ? I called. The address on the 
 parcel was " Madame Argot," I was informed, but I 
 must get myself certified to before I could receive it. 
 
20 PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 
 
 "But how am I to do that? I am not Madame 
 Argot. Are you sure the parcel is for me? " 
 
 " Perfectly. It 's your affair to get the certifi- 
 cate." 
 
 I went to the police station, one which I had not 
 visited before, and stated the case. 
 
 " Go home and send the dv6rnik, as is proper," 
 replied the captain loftily. 
 
 I argued the matter, after my usual fashion, and 
 at last he affixed his signature to my document, with 
 the encouraging remark : " Well, even with this you 
 won't get that parcel, because the name is not 
 yours." 
 
 " Trust me for that," I retorted. " As they are 
 clever enough to know that it is for me, they will 
 be clever enough to give it to me, or I will persuade 
 them that they are." 
 
 Back I went to the post-office. I had never been 
 in that department previously, I may mention. Then 
 I was shown a box, and asked if I expected it, and 
 from whom it came. I asserted utter ignorance ; 
 but, as I took it in my hand, I heard a rattling, and 
 it suddenly flashed across my mind that it might be 
 the proofs of some photographs which the Moscow 
 artist had "hurried" through in one month. The 
 amiable post-office " blindman," who had riddled out 
 the address, was quite willing to give me the parcel 
 without further ado, but I said : 
 
 " Open it, and you will soon see whether it really 
 belongs to me." 
 
 After much protestation he did so, and then we 
 exchanged lavish compliments, he on the capital 
 likenesses and the skill of the artist ; I on the stu- 
 pidity of the man who could evolve Argot out of my 
 
PASSPORTS, POLICE, AND POST-OFFICE. 21 
 
 legibly engraved visiting-card, and on the cleverness 
 of the man who could translate that name back into 
 its original form. 
 
 The most prominent instance of minute thought- 
 fulness and care on the part of the post-office officials 
 which came -under my notice occurred in the depths 
 of the country. I sent a letter with a ten-kopek 
 stamp on it to the post town, twelve versts distant. 
 Foreign postage had been raised from seven to ten 
 kopeks, and stamps, in a new design, of the latter 
 denomination (hitherto non-existent) had been in use 
 for about four months. The country postmaster, who 
 had seen nothing but the old issues, carefully removed 
 my stamp and sent it back to me, replacing it with a 
 seven-kopek stamp and a three-kopek stamp. I felt, 
 for a moment, as though I had been both highly com- 
 plimented and gently rebuked for my remarkable 
 skill in counterfeiting ! 
 
 As a parallel case, I may add that there were plenty 
 of intelligent people in New York city and elsewhere 
 who were not aware that the United States still 
 issued three-cent stamps, or who could tell the color 
 of them, until the Columbian set appeared to attract 
 their attention. 
 
II. 
 
 THE NEVSKY PKOSPEKT. 
 
 THE Ndvsky Prospe'kt ! 
 
 From the time when, as children, we first encoun- 
 ter the words, in geographical compilations disguised 
 as books of travel, what visions do they not summon 
 up ! Visions of the realm of the Frost King and of 
 his Regent, the White Tzar, as fantastic as any of 
 those narrated of tropic climes by Scheherezade, and 
 with which we are far more familiar than we are 
 with the history of our native land. 
 
 When we attain to the reality of our visions, in 
 point of locality at least, we find a definite starting- 
 point ready to our hand, where veracious legend and 
 more veracious history are satisfactorily blended. 
 It is at the eastern extremity of the famous broad 
 avenue, which is the meaning of Prospekt. Here, 
 on the bank of the Neva, tradition alleges that Alex- 
 ander, Prince of Novgorod, won his great battle 
 and, incidentally, his surname of Nevsky and his 
 post of patron saint of Russia over the united 
 forces of the Swedes and oppressive Knights of the 
 Teutonic Order, in the year 1240. 
 
 Nearly five hundred years later, the spot was occu- 
 pied by Rhitiowa, one of the forty Finnish villages 
 scattered over the present site of St. Petersburg, as 
 designated by the maps of the Swedes, whom Peter 
 the Great practically Russia's second patron saint 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 23 
 
 expelled anew when he captured their thriving 
 commercial town, on the shore of the Neva, directly 
 opposite, now known as Malaya Okhta, possessed of 
 extensive foreign trade, and of a church older than 
 the capital, which recently celebrated its two-hun- 
 dredth anniversary. 
 
 It was in 1710 that Peter I. named the place 
 " Victory," in honor of Prince-Saint Alexander Nev- 
 sky's conquest, and commanded the erection of a 
 Lavra, or first-class monastery, the seat of a Metro- 
 politan and of a theological seminary. By 1716 the 
 monastery was completed, in wood, as engravings of 
 that day show us, but in a very different form from 
 the complex of stone buildings of the present day. 
 Its principal facade, with extensive, stiffly arranged 
 gardens, faced upon the river, the only means 
 of communication in that town, planted on a bog, 
 threaded with marshy streams, being by boat. In 
 fact, for a long time horses were so scarce in the 
 infant capital, where reindeer were used in sledges 
 even as late as the end of the last century, that no one 
 was permitted to come to Court, during Peter the 
 Great's reign, otherwise than by water. Necessity 
 and the enforced cultivation of aquatic habits in his 
 inland subjects, which the enterprising Emperor had 
 so much at heart, combined to counsel this regulation. 
 
 The bones of Prince Alexander were brought to St. 
 Petersburg, from their resting-place in the Vladimir 
 Government, in 1724, Peter the Great occupying 
 his favorite post as pilot and steersman in the saint's 
 state barge, and they now repose in the monastery 
 cathedral, under a canopy, and in a tomb of silver, 
 3600 pounds in weight, given by Peter's daughter, 
 the devout Empress Elizabeth. In the cemetery sur- 
 
24 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 rounding the cathedral, under the fragrant firs and 
 birches, with the blue Neva rippling far below, lie 
 many of the men who have contributed to the ad- 
 vancement of their country in literature, art, and 
 science, during the last two centuries. 
 
 Of all the historical memories connected with this 
 monastery none is more curious than that relating to 
 the second funeral of Peter III. He had been buried 
 by his wife, in 1762, with much simplicity, in one 
 of the many churches of the Lavra, which contains 
 the family tombs and monuments not only of mem- 
 bers of the imperial family, but of the noble fami- 
 lies most illustrious in the eighteenth century. When 
 Paul I. came to the throne, in 1796, his first care 
 was to give his long-deceased father a more fitting 
 burial. The body was exhumed. Surrounded by 
 his court, Pavel Petrovitch took the imperial crown 
 from the altar, placed it on his own head, then laid 
 it reverently on his father's coffin. When Peter III. 
 was transferred immediately afterward, with magni- 
 ficent ceremonial, to the Winter Palace, there to lie 
 in state by the side of his wife, Katherine II., and 
 to accompany her to his proper resting-place among 
 the sovereigns of Russia, in the cathedral of the 
 Peter-Paul fortress, Count Alexel Grigore'vitch Orloff 
 was appointed, with fine irony, to carry the crown 
 before his former master, whom he had betrayed, 
 and in the necessity for whose first funeral he had 
 played the part of Fate. It was with considerable 
 difficulty that he was hunted up, while Emperor and 
 pageant waited, in the obscure corner where he was 
 sobbing and weeping ; and with still greater diffi- 
 culty was he finally persuaded to perform the task 
 assigned to him in the procession. 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 25 
 
 Outside the vast monastery, which, like most Rus- 
 sian monasteries, resembles a fortress, though, unlike 
 most of them, it has never served as such, the scene 
 is almost rural. Pigeons, those symbols of the Holy 
 Ghost, inviolable in Russia, attack with impunity 
 the grain bags in the acres of storehouses opposite, 
 pick holes, and eat their fill undisturbed. 
 
 From this spot to the slight curve in the Prospe'kt, 
 at the Znamenskaya Square, a distance of about a 
 mile, where the Moscow railway station is situated, 
 and where the train of steam tram-cars is superseded 
 by less terrifying horse-cars, the whole aspect of the 
 avenue is that of a provincial town, in the character 
 of the people and the buildings, even to the favorite 
 crushed strawberry and azure washes, and green iron 
 roofs on the countrified shops. Here and there, not 
 very far away, a log-house may even be espied. 
 
 During the next three quarters of a mile the 
 houses and shops are more city-like, and, being 
 newer than those beyond, are more ornamented as 
 to the stucco of their windows and doors. Here, as 
 elsewhere in this stoneless land, with rare exceptions, 
 the buildings are of brick or rubble, stuccoed and 
 washed, generally in light yellow, with walls three 
 feet or more apart, warmly filled in, and ventilated 
 through the hermetically sealed windows by ample 
 panes in the centre of the sashes, or by apertures in 
 the string-courses between stories, which open into 
 each room. Shops below, apartments above, this is 
 the nearly invariable rule. 
 
 It is only when we reach the Anitchkoff Bridge, 
 with its graceful railing of sea-horses, adorned with 
 four colossal bronze groups of horse-tamers, from the 
 hand of the Russian sculptor, Baron Klodt, that the 
 really characteristic part of the Nevsky begins. 
 
26 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 It is difficult to believe that fifty years ago this 
 spot was the end of the Petersburg world. But at 
 that epoch the Nevsky was decorated with rows of 
 fine large trees, which have now disappeared to 
 the last twig. The Fontanka River, or canal, over 
 which we stand, offers the best of the many illustra- 
 tions of the manner in which Peter the Great, with 
 his ardent love of water and Dutch ways, and his 
 worthy successors have turned natural disadvantages 
 into advantages and objects of beauty. The Fon- 
 tanka was the largest of the numerous marshy rivers 
 in that Arctic bog selected by Peter I. for his new 
 capital, which have been deepened, widened, faced 
 with cut granite walls, and utilized as means of 
 cheap communication between distant parts of the 
 city, and as relief channels for the inundating waves 
 of the Gulf of Finland, which rise, more or less, 
 every year, from August to November, at the behest 
 of the southwest gale. That this last precaution is 
 not superfluous is shown by the iron flood-mark set 
 into the wall of the Anitchkoff Palace, on the south- 
 ern shore of the Fontanka, as on so many other pub- 
 lic buildings in the city, with "1824" appended, 
 the date of one celebrated and disastrous inundation 
 which attained in some places the height of thir- 
 teen feet and seven inches. This particular river 
 derived its name from the fact that it was trained 
 to carry water and feed the fountains in Peter the 
 Great's favorite Summer Garden, of which only one 
 now remains. 
 
 At the close of the last century, and even later, 
 persons out of favor at Court, or nobles who had 
 committed misdemeanors, were banished to the 
 southern shores of the Fontdnka, as to a foreign 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 27 
 
 land. Among the amusements at the ddtchas, the 
 wooden country houses, in the wilder recesses of 
 the vast parks which studded both shores, the chase 
 after wild animals, and from bandits, played a promi- 
 nent part. 
 
 The stretch which we have traversed on our way 
 from the monastery, and which is punctuated at the 
 corner of the canal and the Prospekt by the pleasing 
 brick and granite palace of the Emperor's brother, 
 Grand Duke Sergiei Alexandrovitch, which formerly 
 belonged to Prince Byelose'lsky-Byeloze'rsky, was the 
 suburb belonging to Lieutenant-Colonel Anitchkoff, 
 who built the first bridge, of wood, in 1715. As 
 late as the reign of Alexander I., all persons entering 
 the town were required to inscribe their names in the 
 register kept at the barrier placed at this bridge. 
 Some roguish fellows having conspired to cast ridi- 
 cule on this custom, by writing absurd names, the 
 guards were instructed to make an example of the 
 next jester whose name should strike them as suspi- 
 cious. Fate willed that the imperial comptroller, 
 Baltazar Baltazarovitch Kampenhausen, with his Rus- 
 sianized German name, should fall a victim to this 
 order, and he was detained until his fantastic cogno- 
 men, so harsh to Slavic ears, could be investigated. 
 
 By day or by night, in winter or summer, it is a 
 pure delight to stand on the Anitchkoff Bridge and 
 survey the scene on either hand. If we gaze to the 
 north toward what is one of the oldest parts settled 
 on the rivulet-riddled so-called " mainland," in this 
 Northern Venice, we see the long, plain fagade of 
 the Katherine Institute for the education of the 
 daughters of officers, originally built by Peter the 
 Great for his daughter Anna, as the " Italian Pal- 
 
28 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 ace," but used only for the palace servants, until it 
 was built over and converted to its present purpose. 
 Beyond, we catch a glimpse of the yellow wings of 
 Count ScheremetiefFs ancient house and its great 
 iron railing, behind which, in a spacious courtyard, 
 after the Moscow fashion so rare in thrifty Peters- 
 burg, the main building lies invisible to us. If we 
 look to the south, we find the long ochre mass of the 
 Anitchkoff Palace, facing on the Ne*vsky, upon the 
 right shore ; on the left, beyond the palace of Sergie*i 
 Alexandrovitch, the branch of the Alexander NeV- 
 sky Monastery, in old Russian style, with highly 
 colored saints and heads of seraphim on the outer 
 walls ; and a perspective of light, stuccoed building, 
 - dwellings, markets, churches, until the eye 
 halts with pleasure on the distant blue dome of the 
 Troitzky cathedral, studded with golden stars. In- 
 deed, it is difficult to discover a vista in St. Peters- 
 burg which does not charm us with a glimpse of one 
 or more of these cross-crowned domes, floating, bub- 
 ble-like, in the pale azure of the sky. Though they 
 are far from being as beautiful in form or coloring 
 as those of Moscow, they satisfy us at the moment. 
 
 If it is on a winter night that we take up our 
 stand here, we may catch a distant glimpse of the 
 numerous " skating-gardens," laid out upon the ice 
 cleared on the snowy surface of the canal. The ice- 
 hills will be black with forms flitting swiftly down 
 the shining roads on sledges or skates, illuminated by 
 the electric light ; a band will be braying blithely, 
 regardless of the piercing cold, and the skaters will 
 dance on, in their fancy-dress ball or prize races, or 
 otherwise, clad so thinly as to amaze the shivering 
 foreigner as he hugs his furs. 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 29 
 
 By day the teamsters stand upon the quay, with 
 rough aprons over their ballet - skirted sheepskin 
 coats, waiting for a job. If we hire one of them, we 
 shall find that they all belong to the ancient Russian 
 Artdl, or Labor Union, which prevents competition 
 beyond a certain point. When the price has been 
 fixed, after due and inevitable chaffering, one lomovtii 
 grasps his shapeless cap by its worn edge of fur, 
 bites a kopek, and drops it in. Each of the other 
 men contributes a marked copper likewise, and we 
 are invited to draw lots, in full view, to determine 
 which of them shall have the job. The master of 
 the Arte*! sees to it that there is fair play on both 
 sides. If an unruly member presumes to intervene 
 with a lower bid, with the object of monopolizing 
 the job out of turn, he is promptly squelched, and, 
 though his bid may be allowed to stand, the man 
 whose kopek we have drawn must do the work. The 
 winner chee-ee-eeps to his little horse, whose shaggy 
 mane has been tangled by the loving hand of the 
 domov6i (house-sprite) and hangs to his knees. The 
 patient beast, which, like all Russian horses, is never 
 covered, no matter how severe the weather may be, 
 or how hot he may be from exercise, rouses himself 
 from his real or simulated slumber, and takes up 
 the burden of life again, handicapped by the huge 
 wooden arch, gayly painted in flowers and initials, 
 which joins his shafts, and does stout service despite 
 his sorry aspect. 
 
 But the early summer is the season when the 
 Fontanka is to be seen in its most characteristic 
 state. The brilliant blue water sparkles under the 
 hot sun, or adds one more tint to the exquisite hues 
 which make of the sky one vast, gleaming fire-opal 
 
30 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 on those marvelous " white nights " when darkness 
 never descends to a depth beyond the point where 
 it leaves all objects with natural forms and colors, 
 and only spiritualizes them with the gentle vague- 
 ness of a translucent veil. Small steamers, manned 
 by wooden-faced, blond Finns, connect the unfash- 
 ionable suburban quarters, lying near the canal's 
 entrance into the Neva on the west, with the fash- 
 ionable Court quarter on the northern quays at its 
 other entrance into the Nevd, seven versts away. 
 They dart about like sea-gulls, picking their path, 
 not unfraught with serious danger, among the ob- 
 structions. The obstructions are many : washing- 
 house boats (it is a good old unexploded theory in 
 Petersburg that clothes are clean only when rinsed 
 in running water, even though our eyes and noses 
 inform us, unaided by chart, where the drainage 
 goes) ; little flotillas of dingy flat-boats, anchored 
 around the " Fish-Gardens," and containing the lat- 
 ter's stock in trade, where persons of taste pick their 
 second dinner-course out of the flopping inmates of 
 a temporary scoop-net ; huge, unwieldy, wood barks, 
 put together with wooden pegs, and steered with 
 long, clumsy rudders, which the poor peasants have 
 painfully poled tramp, tramp, tramp, along the 
 sides through four hundred miles of tortuous 
 waterways from that province of the former haughty 
 republic, " Lord Novgorod the Great," where Prince 
 Rurik ruled and laid the foundations of the present 
 imperial empire, and whence came Prince -Saint 
 Alexander, to win his surname of NeVsky, as we 
 have seen, at the spot where his monastery stands, a 
 couple of miles, at most, away. 
 
 The boatmen, who have trundled all day long 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 31 
 
 their quaint little barrows over the narrow iron rails 
 into the spacious inner courtyards of the houses on 
 the quay, and have piled up their wood for winter 
 fuel, or loaded it into the carts for less accessible 
 buildings, now sit on the stern of their barks, over 
 their coarse food, - sour black bread, boiled buck- 
 wheat groats, and salted cucumbers, doffing their 
 hats and crossing themselves reverently before and 
 after their simple meal, and chatting until the red 
 glow of sunset in the north flickers up to the zenith 
 in waves of sea-green, lilac, and amber, and de- 
 scends again in the north, at the pearl pink of 
 dawn. Sleep is a lost art with these men, as with 
 all classes of people, during those nerve-destroying 
 "white nights." When all the silvery satin of the 
 birch logs has been removed from their capacious 
 holds, these primitive barks will be unpegged, and 
 the cheap " bark-wood," riddled with holes as by a 
 mitrailleuse, will be used for poor structures on the 
 outskirts of the town. 
 
 On the upper shore of this river, second only to 
 the Neva in its perennial fascination, and facing on 
 the Prospe'kt, stands the Anitchkoff Palace, on the 
 site of a former lumber-yard, which was purchased 
 by the Empress Elizabeth, when she commissioned 
 her favorite architect, Rastrelli, to erect for Count 
 Razumovsky a palace in that rococo style which he 
 used in so many palaces and churches during her 
 reign and that of Katherine II., the rococo style 
 being, by the way, quite the most unsuited discover- 
 able for Russian churches. 
 
 Count Alexe*i Grigorevitch Razum6vsky was the 
 Empress Elizabeth's husband, the uneducated but 
 handsome son of a plain Kazak from Little Russia, 
 
32 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 who attracted the attention of Elizaveta Petrovna as 
 his sweet voice rang out in the imperial choir, at 
 mass, in her palace church. When the palace was 
 completed, in 1757, it did not differ materially from 
 its present appearance, as a painting in the Winter 
 Palace shows, except that its colonnade, now in- 
 closed for the Imperial Chancellery and offices, then 
 abutted directly on the Fontanka. It has had a 
 very varied ownership, with some curious features 
 in that connection which remind one of a gigantic 
 game of ball between Katherine II. and Prince Po- 
 te*mkin. Count Razumovsky did not live in it until 
 after the Empress Elizabeth's death, in 1762. After 
 his own death, his brother sold it to the state, and 
 Katherine II. presented it to Prince Potemkin, who 
 promptly resold it to a wealthy merchant-contractor 
 in the commissariat department of the army, who in 
 turn sold it to Katherine II., who gave it once more 
 to Potemkin. The prince never lived here, but gave 
 sumptuous garden parties in the vast park, which is 
 now in great part built over, and sold it back to the 
 state again in 1794. It was first occupied by royalty 
 in 1809, when the Emperor Alexander I. settled his 
 sister here, with her first husband, that Prince of 
 Oldenburg whose territory in Germany Napoleon I. 
 so summarily annexed a few years later, thereby 
 converting the Oldenburgs permanently into Russian 
 princes. 
 
 The Grand Duke Heir Nicholas used it from 1819 
 until he ascended the throne, in 1825, and since that 
 time it has been considered the palace of the heir to 
 the throne. But the present Emperor has continued 
 to occupy it since his accession, preferring its sim- 
 plicity to the magnificence of the Winter Palace. 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 33 
 
 The high walls, of that reddish-yellow hue, like 
 the palace itself, which is usually devoted to govern- 
 ment buildings in Russia, continue the line of offices 
 along the Prospekt, and surround wooded gardens, 
 where the Emperor and his family coast, skate, and 
 enjoy their winter pleasures, invisible to the eyes of 
 passers-by. 
 
 These woods and walls also form the eastern 
 boundary of the Alexandra Square, in whose centre 
 rises Mike*shin and Opekiishin's fine colossal bronze 
 statue of Katherine II., crowned, sceptred, in impe- 
 rial robes, and with the men who made her reign 
 illustrious grouped about her feet. Among these 
 representatives of the army, navy, literature, science, 
 art, there is one woman, that dashing Princess 
 Elizaveta Rom&novna Dashkoff, who helped Kath- 
 erine to her throne. As Empress, Katherine ap- 
 pointed her to be first president of the newly 
 founded Academy of Sciences, but afterward with- 
 drew her favor, and condemned her to both polite 
 and impolite exile, because of her services, the 
 princess hints, in her celebrated and very lively 
 " Memoirs." 
 
 In the Alexandra Theatre, for Russian and Ger- 
 man drama, which rears its new (1828) Corinthian 
 peristyle and its bronze quadriga behind the great 
 Empress, forming the background of the Square, 
 two of the Empress's dramas still hold the stage, on 
 occasion. For this busy and energetic woman not 
 only edited and published a newspaper, the greater 
 part of which she wrote with her own hand, but com- 
 posed numerous comedies and comic operas, where 
 the moral, though sufficiently obvious all the way 
 through, one would have thought, in the good old 
 
34 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 style is neatly labeled at the end. These were 
 acted first in the priva.te theatres of the various pal- 
 aces, by the dames and cavaliers of the Court, after 
 which professional actors presented them to the pub- 
 lic in the ordinary theatres. 
 
 It is in vain that we scrutinize the chubby-cheeked 
 countenance of the bronze Prince Pote*mkin, at Kath- 
 erine II. 's feet, to discover the secret of the charm 
 which made the imperial lady who towers above him 
 force upon him so often the ground upon which they 
 both now stand. He stares stolidly at the Prospekt, 
 ignoring not only the' Theatre, but the vast struc- 
 tures containing the Direction of Theatres and Pris- 
 ons, the Censor's Office, Theatrical School, and other 
 government offices in the background; the new 
 building for shops and apartments, where ancient 
 Russian forms have been adapted to modern street 
 purposes ; and even the wonderfully rich Imperial 
 Public Library, begun in 1794, to contain the books 
 brought from Warsaw, with its Corinthian peristyle 
 interspersed with bronze statues of ancient sages, on 
 the garden side, all of which stand upon the scene 
 of his former garden parties, as the name of the 
 avenue beyond the plain end of the Library on the 
 Prospe'kt Great Garden Street reminds us. Not 
 far away is the site of the tunnel dug under the 
 Prospe'kt by the revolutionists, which, however, was 
 fortunately discovered in time to prevent the de- 
 struction of one of the fairest parts of the city, and 
 its most valuable buildings. With the next block 
 we enter upon the liveliest, the most characteristic 
 portion of the N6vsky Prospe'kt, in that scant frac- 
 tion over a mile which is left to us above the Anitch- 
 koff Bridge, 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 35 
 
 Here stands the vast bazaar known as the G-os- 
 tinny Dvor, "Guests' Court," a name which 
 dates from the epoch when a wealthy merchant en- 
 gaged in foreign trade, and owning his own ships, 
 was distinguished from the lesser sort by the title 
 of " Guest," which we find in the ancient epic songs 
 of Russia. Its frontage of seven hundred feet on the 
 Prospe'kt, and one thousand and fifty on Great Gar- 
 den and the next parallel street, prepare us to be- 
 lieve that it may really contain more than five hun- 
 dred shops in the two stories, the lower surrounded 
 by a vaulted arcade supporting an open gallery, 
 which is invaluable for decorative purposes at Easter 
 and on imperial festival days. Erected in 1735, very 
 much in its present shape, the one common through- 
 out the country, on what had been an impassable 
 morass a short time before, and where the ground 
 still quakes at dawn, it may not contain the largest 
 and best shops in town, and its merchants certainly 
 are not " guests " in the ancient acceptation of the 
 word ; but we may claim, nevertheless, that it pre- 
 sents a compendium of most purchasable articles 
 extant, from samovdri, furs, and military goods, to 
 books, sacred images, and Moscow imitations of Pa- 
 risian novelties at remarkably low prices, as well as 
 the originals. 
 
 The nooks and spaces of the arcade, especially at 
 the corners and centre, are occupied by booths of 
 cheap wares. The sacred image, indispensable to a 
 Russian shop, is painted on the vaulted ceiling; the 
 'shrine lamp flickers in the open air, thus serving 
 many aproned, homespun and sheepskin clad dealers. 
 The throng of promenaders here is always varied 
 and interesting. The practiced eye distinguishes in- 
 
36 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 finite shades of difference in wealth, social standing, 
 and other conditions. The lady in the velvet shtiba, 
 lined with sable or black fox, her soft velvet cap 
 edged with costly otter, her head wrapped in a fleecy 
 knitted shawl of goat's-down from the steppes of 
 Orenburg, or pointed hood the bashlyk of woven 
 goat's-down from the Caucasus, has driven hither in 
 her sledge or carriage, and has alighted to gratify 
 the curiosity of her sons. We know at a glance 
 whether the lads belong in the aristocratic Pages' 
 Corps, on Great Garden Street, hard by, in the Uni- 
 versity, the Law School, the Lyceum, or the Gym- 
 nasium, and we can make a shrewd guess at their 
 future professions by their faces as well as by their 
 uniforms. The lady who comes to meet us in sleeved 
 pelisse, wadded with eider-down, and the one in a 
 short jacket have arrived, and must return, on foot ; 
 they could not drive far in the open air, so thinly 
 clad. 
 
 At Christmas-tide there is a great augmentation 
 in the queer " Vyazemsky " and other cakes, the peas- 
 ant laces, sweet Vyborg cracknels, fruit pastils, and 
 other popular goods, on which these petty open-air 
 dealers appear to thrive, both in health and purse. 
 The spacious area between the bazaar and the side- 
 walk of the Nevsky is filled with Christmas-trees, 
 beautifully unadorned, or ruined with misplaced 
 gaudiness, brought in, in the majority of cases, by 
 Finns from the surrounding country. Again, in the 
 week preceding Palm Sunday, the Verlnaya Ydr- 
 marka, or Pussy Willow Fair, takes place here. 
 Nominally, it is held for the purpose of providing the 
 public with twigs of that aesthetic plant (the only 
 one which shows a vestige of life at that season), 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 37 
 
 winch are used as palms, from the Emperor's palace 
 to the poorest church in the land. In reality, it is a 
 most amusing fair for toys and cheap goods suitable 
 for Easter eggs ; gay paper roses, wherewith to adorn 
 the Easter cake ; and that combination of sour and 
 sweet cream and other forbidden delicacies, the pds- 
 kha, with which the long, severe fast is to be broken, 
 after midnight matins on Easter. Here are plump 
 little red Finland parrots, green and red finches, and 
 other song-birds, which kindly people buy and set 
 free, after a pretty custom. The board and canvas 
 booths, the sites for which are drawn by lot by sol- 
 diers' widows, and sold or used as suits their con- 
 venience, are locked at night by dropping the canvas 
 flap, and are never guarded ; while the hint that 
 thefts may be committed, or that watching is neces- 
 sary, is repelled with indignation by the stall-keepers. 
 
 There is always a popular toy of the hour. One 
 year it consisted of highly colored, beautifully made 
 bottle-imps, which were loudly cried as Amerikdn- 
 skiya zhiteli, inhabitants of America. We inquired 
 the reason for their name. 
 
 " They are made in the exact image of the Amer- 
 icans," explained the peasant vendor, offering a pale 
 blue imp, with a long, red tongue and a phenomenal 
 tail, for our admiration. 
 
 44 We are inhabitants of America. Is the likeness 
 very strong ? " we asked. 
 
 The crowd tittered softly ; the man looked fright- 
 ened ; but finding that no dire fate threatened, he 
 was soon vociferating again, with a roguish grin : 
 
 " Kupiti, kupi-i-iti ! Prevoskhtidniya AmSrikan- 
 skiya zhiteli ! Sd-d-miya nastoydshtschiya ! " Buy, 
 buy, splendid natives of America ! the most genuine 
 sort! 
 
38 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 Far behind this Gostinny Dvor extends a complex 
 mass of other curious " courts " and markets, all 
 worthy of a visit for the popular types which they 
 afford of the lower classes. Among them all none 
 is more steadily and diversely interesting, at all sea- 
 sons of the year, than the Syenndya Pldshtschad, 
 the Haymarket, so called from its use in days long 
 gone by. Here, in the Fish Market, is the great re- 
 pository for the frozen food which is so necessary in 
 a land where the church exacts a sum total of over 
 four months' fasting out of the twelve. Here the 
 fish lie piled like cordwood, or overflow from casks, 
 for economical buyers. Merchants' wives, with heads 
 enveloped in colored kerchiefs, in the olden style, 
 well tucked in at the neck of their saltipi, or sleeved 
 fur coats, prowl in search of bargains. Here sit the 
 fishermen from the distant Murman coast, from Ark- 
 hangel, with weather-beaten but intelligent faces, in 
 their quaint skull-caps of reindeer hide, and baggy, 
 shapeless garments of mysterious skins, presiding over 
 the wares which they have risked their lives to catch 
 in the stormy Arctic seas, during the long days of 
 the brief summer-time ; codfish dried and curled into 
 gray unrecognizableness ; yellow caviar which resists 
 the teeth like tiny balls of gutta-percha, not the 
 delicious gray " pearl " caviar of the sturgeon, and 
 other marine food which is never seen on the rich 
 man's table. 
 
 But we must return to the Nevsky Prospekt. 
 Nestling at the foot of the City Hall, at the entrance 
 of the broad street between it and the Gostinny Dvor, 
 on the Nevsky, stands a tiny chapel, which is as 
 thriving as the bazaar, in its own way, and as strik- 
 ing a compendium of some features in Russian archi- 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 39 
 
 tecture and life. Outside hangs a large image of the 
 " Saviour-not-made-with-hands," the Russian name 
 for the sacred imprint on St. Veronica's handkerchief, 
 which is the most popular of all the representa- 
 tions of Christ in ikdni. Before it burns the usual 
 " unquenchable lamp," filled with the obligatory pure 
 olive-oil. Beneath it stands a table bearing a large 
 bowl of consecrated water. On hot summer days the 
 thirsty wayfarer takes a sip, using the ancient Rus- 
 sian kovsh, or short-handled ladle, which lies beside 
 it, crosses himself, and drops a small offering on the 
 dish piled with copper coins near by, making change 
 for himself if he has not the exact sum which he 
 wishes to give. 
 
 Inside, many ik6ni decorate the walls. The pale 
 flames of their shrine-lamps are supplemented by 
 masses of candles in the huge standing candlesticks of 
 silver. A black-robed monk from the monastery is 
 engaged, almost without cessation, in intoning prayers 
 of various sorts, before one or another of the images. 
 The little chapel is thronged ; there is barely room 
 for respectfully flourished crosses, such, as the peasant 
 loves, often only for the more circumscribed sign cur- 
 rent among the upper classes, and none at all for the 
 favorite " ground reverences." The approach to the 
 door is lined with two files of monks and nuns : monks 
 in high Tdobliki, like rimless chimney-pot hats, draped 
 with black woolen veils, which are always becoming ; 
 tchernitzi, or lay sisters, from distant convents, in 
 similar headgear, in caps flat or pointed like the 
 small end of a watermelon, and with ears protected 
 by black woolen shawls ungracefully pinned. Ser- 
 viceable man's boots do more than peep out from 
 beneath the short, rusty-black skirts. Each monk 
 
40 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 and nun holds a small pad of threadbare black velvet, 
 whereon a cross of tarnished gold braid, and a stray 
 copper or two, by way of bait, explain the eleemosy- 
 nary significance of the bearers' " broad " crosses, 
 dizzy " reverences to the girdle," and muttered en- 
 treaty, of which we catch only : " Khristi Rddi " 
 For Christ's sake. 
 
 People of all classes turn in here for a moment 
 of prayer, to " place a candle " to some saint, for 
 the health, in body or soul, of friend or relative : the 
 workman, his tools on his back in a coarse linen 
 kit; the bearded muzhik from the country, clad in 
 his sheepskin tulup, wool inward, the soiled yellow 
 leather outside set off by a gay sash ; ladies, officers, 
 civilians, the stream never ceases. 
 
 The only striking feature about the next building 
 of importance, the Gradskdya Duma, or City Hall, 
 is the lofty tower, upon whose balcony, high in air, 
 guards pace incessantly, on the watch for fires. By 
 day they telegraph the locality of disaster to the fire 
 department by means of black balls and white boards, 
 in fixed combinations ; by night, with colored lan- 
 terns. Each section of the city has a signal-tower 
 of this sort, and the engine-house is close at hand. 
 Gradskdya Duma means, literally, city thought, and 
 the profundity of the meditations sometimes in- 
 dulged in in this building, otherwise not remarkable, 
 may be inferred from the fact discovered a few years 
 ago, that many honored members of the Duma 
 (which also signifies the Council of City Fathers), 
 whose names still stood on the roll, were dead, though 
 they continued to vote and exercise their other civic 
 functions with exemplary regularity ! 
 
 Naturally, in a city which lies on a level with the 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 41 
 
 southern point of Greenland, the most characteristic 
 season to select for our observations of the life is 
 winter. 
 
 The Prosplkt wakes late. It has been up nearly 
 all night, and there is but little inducement to early 
 rising when the sun itself sets such a fashion as nine 
 o'clock for its appearance on the horizon, like a pew- 
 ter disk, with a well-defined hard rim, when he makes 
 his appearance at all. If we take the Prospe*kt at 
 different hours, we may gain a fairly comprehensive 
 view of many Russian ways and people, cosmopoli- 
 tan as the city is. 
 
 At half-past seven in the morning, the horse-cars, 
 which have been resting since ten o'clock in the even- 
 ing, make a start, running always in groups of three, 
 stopping only at turnouts. The dvtirniki retire from 
 the entrance to the courtyards, where they have been 
 sleeping all night with one eye open, wrapped in their 
 sheepskin coats. A few shabby izvtistchiks make their 
 appearance somewhat later, in company with small 
 schoolboys, in their soldierly uniforms, knapsacks of 
 books on back, and convoyed by servants. Earliest 
 of all are the closed carriages of officials, evidently 
 the most lofty in grade, since it was decided, two or 
 three years ago, by one of this class, that his subordi- 
 nates could not reasonably be expected to arrive at 
 business before ten or eleven o'clock after they had 
 sat up until daylight over their indispensable club 
 vintp which is Russian whist. 
 
 ^QOis,^muzhiki) in scarlet cotton blouses, and full 
 trousers of black velveteen, tucked into tall wrinkled 
 boots, dart about to bakery and dairy shop, preparing 
 for their masters' morning " tea." Venders of news- 
 papers congregate at certain spots, and charge for 
 
42 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 their wares in inverse ratio to the experience of their 
 customers; for regular subscribers receive their pa- 
 pers through the post-office, and, if we are in such 
 unseemly haste as to care for the news before the ten 
 o'clock delivery or the eleven o'clock, if the post- 
 man has not found it convenient otherwise we must 
 buy on the street, though we live but half a block 
 from the newspaper office, which opens at ten. By 
 noon, every one is awake. The restaurants are full 
 of breakfasters, and Dominique's, which chances to 
 stand on the most crowded stretch of the street, on 
 the sunny north side beloved of promenaders, is 
 dense with officers, cigarette smoke, and character- 
 istic national viands judiciously mingled with those 
 of foreign lands. 
 
 Mass is over, and a funeral passes down the N6vsky 
 Prospekt, on its way to the fashionable Alexander 
 Nevsky monastery or Novo-Dyevitche convent ceme- 
 teries. The deceased may have been a minister of 
 state, or a great officer of the Court, or a military 
 man who is accompanied by warlike pageant. The 
 choir chants a dirge. The priests, clad in vestments 
 of black velvet and silver, seem to find their long 
 thick hair sufficient protection to their bare heads. 
 The professional mutes, with their silver-trimmed 
 black baldrics and cocked hats, appear to have 
 plucked up the street lanterns by their roots to serve 
 as candles, out of respect to the deceased's greatness, 
 and to illustrate how the city has been cast into dark- 
 ness by the withdrawal of the light of his counte- 
 nance. The dead man's orders and decorations are 
 borne in imposing state, on velvet cushions, before 
 the gorgeous funeral car, where the pall, of cloth of 
 gold, which will be made into a priest's vestment 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 43 
 
 once the funeral is over, droops low among artistic 
 wreaths ami palms, of natural flowers, or beautifully 
 executed in silver. Behind come the mourners on 
 foot, a few women, many men, a Grand Duke or two 
 among them, it may be ; the carriages follow ; the 
 devout of the lower classes, catching sight of the 
 train, cross themselves broadly, mutter a prayer, and 
 find time to turn from their own affairs and follow 
 for a little way, out of respect to the stranger corpse. 
 More touching are the funerals which pass up the 
 Prospekt on their way to the unfashionable cemetery 
 across the Neva, on Vasily Ostroff ; a tiny pink coffin 
 resting on the knees of the bereaved parents in a 
 sledge, or borne by a couple of bareheaded men, with 
 one or two mourners walking slowly behind. 
 
 From noon onward, the scene on the Prospekt in- 
 creases constantly in vivacity. The sidewalks are 
 crowded, especially on Sundays and holidays, with a 
 dense and varied throng, of so many nationalities and 
 types that it is a valuable lesson in ethnography 
 to sort them, and that a secret uttered is absolutely 
 safe in no tongue, unless, possibly, it be that of 
 Patagonia. But the universal language of the eye 
 conquers all difficulties, even for the remarkably fair 
 Tatar women, whose national garb includes only the 
 baldest and gauziest apology for the obligatory veil. 
 
 The plain faQades of the older buildings on this 
 part of the Prospekt, which are but three or four 
 stories in height, elevators are rare luxuries in Pe- 
 tersburg, and few buildings exceed five stories, are 
 adorned, here and there, with gayly-colored pictorial 
 representations of the wares for sale within. But 
 little variety in architecture is furnished by the in- 
 conspicuous Armenian, and the uncharacteristic Dutch 
 
44 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 Reformed and Lutheran churches which break the 
 severe line of this " Tolerance Street," as it has been 
 called. Most fascinating of all the shops are those of 
 the furriers and goldsmiths, with their surprises and 
 fresh lessons for foreigners ; the treasures of Cauca- 
 sian and Asian art in the Eastern bazaars ; the " Co- 
 lonial wares " establishments, with their delicious 
 game cheeses, and odd studend (fishes in jelly), their 
 pineapples at five and ten dollars, their tiny oysters 
 from the Black Sea at twelve and a half cents apiece. 
 
 Enthralling as are the shop windows, the crowd 
 on the sidewalk is more enthralling still. There are 
 Kazaks, dragoons, cadets of the military schools, stu- 
 dents, so varied, though their gay uniforms are hid- 
 den by their coats, that their heads resemble a bed 
 of verbenas in the sun. There are officers of every 
 sort: officers with rough gray overcoats and round 
 lambskin caps ; officers in large, flat, peaked caps, and 
 smooth-surfaced voluminous cape-coats, wadded with 
 eider-down and lined with gray silk, which trail on 
 their spurs, and with collars of costly beaver or striped 
 American raccoon, and long sleeves forever dangling 
 unused. A snippet of orange and black ribbon worn 
 in the buttonhole shows us that the wearer belongs 
 to the much-coveted military Order of St. George. 
 There are civilians in black cape-coats of the military 
 pattern, topped off with cold, uncomfortable, but 
 fashionable chimneypot hats, or, more sensibly, with 
 high caps of beaver. 
 
 It is curious to observe how many opinions exist 
 as to the weather. The officers leave their ears un- 
 protected ; a passing troop of soldiers fine, large, 
 hardy fellows wear the strip of black woolen over 
 their ears, but leave their lashlyks hanging unused 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 45 
 
 on their backs, with tabs tucked neatly under shoul- 
 der-straps and belts, for use on the Balkans or some 
 other really cold spot. Most of the ladies, on foot 
 or in sledges, wear bashlyks or Orenburg shawls, over 
 wadded fur caps, well pulled down to the brows. We 
 may be sure that the pretty woman who trusts to her 
 bonnet only has also neglected to put on the neces- 
 sary warm galoshes, and that when she reaches home, 
 sympathizing friends will rub her vain little ears, feet, 
 and brow with spirits of wine, to rescue her from the 
 results of her folly. Only officers and soldiers pos- 
 sess the secret of going about in simple leather boots, 
 or protected merely by a pair of stiff, slapping leather 
 galoshes, accommodated to the spurs. 
 
 For some mysterious reason, the picturesque nurses, 
 with their pearl - embroidered, diadem-shaped caps, 
 like the kokdshniki of the Empress and Court ladies, 
 their silver-trimmed petticoats and jackets patterned 
 after the ancient Russian " soul-warmers," and made 
 of pink or blue cashmere, never have any children in 
 their charge in winter. Indeed, if we were to go by 
 the evidence offered by the Nevsky Prospe'kt, espe- 
 cially in cold weather, we should assert that there are 
 no children in the city, and that the nurses are used 
 as " sheep-dogs " by ladies long past the dangerous 
 bloom of youth and beauty. 
 
 The more fashionable people are driving, however, 
 and that portion of the one hundred and fourteen 
 feet of the Prospekt's width which is devoted to the 
 roadway is, if possible, even more varied and enter- 
 taining in its kaleidoscopic features than the side- 
 walks. It is admirably kept at all seasons. With 
 the exception of the cobblestone roadbed for the 
 tramway in the centre, it is laid with hexagonal 
 
46 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 wooden blocks, well spiked together and tarred, rest- 
 ing upon tarred beams and planks, and forming a 
 pavement which is both elastic and fairly resistant to 
 the volcanic action of the frost. The snow is main- 
 tained at such a level that, while sledging is perfect, 
 the closed carriages which are used for evening enter- 
 tainments, calls, and shopping are never incommoded. 
 Street sweepers, in red cotton blouses and clean white 
 linen aprons, sweep on calmly in the icy chill. The 
 police, with their lasJilyks wrapped round their heads 
 in a manner peculiar to themselves, stand always in 
 the middle of the street and regulate the traffic. 
 
 We will hire an izvtistchik and join the throng. The 
 process is simple ; it consists in setting ourselves up 
 at auction on the curbstone, among the numerous 
 cabbies waiting for a job, and knocking ourselves 
 down to the lowest bidder. If our Vanka (Johnny, 
 the generic name for cabby) drives too slowly, obvi- 
 ously with the object of loitering away our money, 
 a policeman will give him a hint to whip up, or we 
 may effect the desired result by threatening to speak 
 to the next guardian of the peace. If Vanka attempts 
 to intrude upon the privileges of the private car- 
 riages, for whom is reserved the space next the tram- 
 way track and the row of high, silvered posts which 
 bear aloft the electric lights, a sharp " Beregis ! " 
 (Look out for yourself !) will be heard from the first 
 fashionable coachman who is impeded in his swift 
 career, and he will be called to order promptly by the 
 police. Ladies may not, unfortunately, drive in the 
 smartest of the public carriages, but must content 
 themselves with something more modest and more 
 shabby. But Vanka is usually good-natured, patient, 
 and quite unconscious of his shabbiness, at least in 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 47 
 
 the liglit of a grievance or as affecting his dignity. 
 It was one of these shabby, but democratic and self- 
 possessed fellows who furnished us with a fine illus- 
 tration of the peasant qualities. We encountered 
 one of the Emperor's cousins on his way to his regi- 
 mental barracks; the Grand Duke mistook us for 
 acquaintances, and saluted. Our izvtistchik returned 
 the greeting. 
 
 "Was that Vasily Dmitrich ? " we asked in Rus- 
 sian form. 
 
 " Yes, madam." 
 
 " Whom was he saluting ? " 
 
 " Us," replied the man, with imperturbable gravity. 
 
 Very different from our poor fellow, who remem- 
 bers his duties to the saints and churches, and salutes 
 Kazan Cathedral, as we pass, with cross and bared 
 head, is the fashionable coachman, who sees nothing 
 but his horses. Our man's cylindrical cap of imita- 
 tion fur is old, his summer armydk of blue cloth fits, 
 as best it may, over his lean form and his sheepskin 
 tulup, and is girt with a cheap cotton sash. 
 
 The head of the fashionable coachman is crowned 
 with a becoming gold-laced cap, in the shape of the 
 ace of diamonds, well stuffed with down, and made 
 of scarlet, sky-blue, sea-green, or other hue of velvet. 
 His fur-lined armyak, reaching to his feet, through 
 whose silver buttons under the left arm he is burst- 
 ing, with pads for fashion or with good living, is 
 secured about his. portly waist by a silken girdle glow- 
 ing with roses and butterflies. His legs are too fat 
 to enter the sledge, that is to say, if his master 
 truly respects his own dignity, and his feet are ac- 
 commodated in iron stirrups outside. He leans well 
 back, with arms outstretched to accord with the racing 
 
48 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 speed at which he drives. In the tiny sledge the 
 smaller it is, the more stylish, in inverse ratio to the 
 coachman, who is expected to be as broad as it is 
 sits a lady hugging her crimson velvet shuba lined 
 with curled white Thibetan goat, or feathery black 
 fox fur, close about her ears. An officer holds her 
 firmly with one arm around the waist, a very neces- 
 sary precaution at all seasons, with the fast driving, 
 where drozhkies and sledges are utterly devoid of 
 back or side rail. The spans of huge Orloff stallions, 
 black or dappled gray, display their full beauty of 
 form in the harnesses of slender straps and silver 
 chains ; their beautiful eyes are unconcealed by 
 blinders. They are covered with a coarse-meshed 
 woolen net fastened to the winged dashboard, black, 
 crimson, purple, or blue, which trails in the snow in 
 company with their tails and the heavy tassels of the 
 fur-edged cloth robe. The horses, the wide-spread- 
 ing reddish beard of the coachman, parted in the 
 middle like a well-worn whisk broom, the hair, eye- 
 lashes, and furs of the occupants of the sledge, all 
 are frosted with rime until each filament seems to 
 have been turned into silver wire. 
 
 There is an alarm of fire somewhere. A section 
 of the fire department passes, that imposing but 
 amusing procession of hand-engine, three water-bar- 
 rels, pennons, and fine horses trained in the haute 
 Scole^ which does splendid work with apparently in- 
 adequate means. An officer in gray lambskin cap 
 flashes by, drawn by a pair of fine trotters. " Vot on 
 sam!" mutters our izvtistchik, There he is him- 
 self ! It is General Gresser, 1 the prefect of the 
 
 1 Since the above was written, this able officer and very efficient 
 prefect has died. 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 49 
 
 capital, who maintains perfect order, and demon- 
 strates the possibilities of keeping streets always 
 clean in an impossible climate. The pounding of 
 those huge trotters' hoofs is so absolutely distinctive 
 as distinctive as the unique gray cap that we 
 can recognize it as they pass, cry like the izvostchik, 
 " Vbt on sam ! " and fly to the window with the cer- 
 tainty that it will be " he himself." 
 
 Court carriages with lackeys in crimson and gold, 
 ambassadors' sledges with cock-plumed chasseurs and 
 cockaded coachmen, the latter wearing their chevrons 
 on their backs ; rude wooden sledges, whose sides are 
 made of knotted ropes, filled with superfluous snow ; 
 grand ducal trtf'ikas with clinking harnesses studded 
 with metal plaques and flying tassels, the outer horses 
 coquetting, as usual, beside the staid trot of the shaft- 
 horse, all mingle in the endless procession which 
 flows on up the Nevsky Prospe'kt through the Bolshaya 
 Morskaya, Great Sea Street, and out upon the 
 Neva quays, and back again, to see and be seen, until 
 long after the sun has set on the short days, at six 
 minutes to three. A plain sledge approaches. The 
 officer who occupies it is dressed like an ordinary 
 general, and there are thousands of generals ! As he 
 drives quietly along, police and sentries give him the 
 salute of the ordinary general ; so do those who rec- 
 ognize him by his face or his Kazak orderly. It is 
 the Emperor out for his afternoon exercise. If we 
 meet him near the gate of the Amtchkoff Palace, 
 we may find him sitting placidly beside us, while 
 our sledge and other sledges in the line are stopped 
 for a moment to allow him to enter. 
 
 Here is another sledge, also differing in no respect 
 from the equipages of other people, save that the 
 
50 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 lackey on the low knife-board behind wears a pe- 
 culiar livery of dark green, pale blue, and gold (or 
 with white in place of the green at Easter-tide). 
 The lady whose large dark eyes are visible between 
 her sable cap and the superb black fox shawl of her 
 crimson velvet cloak is the Empress. The lady be- 
 side her is one of her ladies-in-waiting. Attendants, 
 guards, are absolutely lacking, as in the case of the 
 Emperor. 
 
 Here, indeed, is the place to enjoy winter. The 
 dry, feathery snow descends, but no one heeds it. 
 We turn up our coat collars and drive on. Umbrel- 
 las are unknown abominations. The permanent mar- 
 quises, of light iron-work, which are attached to most 
 of the entrances, are serviceable only to those who 
 use closed carriages, and in the rainy autumn. 
 
 Just opposite the centre of this thronged prome- 
 nade, well set back from the street, stands the Cathe- 
 dral of the Kazan Virgin. Outside, on the quay of 
 the tortuous Katherine Canal, made a navigable 
 water-way under the second Katherine, but lacking, 
 through its narrowness, the picturesque features of 
 the Fontanka, flocks of pigeons are fed daily from 
 the adjoining grain shops. In the curve of the great 
 colonnade, copied, like the exterior of the church it- 
 self, from that of St. Peter at Rome, bronze statues, 
 heroic in size, of generals Kutuzoff and Barclay de 
 Tolly, by the Russian sculptor Orlovsky, stand on 
 guard. 
 
 Hither the Emperor and Empress come u to salute 
 the Virgin," on their safe return from a journey. 
 Hither are brought imperial brides in gorgeous state 
 procession when they are of the Greek faith 
 on their way to the altar in the Winter Palace. 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 51 
 
 We can never step into this temple without finding 
 some deeply interesting and characteristically Rus- 
 sian event in progress. After we have run the in- 
 evitable gauntlet of monks, nuns, and other beggars 
 at the entrance, we may happen upon a baptism, 
 just beyond, the naked, new-born infant sputtering 
 gently after his thrice-repeated dip in the candle- 
 decked font, with the priest's hand covering his eyes, 
 ears, mouth, and nostrils, and now undergoing the 
 ceremony of anointment or confirmation. Or we 
 may come upon a bridal couple, in front of the solid 
 silver balustrade ; or the exquisite liturgy, exqui- 
 sitely chanted by the fine choir in their vestments 
 of scarlet, blue, and silver, with the seraphic wings 
 upon their shoulders, and intoned, with a finish of 
 art unknown in other lands, by priests robed in rich 
 brocade. Or it may be that a popular sermon by a 
 well-known orator has attracted a throng of listeners 
 among the lofty pillars of gray Finland granite, 
 hung with battle-flags and the keys of conquered 
 towns. What we shall assuredly find is votaries as- 
 cending the steps to salute with devotion the be- 
 nignant brown-faced Byzantine Virgin and Christ- 
 Child, incrusted with superb jewels, or kneeling in 
 " ground reverences," with brow laid to the marble 
 pavement, before the ikonostds, or rood-screen, of 
 solid silver. Our Lady of Kazan has been the most 
 popular of wonder-working Virgins ever since she 
 was brought from Kazan to Moscow, in 1579, and 
 transported to Petersburg, in 1721 (although her 
 present cathedral dates only from 1811), and the 
 scene here on Easter-night is second only to that at 
 St. Isaac's when the porticoes are thronged by the 
 lower classes waiting to have their flower and candle 
 
52 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 decked cakes and cream blessed at the close of the 
 Easter matins. 
 
 One of the few individual dwelling-houses which 
 linger on the Nevsky Prospe'kt, and which presents 
 us with a fine specimen of the rococo style which 
 Rastrelli so persistently served up at the close of the 
 eighteenth century, is that of the Counts Stroganoff, 
 at the lower quay of the Moika. The Moika (liter- 
 ally, Washing) River is the last of the semicircular, 
 concentric canals which intersect the Nevsky and its 
 two radiating companion Prospe'kts, and impart to 
 that portion of the city which is situated on the (com- 
 parative) mainland a resemblance to an outspread 
 fan, whose palm-piece is formed by the Admiralty 
 on the Nev4 quay. 
 
 The stately pile, and the pompous air of the big, 
 gold-laced Swiss lounging at the entrance on the 
 Nevsky, remind us that the Str6ganoff family has 
 been a power in Russian history since the middle of 
 the sixteenth century. 
 
 It was a mere handful of their Kazdks, led by Yer- 
 m&k Timofe'evitch, who conquered Siberia, in 1581, 
 under Ivan the Terrible, while engaged in repelling 
 the incursions of the Tatars and wild Siberian tribes 
 on the fortified towns which the Str6ganoffs had been 
 authorized to erect on the vast territory at the west- 
 ern foot of the Ural Mountains, conveyed to them by 
 the ancient Tzars. Later on, when Alexei Mikhail- 
 ovitch, the father of Peter the Great, established a 
 new code, grading punishments and fines by classes, 
 the highest money tax assessed for insult and injury 
 was fifty rubles; but the Stroganoffs were empowered 
 to exact one hundred rubles. 
 
 Opposite the Str6ganoff house, on the upper 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 53 
 
 Moika quay, rises the large, reddish-yellow Club of 
 the Nobility, representing still another fashion in 
 architecture, which was very popular during the 
 last century for palaces and grand mansions, the 
 Corinthian peristyle upon a solid, lofty basement. 
 It is not an old building, but was probably copied 
 from the palace of the Empress Elizabeth, which 
 stood on this spot. Elizaveta Petrovna, though she 
 used this palace a great deal, had a habit of sleep- 
 ing in a different place each night, the precise spot 
 being never known beforehand. This practice is at- 
 tributed, by some Russian historians, to her custom 
 of turning night into day. She went to the theatre, 
 for example, at eleven o'clock, and any courtier who 
 failed to attend her was fined fifty rubles. It was 
 here that the populace assembled to hurrah for Eli- 
 zavdta Petrovna, on December 6, 1741, when she 
 returned with little Ivan VI. in her arms from the 
 Winter Palace, where she had made captive his 
 father and his mother, the regent Anna Leopoldina. 
 It may have been the recollection of the ease with 
 which she had surprised indolent Anna Leopoldina 
 in her bed-chamber which caused her to be so uncer- 
 tain in her own movements, in view of the fact that 
 there were persons so ill-advised as to wish the 
 restoration of the slothful German regent and her in- 
 fant son, disastrous as that would have been to the 
 country. 
 
 We must do the Russians who occupy the build- 
 ing at the present day the justice to state that they 
 uphold religiously the nocturnal tradition thus es- 
 tablished by Elizaveta Petrovna, and even improve 
 upon it. From six o'clock in the evening onward, 
 the long windows of the club, on the lei gtage^ blaze 
 
54 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 with light. The occasional temporary obscurations 
 produced by the steam from relays of samovdri do 
 not interfere materially with the neighbors' view of 
 the card-parties and the final exchange of big bun- 
 dles of bank-bills, which takes place at five o'clock 
 or later the next morning. Even if players and bills 
 were duly shielded from observation, the mauvais 
 quart d'heure would be accurately revealed by the 
 sudden rush for the sledges, which have been hang- 
 ing in a swarm about the door, according to the usual 
 convenient custom of Vanka, wherever lighted win- 
 dows suggest possible patrons. Poor, hard-worked 
 Vanka slumbers all night on his box, with one eye 
 open, or falls prone in death-like exhaustion over the 
 dashboard upon his sleeping horse, while his cap 
 lies on the snow, and his shaggy head is bared to the 
 bitter blasts. 
 
 Later on, the chief of police lived here, and the 
 adjoining bridge, which had hitherto been known as 
 the Green Bridge, had its name changed to the 
 Police Bridge, which rather puzzling appellation it 
 still bears. 
 
 A couple of blocks beyond this corner of the Ne*v- 
 sky, the M6ika and the Grand Morskaya, the Nevsky 
 Prospe*kt ends at the Alexander Garden, backed by 
 the Admiralty and the Nev4, after having passed in 
 its course through all grades of society, from the 
 monks at the extreme limit, peasant huts, or some- 
 thing very like them, on the outskirts, artistic and 
 literary circles in the Pe*ski quarter (the Sands), 
 well-to-do merchants and nobles, officials and wealthy 
 courtiers, until now we have reached the culminat- 
 ing point, where the Admiralty, Imperial Palace, 
 and War Office complete the national group begun 
 at the church. 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 55 
 
 When, in 1704, Peter the Great founded his be- 
 loved Admiralty, as the first building on the main- 
 land then designed for such purposes as this, and not 
 for residence, it was simply a shipyard, open to the 
 Neva, and inclosed on three sides by low wooden 
 structures, surrounded by stone-faced earthworks, 
 moats, and palisades. Hither Peter was wont to 
 come of a morning, after having routed his ministers 
 out of bed to hold privy council at three and four 
 o'clock, to superintend the work and to lend a hand 
 himself. The first stone buildings were erected in 
 1726, after his death. In the early years of the 
 present century, Alexander I. rebuilt this stately and 
 graceful edifice, after the plans of the Russian archi- 
 tect Zakharoff, who created the beautiful tower 
 adorned with Russian sculptures, crowned by a 
 golden spire, in the centre of the immense faQade, 
 fourteen hundred feet long, which forms a feature 
 inseparable from the vista of the Prospekt for the 
 greater part of its length, to the turn at the Zna- 
 menskaya Square. On this spire, at the present 
 day, flags and lanterns warn the inhabitants of low- 
 lying districts in the capital of the rate at which the 
 water is rising during inundations. In case of serious 
 danger, the flags are reinforced by signal guns from 
 the fortress. But in Peter I.'s day, these flags and 
 guns bore exactly the opposite meaning to the un- 
 happy nobles whom the energetic Emperor was try- 
 ing to train into rough-weather sailors. To their 
 trembling imaginations these signal orders to assem- 
 ble for a practice sail signified, " Come out and be 
 drowned! " since they were obliged to embark in the 
 crafts too generously given to them by Peter, and 
 cruise about until their leader (who delighted in a 
 
56 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 storm) saw fit to return. There is a story of one 
 unhappy wight, who was honored by the presence 
 aboard his craft of a very distinguished and very sea- 
 sick Persian, making his first acquaintance with the 
 pleasures of yachting, and who spent three days 
 without food, tacking between Petersburg and 
 Kronstadt, in the vain endeavor to effect a landing 
 during rough weather. 
 
 When the present Admiralty was built, a broad 
 and shady boulevard was organized on the site of the 
 old glacis and covered way, and later still, when the 
 break in the quay was filled in, and the shipbuilding 
 transferred to the New Admiralty a little farther 
 down the river, the boulevard was enlarged into the 
 New Alexander Garden, one of the finest squares in 
 Europe. It soon became the fashionable promenade, 
 and the centre of popular life as well, by virtue of 
 the merry-makings which took place. Here, during 
 the Carnival of 1836, the temporary cheap theatre of 
 boards was burned, at the cost of one hundred and 
 twenty-six lives and many injured persons, which re- 
 sulted in these dangerous balagdni and other holiday 
 amusements being removed to the spacious parade- 
 ground known as the Empress's Meadow. 
 
 If we pass round the Admiralty to the Nevd, we 
 shall find its frozen surface teeming with life. Sledge 
 roads have been laid out on it, marked with evergreen 
 bushes, over which a yamtschik will drive us with his 
 tr6'ika fleet as the wind, to Kronsr&dt, twenty miles 
 away. Plank walks, fringed with street lanterns, 
 have been prepared for pedestrians. Broad ice paths 
 have been cleared, whereon the winter ferry-boats 
 ply, green garden-chairs, holding one or more per- 
 sons, furnished with warm lap-robes, and propelled 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 57 
 
 by stout muzhiks on skates, who will transport ua 
 from shore to shore for the absurdly small sum of less 
 than a cent apiece, though a ride with the reindeer 
 (now a strange sight in the capital), at the Lapland- 
 ers' encampment, costs much more. 
 
 It is hard to tear ourselves from the charms of the 
 river, with its fishing, ice-cutting, and many other 
 interesting sights always in progress. But of all 
 the scenes, that which we may witness on Epiphany 
 Day the " Jordan," or Blessing of the Waters, in 
 commemoration of Christ's baptism in the Jordan 
 is the most curious and typically Russian. 
 
 After mass, celebrated by the Metropolitan, in the 
 cathedral of the Winter Palace, whose enormous red- 
 dish-ochre mass we perceive rising above the frost- 
 jeweled trees of the Alexander Garden, to our right 
 as we stand at the head of the Nevsky Prospekt, the 
 Emperor, his heir, his brothers, uncles, and other 
 great personages emerge in procession upon the quay. 
 Opposite the Jordan door of the palace a scarlet, gold, 
 and blue pavilion, also called the " Jordan," has been 
 erected over the ice. Thither the procession moves, 
 headed by the Metropolitan and the richly vestured 
 clergy, their mitres gleaming with gems, bearing 
 crosses and church banners, and the imperial choir, 
 clad in crimson and gold, chanting as they go. The 
 Empress and her ladies, clad in full Court costume at 
 midday, look on from the palace windows. After 
 brief prayers in the pavilion, all standing with bared 
 heads, the Metropolitan dips the great gold cross in 
 the rushing waters of the Nevd, through a hole pre- 
 pared in the thick, opalescent, green ice, and the guns 
 on the opposite shore thunder out a salute. The pon- 
 toon Palace Bridge, the quays on both sides of the 
 
58 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 river, all the streets and squares for a long distance 
 round about, are densely thronged ; and, as the guns 
 announce the consecration, every head is bared, every 
 right hand in the mass, thousands strong, is raised 
 to execute repeated signs of the cross on brow and 
 breast. 
 
 From our post at the head of the Prospe*kt we 
 behold not the ceremony itself but the framework 
 of a great national picture, the great Palace Square, 
 whereon twenty thousand troops can manoauvre, and 
 in whose centre rises the greatest monolith of mod- 
 ern times, the shaft of red Finland granite, eighty- 
 four feet in height, crowned with a cross-bearing 
 angel, the monument to Alexander I. There stand 
 the Guards' Corps, and the huge building of the Gen- 
 eral Staff, containing the Ministries of Finance and 
 of Foreign Affairs, and many things besides, origi- 
 nally erected by Katherine II. to mask the rears of 
 the houses at the end of the NeVsky, and rebuilt under 
 Nicholas L, sweeping in a magnificent semicircle op- 
 posite the Winter Palace. Regiments restrain the 
 zeal of the crowd to obtain the few posts of vantage 
 from which the consecration of the waters is visible, 
 and keep open a lane for the carriages of royalty, 
 diplomats, and invited guests. They form part of 
 the pageant, like the Empress's cream-colored car- 
 riage and the white horses and scarlet liveries of the 
 Metropolitan. The crowd is devout arid silent, as 
 Russian crowds always are, except when they see the 
 Emperor after he has escaped a danger, when they 
 become vociferous with an animation which is far 
 more significant than it is in more noisy lands. The 
 ceremony over, the throngs melt away rapidly and 
 silently ; pedestrians, Finnish ice-sledges, traffic in 
 
THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 59 
 
 general, resume their rights on the palace sidewalks 
 ami the square, and after a state breakfast the Em- 
 peror drives quietly home, unguarded, to his Anitch- 
 koff Palace. 
 
 If we glance to our left, and slightly to our rear, 
 as we stand thus facing the Nev4 and the Admiralty, 
 we see the Prefecture and the Ministry of War, the 
 latter once the mansion of a grandee in the last cen- 
 tury ; and, rising above the latter, we catch a glimpse 
 of the upper gallery, and great gold-plated, un-Rus- 
 sian dome, of St. Isaac's Cathedral, which is visible 
 for twenty miles down the Gulf of Finland. The 
 granite pillars glow in the frosty air with the bloom 
 of a Delaware grape. We forgive St. Isaac for the 
 non-Russian character of the modern ecclesiastical 
 glories of which it is the exponent, as we listen 
 eagerly to the soft, rich, boom-boo m-bo-o-om of the 
 great bourdon, embroidered with silver melody by 
 the multitude of smaller bells chiming nearly all day 
 long with a truly orthodox sweetness unknown to the 
 Western world, and which, to-day, are more elabo- 
 rately beautiful than usual, in honor of the great fes- 
 tival. We appreciate to the full the wailing cry of 
 the prisoner, in the ancient epic songs of the land : 
 " He was cut off from the light of the fair, red sun, 
 from the sound of sweet church-bells." 
 
 On the great Palace Square another characteristic 
 sight is to be seen on the nights of Court balls, which 
 follow the Jordan, when the blaze of electric light 
 from the rock-crystal chandeliers, big as haystacks, 
 within the state apartments, is supplemented by the 
 fires in the heater and on the snow outside, round 
 which the waiting coachmen warm themselves, with 
 Rembrandtesque effects of chiaro-oscuro second only to 
 
60 THE NEVSKY PROSPEKT. 
 
 the picturesqueness of dvdrniki in their nondescript 
 caps and shaggy coats, who cluster round blazing 
 fagots in less aristocratic quarters when the thermom- 
 eter descends below zero. 
 
 When spring comes with the magical suddenness 
 which characterizes Northern lands, the gardens, 
 quays, and the Ne*vsky Prospe'kt still preserve their 
 charms for a space, and are thronged far into the 
 night with promenaders, who gaze at the imperial 
 crowns, stars, monograms, and other devices tempo- 
 rarily applied to the street lanterns, and the fairy 
 flames on the low curb-posts (whereat no horse, 
 though unblinded, ever shies), with which man at- 
 tempts, on the numerous royal festival days of early 
 summer, to rival the illumination of the indescribably 
 beautiful tints of river and sky. But the peasant- 
 izvostchik goes off to the country to till his little patch 
 of land, aided by the shaggy little farm-horse, which 
 has been consorting on the Prospe'kt with thorough- 
 bred trotters all winter, and helping him to eke out 
 his cash income, scanty at the best of times ; or he 
 emigrates to a summer resort, scorning our insinua- 
 tion that he is so unfashionable as to remain in town. 
 The deserted Prospe'kt is torn up for repairs. The 
 merchants, especially the goldsmiths, complain that 
 it would be true economy for them to close their 
 shops. The annual troops of foreign travelers arrive, 
 view the lovely islands of the Nev4 delta, catch a 
 glimpse of the summer cities in the vicinity, and 
 dream, ah, vain dream ! that they have also really 
 beheld the Ne*vsky Prospe'kt, the great avenue of the 
 realm of the Frost King and the White Tzar ! 1 
 
 1 From Scribner's Magazine, by permission. 
 
III. 
 
 MY EXPERIENCE WITH THE RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 IN spite of the advantage which I enjoyed in a 
 preliminary knowledge of the Russian language and 
 literature, I was imbued with various false ideas, the 
 origin of which it is not necessary to trace on this 
 occasion. I freed myself from some of them ; among 
 others, from my theory as to the working of the 
 censorship in the case of foreign literature. My 
 theory was the one commonly held by Americans, 
 and, as I found to my surprise, by not a few Rus- 
 sians, viz., that books and periodicals which have 
 been wholly or in part condemned by the censor are 
 to be procured only in a mutilated condition, or by 
 surreptitious means, or not at all. That this is not 
 the case I acquired ample proof through my personal 
 experience. 
 
 The first thing that an American does on his ar- 
 rival in St. Petersburg is to scan the foreign news- 
 papers in the hotels eagerly for traces of the censor's 
 blot, le masque noir, "caviare," - his idea being 
 that at least one half of the page will be thus veiled 
 from sight. But specimens are not always, or even 
 very often, to be procured with ease. In fact, the 
 demand exceeds the supply sometimes, if I may judge 
 from my own observations and from the pressing 
 applications for these curiosities which I received 
 from disappointed seekers. The finest of these black 
 
62 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 diamonds may generally be found in the inventive 
 news columns of the London dailies and in the flip- 
 pant paragraphs of " Punch." 
 
 Like the rest of the world, I was on the lookout 
 for the censor's work from the day of my arrival, but 
 it was a long time before my search was rewarded 
 by anything except a caricature of the censor him- 
 self in " Kladderadatsch." That it was left unmasked 
 was my first proof that that gentleman, individually 
 and collectively, was not deficient in a sense of hu- 
 mor. The sketch represented a disheveled scribe 
 seated three quarters submerged in a bottle of ink, 
 from the half-open cover of which his quill pen pro- 
 jected like a signal of distress. This was accom- 
 panied by an inscription to the effect that as the 
 Russian censor had blacked so many other people, he 
 might now sit in the black for a while himself. Per- 
 haps the censor thought that remarks of that sort 
 came with peculiar grace from martinet-ruled Berlin. 
 About this time I received a copy of the " Century," 
 containing or rather, not containing the first 
 article in the prohibited series by Mr. Kennan. I 
 made no remonstrance, but mentioned the fact, as an 
 item of interest, to the sender, who forthwith dis- 
 patched the article in an envelope. The envelope 
 being small, the plump package had the appearance 
 of containing a couple of pairs of gloves, or other 
 dutiable merchandise. Probably that was the reason 
 why the authorities cut open one end. Finding that 
 it was merely innocent printed matter, they gave it 
 to me on the very day of its arrival in St. Petersburg, 
 and thirteen days from the date of posting in New 
 York. I know that it was my duty to get excited 
 over this incident, as did a foreign (that is, a non- 
 
EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 63 
 
 Russian) acquaintance of mine, when be received an 
 envelope of similar plump aspect containing a bulky 
 Christmas card, which was delivered decorated with 
 five very frank and huge official seals, after having 
 been opened for contraband goods. I did not feel 
 aggrieved, however, and, being deficient in that Mo- 
 ther Eve quality which attributes vast importance to 
 whatever is forbidden, I suggested that nothing more 
 which was obnoxious to the Russian government 
 should be sent to me. 
 
 But when a foreigner offered the magazine to me 
 regularly, unmutilated, I did not refuse it. When a 
 Russian volunteered to furnish me with it, later on, 
 I read it. When I saw summaries of the prohibited 
 articles in the Russian press, I looked them over to 
 see whether they were well done. When I saw an- 
 other copy of the " Century," with other American 
 magazines, at the house of a second Russian, I did 
 not shut my eyes to the fact, neither did I close my 
 ears when I was told that divers instructors of youth 
 in Petersburg, Moscow, and elsewhere were in regu- 
 lar receipt of it, on the principle which is said to 
 govern good men away from home, viz., that in order 
 to preach effectively against evil one must make per- 
 sonal acquaintance w r ith it. I was also told at the 
 English Bookstore that they had seven or eight 
 copies of the magazine, which had been subscribed 
 for through them, lying at the censor's office await- 
 ing proper action on the part of the subscribers. 
 What that action was I did not ask at the time, in 
 my embarrassment of riches. It will be perceived 
 that when we add the copies received by officials, and 
 those given to the members of the Diplomatic Corps 
 who desired it, there was no real dearth of the " Cen- 
 tury " at any time. 
 
64 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 About this time, also, I had occasion to hunt up a 
 package of miscellaneous newspapers, which had lin- 
 gered as such parcels are apt to linger in all post- 
 offices. In pursuance of my preconceived notions, I 
 jumped to the conclusion that the censor had them, 
 regardless of the contingency that they might have 
 been lost out of Russia. I called to ask for the 
 papers. The official whom I found explained, with 
 native Russian courtesy, that I had come to the 
 wrong place, that office being devoted to foreign 
 matter in book form ; but that, in all probability, 
 the papers had become separated from their wrapper 
 in the newspaper department (which was heedless) 
 when they had been opened for examination, and 
 hence it had been impossible to deliver them. Still, 
 they might have been detained for some good reason, 
 and he would endeavor to find some record of them. 
 
 While he was gone, my eyes fell upon his account- 
 book, which lay open before me. It constituted a 
 sort of literary book-keeping. The entries showed 
 what books had been received, what had been for- 
 bidden, what was to be erased, whose property had 
 been manipulated, and, most interesting of all, which 
 forbidden books had been issued by permission, and 
 to whom. Among these I read the titles of works 
 by Stepniak, and of various works on Nihilism, all 
 of which must certainly have come within the cate- 
 gory of utterly proscribed literature, and not of that 
 which is promptly forwarded to its address after a 
 more or less liberal sprinkling of " caviare." As I 
 am not in the habit of reading private records on the 
 sly, even when thus tempted, I informed the official 
 on his return of my action, and asked a question or 
 two. 
 
EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 65 
 
 " Do you really let people have these forbidden 
 books?" " Certainly," was his half-surprised, half- 
 indignant reply. " And what can one have ? " " Any- 
 thing," said he, " only we must, of course, have some 
 knowledge of the person. What would you like ? " 
 
 I could only express my regret that I felt no crav- 
 ing for any prohibited literature at that moment, but 
 I told him that I would endeavor to cultivate a taste 
 in that direction to oblige him ; and I suggested 
 that, as his knowledge of me was confined to the 
 last ten minutes, I did not quite understand how he 
 could pass judgment as to what mental and moral 
 food was suited to my constitution, and as to the use 
 I might make of it. He laughed amiably, and said : 
 u Nitchevti, that 's all right ; you may have what- 
 ever you please." I never had occasion to avail my- 
 self of the offer, but I know that Russians who are- 
 well posted do so, although I also know that many 
 Russians are not aware of their privileges in this 
 direction. It is customary to require from Russians 
 who receive literature of this sort a promise that 
 they will let no other person see it, an engage- 
 ment which is as religiously observed as might be 
 expected, as the authorities are doubtless aware. 
 
 I did not pursue my search for the missing papers. 
 I had allowed so much time to elapse that I per- 
 ceived the uselessness of further action ; they were 
 evidently lost, and it mattered little as to the manner. 
 Shortly afterwards I received the first of my only 
 two specimens of censorial " caviare." It was on a 
 political cartoon in a New York comic paper. I sent 
 it back to America for identification of the picture, 
 and it was lost between New York and Boston ; 
 which reconciled me to the possible carelessness of 
 
66 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 the Russian post-office in the case of the newspapers 
 just cited. 
 
 My next experience was with Count Lyeff N. Tol- 
 st<5y's work entitled " Life." This was not allowed 
 to be printed in book form, although nearly the 
 whole of it subsequently appeared in installments, as 
 " extracts," in a weekly journal. I received the man- 
 uscript as a registered mail packet. The author was 
 anxious that my translation should be submitted in 
 the proof-sheets to a philosophical friend of his in 
 Petersburg, who read English, in order that the latter 
 might see if I had caught the sense of the somewhat 
 abstract and complicated propositions. It became a 
 problem how those proof-sheets were to reach me 
 safely and promptly. The problem was solved by 
 having them directed outright to the censor's office, 
 whence they were delivered to me ; and, as there 
 proved to be nothing to alter, they speedily returned 
 to America as a registered parcel. My own opinion 
 now is that they would not have reached me a whit 
 less safely or promptly had they been addressed 
 straight to me. The bound volumes of my transla- 
 tion were so addressed later on, and I do not think 
 that they were even opened at the office, the law to 
 the contrary notwithstanding. 
 
 All this time I had been receiving a New York 
 weekly paper with very little delay and no mutila- 
 tion. But at this juncture an amiable friend sub- 
 scribed in my name for the " Century," and I deter- 
 mined to make a personal trial of the workings of 
 the censorship in as strong a case as I could have 
 found had I deliberately desired to invent a test case. 
 I may as well remark here that " the censor " is 
 not the hard- worked, omnivorous reader of moun- 
 
EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 67 
 
 tains of print and manuscript which the words rep- 
 resent to the mind of the ordinary foreigner. The 
 work of auditing literature, so to speak, is subdi- 
 vided among such a host of men that office hours 
 are brief, much of the foreign reading, at least, is 
 done at home, and the lucky members of the com- 
 mittee keep themselves agreeably posted upon mat- 
 ters in general while enjoying the fruits of office. 
 
 The censor's waiting-room was well patronized on 
 my arrival. An official who was holding a consul- 
 tation with one of the visitors inquired my business. 
 I stated it briefly, and shortly afterwards he retired 
 into an adjoining room, which formed the begin- 
 ning of a vista of apartments and officials. While I 
 waited, a couple of men were attended to so near me 
 that I heard their business. It consisted in obtaining 
 official permission to print the bills and programmes 
 of a musical and variety entertainment. To this 
 end they had brought not only the list of performers 
 and proposed selections, but also the pictures for 
 advertisement, and the music which was to be given. 
 As the rare traveler who can read Russian is already 
 aware, the programme of every public performance 
 bears the printed authorization of the censor, as a 
 matter of course, quite as much as does a book. It 
 is an easy way of controlling the character of assem- 
 blages, the value of which can hardly be disputed 
 even by those prejudiced persons who insist upon 
 seeing in this Russian proceeding something more 
 arbitrary than the ordinary city license which is re- 
 quired for performances elsewhere, or the Lord Cham- 
 berlain's license which is required in England. In 
 Russia, as elsewhere, an ounce of prevention is worth 
 fully a pound of cure. This, by the way, is the only 
 
68 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 form in which a foreigner is likely to come in con- 
 tact with the domestic censure in Russia, unless he 
 should wish to insert an advertisement in a news- 
 paper, or issue printed invitations to a gathering at 
 his house, or send news telegrams. In these cases he 
 may be obliged to submit to delay in the appearance 
 of his advertisement, or requested to go to the ele- 
 gance and expense of engraved invitations, or to de- 
 tain his telegram for a day or two. Such things are 
 not unknown in Germany. 
 
 Just as these gentlemen had paid their fee, and re- 
 signed their documents to the official who had charge 
 of their case, another official issued from the inner 
 room, approached me, requested me to sign my name 
 in a huge ledger, and, that being done, thrust into 
 my hands a bulky manuscript and departed. The 
 manuscript had a taking title, but I did not pause 
 to examine it. Penetrating the inner sanctum, I 
 brought out the official and endeavored to return 
 the packet. He refused to take it, it was legally 
 mine. This contest lasted for several minutes, until 
 I saw a literary-looking man enter from the ante- 
 room and look rather wildly at us. Evidently this 
 was the owner, and, elevating the manuscript, I in- 
 quired if it were his. He hastened to my assistance 
 and proved his rights. But as erasures do not look 
 well in account-books, and as my name already occu- 
 pied the space allotted to that particular parcel, he 
 was not requested to sign for it, and I believe that I 
 am still legally qualified to read, perform, or publish 
 whatever it was that talented production. 
 
 A dapper little gentleman, with a dry, authorita- 
 tive air, then emerged and assumed charge of me. I 
 explained my desire to receive, uncensured, a journal 
 which was prohibited. 
 
EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 69 
 
 " Certainly," said be, without inquiring how I 
 knew the facts. " Just write down your application 
 and sign it." 
 
 " I don't know the form," I answered. 
 
 He seemed surprised at my ignorance of such an 
 every-day detail, but fetched paper and dictated a 
 petition, which I wrote down and signed. When we 
 reached the point where the name of the publication 
 was to be inserted, he paused to ask : " How many 
 would you like ? " 
 
 " How many copies of the ' Century ' ? Only one," 
 said I. 
 
 " No, no ; how many periodical publications 
 would you like ? " 
 
 " How many can I have on this petition ? " I re- 
 torted in Yankee fashion. 
 
 " As many as you please. Do you want four 
 six eight ? Write in the names legibly." 
 
 I gasped, but told him that I was not grasping ; I 
 preferred to devote my time to Russian publications 
 while in Russia, and that I would only add the name 
 of the weekly which I was already receiving, merely 
 with the object of expediting its delivery a little. 
 The document was then furnished with the regula- 
 tion eighty-kopek stamp (worth at that time about 
 thirty-seven cents), and the business was concluded. 
 As I was in summer quarters out of town, and it was 
 not convenient for me to call in person and inquire 
 whether permission had been granted, another stamp 
 was added to insure the answer being sent to me. 
 The license arrived in a few days, and the magazine 
 began to come promptly, unopened. I was not even 
 asked not to show it to other people. I may state 
 here that, while I never circulated any of the numer- 
 
70 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 ous prohibited books and manuscripts which came into 
 my possession during my stay in Russia, I never con- 
 cealed them. I showed the " Century " occasionally 
 to personal friends of the class who could have had 
 it themselves had they taken any permanent interest 
 in the matter ; but it is certain that they kept their 
 own counsel and mine in all respects. 
 
 Everything proceeded satisfactorily until I went 
 to Moscow to stay for a time. It did not occur to 
 me to inform the censor of my move, and the result 
 was that the first number of the magazine which I 
 received there was as fine a " specimen " as heart 
 could desire. The line on the title-page which re- 
 ferred to the obnoxious article had been scratched 
 out ; the body of the article had been cut out ; the 
 small concluding portion at the top of a page had 
 been artistically " caviared." Of course, the article 
 ending upon the back of the first page extracted had 
 been spoiled. On this occasion I was angry, not at 
 the mutilation as such, but at the breach of faith. 
 I sat down, while my wrath was still hot, and indited 
 a letter to the head censor in Petersburg. I do not 
 recollect the exact terms of that letter, but I know I 
 told him that he had no right to cut the book after 
 granting me leave to receive it intact, without first 
 sending me word that he had changed his mind, and 
 giving valid reasons therefor ; that the course he had 
 adopted was injudicious in the extreme, since it was 
 calculated to arouse curiosity instead of allaying it, 
 and that it would be much better policy to ignore the 
 matter. I concluded by requesting him to restore 
 the missing article, if he had preserved it, and if 
 he had not, to send at once to London (that being 
 nearer than New York) and order me a fresh copy 
 of the magazine at his expense. 
 
EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 71 
 
 A month elapsed, no answer came ; but at the end 
 of the month another mutilated " Century " arrived. 
 This time I waited two or three days in the hope of 
 inventing an epistle which should be more forcible 
 - if such a thing were possible than my last, and 
 yet calm. The letter was half written when an offi- 
 cial envelope made its appearance from Petersburg, 
 containing cut pages and an apologetic explanation 
 to the effect that the Moscow censor, through an 
 oversight, had not been duly instructed in his duty 
 toward me. A single glance showed me that the 
 inclosed sheets belonged to the number just received, 
 not to the preceding number. I drove immediately 
 to the Moscow office and demanded the censor. 
 " You can tell me what you want with him," said the 
 ante-room Cerberus. " Send me the censor," said 
 I. After further repetition, he retired and sent in a 
 man who requested me to state my business. " You 
 are not the censor," I said, after a glance at him. 
 " Send him out, or I will go to him." Then they de- 
 cided that I was a connoisseur in censors, and the 
 proper official made his appearance, accompanied by 
 an interpreter, on the strength of the foreign name 
 upon my card. .Convinced that the latter would not 
 understand English well, like many Russians who 
 can talk the language fluently enough, I declined his 
 services, produced my documents from the Peters- 
 burg censor, and demanded restitution of the other 
 confiscated article. I obtained it, being allowed my 
 pick from a neatly labeled package of contraband 
 goods. That scratched, cut, caviared magazine is 
 now in my possession, with the restored sheets and 
 the censor's apology appended. It is my proof to 
 unbelievers that the Russian censor is not so black 
 as he is painted. 
 
72 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 As we shook hands with this Moscow official, after 
 a friendly chat, I asked him if he would be a little 
 obtuse arithmetically as to the old and new style of 
 reckoning, and let me have my January " Century " 
 if it arrived before my departure for Petersburg, as 
 my license expired January 1. He smilingly agreed 
 to do so. I also called on the Moscow book censor, 
 to find some books. The courtesy and readiness to 
 oblige me on the part of the officials had been so 
 great, that I felt aggrieved upon this occasion when 
 this censor requested me to return on the regular 
 business day, and declined to overhaul his whole de- 
 partment for me on the spot. I did return on the 
 proper day, and watched operations while due search 
 was being made for my missing property. It reached 
 me a few days later, unopened, the delay having 
 occurred at my banker's, not in the post-office or 
 censor's department. 
 
 On my return to Petersburg, my first visit was to 
 the censor's office, where I copied my original peti- 
 tion, signed it, and dismissed the matter from my 
 mind until my February " Century " reached me 
 with one article missing and two articles spoiled. I 
 paid another visit to the office, and was informed 
 that my petition for a renewal of permission had not 
 been granted. 
 
 " Why did n't you send me word earlier ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 " We were not bound to do so without the extra 
 stamp," replied my dapper official. 
 
 " But why has my application been refused ? " 
 
 " Too many people are seeing that journal ; some 
 one must be refused." 
 
 " Nonsense," said I. " And if it is really so, I am 
 
EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 73 
 
 not the proper person to be rejected. It will hurt 
 some of these Russian subscribers more than it will 
 me, because it is only a question of when I shall read 
 it, not of whether I shall read it at all. I wonder 
 that so many demoralizing things do not affect the 
 officials. However, that is not the point ; pray keep 
 for your own use anything which you regard as dele- 
 terious to me. I am obliged to you for your consid- 
 eration. But you have no right to spoil three or four 
 articles ; and by a proper use of scissors and caviare 
 that can easily be avoided. In any case, it will be 
 much better to give me the book unmutilated." 
 
 The official and the occupants of the reception- 
 room seemed to find my view very humorous ; but 
 he declared that he had no power in the matter. 
 
 44 Very well," said I, taking a seat. " I will see 
 the censor. 
 
 44 1 am the censor," he replied. 
 
 44 Oh, no. I happen to be aware that the head 
 censor is expected in a few minutes, and I will 
 wait." 
 
 My (apparently) intimate knowledge of the ways 
 of censors again won the day. The chief actually 
 was expected, and I was granted the first audience. 
 I explained matters and repeated my arguments. He 
 sent for the assistant. 
 
 44 Why was not this application granted ? " he asked 
 impressively. 
 
 44 We don't know, your Excellency," was the meek 
 and not very consistent reply. 
 
 44 You may go," said his Excellency. Then he 
 turned graciously to me. 44 You will receive it." 
 
 "Uncut?" 
 
 44 Yes." 
 
74 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 " But will they let me have it ? " 
 
 " Will they let you have it when - 
 I say so?" he retorted with tremendous dignity. 
 
 Then I knew that I should have no further trouble, 
 and I was right. I received no written permission, 
 but the magazine was never interfered with again. 
 Thus it will be seen that one practically registers 
 periodicals wholesale, at a wonderfully favorable dis- 
 count. 
 
 During the whole of my stay in Kussia I received 
 many books unread, apparently even unopened to see 
 whether they belonged on the free list. In one case, 
 at least, volumes which were posted before the offi- 
 cial date of publication reached me by the next city 
 delivery after the letter announcing their dispatch. 
 Books which were addressed to me at the Lega- 
 tion, to assure delivery when my exact address was 
 unknown or when my movements were uncertain, 
 were, in every case but one, sent to me direct from 
 the post-office. I have no reason to suppose that I 
 was unusually favored in any way. I used no " influ- 
 ence," I mentioned no influential names, though I 
 had the right to do so. 
 
 An incident which procured for me the pleasure of 
 an interview with the chief censor for newspapers 
 and so forth will illustrate some of the erroneous 
 ideas entertained by strangers. I desired to send to 
 some friends in Russia a year's subscription each of 
 a certain American magazine, which sometimes justly 
 receives a sprinkling of caviare for its folly, but 
 which is not on the black list, and is fairly well 
 known in Petersburg. After some delay I heard 
 from home that the publishers had consulted the 
 United States postal officials, and had been informed 
 
EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 75 
 
 that " no periodical literature could be sent to Rus- 
 sia, this being strictly prohibited." I took the letter 
 to the newspaper censor, who found it amusingly 
 and amazingly stupid. He explained that the only 
 thing which is absolutely prohibited is Russian text 
 printed outside of Russia, which would never be de- 
 livered. He did not explain the reason, but I knew 
 that he referred to the socialistic, nihilistic, and other 
 proscribed works which are published in Geneva or 
 Leipzig. Daily foreign newspapers can be received 
 regularly only by persons who are duly authorized. 
 Permission cannot be granted to receive occasional 
 packages of miscellaneous contents, the reason for 
 this regulation being very clear. And all books must 
 be examined if new, or treated according to the place 
 assigned them on the lists if they have already had a 
 verdict pronounced upon them. I may add, in this 
 connection, that I had the magazines I wished sub- 
 scribed for under another name, to avoid the indeli- 
 cacy of contradicting my fellow-countrymen. They 
 were then forwarded direct to the Russian addresses, 
 where they were duly and regularly received. Whe- 
 ther they were mutilated, I do not know. They cer- 
 tainly need not have been, had the recipients taken 
 the trouble to obtain permission as I did, if they were 
 aware of the possibility. It is probable that I could 
 have obtained permission for them, had I not been 
 pressed for time. 
 
 I once asked a member of the censorship commit- 
 tee on foreign books on what principle of selection 
 he proceeded. He said that disrespect to the Em- 
 peror and the Greek Church was officially prohib- 
 ited ; that he admitted everything which did not err 
 too grossly in that direction, and, in fact, everything 
 
76 EXPERIENCE WITH RUSSIAN CENSOR. 
 
 except French novels of the modern realistic school. 
 He drew the line at these, as pernicious to both men 
 and women. He asked me if I had read a certain 
 new book which was on the proscribed list. I said 
 that I had, and in the course of the discussion which 
 ensued, I rose to fetch the volume in question from 
 the table behind him to verify a passage. (This oc- 
 curred during a friendly call.) I recollected, how- 
 ever, that that copy had not entered the country by 
 post, and that, consequently, the name of the owner 
 therein inscribed would not be found on the list of au- 
 thorized readers any more than my own. I am sure, 
 however, that nothing would have happened if he had 
 seen it, and he must have understood my movement. 
 My business dealings were wholly with strangers. 
 
 It seems to be necessary, although it ought not to 
 be so, to remind American readers that Russia is not 
 the only land where the censorship exists, to a greater 
 or less extent. Even in the United States, which is 
 popularly regarded as the land of unlicensed license 
 in a literary sense, even in the Boston Public Li- 
 brary, which is admitted to be a model of good sense 
 and wide liberality, all books are not bought or 
 issued indiscriminately to all readers, irrespective of 
 age and so forth. The necessity for making special 
 application may, in some cases, whet curiosity, but it 
 also, undoubtedly, acts as a check upon unhealthy 
 tastes, even when the book may be publicly pur- 
 chased. I have heard Russians who did not wholly 
 agree with their own censorship assert, nevertheless, 
 that a strict censure was better than the total absence 
 of it, apparently, in America, the utterances of whose 
 press are regarded by foreigners in general as de- 
 cidedly startling. 1 
 
 1 From The Nation. 
 
IV. 
 
 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 IN Russia one is expected to bargain and haggle 
 over the price of everything, beginning with hotel ac- 
 commodations, no matter how obtrusively large may 
 be the type of the sign " Prix Fixe" or how strenu- 
 ous may be the assertions that the bottom, price is 
 that first named. If one's nerves be too weak to 
 play at this game of continental poker, he will proba- 
 bly share our fate, of which we were politely apprised 
 by a word at our departure from a hotel where we 
 had lived for three months - after due bargaining 
 at their price. " If you come back, you may have the 
 corresponding apartments on the floor below [the bel 
 etage~\ for the same price." In view of the fact that 
 there was no elevator, it will be perceived that we 
 had been paying from one third to one half too much, 
 which was reassuring as to the prospect for the future, 
 when we should decide to return ! 
 
 If there be a detestable relic of barbarism, it is 
 this custom of bargaining over every breath one 
 draws in life. It creates a sort of incessant internal 
 seething, which is very wearing to the temper and 
 destructive of pleasure in traveling. One feels that 
 he must chaffer desperately in the dark, or pay the 
 sum demanded and be regarded as a goose fit for fur- 
 ther plucking. So he forces himself to chaffer, tries 
 to conceal his abhorrence of the practice and his in- 
 
78 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 experience, and ends, generally, by being cheated and 
 considered a grass-green idiot into the bargain, which 
 is not soothing to the spirit of the average man. 
 When I mention it in this connection I do not mean 
 to be understood as confining my remarks exclusively 
 to Russia ; the opportunities for being shorn to the 
 quick are unsurpassed all over the continent, and 
 "one price " America's house is too vitreous to per- 
 mit of her throwing many stones at foreign lands. 
 Only, in America, the custom is now happily so obso- 
 lete in the ordinary transactions of daily life that one 
 is astonished when he hears, occasionally, a woman 
 from the country ask a clerk in a city shop, " Is that 
 the least you '11 take ? I '11 give you so much for 
 these goods." In Russia, the surprise would be on 
 the other side. 
 
 The next time I had occasion to hire quarters in a 
 hotel for a sojourn of any length I resorted to strat- 
 agem, by way of giving myself an object lesson. I 
 looked at the rooms, haggled them down, on principle, 
 to what seemed to me really the very lowest notch 
 of price ; I was utterly worn out before this was 
 accomplished. I even flattered myself that I had 
 done nearly as well as a native could have done, and 
 was satisfied. But I sternly carried out my experi- 
 ment. I did not close the bargain. I asked Princess 
 to try her experienced hand. Result, she se- 
 cured the best accommodations in the house for less 
 than half the rate at which I had been so proud of 
 obtaining inferior quarters ! When we moved in, 
 the landlord was surprised, but he grasped the point 
 of the transaction, and seemed to regard it as a pleas- 
 ant jest against him, and to respect us the more for 
 having outwitted him. The Princess apologized for 
 
BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 79 
 
 having made such bad terms for us, and meant it ! 
 I suspect that that was a very fair sample of the 
 comparative terms obtained by natives and outsiders 
 in all bargains. 
 
 It is one of those things at which one smiles or 
 fumes, according to the force of the instinct for jus- 
 tice with which he has been blessed or cursed 
 by nature. Nothing, unless it be a healthy, athletic 
 conscience, is so wofully destructive of all happi- 
 ness and comfort in this life as a keen sense of 
 justice ! 
 
 There are, it is true, persons in Russia who scorn 
 to bargain as much as did the girl of the merchant 
 class in one of Ostrovsky's famous comedies, who 
 was so generous as to blush with shame for the peo- 
 ple whom she heard trying to beat down exorbitant 
 prices in the shops, or whom she saw taking their 
 change. The merchant's motto is, "A thing is 
 worth all that can be got for it." Consequently, it 
 never occurs to him that even competition is a reason 
 for being rational. One striking case of this in my 
 own experience was provided by a hardware mer- 
 chant, in whose shop I sought a spirit lamp. The 
 lamps he showed me were not of the sort I wished, 
 and the price struck me as exorbitant, although I 
 was not informed as to that particular subject. I 
 offered these suggestions to the fat merchant in a 
 mild manner, and added that I would look elsewhere 
 before deciding upon his wares. 
 
 " You will find none elsewhere," roared the mer- 
 chant previously soft spoken as the proverbial 
 sucking dove through his bushy beard, in a voice 
 which would have done credit to the proto-deacon of 
 a cathedral. " And not one kopek will I abate of 
 
80 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 my just price, yay Bogu! [God is my witness!] 
 They cost me that sum ; I am actually making you 
 a present of them out of my profound respect for 
 you, suddrynya ! [He had called me Madame be- 
 fore that, but now he lowered my social rank to that 
 of a merchant's wife, out of revenge.] And you will 
 be pleased not to come back if you don't find a lamp 
 to suit your peculiar taste, for I will not sell to you. 
 I won't have people coming here and looking at 
 things and then not buying ! " 
 
 It was obviously my turn to retort, but I let the 
 merchant have the last word temporarily. In ten 
 minutes another shopkeeper offered me lamps of iden- 
 tical quality and pattern at one half his price, and I 
 purchased one, such as I wished, of a different design 
 for a small sum extra. I may have been cheated, 
 but, under the circumstances, I was satisfied. 
 
 Will it be believed ? Bushybeard was lying in wait 
 for me at the door, ready to receive me, wreathed in 
 smiles which I can describe only by the detestable 
 adjective "affable," as I took pains to pass his estab- 
 lishment on my way back. Then the spirit of mis- 
 chief entered into me. I reciprocated his smiles and 
 said: " Ivan Babiirin, at shop No. 8, round the cor- 
 ner, has dozens of lamps such as you deal in, for half 
 the price of yours. You might be able to get them 
 even cheaper, if you know how to haggle well. But 
 I 'm afraid you don't, for you seem to have been 
 horribly cheated in your last trade, when you bought 
 your present stock at the price you mentioned. How 
 could any one have the conscience to rob an honest, 
 innocent man like you so dreadfully ? " 
 
 He looked dazed, and the last time I cast a furtive 
 glance behind me he had not recovered sufficiently 
 
BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 81 
 
 to dash after me and overwhelm me with protesta- 
 tions of his uprightness, yay Btigu! and other lingual 
 cascades. 
 
 From the zest with which I have beheld a shopman 
 and a customer waste half an hour chaffering an article 
 up and down five kopeks (two and a half cents or 
 less), I am convinced that they enjoy the excitement 
 of it, and that time is cheap enough with them to 
 allow them to indulge in this exhilarating practice. 
 
 What is the remedy for this state of things ? How 
 are foreigners, who pride themselves on never giving 
 more than the value of an article, to protect them- 
 selves? There is no remedy, I should say. One 
 must haggle, haggle, haggle, and submit. Guides 
 are useless and worse, as they probably share in the 
 shopkeeper's profit, and so raise prices. Recom- 
 mendations of shops from guides or hotels are to be 
 disregarded. Not that they are worthless, quite 
 the reverse ; only their value does not accrue to the 
 stranger, but to the other parties. It may well be, 
 as veteran travelers affirm, that one is compelled to 
 contribute to this mutual benefit association in any 
 case ; but there is a sort of satisfaction after all in 
 imagining that one is a free and independent being, 
 and going to destruction in his own way, unguided, 
 while he gets a little amusement out of his own 
 shearing. 
 
 Any one who really likes bargaining will get his . 
 fill in Russia, every time he sets foot out of doors, if ' 
 he wishes merely to take a ride. There are days, it 
 is true, when all the cabmen in town seem to have 
 entered into a league and agreed to demand a ruble 
 for a drive of half a dozen blocks ; and again, though 
 rarely, they will offer to carry one miles for one fifth 
 
82 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 of that sum, which is equally unreasonable in the 
 other direction. In either case one has his bargain- 
 ing sport, at one end of the journey or the other. I 
 find among my notes an illustration of this operation, 
 which, however, falls far short of a conversation 
 which I once overheard between a lower-class official 
 and an izv6stchik^ who could not come to terms. It 
 ended in the uniformed official exclaiming : " You 
 ask too much. I '11 use my own horses," raising a 
 large foot, and waving it gently at the cabmen. 
 
 " Home-made ! " (literally, " self-grown ") retorted 
 one izvdstchik. The rival bidders for custom shrieked 
 with laughter at his wit, the official fled, and I tried 
 in vain wonderful to relate to get the attention 
 of the group and offer them a fresh opportunity for 
 discussion by trying to hire one of them. 
 
 My note-book furnishes the following : " If any- 
 body wants a merry izvtistchik, with a stylish flour- 
 ishing red beard, I can supply him. I do not own 
 the man at present, but he has announced his firm 
 intention of accompanying me to America. I asked 
 him how he would get along without knowing the 
 language ? 
 
 " ' I 'd serve you forever ! ' said he. 
 
 " ' How could I send you on an errand ? ' said I. 
 
 " ' I 'd serve you forever ! ' said he. 
 
 " That was the answer to every objection on my 
 part. He and a black-haired izvdstchik have a fight 
 for my custom nearly every time I go out. Fighting 
 for custom in words is the regular thing, but 
 the way these men do it convulses with laughter 
 everybody within hearing, which is at least half a 
 block. It is the fashion here to take an interest in 
 chafferings with cabmen and in other street scenes. 
 
BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 83 
 
 " ' She 's to ride with me ! ' shouts one. ' Barynya, 
 I drove you to Vasfly Island one day, you remem- 
 ber ! ' * She 's going with me ; you get out ! ' yells 
 the other. 'She drove on the Ne*vsky with me long 
 before she ever saw you ; did n't you, barynya ? and 
 the Lite*inaya,' and so on till he has enumerated 
 more streets than I have ever heard of. ' And we 're 
 old, old friends, are n't we, barynya f And look at 
 my be-e-autiful horse ! ' 
 
 " ' Your horse looks like a soiled and faded glove,' 
 I retort, ' and I won't have you fight over me. Set- 
 tle it between yourselves,' and I walk off or take 
 another man, neither proceeding being favorably re- 
 garded. If any one will rid me of Redbeard I will 
 sell him for his passage -money to America. I am 
 also open to offers for Blackboard, as he has an- 
 nounced his intention of lying in wait for me at the 
 door every day, as a cat sits before a mouse's hole." 
 Vanka (the generic name for all izvtistcliiki) gets 
 about four dollars or four dollars and a half a month 
 from his employer, when he does not own his equipage. 
 In return he is obliged to hand in about a dollar and 
 a quarter a day on ordinary occasions, a dollar and 
 a half on the days preceding great festivals, and two 
 dollars and a half on festival days. If he does not 
 contrive to extract the necessary amount from his 
 fares, his employer extracts it from his wages, in the 
 shape of a fine. The men told me this. As there 
 are no fixed rates in the great cities, a bargain must 
 be struck every time, which begins by the man de- 
 manding twice or thrice the proper price, and ends 
 in your paying it if you are not familiar with ac- 
 cepted standards and distances, and in selling your- 
 self at open-air auction to the lowest bidder, acting 
 
84 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 as your own auctioneer, in case you are conversant 
 with matters in general/ 
 
 Foreigners can also study the bargaining process 
 at its best or worst in the purchase of furs. The 
 Nev& freezes over, as a rule, about the middle of 
 November, and snow conies to stay, after occasional 
 light flurries in September and October, a little later. 
 Sometimes, however, the river closes as early as the 
 end of September, or as late as within a few days of 
 Christmas. Or the rain, which begins in October, 
 continues at intervals into the month of January. 
 The price of food goes up, frozen provisions for the 
 poorer classes spoil, and more suffering, and illness 
 ensue than when the normal Arctic winter prevails. 
 In spite of the cold, one is far more comfortable than 
 in warmer climes. The "stone" houses are built 
 with double walls, three or four feet apart, of brick 
 or rubble covered with mastic. The space between 
 the walls is filled in, and, in the newer buildings, 
 apertures with ventilators near the ceilings take the 
 place of movable panes in the double windows. The 
 space between the windows is filled with a deep 
 layer of sand, in which are set small tubes of salt to 
 keep the glass clear, and a layer of snowy cotton 
 wadding on top makes a warm and appropriate finish. 
 The lower classes like to decorate their wadding with 
 dried grasses, colored paper, and brilliant odds and 
 ends, in a sort of toy-garden arrangement. The 
 cracks of the windows are filled with putty or some 
 other solid composition, over which are pasted broad 
 strips of coarse white linen. The India rubber and 
 other plants which seem so inappropriately placed, in 
 view of the brief and scant winter light, in reality 
 serve two purposes that of decoration and that of 
 
BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 85 
 
 keeping people at a respectful distance from the win- 
 dows, because the cold and wind pass through the 
 glass in dangerous volume. 
 
 Carpets are rare. Inlaid wooden floors, with or 
 without rugs, are the rule. Birch wood is, practi- 
 cally, the exclusive material for heating. Coal from 
 South Russia is too expensive in St. Petersburg ; and 
 imported coal is of the lignite order, and far from 
 satisfactory even for use in the open grates, which 
 are often used for beauty and to supplement the 
 stoves. 
 
 In the olden times, the beautifully colored and 
 ornamented tile stoves were built with a " stove 
 bench," also of tiles, near the floor, on which people 
 could sleep. Nowadays, only peasants sleep on the 
 stove, and they literally sleep on top of the huge, 
 mud-plastered stone oven, close to the ceiling. In 
 dwellings other than peasant huts, what is known 
 as the " German stove " is in use. Each stove is 
 built through the wall to heat two rooms, or a room 
 and corridor. The yard porter brings up ten or 
 twelve birch logs, of moderate girth, peels off a little 
 bark to use as kindling, and in ten minutes there is 
 a roaring fire. The door is left open, and the two 
 draught covers from the flues which resemble the 
 covers of a range in shape and size are taken out 
 until the wood is reduced to glowing coals, which no 
 longer emit blue flames. Then the door is closed, the 
 flue plates are replaced, and the stove radiates heat 
 for twenty-four hours, forty-eight hours, or longer, 
 according to the weather and the taste of the persons 
 concerned, Russian rooms not being kept nearly 
 so hot as American rooms. 
 
 In this soft, delightful, and healthy heat, heavy 
 
86 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 underclothing is a misery. Very few Russians wear 
 anything but linen, and foreigners who have been 
 used to wear flannels generally are forced to abandon 
 them in Russia. Hence the necessity for wrapping 
 up warmly when one goes out. 
 
 Whatever the caprices of the weather, during the 
 winter, according to the almanac, furs are required, 
 especially by foreigners, from the middle of October 
 or earlier until May. People who come from South- 
 ern climes, with the memory of the warm sun still 
 lingering in their veins, endure their first Russian 
 winter better than the winters which follow, provided 
 their rashness, especially during the treacherous 
 spring or autumn, does not kill them off promptly. 
 Therefore, the wise foreigner who arrives in autumn 
 sallies forth at once in quest of furs. He will get 
 plenty of bargaining and experience thrown in. 
 
 First of all, he finds that he must reconstruct his 
 ideas about furs. If he be an American, his first 
 discovery is that his favorite sealskin is out of the 
 race entirely. No Russian would pay the price 
 which is given for sealskin in return for such a 
 " cold fur," nor would he wear it on the outside for 
 display, while it would be too tender to use as a lin- 
 ing. Sealskin is good only for a short jacket be- 
 tween seasons for walking, and if one sets out on 
 foot in that garb she must return on foot ; she would 
 be running a serious risk if she took a carriage or 
 sjedge. All furs are used for linings; in short, by 
 thus reversing nature's arrangement, one obtains the 
 natural effect, and wears the fur next his skin, as the 
 original owner of the pelt did. Squirrel is a " cold," 
 cheap fur, used by laundresses and the like, while 
 mink, also reckoned as a "cold "fur, though more 
 
BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 87 
 
 expensive, is used by men only," as is the pretty 
 mottled skin obtained by piecing together sable paws. 
 The cheapest of the u downy" furs, which are the 
 proper sort for the climate, is the brown goat, that 
 constantly reminds its owner of the economy prac- 
 ticed, by its weight and characteristic strong smell, 
 though it has the merit of being very warm. Next 
 come the various grades of red fox fur, those abun- 
 dantly furnished with hair, where the red is pale and 
 small in area, and the gray patches are large and 
 dark, being the best. The kftni, which was the unit 
 of currency in olden days, and was used by royalty, 
 is the next in value, and is costly if dark, and with 
 a tough, light-weight skin, which is an essential item 
 of consideration for the necessary large cloaks. Sa- 
 bles, rich and dark, are worn, like the ktini, by any 
 one who can afford them, court dames, cavaliers, 
 archbishops, and merchants, or their wives and daugh- 
 ters, while the climax of beauty and luxury is at- 
 tained in the black fox fur, soft and delicate as feath- 
 ers, warm as a July day. The silky, curly white 
 Thibetan goat, and the thick, straight white fur of 
 the psetz, make beautiful evening wraps for women, 
 under velvets of delicate hues, and are used by day 
 also, though they are attended by the inconvenience 
 of requiring frequent cleaning. Cloth or velvet is 
 the proper covering for all furs, and the colors worn 
 for driving are often gay or light. A layer of wad- 
 ding between the fur and the covering adds warmth, 
 and makes the circular mantle called a rotunda set 
 properly. These sleeveless circular cloaks are not fit 
 for anything but driving, however, although they are 
 lapped across the breast and held firmly in place 
 by the crossed arms, a weary task, since they fall 
 
88 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 open at every breeze when the wearer is on foot, 
 but they possess the advantage over a cloak with 
 sleeves that they can be held high around the ears 
 and head at will. The most inveterate " shopper " 
 would be satisfied with the amount of running about 
 and bargaining which can be got out of buying a fur 
 cloak and a cap ! 
 
 The national cap has a soft velvet crown, sur- 
 rounded by a broad band of sable or otter, is always 
 in fashion, and lasts forever. People who like va- 
 riety buy each year a new cap, made of black Per- 
 sian lambskin, which resembles in shape that worn 
 by the Kaz^ks, though the shape is modified every 
 year by the thrifty shopkeepers. 
 
 The possibilities for self delusion, and delusion 
 from the other quarter, as to price and quality of 
 these fur articles, is simply enormous. I remember 
 the amusing tags fastened to every cloak in the shop 
 of a certain fashionable furrier in Moscow, where 
 " asking price " and " selling price " were plainly 
 indicated. By dint of inquiry I found that " paying 
 price " was considerably below " selling price." Mos- 
 cow is the place, by the way, to see the coats in- 
 tended for " really cold weather " journeys, made of 
 bear skin and of reindeer skin, impervious to cold, 
 lined with downy Siberian rat or other skins, which 
 one does not see in Petersburg shops. 
 
 The furs and the Russians' sensible manner of dress- 
 ing in general, which I have described, have much to 
 do with their comfort and freedom from colds. No 
 Russian enters a room, theatre, or public hall at any 
 season of the year with his cloak and overshoes, and 
 no well-trained servant would allow an ignorant for- 
 eigner to trifle with his health by so doing. Even 
 
BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 89 
 
 the foreign churches are provided with cloak-rooms 
 and attendants. And the Russian churches? On 
 grand occasions, when space is railed off for officials 
 or favored guests, cloak-racks and attendants are 
 provided near the door for the privileged ones, who 
 must display their uniforms and gowns as a matter 
 of state etiquette. The women find the light shawl 
 which they wear under their fur to preserve the 
 gown from hairs, to shield the chest, and for precisely 
 such emergencies sufficient protection. On ordinary 
 occasions, people who do not keep a lackey to hold 
 their cloaks just inside the entrance have an oppor- 
 tunity to practice Russian endurance, and unless the 
 crowd is very dense, the large and lofty space ren- 
 ders it quite possible, though the churches are heated, 
 to retain the fur cloak ; but it is not healthy, and 
 not always comfortable. It would not be possible to 
 provide cloak-rooms and attendants for the thousands 
 upon thousands who attend church service on Sun- 
 days and holidays. With the foreign churches, whose 
 attendance is limited comparatively, it is a different 
 matter. 
 
 One difficulty about foreigners visiting Russia in 
 winter is, that those who come for a short visit are 
 rarely willing to go to the expense of the requisite 
 furs. In general, they are so reckless of their health 
 as to inspire horror in any one who is acquainted 
 with the treacherous climate. I remember a couple 
 of Americans, who resisted all remonstrances because 
 they were on their way to a warmer clime, and went 
 about when the thermometer was twenty-five to thirty 
 degrees below zero Reaumur, in light, un wadded 
 mantles, reaching only to the waist line, and with 
 loose sleeves. A Russian remarked of them : " They 
 
90 BARGAINING IN RUSSIA. 
 
 might have shown some respect for the climate, and 
 have put on flannel compresses, or a mustard plaster 
 at least ! " Naturally, an illness was the result. If 
 such people would try to bargain for the very hand- 
 some and stylish coffins which they would consider 
 in keeping with their dignity, they would come to 
 the conclusion that furs would prove cheaper and 
 less troublesome. But furs or coffins, necessaries or 
 luxuries, everything must be bargained for in Holy 
 Russia, and with the American affection for the na- 
 tional game of poker, that should not constitute an 
 objection to the country. Only non-card-players will 
 mind such a trifle as bluff. 1 
 
 1 Reprinted, in part, from Lippincott's Magazine. 
 
V. 
 
 EXPEEIENCES. 
 
 So much has been said about the habits of the late 
 Emperor Alexander III. in his capital, that a brief 
 statement of them will not be out of place, especially 
 as I had one or two experiences, in addition to the 
 ordinary opportunities afforded by a long visit and 
 knowledge of the language and manners of the 
 people. 
 
 When the Emperor was in St. Petersburg, he drove 
 about freely every day like a private person. He 
 was never escorted or attended by guards. In place 
 of a lackey a Kazdk orderly sat beside the coach- 
 man. The orderlies of no other military men wore 
 the Kazak uniform. Any one acquainted with this 
 fact, or with the Emperor's face, could recognize him 
 as he passed. There was no other sign; even the 
 soldiers, policemen, and gendarmes gave him the 
 same salute which they gave to every general. At 
 Peterhoff, in summer, he often drove, equally unes- 
 corted, to listen to the music in the palace park, 
 which was open to all the public. 
 
 On occasions of state or ceremony, such as a royal 
 wedding or the arrival of the Shah of Persia, troops 
 lined the route of the procession, as part of the show, 
 and to keep the quiet but vigorously surging masses 
 of spectators in order; just as the police keep order 
 on St. Patrick's Day in New York, or as the militia 
 
92 EXPERIENCES. 
 
 kept order and made part of the show during the 
 land naval parade at the Columbian festivities in 
 New York. On such occasions the practice as to 
 allowing spectators on balconies, windows, and roofs 
 varied. For example, during the Emperor's recent 
 funeral procession in Moscow, roofs, balconies, open 
 windows, and every point of vantage were occupied 
 by spectators. In St. Petersburg, the public was 
 forbidden to occupy roofs, balconies, lamp-posts, or 
 railings, and it was ordered that all windows should 
 be shut, though, as usual, no restriction was placed 
 on benches, stools, and other aids to a view. A few 
 days later, when the Emperor Nicholas II. drove from 
 his wedding in the Winter Palace to the Anitchkoff 
 Palace, roofs, balconies, and open windows were 
 crowded with spectators. I saw the Emperor Alex- 
 ander III. from an open balcony, and behind closed 
 windows. 
 
 On the regular festivals and festivities, such as St. 
 George's Day, New Year's Day, the Epiphany (the 
 " Jordan," or Blessing of the Neva), the state balls, 
 Easter, and so forth, every one knew where to look for 
 the Emperor, and at what hour. The official notifi- 
 cations in the morning papers, informing members of 
 the Court at what hour and place to present them- 
 selves, furnished a good guide to the Emperor's move- 
 ments for any one who did not already know. On 
 such days the approaches to the Winter Palace were 
 kept open for the guests as they arrived; the crowd 
 was always enormous, especially at the " Jordan." 
 Bu as soon as royalties and guests had arrived, and, 
 on the " Jordan " day, as soon as the Neva had been 
 blessed, ordinary traffic was resumed on sidewalks of 
 the Winter Palace (those of the Anitchkoff Palace, 
 
EXPERIENCES. 93 
 
 where the Emperor lived, were never cut off from 
 public use), on streets, and Palace Square. Royal- 
 ties and guests departed quietly at their pleasure. 
 
 I was driving down the Ne*vsky Prospe'kt on the 
 afternoon of New Year's Day, 1889, when, just at the 
 gate of the Anitchkoff Palace, a policeman raised his 
 hand, and my sledge and the whole line behind me 
 halted. I looked round to see the reason, and beheld 
 the Emperor and Empress sitting beside me in tlie 
 semi-state cream-colored carriage, painted with a big 
 coat of arms, its black hood studded with golden 
 doubleheaded eagles, which the present Emperor 
 used on his wedding day. A coachman, postilion, 
 and footman constituted the sole " guard," while tbe 
 late prefect, General Gresser, in an open calash a 
 quarter of a mile behind, constituted the " armed 
 escort." They were on the roadway next to the 
 horse-car track, which is reserved for private equi- 
 pages, and had to cross the lines of public sledges 
 next to the sidewalk. On other occasions, such as 
 launches of ironclad war vessels, the expected pres- 
 ence of the Emperor and Empress was announced in 
 the newspapers. It was easy enough to calculate 
 the route and the hour, if one wished to see them. I 
 frequently made such calculations, in town and coun- 
 try, and, stranger though I was, I never made a mis- 
 take. When cabinet ministers or high functiona- 
 ries of the Court died, the Emperor and Empress 
 attended one of the services before the funeral, and 
 the funeral. Thousands of people calculated the 
 hour, and the best spot to see them with absolute 
 accuracy. At one such funeral, just after rumors of 
 a fresh " plot " had been rife, I saw the great crowd 
 surge up with a cheer towards the Emperor's car- 
 
94 EXPERIENCES. 
 
 riage, though the Russians are very quiet in public. 
 The police who were guarding the route of the pro- 
 cession stood still and smiled approvingly. 
 
 But sometimes the streets through which the Em- 
 peror Alexander III. was to pass were temporarily 
 forbidden to the public; such as the annual mass and 
 parade of the regiments of the Guards in their great 
 riding-schools, and a few more. I know just how 
 that device worked, because I put it to the proof 
 twice, with amusing results. 
 
 The first time it was in this wise : There exists in 
 St. Petersburg a Ladies' Artistic Circle, which meets 
 once a week all winter, to draw from models. Social 
 standing as well as artistic talent is requisite in mem- 
 bers of this society, to which two or three Grand 
 Duchesses have belonged, or do belong. The product 
 of their weekly work, added to gifts from each mem- 
 ber, is exhibited, sold, and raffled for each spring, the 
 proceeds being devoted to helping needy artists by 
 purchasing for them canvas, paints, and so forth, to 
 clothing and educating their children, or aiding them 
 in a dozen different ways, such as paying house-rent, 
 doctor's bills, pensions, and so forth, to the amount 
 of a great many thousand dollars every year. When 
 I was in Petersburg, the exhibitions took place in the 
 ballroom and drawing-room of one grand ducal palace, 
 while the home and weekly meetings were in the 
 palace of the Grand Duchess Ekaterina Mikhailovna, 
 now dead. An amiable poet, Yakoff Petrovitch, in- 
 vited me to attend one of these meetings, a number 
 of men being honorary members, though the women 
 manage everything themselves, but illness pre- 
 vented my accompanying him on the evening ap- 
 pointed for our visit. He told me, therefore, to keep 
 
EXPERIENCES. 95 
 
 my invitation card. Three months elapsed before cir- 
 cumstances permitted me to use it. 
 
 One evening, on my way from an informal call of 
 farewell on a friend who was about to set out for the 
 Crimea, I ordered my izvtistchik to drive rne to the 
 Michael Palace. We were still at some distance 
 from the palace when a policeman spoke to the 
 izvrfstchik) who drove on instead of turning that 
 corner, as he had been on the point of doing. 
 
 44 Why don't you go on up that street ? " I asked. 
 
 " Impossible ! Probably the Hosuddr [Emperor] 
 is coming," answered cabby. 
 
 " Whither is he going ? " 
 
 " We don't know," replied cabby, in true Russian 
 style. 
 
 "But I mean to go to that palace, all the same," 
 said I. 
 
 " Of course," said cabby tranquilly, turning up the 
 next parallel street, which brought us out on the 
 square close to the palace. 
 
 As we drove into the courtyard I was surprised to 
 see that it was filled with carriages, that the plumed 
 chasseurs of ambassadors and footmen in court liver- 
 ies were flitting to and fro, and that the great flight 
 of steps leading to the grand entrance was dotted 
 thickly with officers and gendarmes, exactly as though 
 an imperial birthday Te Deum at St. Isaac's Cathe- 
 dral were in progress, and twenty or twenty-five 
 thousand people must be kept in order. 
 
 " Well ! " I said to myself, " this appears to be a 
 very elegant sort of sketch-club, with evening dress 
 and all the society appurtenances. What did Y&koff 
 Petrovitch mean by telling me that a plain street 
 gown was the proper thing to wear ? This enforced 
 
96 EXPERIENCES. 
 
 'simplification' is rather trying to the feminine 
 nerves ; but I will not beat a retreat ! " 
 
 I paid and dismissed my izv6%tchik, a poor, 
 shabby fellow, such as Fate invariably allotted to me, 
 walked in, gave my furs and galoshes to the hand- 
 some, big head Swiss in imperial scarlet and gold 
 livery, and started past the throng of servants, to the 
 grand staircase, which ascended invitingly at the 
 other side of the vast hall. Unfortunately, that in- 
 stinct with whose possession women are sometimes 
 reproached prompted me to turn back, just as I had 
 reached the first step, and question the Swiss. 
 
 "In what room shall I find the Ladies' Artistic 
 Circle?" 
 
 " It does not meet to-night, madame," he answered. 
 "Her Imperial Highness has guests." 
 
 " But I thought the Circle met every Wednesday 
 night from November to May." 
 
 " It does, usually, madame ; to-night is an excep- 
 tion. You will find the ladies here next week." 
 
 " Then please to give me my slitiba and ga- 
 loshes, and call a sledge." 
 
 The Swiss gave the order fora sledge to one of the 
 palace servants standing by, and put on my galoshes 
 and cloak. But the big square was deserted, the 
 ubiquitous izvtistcliik was absent, for once, it appeared, 
 and after waiting a few minutes at the grand entrance, 
 I repeated my request to an officer of gendarmes. 
 He touched his cap, said : " Slushaiii's " (I obey, 
 madame), and set in action a series of shouts of 
 "IzvdBtchik! izv6-6-6-6-$tchik!" It ended in the dis- 
 patch of a messenger to a neighboring street, and 
 at last the appearance of a sledge, visibly shabby of 
 course, even in the dark, my luck had not deserted 
 me. 
 
EXPERIENCES. 97 
 
 I could have walked home, as it was very close 
 at hand, in much less time than it took to get the 
 sledge, be placed therein, and buttoned fast under the 
 robe by the gendarme officer ; but my heart had 
 quailed a little, I confess, when it looked for a while 
 as if I should be compelled to do it and pass that 
 array of carriages and lackeys afoot. I was glad 
 enough to be able to spend double fare on the man 
 (because I had not bargained in advance), in the 
 support of my little dignity and false pride. 
 
 As I drove out of one gate, a kind of quiet tumult 
 arose at the other. On comparing notes, two days 
 later, as to the hour, with a friend who had been at 
 the palace that night (by invitation, not in my way), 
 I found that the Emperor and Empress had driven 
 up to attend these Lenten Tableaux Vivants, in which 
 several members of the imperial family figured, just 
 as I had got out of the way. 
 
 This was one of the very few occasions when I 
 found any street reserved temporarily for the Em- 
 peror, who usually drives like a private citizen. I have 
 never been able to understand, however, what good 
 such reservation does, if undertaken as a protective 
 measure (as hasty travelers are fond of asserting), 
 when a person can head off the Emperor, reach 
 the goal by a parallel street, and then walk into a 
 small, select imperial party unknown, uninvited, un- 
 hindered, as I evidently could have done and almost 
 did, woolen gown, bonnet, and all, barred solely by 
 my own question to the Swiss at the last moment. 
 
 That the full significance of my semi-adventure 
 may be comprehended, with all its irregularity, let me 
 explain that my manner of arrival was as unsuitable 
 as suspicious, if you like as it well could be. I 
 
98 EXPERIENCES. 
 
 had no business to drive up to a palace, in a common 
 sledge hired on the street, on such an occasion. I had 
 no business to be riding alone in an open sledge at 
 night. Officers from the regiments of the Guards 
 may, from economy, use such public open sledges (there 
 are no covered sledges in town) to attend a reception 
 at the Winter Palace, or a funeral mass at a church 
 where the Emperor and Empress &re present. I have 
 seen that done. But they are careful to alight at a 
 distance and approach the august edifice on their own 
 noble, uniformed legs. But a woman without a 
 uniform to consecrate her daring ! 
 
 However, closed carriages do not stand at random 
 on the street in St. Petersburg, any more than they 
 do elsewhere, and cannot often be had either quickly 
 or easily, besides being expensive. 
 
 Nevertheless, neither then nor at any other time 
 did I ever encounter the slightest disrespect from 
 police, gendarmes, servants (those severe and often 
 impertinent judges of one's attire and equipage), nor 
 from their masters, not even on this critical occa- 
 sion when I so patently, flagrantly transgressed all 
 the proprieties, yet was not interfered with by word 
 or glance, but was permitted to discover my error 
 for myself, or plunge headlong, unwarned, into the 
 Duchess's party, regardless of my unsuitable costume. 
 
 On the following Wednesday, I drove to the palace 
 'again in the same style of equipage, and the same 
 gown, which proved to be perfectly proper, as Mr. 
 Y. P. had told me, and was greeted with a courteous 
 and amiable smile by the head Swiss, who had the air 
 of taking me under his special protection, as he con- 
 ducted me in person, not by deputy, to the quarters 
 of the Circle. 
 
EXPERIENCES. 99 
 
 I had another illustrative experience with closed 
 streets. In February come the two grand reviews of 
 the Guards, stationed in Petersburg, Peterhoff, and 
 Tzarskoe Sel6, on the Palace Place. They are fine 
 spectacles, but only for those who have access to a 
 window overlooking the scene, as all the streets lead- 
 ing to the Place are blockaded by the gendarmerie, 
 to obviate the disturbance of traffic. On one of 
 these occasions, I inadvertently selected the route 
 which the Emperor was to use. I was stopped by 
 mounted gendarmes. I told them that it was too far to 
 walk, with my heavy furs and shoes, and they allowed 
 me to proceed. A block further on, officers of higher 
 grade in the gendarmerie rode up to me and again de- 
 clared that it was impossible for me to go on ; but 
 they yielded, as did still higher officers, at two or 
 three advanced posts. I believe that it was not in- 
 tended that I should walk along that street either ; I 
 certainly had it all to myself. I know now how roy- 
 alty feels when carefully coddled, and prefer to have 
 my fellow-creatures about me. I alighted, at last, 
 with the polite assistance of a gendarme officer, at 
 the very spot where the Emperor afterward alighted 
 from his sledge and mounted his horse. At that time 
 I was living in an extremely fashionable quarter of 
 the city, where every one was supposed to keep his 
 own carriage. The result was that the izvtistchiki 
 never expected custom from any one except the ser- 
 vants of the wealthy, and none but the shabbiest 
 sledges in town ever waited there for engagements. 
 Accordingly, my turnout was very shabby, and the 
 gendarmes could not have been impressed with re- 
 spect by it. On the other hand, had I used the best 
 style of public equipage, the likdtchi, the kind which 
 
100 EXPERIENCES. 
 
 consists of an elegant little sledge, a fine horse, and 
 a spruce, well-fed, well-dressed driver, it is probable 
 that they would not have let me pass at all. Ladies 
 are not permitted, by etiquette, to patronize these 
 likdtchi) alone, and no man will take his wife or a 
 woman whom he respects to drive in one. Had I 
 foreseen that there would be any occasion for inspir- 
 ing respect by my equipage, I would have gone to the 
 trouble and expense of hiring a closed carriage, a thing 
 which I did as rarely as possible, because nothing 
 could be seen through the frozen window, because 
 they seemed much colder than the open sledges, and 
 had no advantage except style, and that of protect- 
 ing one from the wind, which I did not mind. 
 
VI. 
 
 A RUSSIAN SUMMER; RESORT. . , ., \\] . 
 
 THE spring was late and cold. I wore ray fur- 
 lined cloak (shtiba) and wrapped up my ears, by 
 Russian advice as well as by inclination, until late in 
 May. But we were told that the summer heat would 
 catch us suddenly, and that St. Petersburg would be- 
 come malodorous and unhealthy. It was necessary, 
 owing to circumstances, to find a healthy residence 
 for the summer, which should not be too far removed 
 from the capital. With a few exceptions, all the en- 
 virons of St. Petersburg are damp. Unless one goes 
 as far as Gatschina, or into the part of Finland adja- 
 cent to the city, Tzarskoe Selo presents the only dry 
 locality. In the Finnish summer colonies, one must, 
 perforce, keep house, for lack of hotels. In Tzdrs- 
 koe, as in Peterhoff, villa life is the only variety rec- 
 ognized by polite society ; but there we had or 
 seemed to have the choice between that and hotels. 
 We decided in favor of Tzarskoe, as it is called in 
 familiar conversation. As one approaches the impe- 
 rial village, it rises like a green oasis from the plain. 
 It is hedged in, like a true Russian village, but with 
 trees and bushes well trained instead of with a wat- 
 tled fence. 
 
 During the reign of Alexander II., this inland vil- 
 lage was the favorite Court resort; not Peterhoff, 
 on the Gulf of Finland, as at present. It is situated 
 
102 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 sixteen miles from St. Petersburg, on the line of the 
 first railway built in Russia, which to this day ex- 
 tends only a couple of miles beyond, for lack of the 
 necessity of farther extension, it is just to add. It 
 stands on Ian $ which; is not perceptibly higher than 
 St. P<etersbarg,:aiic( ;it took a great deal of demon- 
 stration - before; aa Empress of the last century could 
 be made tf believe that it was, in reality, on a level 
 with the top of the lofty Admiralty spire, and that 
 she must continue her tiresome trips to and fro in her 
 coach, in the impossibility of constructing a canal 
 which would enable her to sail in comfort. Tzars- 
 koe Selo, " Imperial Village: " well as the name fits 
 the place, it is thought to have been corrupted from 
 saari, the Finnish word for " farm," as a farm occu- 
 pied the site when Peter the Great pitched upon it 
 for one of his numerous summer resorts. He first 
 enlarged the farmhouse, then built one of his simple 
 wooden palaces, and a greenhouse for Katherine I. 
 Eventually he erected a small part of the present Old 
 Palace. It was at the dedication of the church here, 
 celebrated in floods of liquor (after a fashion not 
 unfamiliar in the annals of New England in earlier 
 days), that Peter I. contracted the illness which, 
 aggravated by a similar drinking-bout elsewhere im- 
 mediately afterward, and a cold caused by a wetting 
 while he was engaged in rescuing some people from 
 drowning, carried him to his grave very promptly. 
 His successors enlarged and beautified the place, 
 which first became famous during the reign of Kath- 
 erine II. At the present day, its broad macadamized 
 streets are lighted by electricity ; its G-ostinny Dvor 
 (bazaar) is like that of a provincial city ; many of 
 its sidewalks, after the same provincial pattern, have 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 103 
 
 made people prefer the middle of the street for their 
 promenades. Naturally, only the lower classes were 
 expected to walk when the Court resided there. 
 
 Before making acquaintance with the famous pal- 
 aces and parks, we undertook to settle ourselves for 
 the time being, at least. It appeared that "fur- 
 nished " villas are so called in Tz&rskoe, as elsewhere, 
 because they require to be almost completely furnished 
 by the occupant on a foundation of bare bones of 
 furniture, consisting of a few bedsteads and tables. 
 This was not convenient for travelers ; neither did 
 we wish to commit ourselves for the whole season to 
 the cares of housekeeping, lest a change of air should 
 be ordered suddenly ; so we determined to try to live 
 in another way. 
 
 Boarding-houses are as scarce here as in St. Peters- 
 burg, the whole town boasting but one, advertised 
 as a wonderful rarity, which was very badly situ- 
 ated. There were plenty of traktiri, or low-class 
 eating-houses, some of which had "numbers for ar- 
 rivers " that is to say, rooms for guests added to 
 their gaudy signs. These were not to be thought of. 
 But we had been told of an establishment which re- 
 joiced in the proud title of gostinnitza, " hotel," in city 
 fashion. It looked fairly good, and there we took up 
 our abode, after due and inevitable chaffering. This 
 hotel was kept, over shops, on the first and part of 
 the second floor of a building which had originally 
 been destined for apartments. Its only recommenda- 
 tion was that it was situated near a very desirable 
 gate into the Imperial Park. Our experience there 
 was sufficient to slake all curiosity as to Russian 
 summer resort hotels, or country hotels in provin- 
 cial towns, since that was its character; though it 
 
104 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 had, besides, some hindrances which were peculiar, I 
 hope, to itself. The usual clean, large dining-room, 
 with the polished floor, table decorated with plants, 
 and lace curtains, was irresistibly attractive, espe- 
 cially to wedding parties of shopkeepers, who danced 
 twelve hours at a stretch, and to breakfast parties 
 after funerals, whose guests made rather more uproar 
 on afternoons than did those of the wedding balls in 
 the evening, as they sang the customary doleful 
 chants, and then warmed up to the occasion with bot- 
 tled consolation. The establishment being short- 
 handed for waiters, these entertainments interfered 
 seriously with our meals, which we took in private ; 
 and we were often forced to go hungry until long 
 after the hour, because there was so much to eat in 
 the house ! 
 
 Our first experience of the place was characteristic. 
 The waiter, who was also ' boots," chambermaid, 
 and clerk, on occasion, distributed two sheets, two 
 pillows, one blanket, and one " cold " (cotton) cov- 
 erlet between the two beds, and considered that 
 ample, as no doubt it was according to some lights 
 and according to the almanac, though the weather 
 resembled November just then, and I saw snow a 
 few days later. Having succeeded in getting this 
 rectified, after some discussion, I asked for towels. 
 
 u There is one," answered Mikhe'i (Micah), with 
 his most fascinating smile. 
 
 The towel was very small, and was intended to 
 serve for two persons ! Eventually it did not ; and 
 we earned the name of being altogether too fastidi- 
 ous. The washstand had a tank of water attached 
 to the top, which we pumped into the basin with 
 a foot-treadle, after we became skillful, holding our 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 105 
 
 hands under the stream the while. The basin had 
 no stopper. " Running water is cleaner to wash in," 
 was the serious explanation. Some other barba- 
 rian who had used that washstand before us must 
 also have differed from that commonly accepted Rus- 
 sian opinion : when we plugged up the hole with 
 a cork, and it disappeared, and we fished it out of 
 the still clogged pipe, we found that six others had 
 preceded it. It took a champagne cork and a cord 
 to conquer the orifice. 
 
 Among our vulgar experiences at this place were 
 fleas. I remonstrated with MikheM, our typical 
 waiter from the government of Yaroslavl, which fur- 
 nishes restaurant garpons in hordes as a regular in- 
 dustry. Mikhe'i replied airily : 
 
 " Nitchevd ! It is nothing ! You will soon learn 
 to like them so much that you cannot do without 
 them." 
 
 I take the liberty of doubting whether even Rus- 
 sians ever reach that last state of mind, in a lifetime 
 of endurance. Two rooms beyond us, in the same 
 corridor, lodged a tall, thin, gray-haired Russian mer- 
 chant, who was nearly a typical Yankee in appear- 
 ance. Every morning, at four o'clock, when the fleas 
 were at their worst and roused us regularly (the 
 " close season " for mortals, in Russia, is between five 
 and six A. M.), we heard this man emerge from his 
 room, and shake, separately and violently, the four 
 pieces of his bedclothing into the corridor ; not out 
 of the window, as he should have done. So much 
 for the modern native taste. It is recorded that 
 the beauties of the last century, in St. Petersburg, 
 always wore on their bosoms silver "flea-catchers" 
 attached to a ribbon. These traps consisted of small 
 
106 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 tubes pierced with a great number of tiny boles, 
 closed at the bottom, open at the top, and each con- 
 taining a slender shaft smeared with honey or some 
 other sticky substance. So much for the ancient 
 native taste. 
 
 Again, we had a disagreement with Mikhe'i on the 
 subject of the roast beef. More than once it was 
 brought in having a peculiar blackish-crimson hue 
 and stringy grain, with a sweetish flavor, and an 
 odor which was singular but not tainted, and which 
 required imperatively that either we or it should 
 vacate the room instantly. Mikhe'i stuck firmly to 
 his assertion that it was a prime cut from a first- 
 class ox. We discovered the truth later on, in Mos- 
 cow, when we entered a Tatar horse-butcher's shop 
 ornamented with the picture of a horse, as the 
 law requires out of curiosity, to inquire prices. 
 We recognized the smell and other characteristics 
 of our Tzarskoe Sel6 " roast ox " at a glance and a 
 sniff, and remained only long enough to learn that 
 the best cuts cost two and a half cents a pound. 
 Afterward we went a block about to avoid passing 
 that shop. The explanation of the affair was sim- 
 ple enough. In our hotel there was a traktir, run 
 by our landlord, tucked away in a rear corner of the 
 ground floor, and opening on what Thackeray would 
 have called a " tight but elegant " little garden, for 
 summer use. It was thronged from morning till 
 night with Tatar old-clothes men and soldiers from 
 the garrison, for whom it was the rendezvous. The 
 horse beef had been provided for the Tatars, who 
 considered it a special dainty, and had been palmed 
 off upon us because it was cheap. 
 
 I may dismiss the subject of the genial Mikhe'i 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 107 
 
 here, with the remark that we met him the follow- 
 ing summer at the Samson Inn, in Peterhoff, where 
 he served our breakfast with an affectionate solici- 
 tude which somewhat alarmed us for his sobriety. 
 He was very much injured in appearance by long 
 Lair thrown back in artistic fashion, and a livid gash 
 which scored one side of his face down to his still 
 unbrushed teeth, and nearly to his unwashed shirt, 
 narrowly missing one eye, and suggested possibilities 
 of fight in him which, luckily for our peace of mind, 
 we had not suspected the previous season. 
 
 Our chambermaid at first, at the Tzarskoe hos- 
 telry, was a lad fourteen years of age, who dusted 
 in the most wonderfully conscientious way without 
 being asked, like a veteran trained housekeeper. 
 We supposed that male chambermaids were the 
 fashion, judging from the offices which we had seen 
 our St. Petersburg hotel " boots " perform, and we 
 said nothing. A Russian friend who came to call on 
 us, however, was shocked, and, without our know- 
 ledge, gave the landlord a lecture on the subject, the 
 first intimation of which was conveyed to us by the 
 appearance of a maid who had been engaged " ex- 
 pressly for the service of our high nobilities ; " price, 
 five rubles a month (two dollars and a half; she 
 chanced to live in the attic lodgings), which they 
 did not pay her, and which we gladly gave her. Her 
 conversation alone was worth three times the money. 
 Our " boots " in St. Petersburg got but four rubles 
 a month, out of which he was obliged to clothe 
 himself, and furnish the brushes, wax, and blacking 
 for the boots ; and he had not had a single day's holi- 
 day in four years, when we made his acquaintance. 
 I won his eternal devotion by "placing a candle" 
 
108 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 vicariously to the Saviour for him on Christmas Day, 
 and added one for myself, to harmonize with the 
 brotherly spirit of the season. 
 
 Andrei, the boy, never wholly recovered from the 
 grief and resentment caused by being thus supplanted, 
 and the imputation cast upon his powers of caring 
 for us. He got even with us on at least two oc- 
 casions, for the offense of which we were innocent. 
 Once he told a fashionable visitor of ours that we 
 dined daily in the traktir, with the Tatar clothes 
 peddlers and the soldiers of the garrison, with the 
 deliberate intention of shocking her. I suppose it 
 soothed his feelings for having to serve our food in 
 our own room. Again, being ordered to " place the 
 samovar" he withdrew to his chamber, the former 
 kitchen of the apartment, and went to sleep on the 
 cold range, which was his bed, where he was discov- 
 ered after we had starved patiently for an hour and 
 a half. 
 
 AndreTs supplanter was named Katiusha, but her 
 angular charms corresponded so precisely with those 
 of the character in " The Mikado " that we referred 
 to her habitually as Katisha. She had been a serf, 
 a member of the serf aristocracy, which consisted of 
 the house servants, and had served always as maid 
 or nurse. She was now struggling on as a seam- 
 stress. Her sewing was wonderfully bad, and she 
 found great difficulty in bringing up her two chil- 
 dren, who demanded fashionable " European " cloth- 
 ing, and in eking out the starvation wages of her 
 husband, a superannuated restaurant waiter, also a 
 former serf, and belonging, like herself, to the class 
 which received personal liberty, but no land, at the 
 emancipation. Her view of the emancipation was 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 109 
 
 not entirely favorable. In fact, all the ex-serfs with 
 whom I talked retained a soft spot in their hearts for 
 the comforts and irresponsibility of the good old days 
 of serfdom. 
 
 Katiusha could neither read nor write, but her 
 naturally acute powers of observation, unconsciously 
 trained by constant contact with her former owners, 
 were of very creditable quality. She possessed a 
 genuine talent for expressing herself neatly. For 
 example, in describing a concert to which she had 
 been taken, she praised the soprano singer's voice 
 with much discrimination, winding up with, " It was 
 how shall I say it ? round as round as 
 round as a cartwheel ! " 
 
 Her great delight consisted in being sent by me to 
 purchase eggs and fruit at the market, or in accom- 
 panying me to carry them home, when I went myself 
 to enjoy the scene and her methods. In her I was 
 able to study Russian bargaining tactics in their 
 finest flower. She would haggle for half an hour 
 over a quarter of a cent on very small purchases, and 
 then would carry whatever she bought into one of 
 the neighboring shops to be reweighed. To my sur- 
 prise, the good-natured venders seemed never to take 
 offense at this significant act ; and she never discov- 
 ered any dishonesty. When wearied out by this 
 sort of thing, I took charge of the proceedings, that 
 I might escape from her agonized groans and gri- 
 maces at my extravagance. After choking down her 
 emotion in gulps all the way home, she would at last 
 clasp her hands, and moan in a wheedling voice : 
 
 " Please, larynya^ how much did you pay that 
 robber?" 
 
 1 Mistress. 
 
110 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 " Two kopeks 1 apiece for the eggs. They are 
 fine, large, and fresh, as you see. Twenty kopeks a 
 pound for the strawberries, also of the first quality." 
 
 Then would follow a scene which never varied, 
 even if my indiscretion had been confined to rasp- 
 berries at five cents a pound, or currants at a cent 
 less. She would wring her hands, long and fleshless 
 as fan handles, and, her great green eyes phospho- 
 rescent with distress above her hollow cheeks and 
 projecting bones, she would cry : 
 
 " Oh, barynya, they have cheated you, cheated you 
 shamefully ! You must let me protect you." 
 
 " Come, don't you think it is worth a few kopeks 
 to be called * a pearl,' 4 a diamond,' ' an emerald ' ? " 
 
 " Is that all they called you ? " she inquired, with 
 a disdainful sniff. 
 
 " No ; they said that I was ' a real general-ess.' 
 They knew their business, you see. And they said 
 4 madame ' instead of ' suddrynyaS 2 Was there any 
 other title which they could have bestowed on me for 
 the money ? " 
 
 She confessed, with a pitying sigh, that there was 
 not, but returned to her plaint over the sinfully 
 wasted kopeks. Once I offered her some " tea- 
 money " in the shape of a basket of raspberries, 
 which she wished to preserve and drink in her tea, 
 with the privilege of purchasing them herself. As 
 an experiment to determine whether bargaining is 
 the outcome of thrift and economy alone, or a dis- 
 tinct pleasure in itself, it was a success. I followed 
 
 1 About one cent. 
 
 2 Suddrynya is the genuine Russian word for "madam," but, like 
 spasibo, " thank you," it is used only by the lower classes. Many 
 merchants who know no French except madame use it as a delicate 
 compliment to the patron's social position. 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. Ill 
 
 her from vender to vender, and waited with exem- 
 plary patience while she scrutinized their wares and 
 beat down prices with feverish eagerness, despite the 
 fact that she was not to pay the bill. I put an end 
 to the matter when she tried to persuade a pretty 
 peasant girl, who had walked eight miles, to accept 
 less than four cents a pound for superb berries. I 
 think it really spoiled my gift to her that I insisted 
 on making the girl happy with five cents a pound. 
 After that I was not surprised to find Russian mer- 
 chants catering to the taste of their customers by 
 refusing to adopt the one-price system. 
 
 It was vulgar to go to market, of course. Even 
 the great mastiff who acted as yard dog at the bazaar 
 made me aware of that fact. He always greeted me 
 politely, like a host, when he met me in the 'court at 
 market hours. But nothing could induce him even 
 to look at me when he met me outside. I tried to 
 explain to him that my motives were scientific, not 
 economical, and I introduced Katiusha to him as the 
 family bargainer and scapegoat for his scorn. He de- 
 clined to relent. After that I understood that there 
 was nothing for it but to shoulder the responsibility 
 myself, and I never attempted to palliate my unpar- 
 donable conduct in the eyes of the servants of my 
 friends whom I occasionally encountered there. 
 
 The market was held in the inner courtyard of the 
 Gostinny Dvor, near the chapel, which always occu- 
 pies a conspicuous position in such places. While 
 the shops under the arcade, facing on the street, 
 sold everything, from " gallantry wares " (dry goods 
 and small wares) to nails, the inner booths were all 
 devoted to edibles. On the rubble pavement of the 
 court squatted peasants from the villages for many 
 
112 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 versts round about, both Russian and Finnish, hedged 
 in by their wares, vegetables, flowers, fruit, and live 
 poultry. The Russians exhibited no beautiful cos- 
 tumes ; their proximity to the capital had done away 
 with all that. At first I was inexperienced, and 
 went unprovided with receptacles for my marketing. 
 The market women looked up in surprise. 
 
 "What, have you no kerchief?" they asked, as 
 though I were a peasant or petty merchant's wife, 
 and could remove the typical piece of gayly colored 
 cloth from my head or neck. When I objected to 
 transporting eggs and berries in my only resource, 
 my handkerchief, they reluctantly produced scraps 
 of dirty newspaper, or of ledgers scrawled over with 
 queer accounts. I soon grew wise, and hoarded up 
 the splin-t strawberry baskets provided by the male 
 venders, which are put to multifarious uses in 
 Russia. 
 
 After being asked for a kerchief in the markets, 
 and a sheet when I went to get my fur cloak from 
 its summer storage at a fashionable city shop, and 
 after making divers notes on journeys, I was obliged 
 to conclude that the ancient merchant fashion in 
 Russia had been to seize the nearest fabric at hand, 
 the sheet from the bed, the cloth from the table, 
 and use it as a traveling trunk. 
 
 The Finns at the market were not to be mistaken 
 for Russians. Their features were wooden ; their 
 expression was far less intelligent than that of the 
 Russians. The women were addicted to wonderful 
 patterns in aprons and silver ornaments, and wore, 
 under a white head kerchief, a stiff glazed white cir- 
 clet which seemed to wear away their blond hair. 
 These women arrived regularly every morning, before 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 113 
 
 five o'clock, at the shops of the baker and the grocer 
 opposite our windows. The shops opened at that 
 hour, after having kept open until eleven o'clock at 
 night, or later. After refreshing themselves with 
 a roll and a bunch of young onions, of which the 
 green tops appeared to be the most relished, the 
 women made their town toilet by lowering the very 
 much reefed skirt of their single garment, drawing on 
 footless stockings, and donning shoes. At ten o'clock, 
 or even earlier, they came back to fill the sacks of 
 coarse white linen, borne over their shoulders, with 
 necessaries for their households, purchased with the 
 proceeds of their sales, and to reverse their toilet op- 
 erations, preparatory to the long tramp homeward. I 
 sometimes caught them buying articles which seemed 
 extravagant luxuries, all things considered, such as 
 raisins. One of their specialties was the sale of lilies 
 of the valley, which grow wild in the Russian forests. 
 Their peculiar little trot-trot, and the indescribable 
 semi-tones and quarter-tones in which they cried, 
 " Ldnd-dy-y-y-shee ! " were unmistakably Finnish at 
 any distance. 
 
 The scene at the market was always entertaining. 
 Tzarskoe is surrounded by market gardens, where 
 vegetables and fruits are raised in highly manured 
 and excessively hilled-up beds. It sends tons of its 
 products to the capital as well as to the local market. 
 Everything was cheap and delicious. Eggs were 
 dear when they reached a cent and a half apiece. 
 Strawberries, huge and luscious, were dear at ten 
 cents a pound, since in warm seasons they cost but 
 five. Another berry, sister to the strawberry, but 
 differing from it utterly in taste, was the klubnika, 
 of which there were two varieties, the white and the 
 
114 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 bluish-red, both delicious in their peculiar flavor, 
 but less decorative in size and aspect than the straw- 
 berry. 
 
 The native cherries, small and sour, make excel- 
 lent preserves, with a spicy flavor, which are much 
 liked by Russians in their tea. The only objection 
 to this use of them is that both tea and cherries are 
 spoiled. Raspberries, plums, gooseberries, and cur- 
 rants were plentiful and cheap. A vegetable deli- 
 cacy of high order, according to Katitisha, who intro- 
 duced it to my notice, was a sort of radish with an 
 extremely fine, hard grain, and biting qualities much 
 developed, which attains enormous size, and is eaten 
 in thin slices, salted and buttered. I presented the 
 solitary specimen which I bought, a ninepin in pro- 
 portions, to the grateful Katitisha. It was beyond 
 my appreciation. 
 
 Pears do not thrive so far north, but in good years 
 apples of fine sorts are raised, to a certain extent, 
 in the vicinity of St. Petersburg. Really good speci- 
 mens, however, come from Poland, the lower Volga, 
 Little Russia, and other distant points, which ren- 
 ders them always rather dear. We saw few in our 
 village that were worth buying, as the season was 
 phenomenally cold, and a month or three weeks late, 
 so that we got our strawberries in August, and our 
 linden blossoms in September. Apples, plums, grapes, 
 and honey are not eaten in theory until after 
 they have been blessed at the feast of the Transfig- 
 uration, on August 18 (N. S.), a very good scheme 
 for giving them time to ripen fully for health. Be- 
 fore that day, however, hucksters bearing trays of 
 honey on their heads are eagerly welcomed, and the 
 peasant's special dainty fresh cucumbers thickly 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 115 
 
 coated with honey is indulged in unblessed. Honey 
 is not so plentiful that one can afford to fling away 
 a premature chance ! 
 
 When the mushroom season came in, the market 
 assumed an aspect of half-subdued brilliancy with 
 the many sombre and high-colored varieties of that 
 fungus. The poorer people indulge in numerous 
 kinds which the rich do not eat, and they furnish 
 precious sustenance during fasts, when so many viands 
 are forbidden by the Russian Church and by pov- 
 erty. One of the really odd sights, during the fast 
 of Saints Peter and Paul (the first half of July), was 
 that of people walking along the streets with bunches 
 of pea-vines, from which they were plucking the peas, 
 and eating them, pods and all, quite raw. It seemed 
 a very summary and wasteful way of gathering them. 
 This fashion of eating vegetables raw was imported, 
 along with the liturgy, from the hot lands where the 
 Eastern Church first flourished, and where raw food 
 was suitable. These traditions, and probably also 
 the economy of fuel, cause it to be still persisted in, 
 in a climate to which it is wholly unsuited. Near 
 Tzarskoe I found one variety of pea growing to the 
 altitude of nearly seven feet, and producing pods 
 seven inches long and three wide. The stalks of the 
 double poppies in the same garden were six and seven 
 feet high, and the flowers were the size of peonies, 
 while the pods of the single poppies were nine inches 
 in circumference. 
 
 One of the great festivals of the Russian Church 
 is Whitsunday, the seventh Sunday after Easter ; but 
 it is called Trinity Sunday, and the next day is 
 " the Day of Spirits," or Pentecost. On this Pen- 
 tecost Day a curious sight was formerly to be seen in 
 
116 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 St. Petersburg. Mothers belonging to the merchant 
 class arrayed their marriageable daughters in their 
 best attire ; hung about their necks not only all the 
 jewels which formed a part of their dowries, but 
 also, it is said, the silver ladles, forks, and spoons ; 
 and took them to the Summer Garden, to be in- 
 spected and proposed for by the young men. 
 
 But the place where this spectacle can be seen in 
 the most charming way is Tzarskoe Selo. We were 
 favored with superb weather on both the festal days. 
 On Sunday morning every one went to church, as 
 usual. The small church behind the Lyceum, where 
 Pushkin was educated, with its un-Russian spire, 
 ranks as a Court church ; that in the Old Palace 
 across the way being opened only on special occa- 
 sions, now that the Court is not in residence. Out- 
 side, the choir sat under the golden rain of acacia 
 blossoms and the hedge of fragrant lilacs until the 
 last moment, the sunshine throwing into relief their 
 gold-laced black cloth vestments and crimson belts. 
 They were singers from one of the regiments sta- 
 tioned in town, and crimson was the regimental 
 color. The church is accessible to all classes, and it 
 was crowded. As at Easter, every one was clad in 
 white or light colors, even those who were in mourn- 
 ing having donned the bluish-gray which serves them 
 for festive garb. In place of the Easter candle, each 
 held a bouquet of flowers. In the corners of the 
 church stood young birch-trees, with their satin bark 
 and feathery foliage, and boughs of the same decked 
 the walls. There is a law now which forbids this 
 annual destruction of young trees at Pentecost, but 
 the practice continues, and the tradition is that one 
 must shed as many tears for his sins as there are 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 117 
 
 dewdrops on the birch bough which he carries, if lie 
 has no flowers. Peasant women in clean cotton 
 gowns elbowed members of the Court in silks ; fat 
 merchants, with well-greased, odorous hair and boots, 
 in hot, long-skirted blue cloth coats, stood side by 
 side with shabby invalid soldiers or smartly uni- 
 formed officers. Tiny peasant children seated them- 
 selves on the floor when their little legs refused fur- 
 ther service, and imitated diligently all the low 
 reverences and signs of the cross made by their 
 parents. Those of larger growth stood with the pre- 
 ternatural repose and dignity of the adult Russian 
 peasant, and followed the liturgy independently. 
 One little girl of seven, self-possessed and serenely 
 unconscious, slipped through the crowd to the large 
 image of the Virgin near the altar, grasped the 
 breast-high guard-rail, and kissed the holy picture 
 in the middle of her agile vault. When some mem- 
 bers of the imperial family arrived, the crowd pressed 
 together still more closely, to make a narrow pas- 
 gage to the small space reserved for them opposite 
 the choir. After the ever beautiful liturgy, finely 
 expressed special prayers were offered, during which 
 the priest also carried flowers. 
 
 Another church service on the following day a 
 day when public offices are closed and business ceases 
 completed the religious duties of the festival. In 
 the afternoon, the whole town began to flock to the 
 Imperial Park surrounding the Old Palace, people 
 of the upper circles included, the latter from 
 motives of curiosity, of course. Three bands of the 
 Guards furnished the music. On the great terrace, 
 shaded by oak-trees hardly beyond the bronze-pink 
 stage of their leafage, played the hussars. Near the 
 
118 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 breakfast gallery, with its bronze statues of Hercules 
 and Flora, which the common people call " Adam and 
 Eve " (the Ariadne on Naxos, in a neighboring 
 grotto, is popularly believed to be " a girl of seven 
 years, who was bitten by a snake while roaming the 
 Russian primeval forest, and died "), were the cuiras- 
 siers. The btryelki (sharpshooters) were stationed 
 near the lake, the central point for meetings and 
 promenades during the lovely " white nights ; " where 
 boats of every sort, from a sail-boat or a Chinese 
 sampan to an Astrakhan fishing-boat or a snowshoe 
 skiff, are furnished gratis all summer, with a sailor of 
 the Guard to row them, if desired. Round and round 
 and round, unweariedly, paced the girls. They were 
 bareheaded and in slippered feet, as usual, but had 
 abandoned the favorite ulster, which too often ac- 
 companies extremities thus unclad, to display their 
 gayest gowns. The young men gazed with intense 
 interest. Here and there a young fellow in " Eu- 
 ropean clothes" was to be seen conversing with the 
 more conservative young merchants, who retained the 
 wrinkled boots confining full trousers, the shirt worn 
 outside the trousers, the cloth vest, and the blue 
 cloth long coat of traditional cut. 
 
 It was like a scene from the theatre. Across the 
 lake, dotted with boating parties, stretched lawns 
 planted with trees chosen for their variety of foliage, 
 from the silver willow to the darkest evergreens, 
 while the banks were diversified with a boat-house, a 
 terraced grotto, a Turkish kiosk with a bath, bridges, 
 and so on. Of the immense palace which stood so 
 near at hand the graceful breakfast gallery alone 
 was visible, while high above the waving crests of 
 the trees the five cupolas of the palace church, in the 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 119 
 
 shape of imperial crowns, seemed to float in the clear 
 blue sky like golden bubbles. The lawns within the 
 acacia-hedged compartments were dazzling with cam- 
 panulas, harebells, rose campions, and crimson and 
 yellow columbine, or gleamed with the pale turquoise- 
 of forget-me-nots. We had only to enter the adjoin- 
 ing park surrounding the Alexander Palace, built 
 for Alexander I. by his grandmother, Katherine II., 
 to find the Field of the Cloth of Gold realized by 
 acres of tall double Siberian buttercups, as large and 
 as fragrant as yellow roses. 
 
 Soldiers of the garrison strolled about quietly, as 
 usual. The pet of the hussars was in great form, 
 and his escort of admiring comrades was larger than 
 ever. They thrust upon him half of their tidbits and 
 sunflower seeds, what masses of sunflower seeds 
 and handbill cigarettes were consumed that day, not 
 to mention squash seeds, by the more opulent ! and 
 waited eagerly for his dimpled smile as their reward. 
 When the bands were weary, the regimental singers 
 ranged themselves in a circle, and struck up songs of 
 love, of battle, and of mirth, amid the applause and 
 laughter of the crowd. Now and then a soldier would 
 step into the middle of the circle and dance. The 
 slight, agile, square-capped stryelki spun round until 
 their full-plaited black tunics stood out from their 
 tightly belted waists like the skirts of ballet dancers. 
 The slender, graceful hussars, with their yellow- 
 laced scarlet jackets and tight blue trousers, flitted 
 to and fro like gay birds. The best performer of all 
 was a cuirassier, a big blond fellow, with ruddy 
 cheeks and dazzling teeth. Planting his peakless 
 white cloth cap with its yellow band firmly on his 
 head, he stepped forward, grasping in each hand a 
 
120 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 serried pyramid of brass bells, which chimed merrily 
 as he squatted, leaped, and executed eccentric steps 
 with his feet, while his arms beat time and his fine 
 voice rolled out the solo of a rollicking ballad, to 
 which the rest of the company furnished the chorus 
 as well as their laughter and delighted applause of 
 his efforts permitted. His tightly fitting dark green 
 trousers, tall boots, and jacket of white cloth trimmed 
 with yellow set off his muscular form to great advan- 
 tage. A comrade stood by, shaking the buntchuk, an 
 ornamental combination of brass half -moons, gay 
 horsetails, and bells, the Turkish staff of command, 
 which is carried as a special privilege by several 
 Russian cavalry regiments. There is nothing that a 
 company of Russians likes better than a spirited 
 performance of their national dances, whether it be 
 high-class Russians at a Russian opera in the Impe- 
 rial Theatre, or the masses on informal occasions tike 
 the present. This soldier, who danced with joy in 
 every fibre, was quite willing to oblige them indefi- 
 nitely, and seemed to be made of steel springs. He 
 stopped with great reluctance, and that only when 
 his company was ordered peremptorily to march off 
 to barracks at the appointed hour. 
 
 How many weddings resulted from that day's dress 
 parade I know not. But I presume the traditional 
 " match-makers " did their duty, if the young men 
 were sufficiently impressed by the girls' outfits to 
 commission these professional proposers to lay their 
 hearts and hands at the feet of the parents on the 
 following day. They certainly could not have been 
 hopelessly bewitched by any beauty which was on 
 show. The presence of the soldiers, the singing, 
 music, and dancing, framed in that exquisite park, 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 121 
 
 combined to create a scene the impression of which 
 is far beyond comparison with that of the same pa- 
 rade in the Summer Garden at St. Petersburg. 
 
 This grand terrace of the Old Palace is a favorite 
 resort for mothers and children, especially when the 
 different bands of the Guards' regiments stationed in 
 the town furnish music. But not far away, in the 
 less stately, more natural park surrounding the Alex- 
 ander Palace, the property of the Crown Prince, lies 
 the real paradise of the children of all classes. There 
 is the playground, provided with gymnastic appara- 
 tus, laid out at the foot of a picturesque tower, one 
 of the line of signal towers, now mostly demolished, 
 which, before the introduction of the telegraph, 
 flashed news from Warsaw to St. Petersburg in the 
 then phenomenally short space of twenty-four hours. 
 The children's favorite amusement is the "net." 
 Sailors of the guard set up a full-rigged ship's mast, 
 surrounded, about two feet from the ground, by a 
 wide sweep of close-meshed rope netting well tarred. 
 Boys and girls of ambition climb the rigging, swing, 
 and drop into the net. The little ones never weary 
 of dancing about on its yielding surface. A stal- 
 wart, gentle giant of a sailor watches over the safety 
 of the merrymakers, and warns, teaches, or helps 
 them, if they wish it. 
 
 Their nurses, with pendent bosoms and fat shoul- 
 ders peeping through the transparent muslin of their 
 chemises, make a bouquet of colors, with their gay 
 sarafdni, their many-hued cashmere caps attached 
 to pearl-embroidered, coronet-shaped koktfshniki, and 
 terminating in ribbons which descend to their heels, 
 and are outshone in color only by the motley assem- 
 blage of beads on their throats. 
 
122 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 Here, round the gymnastic apparatus and the net, 
 one is able for the first time to believe solidly in the 
 existence of Russian children. In town, in the win- 
 ter, one has doubted it, despite occasional coveys of 
 boys in military greatcoats, book-knapsacks of seal- 
 skin strapped to their shoulders to keep their backs 
 straight, and officer-like caps. The summer garb of 
 the lads from the gymnasia and other institutes con- 
 sists of thin, dark woolen material or of coarse gray 
 linen, made in the blouse or Russian shirt form, which 
 portraits of Count Lyeff Nikolaevitch Tolst6y, the au- 
 thor, have rendered familiar to foreigners. It must 
 not be argued from this fact that Count Tolst6y set the 
 fashion ; far from it. It is the ordinary and sensible 
 garment in common use, which he has adopted from 
 others, not they from him. It can be seen on older 
 students any day, even in winter, in the reading-room 
 of the Imperial Public Library in St. Petersburg, on 
 the imperial choir in the Winter Palace as undress 
 uniform for week-day services, and elsewhere. 
 
 Some indulgent mothers make silk blouses for their 
 sons, and embroider them with cross-stitch patterns 
 in colored floss, as was the fashion a number of years 
 ago, when a patriotic outburst of sentiment was ex- 
 pressed by the adoption of the " national costume," 
 for house wear, by adults of both sexes. From this 
 period dates also, no doubt, that style of " peasant- 
 dress " which can be seen occasionally, in unfash- 
 ionable summer resorts, on girls not of the highest 
 class by any means, and which the city shops furnish 
 in abundance as genuine to misguided foreigners. 
 Every one is familiar with these fantastic combina- 
 tions of colored lace insertion with bands of blue cot- 
 ton worked in high colors, and fashioned into blouses 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 123 
 
 and aprons such as no peasant maid ever wore or 
 beheld. 
 
 What strikes one very forcibly about Russian chil- 
 dren, when one sees them at play in the parks, is 
 their quiet, self-possessed manners and their lack of 
 boisterousness. If they were inclined to scream, to 
 fling themselves about wildly and be rude, they 
 would assuredly be checked promptly and effect- 
 ually, since the rights of grown people to peace, 
 respect, and the pursuit of happiness are still recog- 
 nized in that land. But, from my observation of the 
 same qualities in untutored peasant children, I am 
 inclined to think that Russian children are born more 
 agreeable than Western children ; yet they seem to 
 be as cheerful and lively as is necessary, and in no 
 way restricted. Whistling, howling, stamping, and 
 kindred muscular exercises begin just over the West- 
 ern frontier, and increase in violence as one proceeds 
 westward, until Japan is reached, or possibly the 
 Sandwich Islands, by which time, I am told, one 
 enters the Orient and the realm of peace once more. 
 
 What noise we heard in Tzarskoe came from quite 
 another quarter. As we were strolling in the park 
 one afternoon, we heard sounds of uproarious mirth 
 proceeding from the little island in the private impe- 
 rial garden, where the Duchess of Edinburgh, in her 
 girlhood, had a pretty Russian cottage, cow-stalls, and 
 so forth, with flower and potato beds. She and her 
 brothers were in the habit of planting their pussy 
 willows, received on Palm Sunday, on the bank of 
 the stream, and these, duly labeled, have now grown 
 into a hedge of trees. The screen is not perfect, 
 however, and glimpses of the playground are open to 
 the public across the narrow stream. On this sum- 
 
124 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 mer afternoon, there was a party of royalties on the 
 island, swinging on the Giant Steps. The Giant 
 Steps, I must explain, consist of a tall, stout mast 
 firmly planted in the earth, bound with iron at the 
 top, and upholding a thick iron ring to which are 
 attached heavy cables which touch the ground. The 
 game consists of a number of persons seizing hold of 
 these cables, running round the mast until sufficient 
 impetus is acquired, and then swinging through the 
 air in a circle. The TzareVitch, 1 who had driven over 
 from the great camp at Kr&snoe Selo, and whom I 
 had seen in the church of the Old Palace that morn- 
 ing at a special mass, with the angelic imperial choir 
 and the priests from the Winter Palace sent down 
 from Petersburg for the occasion, was now sailing 
 through the air high up toward the apex of the mast. 
 One of his imperial aunts, clad in a fleecy white 
 gown, occupied a similar position on another cable. 
 It was plain that they could not have done their own 
 running to gain impetus, and that the gardeners 
 must have towed them by the ends of the ropes. The 
 other grand dukes and duchesses were managing 
 their own cables in the usual manner. The party 
 included the king and queen of Greece and other 
 royal spectators. What interested me most was to 
 hear them all shrieking and conversing in Russian, 
 with only occasional lapses into French, instead of 
 the reverse. 
 
 But everything is not royal in the vicinity of these 
 summer parks and palaces. For example, just out- 
 side of Tzarskoe Selo, on the Petersburg highway, 
 lies a Russian village called Kuzmino, whose inhabit- 
 ants are as genuine, unmodified peasants as if they 
 1 The present Emperor, Nicholas II. 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 125 
 
 lived a hundred miles from any provincial town. 
 Here in the north, where timber is plentiful, cottages 
 are raised from the ground by a half-story, with- 
 out windows, which serves as a storeroom for carts, 
 sledges, and farming implements. The entrance is 
 through a door beside the large courtyard gate, which 
 rears its heavy frame on the street line, adjoining 
 the house, in Russian fashion. A rough staircase 
 leads to the dwelling-rooms over the shed storeroom. 
 Three tiny windows on the street front, with solid 
 wooden shutters, are the ordinary allowance for 
 light. In Kuzmino, many of the windows had deli- 
 cate, clean white curtains, and all were filled with 
 blooming plants. A single window, for symmetry, 
 and a carved balcony fill in the sharp gable end of 
 such houses, but open into nothing, and the window 
 is not even glazed. Carved horses' heads, rude but 
 recognizable, tuft the peak, and lacelike wood carving 
 droops from the eaves. The roofs also are of wood. 
 
 This was the style of the cottages in Kuzmino. 
 The name of the owner was inscribed on the corner 
 of each house ; and there appeared to be but two 
 surnames, at most three, in the whole village. One 
 new but unfinished house seemed to have been built 
 from the ridgepole downward, instead of in the usual 
 order. There were no doorways or stairs or aper- 
 tures for communication between the stories, which 
 were two in number. It was an architectural riddle. 
 
 As a stroll to the village had consumed an unex- 
 pected amount of time, we found ourselves, at the 
 breakfast hour, miles away from our hotel. We in- 
 stituted a search for milk, and were directed at ran- 
 dom, it seemed, until a withered little old peasant, 
 who was evidently given to tippling, enlisted himself 
 
126 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 as our guide. He took us to the house of a woman 
 who carried milk and cream to town twice a week, 
 and introduced us with a comical flourish. 
 
 The family consisted of an old woman, as dried 
 and colorless as a Russian codfish from Arkhangel, 
 but very clean and active ; her son, a big, fresh-col- 
 ored fellow, with a mop of dark brown curls, well 
 set off by his scarlet cotton blouse ; his wife, a slen- 
 der, red-cheeked brunette, with delicate, pretty fea- 
 tures ; and their baby girl. They treated us like 
 friends come to make a call ; refused to accept money 
 for their cream ; begged us to allow them to prepare 
 the samovar, as a favor to them, and send for white 
 rolls, as they were sure we could not eat their sour 
 black bread ; and expressed deep regret that their 
 berries were all gone, as the season was past. They 
 showed us over their house in the prettiest, simplest 
 way, and introduced us to the dark storeroom where 
 their spare clothing and stores of food for the winter, 
 such as salted cucumbers in casks, and other property, 
 were packed away ; to a narrow slip of a room on 
 the front, where the meals for the family were pre- 
 pared with remarkably few pots and no pans ; to the 
 living-room, with its whitewashed stone-and-mud oven 
 in one corner, for both cooking and heating, a bench 
 running round the walls on three sides, and a clean 
 pine table in the corner of honor, where hung the 
 holy images. They had a fine collection of these 
 images, which were a sign of prosperity as well as of 
 devotion. The existence of another tiny room also 
 bore witness to easy circumstances. In this room 
 they slept ; and the baby, who was taking her noon- 
 day nap, was exhibited to us by the proud papa. 
 Her cradle consisted of a splint market basket 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 127 
 
 suspended from the ceiling by a stout wire spring, 
 like the spring of a bird-cage, and rocked gently. 
 The baby gazed at us with bright, bird-like eyes and 
 smiled quietly when she woke, as though she had 
 inherited her parents' gentle ways. We believed 
 them when they said that she never cried ; we had 
 already discovered that this was the rule with Rus- 
 sian children of all classes. 
 
 They were much interested to learn from what 
 country we came. I was prepared to find them un- 
 acquainted with the situation of America, after hav- 
 ing been asked by an old soldier in the park, " In 
 what district of Russia is America ? " and after having 
 been told by an izvdstchik that the late Empress had 
 come from my country, since " Germany " meant for 
 him all the world which was not Russia, just as the 
 adjective " German " signifies anything foreign and 
 not wholly approved. 
 
 "Is America near Berlin?" asked our peasant 
 hosts. 
 
 " Farther than that," I replied. 
 
 They laughed, and gave up the riddle after a few 
 more equally wild guesses. 
 
 "It is on the other side of the world," I said. 
 
 " Then you must be nearer God than we are ! " 
 they exclaimed, with a sort of reverence for people 
 who came from the suburbs of heaven. 
 
 " Surely," I said, " you do not think that the earth 
 is flat, and that we live on the upper side, and you on 
 the lower ? " 
 
 But that was precisely what they did think, in 
 their modesty, and, as it seemed a hopeless task to 
 demonstrate to them the sphericity of the globe, I 
 left them in that flattering delusion. 
 
128 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 I asked the old woman to explain her holy pictures 
 to me, as I always enjoyed the quaint expressions and 
 elucidations of the peasants, and inquired whether 
 she thought the ik6na of the Virgin was the Virgin 
 herself. I had heard it asserted very often by over- 
 wise foreigners that this was the idea entertained by 
 all Russians, without regard to class, and especially 
 by the peasants. 
 
 " No," she replied, " but it shows the Virgin 
 Mother to me, just as your picture would show you 
 to me when you were on the other side of the world, 
 and remind me of you. Only how shall I say it? 
 there is more power in a wonder-working ik6na 
 like this." 
 
 She handed me one which depicted the Virgin com- 
 pletely surrounded by a halo of starlike points shaded 
 in red and yellow flames. It is called " the Virgin- 
 of-the-Bush-that-burned-but-was-not-consumed," evi- 
 dently a reminiscence of Moses. She attached par- 
 ticular value to it because of the aid rendered on the 
 occasion which had demonstrated its " wonder-work- 
 ing " (miraculous) powers. It appeared that a dan- 
 gerous fire had broken out in the neighborhood, and 
 was rapidly consuming the close-set wooden village, 
 as such fires generally do without remedy. As the 
 fire had been started by the lightning, on St. Ilya's 
 Day (St. Elijah's), no earthly power could quench 
 it but the milk from a jet-black cow, which no one 
 chanced to have on hand. Seeing the flames ap- 
 proach, my old woman, Domna Nikolaevna T., seized 
 the holy image, ran out, and held it facing the confla- 
 gration, uttering the proper prayer the while. Im- 
 mediately a strong wind arose and drove the flames 
 off in a safe direction, and the village was rescued. 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 129 
 
 She had a thanksgiving service celebrated in the 
 church, and placed I know not how many candles to 
 the Virgin's honor, as did the other villagers. Thus 
 they had learned that there was divine power in this 
 ik6na, although it was not, strictly speaking, "won- 
 der-working," since it had not been officially recog- 
 nized as such by the ecclesiastical authorities. 
 
 These people seemed happy and contented with 
 their lot. Not one of them could read or write much, 
 the old woman not at all. They cultivated berries 
 for market as well as carried on the milk business ; 
 and when we rose to go, they entreated us to come 
 out on their plot of land and see whether some could 
 not be found. To their grief, only a few small cher- 
 ries were to be discovered, it was September, 
 and these they forced upon us. As we had hurt their 
 feelings by leaving money on the table to pay for the 
 cream, we accepted the cherries by way of compro- 
 mise. The old woman chatted freely in her garden. 
 She had been a serf, and, in her opinion, things were 
 not much changed for the better, except in one re- 
 spect. All the people in this village had been crown 
 serfs, it seemed. The lot of the crown serfs was 
 easier in every way than that of the ordinary private 
 serfs, so that the emancipation only put a definite 
 name to the practical freedom which they already 
 enjoyed, and added a few minor privileges, with the 
 ownership of a somewhat larger allotment of land 
 than the serfs of the nobility received. I knew this: 
 she was hardly capable of giving me so complete a 
 summary of their condition. But it was the usual 
 but, I found they had to work much harder now 
 than before, in order to live. The only real improve- 
 ment which she could think of, on the inspiration of 
 
130 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 the moment, was, that a certain irascible crown offi- 
 cial, who had had charge of them in the olden days, 
 and whose name she mentioned, who had been in the 
 habit of distributing beatings with a lavish hand 
 whenever the serfs displeased him or obeyed reluc- 
 tantly, had been obliged to restrain his temper after 
 the emancipation. 
 
 " Nowadays, there is no one to order us about like 
 that, or to thrash us," she remarked. 
 
 We found our fuddled old peasant guide hanging 
 about for " tea-money," when we bade farewell to my 
 friend D<5mna, who, with her family, offered us her 
 hand at parting. He was not too thoroughly soaked 
 with " tea" already not to be able to draw the infer- 
 ence that our long stay with the milkwoman indicated 
 pleasure, and he intimated that the introduction fee 
 ought to be in proportion to our enjoyment. We re- 
 sponded so cheerfully to this demand that he imme- 
 diately discovered the existence of a dozen historical 
 monuments and points of interest in the tiny village, 
 all invented on the spot ; and when we dismissed him 
 peremptorily, he took great care to impress his name 
 and the position of his hut on our memories, for fu- 
 ture use. 
 
 We had already seen the only object of any inter- 
 est, the large church far away down the mile-long 
 street. We had found a festival mass in progress, as 
 it happened to be one of the noted holidays of the 
 year. As we stood a little to one side, listening to 
 the sweet but unsophisticated chanting of the village 
 lads, who had had no training beyond that given in 
 the village school, a woman approached us with a 
 tiny coffin tucked under one arm. Trestles were 
 brought ; she set it down on them, beside us. It was 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 131 
 
 very plain in form, made of the commonest wood, 
 and stained a bright yellow with a kind of thin wash, 
 instead of the vivid pink which seems to be the favor- 
 ite hue for children's coffins in town. The baby's 
 father removed the lid, which comprised exactly half 
 the depth, the mother smoothed out the draperies, 
 and they took their stand near by. Several strips of 
 the coarsest pink tarlatan were draped across the lit- 
 tle waxen brow and along the edges of the coffin. 
 On these lay such poor flowers as the lateness of the 
 season and the poverty of the parents could afford, 
 small, half-withered or frost-bitten dahlias, pop- 
 pies, and one stray corn-flower. The parents looked 
 gently resigned, patient, sorrowful, but tearless, as is 
 the Russian manner. After the liturgy and special 
 prayers for the day, the funeral service was begun ; 
 but we went out into the graveyard surrounding the 
 church, and ran the gauntlet of the beggars at the 
 door, beggars in the midst of poverty, to whom 
 the poor gave their mites with gentle sympathy. 
 
 Russian graveyards are not, as a rule, like the 
 sunny, cheerful homes of the dead to which we are 
 accustomed. This one was especially melancholy, 
 with its narrow, tortuous paths, uncared-for plots, 
 and crosses of unpainted wood blackened by the 
 weather. The most elaborate monuments did not 
 rise above tin crosses painted to simulate birch 
 boughs. It was strictly a peasant cemetery, utterly 
 lacking in graves of the higher classes, or even of the 
 well to do. 
 
 On its outskirts, where the flat, treeless plain be- 
 gan again, we found a peasant sexton engaged in 
 digging a grave. His conversation was depressing, 
 not because he dwelt unduly upon death and kindred 
 
132 A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 
 
 subjects, but because his views of life were so pessi- 
 mistic. Why, for example, did it enter his brain to 
 warn me that the Finnish women of the neighboring 
 villages, all the country round about is the old 
 Finnish Ingermannland, in company with the wo- 
 men of his own village, were in the habit of buying 
 stale eggs at the Tzarskoe Selo shops to mix with 
 their fresh eggs, which they sold in the market, the 
 same with intent to deceive? A stale egg explains it- 
 self as promptly and as thoroughly as anything I am 
 acquainted with, not excepting Limburger cheese, and 
 Katiusha and I had had no severe experiences with 
 the women whom he thus un flatteringly described. 
 He seemed a thoroughly disillusioned man, and we 
 left him at last, with an involuntary burden of misan- 
 thropic ideas, though he addressed me persistently as 
 galtibtchik, " dear little dove," literally translated. 
 If I were to undertake to chronicle the inner life 
 of Tz&rskoe, the characteristics of the inhabitants 
 from whom I received favors and kind deeds without 
 number, information, and whatever else they could 
 think of to bestow or I could ask, I should never 
 have done. But there is much that is instructive in 
 all ranks of life to be gathered from a prolonged so- 
 journ in this "Imperial Village^' where world-famed 
 palaces have their echoes aroused at seven in the 
 morning by a gentle shepherd like the shepherd of 
 the remotest provincial hamlets, a strapping peasant 
 in a scarlet cotton blouse and blue homespun linen 
 trousers tucked into tall wrinkled boots, and armed 
 with a fish-horn, which he toots at the intersection of 
 the macadamized streets to assemble the village cat- 
 tle; where the strawberry peddler, recognizable by 
 the red cloth spread over the tray borne upon his 
 
A RUSSIAN SUMMER RESORT. 133 
 
 head, and the herring vender, and rival ice-cream 
 dealers deafen one with their cries, in true city fash- 
 ion ; where the fire department alarms one by setting 
 fire to the baker's chimneys opposite, and then play- 
 ing upon them, by way of cleaning them ; where 
 Tatars, soldiers, goats, cows, pet herons, rude peasant 
 carts, policemen, and inhabitants share the middle of 
 the road with the liveried equipages of royalty and 
 courtiers; where the crows and pigeons assert rights 
 equal to those of man, except that they go to roost at 
 eight o'clock on the nightless " white nights ; " and 
 where one never knows whether one will encounter 
 the Emperor of all the Russias or a barefooted Finn, 
 when one turns a corner. 
 
VII. 
 
 A STROLL IN MOSCOW WITH COUNT TOLSTOY. 
 
 " HAVE you ever visited a church of the Old Believ- 
 ers?" Count Tolstoy asked me one evening. We 
 were sitting round the supper-table at Count Tol- 
 st6y's house in Moscow. I was just experimenting 
 on some pickled mushrooms from Yasnaya Polyana, 
 the daintiest little mushrooms which I encountered 
 in that mushroom-eating land. The mushrooms and 
 question furnished a diversion which was needed. 
 The baby and younger children were in bed. The 
 elders of the family, some relatives, and ourselves had 
 been engaged in a lively discussion ; or, rather, I had 
 been discussing matters with the count, while the 
 others joined in from time to time. It began with 
 the Moscow beggars. 
 
 " I understand them now, and what you wrote of 
 them," I said. " I have neither the purse of Fortu- 
 natus nor a heart of flint. If I refuse their prayers, I 
 feel wicked ; if I give them five kopeks, I feel mean. 
 It seems too little to help them to anything but 
 vtidka; and if I give ten kopeks, they hold it out 
 at arm's length, look at it and me suspiciously; 
 and then I feel so provoked that I give not a copper 
 to any one for days. It seems to do no good." 
 
 " No," said Count Tolst6y with a troubled look ; 
 " it does no good. Giving money to any one who asks 
 is not doing good ; it is a mere civility. If a beggar 
 
A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 135 
 
 asks me for five kopeks, or five rubles, or five hun- 
 dred rubles, I must give it to him as a politeness, 
 nothing more, provided I have it about me. It prob- 
 ably always goes for v6dka." 
 
 " But what is one to do ? I have sometimes thought 
 that I would buy my man some bread and see that he 
 ate it when he specifies what the money is for. But, 
 by a singular coincidence, they never ask for bread- 
 money within eye-shot of a bakery. I suppose that it 
 would be better for me to take the trouble to hunt 
 one up and give the bread." 
 
 " No ; for you only buy the bread. It costs you 
 no personal labor." 
 
 " But suppose I had made the bread ? I can 
 make capital bread, only I cannot make it here where 
 I have no conveniences; so I give the money in- 
 stead." 
 
 " If you had made the bread, still you would not 
 have raised the grain, plowed, sowed, reaped, 
 threshed, and ground it. It would not be your labor." 
 
 " If that is the case, then I have just done a very 
 evil thing. I have made some caps for the Siberian 
 exiles in the Forwarding Prison. It would have been 
 better to let their shaved heads freeze." 
 
 " Why? You gave your labor, your-time. In that 
 time you could probably have done something that 
 would have pleased you better." 
 
 44 Certainly. But if one is to dig up the roots of 
 one's deeds and motives, mine might be put thus : 
 The caps were manufactured from remnants of wool 
 which were of no use to me and only encumbered 
 my trunk. I refused to go and deliver them myself. 
 They were put with a lot of other caps made from 
 scraps on equally vicious principles. And, moreover, 
 
136 A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 
 
 I neither plowed the land, sowed the grass, fed the 
 sheep, sheared him, cleansed and spun the wool, and 
 so on ; neither did I manufacture the needle for the 
 work." 
 
 The count retreated to his former argument, 
 that one's personal labor is the only righteous thing 
 which can be given to one's fellow-man ; and that the 
 labor must be given unquestioningly when asked for. 
 
 " But it cannot always be right to work unques- 
 tioningly. There are always plenty of people who 
 are glad to get their work done for them. That is 
 human nature." 
 
 " We have nothing to do with that," he answered. 
 " If a man asks me to build his house or plow his 
 field, I am bound to do it, just as I am bound to give 
 the beggar whatever he asks for, if I have it. It is no 
 business of mine why he asks me to do it." 
 
 " But suppose the man is lazy, or wants to get his 
 work done while he is idling, enjoying himself, or 
 earning money elsewhere for vtidka or what not ? I 
 do not object to helping the weak, or those who do 
 not attempt to shirk. One must use discrimination." 
 
 But Count Tolst6y persisted that the reason for 
 the request was no business of the man anxious to do 
 his duty by aiding his fellow-men, although his sensi- 
 ble wife came to my assistance by saying that she 
 always looked into the matter before giving help, on 
 the grounds which I had stated. So I attacked from 
 another quarter. 
 
 " Ought not every person to do as much as possi- 
 ble for himself, and not call upon others unless com- 
 pelled to do so ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Very good. I am strong, well, perfectly capable 
 
A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 137 
 
 of waiting on myself. But I detest putting on my 
 heavy Russian galoshes, and my big cloak ; and I 
 never do either when I can possibly avoid it. I have 
 no right to ask you to put on my galoshes, suppos- 
 ing that there were no lackey at hand. But suppose 
 I were to ask it ? " 
 
 " 1 would do it with pleasure,'' replied the count, 
 his earnest face relaxing into a smile. " I will mend 
 your boots, also, if you wish." 
 
 I thanked him, with regret that my boots were 
 whole, and pursued my point. " But you ought to 
 refuse. It would be your duty to teach me my duty 
 of waiting on myself. You would have no right to 
 encourage me in my evil ways." 
 
 We argued the matter on these lines. He started 
 from the conviction that one should follow the ex- 
 ample of Christ, who healed and helped all without 
 questioning their motives or deserts ; I taking the 
 ground that, while Christ " knew the heart of man," 
 man could not know the heart of his brother-man, 
 at least not always on first sight, though after- 
 ward he could make a tolerably shrewd guess as to 
 whether he was being used as a cat's-paw for the 
 encouragement of the shiftless. But he stuck firmly 
 to his " resist not evil " doctrine ; while I maintained 
 that the very doctrine admitted that it was " evil " 
 by making use of the word at all, hence a thing to 
 be preached and practiced against. Perhaps Count 
 Tolstoy had never been so unfortunate as to meet 
 certain specimens of the human race which it has 
 been my ill-luck to observe ; so we both still held 
 our positions, after a long skirmish, and silence 
 reigned for a few moments. Then the count asked, 
 with that winning air of good-will and interest which 
 is peculiar to him : 
 
138 A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 
 
 " Have you ever visited a church of the Old Be- 
 lievers ? " " 
 
 " No. They told me that there was one in Pe- 
 tersburg, but that I should not be admitted because 
 I wore a bonnet instead of a kerchief, and did not 
 know how to cross myself and bow properly." 
 
 " I '11 take you, if you like," be said. " We will 
 go as guests of the priest. He is a friend of mine." 
 Then he told us about it. Many years ago, a band 
 of Kazaks and their pi^ests migrated across the fron- 
 tier into Turkey because they were " Old Believers ; " 
 that is to say, they belonged to the sect which re- 
 fused to accept the reforms of errors (which had 
 crept into the service-books and ritual through the 
 carelessness of copyists and ignorance of the proper 
 forms) instituted by the Patriarch Nikon in the time 
 of Peter the Great's father, after consulting the 
 Greek Patriarchs and books. In earlier times, these 
 Old Believers burned themselves by the thousand. 
 In the present century, this b;md of Kazaks simply 
 emigrated. Then came the Crimean war. The Ka- 
 zaks set out for the wars, the priest blessed them 
 for the campaign, and prayed for victory against 
 Russia. Moreover, they went to battle with their 
 flock, and were captured. Prisoners of war, traitors 
 to both church and state, these three priests were 
 condemned to residence in a monastery in Suzdal. 
 " I was in the army then," said Count Tolst6y, " and 
 heard of the matter at the time. Then I forgot all 
 about it ; so did everybody else, apparently. Long 
 afterward, an Old Believer, a merchant in Tula, 
 spoke to me about it, and I found that the three 
 priests were still alive and in the monastery. I man- 
 aged to get them released, and we became friends. 
 
A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 139 
 
 One died ; one of the others is here in Moscow, a 
 very old man now. We will go and see him, but I 
 must find out the hour of the evening service. You 
 will see the ritual as it was three hundred years ago." 
 
 " You must not utter a word, or smile," said one of 
 the company. " They will think that you are ridi- 
 culing them, and will turn you out." 
 
 " Oh, no," said the count. " Still, it is better not 
 to speak." 
 
 " I have had some experience," I remarked. " Last 
 Sunday, at the Saviour Cathedral, I asked my mother 
 if I should hold her heavy fur coat for her ; and 
 she smiled slightly as she said, 4 No, thank you.' A 
 peasant heard our foreign tongue, saw the smile, and 
 really alarmed us by the fierce way in which he glared 
 at us. We only appeased his wrath by bowing low 
 when the priest came out with the incense." 
 
 So that plan was made, and some others. 
 
 When we were descending the stairs, Count Tol- 
 st6y came out upon the upper landing, which is dec- 
 orated with the skin of the big bear which figures in 
 one of his stories, and called after us : 
 
 " Shall you be ashamed of my dress when I come 
 to the hotel for you ? " 
 
 " I am ashamed that you should ask such a ques- 
 tion," I answered ; and he laughed and retreated. 
 I allowed the lackey to put on my galoshes and coat, 
 as usual, by the way. 
 
 The next afternoon there came a series of remark- 
 able knocks upon our door, like a volley of artillery, 
 which carried me across the room in one bound. 
 Servants, messengers, and the like, so rarely knock 
 in Russia that one gets into the way of expecting 
 to see the door open without warning at any moment, 
 
140 A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 
 
 when it is not locked, and rather forgets what to do 
 with a knock when a caller comes directly to one's 
 room and announces himself in the ordinary way. 
 There stood Count Tolstoy. He wore a peasant's 
 sheepskin coat (tul{ip). The tulup, I will explain, 
 is a garment consisting of a fitted body and a full, 
 ballet skirt, gathered on the waist line and reaching 
 to the knees. The wool is worn on the inside. The 
 tanned leather exterior varies, when new, from snow 
 white to gray, pale or deep yellow, or black, accord- 
 ing to taste. A little colored chain-stitching in pat- 
 terns on the breast and round the neck gives firm- 
 ness where required. In this case the tulup was of 
 a deep yellow hue ; over it streamed his gray beard ; 
 peasant boots of gray felt, reaching to the knee, and 
 a gray wool cap of domestic manufacture completed 
 his costume. 
 
 " It is too cold for our expedition, and I am afraid 
 that I started a little late also," he said, as he di- 
 vested himself of his sheepskin. " I will find out the 
 exact hour of service, and we will go on Christmas 
 Eve." 
 
 It was only 15 to 20 below zero Fahrenheit, and 
 I felt inclined to remonstrate. But it is useless to 
 argue with a Russian about the thermometer ; and, 
 moreover, I discovered that the count had come all 
 the long way on foot, and was probably afraid of 
 freezing us. I politely but not quite truthfully agreed 
 that Christmas Eve was a better time. 
 
 Presently he proposed to go to the shop where 
 books for popular reading are published by the mil- 
 lion at from one and a half to five kopeks. He had 
 business there in connection with some popular edi- 
 tions of the masterpieces of all ages and literatures. 
 
A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 141 
 
 The temperature of our room was 65, but the 
 count's felt boots and a cardigan jacket, worn over 
 his ordinary costume of dark blue trousers and strap- 
 belted blouse, made him uncomfortable, and he sought 
 coolness in the hall while we donned our outdoor 
 garments. The only concession in the way of cos- 
 tume which I could make to suit the occasion was to 
 use a wool instead of a fur cap. 
 
 This was not sufficient to prevent us from being a 
 remarkable trio in the eyes of all beholders, begin- 
 ning with the real muzhik (" boots ") and the waiter, 
 who were peering round corners in disapproval. Our 
 appearance at the door effected a miracle. I could 
 not believe my ears, but not one of the numerous 
 cabbies standing in front of the hotel opened his lips 
 to offer his services. Ordinarily, we had to run the 
 gauntlet of offers. On this occasion the men simply 
 ranged themselves in a silent, gaping row, and let us 
 pass in peace. I had not supposed that anything 
 could quell a Russian cabby's tongue. Did they rec- 
 ognize the count ? I doubt it. I had been told that 
 every one in Moscow knew him and his costume; 
 but diligent inquiry of my cabbies always elicited a 
 negative. In one single instance the man added : 
 " But the count 's a good gentleman and a very inti- 
 mate friend of a chum of mine ! " 
 
 " Are you a good walker ? " nsked the count, as he 
 plied his thick stick, evidently recently cut in the 
 grove adjoining his house. " I walk everywhere 
 myself. I never ride ; I can't, for I never have any 
 money." 
 
 I announced myself as a crack pedestrian, but 
 not when burdened with Russian coat and galoshes. 
 And I added: " I hope that you do not expect us to 
 
142 A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 
 
 walk all those versts to church, because we must 
 stand through the whole service afterward ; they 
 would be too strict to allow us chairs." 
 
 " We will go in the horse-cars, then," he replied. 
 " But this constant use of horses is a relic of bar- 
 barism. As we are growing more civilized, in ten 
 years from now horses will have gone out of use en- 
 tirely. But I am sure that, in enlightened Amer- 
 ica, you do not ride so much as we do here." 
 
 Familiar as I am with Count Tolst<5y's theories, 
 this was a brand-new one to me. I thought of sev- 
 eral answers. Bicycles I rejected as a suggestion, 
 because the physical labor seems to be counterbal- 
 anced by the cost of the steel steed. I also restrained 
 myself from saying that we were coming to look upon 
 horses as a rather antiquated, slow, and unreliable 
 mode of locomotion. I did not care to destroy the 
 count's admiration for American ways too suddenly 
 and ruthlessly, so I said : 
 
 " I think that people ride more and more, with us, 
 every year. If they do not ride even more than they 
 do, it is because we have not these thousands of de- 
 lightful and cheap carriages and sledges. And how 
 are people to get about, how are burdens to be car- 
 ried, how is the day long enough, if one goes every- 
 where on foot ? Are the horses to be left to people 
 the earth, along with the animals which we now eat 
 and which we must give up eating ? " 
 
 " That will regulate itself. It is only those who 
 have nothing to do who have no time to do it in, and 
 must be carried, in all haste, from place to place. 
 Busy people always have time for everything." And 
 the count proceeded to develop this argument. The 
 foundation, of course, was the same as for his other 
 
A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 143 
 
 doctrines, the dependence on one's self, freeing 
 others from bondage to his wants and whims. The 
 principle is excellent ; but it would be easier for most 
 of us to resist the temptation to do otherwise on a 
 desert island, than to lead such a Robinson Crusoe 
 and physical encyclopedic existence in a city of to- 
 day. This is almost the only argument which I felt 
 capable of offering in opposition. 
 
 Thus we discussed, as we walked along the streets 
 of China Town. When the sidewalk was narrow, the 
 count took to the gutter. And so we came to the 
 old wall and the place where there is a perennial 
 market, which bears various names, the Pushing 
 Market, the Louse Market, and so on, and which 
 is said to be the resort of thieves and receivers of 
 stolen goods. Strangers always hit upon it the first 
 thing. We had ventured into its borders alone, had 
 chatted with a cobbler, inspected the complete work- 
 shop on the sidewalk, priced the work, " real, ar- 
 tistic, high-priced jobs were worth thirty to forty 
 kopeks," had promised to fetch our boots to be 
 repaired with tacks and whipcord, " when they 
 needed it," and had received an unblushing appeal 
 for a bottle of vtidka in which to drink the health 
 of ourselves and the cobblers. With true feminine 
 faith in the efficacy of a man's presence, we now en- 
 joyed the prospect of going through the middle of it, 
 for its entire length. I related the cobbler episode 
 to explain why I did not give the count a job, and 
 the count seemed to find no little difficulty in not 
 laughing outright. 
 
 Imagine a very broad street, extending for several 
 blocks, flanked on one side by respectable buildings, 
 on the other by the old, battlemented city wall, 
 
144 A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 
 
 crowned with straggling bushes, into which are builfc 
 tiny houses with a frontage of two or three windows, 
 and the two stories so low that one fancies that lie 
 could easily touch their roofs. These last are the 
 real old Moscow merchant houses of two or three 
 hundred years ago. They still serve as shops and 
 residences, the lower floor being crammed with cheap 
 goods and old clothes of wondrous hues and patterns, 
 which overflow upon the very curbstone. The signs 
 of the fur stores, with their odd pictures of peasant 
 coats and fashionable mantles, add an advertisement 
 of black sheepskins which precisely resemble rudely 
 painted turtles. In the broad, place-like street surged 
 a motley, but silent and respectful crowd. A Rus- 
 sian crowd always is a marvel of quietness, as far 
 down as the elbows, no farther ! Along the middle 
 of the place stood rows of rough tables, boxes, and 
 all sorts of receptacles, containing every variety of 
 bread and indescribable meats and sausages. Men 
 strolled about with huge brass teapots of sbiten (a 
 drink of honey, laurel leaves, spices, etc.), steaming 
 hot. Men with trays suspended by straps from their 
 necks offered " delicious " snacks, meat patties kept 
 hot in hot-water boxes, served in a gaudy saucer and 
 flooded with hot bouillon from a brass flask attached 
 to their girdles behind ; or sandwiches made from a 
 roll, split, buttered, and clapped upon a slice of very 
 red, raw-looking sausage, fresh from the water-box. 
 But we did not feel hungry just then, or thirsty. 
 
 " There are but two genuine Russian titles," said 
 the count, as we walked among the merchants, where 
 the women were dressed like the men in sheepskin 
 coats, and distinguished only by a brief scrap of 
 gay petticoat, and a gay kerchief instead of a cap on 
 
A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 145 
 
 the head, while some of the dealers in clothing in- 
 dulged in overcoats and flat caps with visors, of dark 
 blue cloth. " Now, if I address one of these men, 
 he will call me bdtiushka, and he will call you ma- 
 tushka." 1 
 
 We began to price shoes, new and old, and so forth, 
 with the result which the count had predicted. 
 
 " You can get very good clothing here," the count 
 remarked, as a man passed us, his arm passed through 
 the armholes of a pile of new vests. " These mit- 
 tens," exhibiting the coarse, white-fingered mittens 
 which he wore, piles of the same and stockings to 
 match being beside us, " are very stout and warm. 
 They cost only thirty kopeks. And the other day, 
 I bought a capital shirt here, for a man, at fifty 
 kopeks" (about twenty-five cents). 
 
 I magnanimously refrained from applying to that 
 shirt the argument which had been used against my 
 suggestion in regard to giving bread. This market 
 goes on every day in the year, hot or cold, rain, sun, 
 or shine. It is a model of neatness. Roofs impro- 
 vised from scraps of canvas protect the delicate (?) 
 eatables during inclement weather. In very severe 
 weather the throng is smaller, the first to beat a 
 retreat being, apparently, the Tatars In their odd 
 kaftans " cut goring," as old women say, who deal in 
 old clothes, lambskins, and "beggars' lace." Other- 
 wise, it is always the same. 
 
 Our publisher's shop proved to be closed, in accord- 
 ance with the law, which permits trading in build- 
 ings only between twelve and three o'clock on 
 Sundays. On our way home the count expressed 
 
 1 A respectfully affectionate diminutive, equivalent to dear little 
 father, dear little mother. 
 
146 A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 
 
 his regret at the rapid decline of the republican 
 idea in America, and the surprising growth of the 
 baneful " aristocratic " not to say snobbish 
 sense. His deductions were drawn from articles in 
 various recent periodical publications, and from the 
 general tone of the American works which had come 
 under his observation. I have heard a good deal 
 from other Russians about the snobbishness of Amer- 
 icans ; but they generally speak of it with aversion, 
 not, as did Count Tolstdy, with regret at a splendid 
 opportunity missed by a whole nation. 
 
 I am sorry to say that we never got our expedi- 
 tion to the Old Believers' Church, or the others that 
 were planned. Two days later, the count was taken 
 with an attack of liver complaint, dyspepsia, - 
 caused, I am sure, by too much pedestrian exercise 
 on a vegetable diet, which does not agree with him, 
 and a bad cold. We attended Christmas Eve ser- 
 vice in the magnificent new Cathedral of the Saviour, 
 and left Moscow before the count was able to go out- 
 of-doors again, though not without seeing him once 
 more. 
 
 I am aware that it has become customary of late 
 to call Count Tolst6y "crazy," or "not quite right in 
 the head," etc. The inevitable conclusion of any one 
 who talks much with him is that he is nothing of 
 the sort ; but simply a man with a hobby, or an idea. 
 His idea happens to be one which, granting that it 
 ought to be adopted by everybody, is still one which 
 is very difficult of adoption by anybody, pecul- 
 iarly difficult in his own case. And it is an uncom- 
 fortable theory of self-denial which very few people 
 like to have preached to them in any form. Add to 
 this that his philosophical expositions of his theory 
 
A STROLL IN MOSCOW. 147 
 
 Jack the clearness which generally not always 
 results from a course of strict preparatory training, 
 ami we have more than sufficient foundation for the 
 reports of his mental aberration. On personal ac- 
 quaintance he proves to be a remarkably earnest, 
 thoroughly convinced, and winning man, although he 
 does not deliberately do or say anything to attract 
 one. His very earnestness is provocative of argu- 
 ment. 1 
 
 1 From The Independent. 
 
VIII. 
 
 COUNT TOLST(5Y AT HOME. 
 
 ON one winter's day in Moscow, the Countess Tol- 
 st6y said to us : " You musfc come and visit us at 
 Ydsnaya Poly&na next summer. You should see Rus- 
 sian country life, and you will see it with us. Our 
 house is not elegant, but you will find it plain, clean, 
 and comfortable." 
 
 Such an invitation was not to be resisted. When 
 summer came, the family wrote to say that they 
 would meet us at the nearest station, where no car- 
 riages were to be had by casual travelers, if we would 
 notify them of our arrival. But the weather had 
 been too bad for country visits, and we were afraid 
 to give Fate a hint of our intentions by announcing 
 our movements ; moreover, all the trains seemed to 
 reach that station at a very late hour of the night. 
 We decided to make our appearance f rom another 
 quarter, in our own conveyance, on a fair day, and 
 long before any meal. If it should prove inconven- 
 ient for the family to receive us, they would not be 
 occasioned even momentary awkwardness, and our 
 retreat would be secured. We had seen enough of 
 the charmingly easy Russian hospitality to feel sure 
 of our ground otherwise. 
 
 Accordingly, we set out for Tula on a June day 
 that was dazzling with sunshine and heat, after the 
 autumnal chill of the recent rains. As we progressed 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 149 
 
 southward from Moscow the country was more varied 
 than north of it, with ever-changing vistas of gently 
 sloping hills and verdant valleys, well cultivated, 
 and dotted with thatched cottages which stood flat- 
 ter on the ground here than where wood is more 
 plentiful. 
 
 The train was besieged at every station, during 
 the long halts customary on Russian railways, by 
 hordes of peasant children with bottles of rich cream 
 and dishes of fragrant wild strawberries. The straw- 
 berries cost from three to four cents a pound, not 
 enough to pay for picking, and the cream from 
 three to five cents a bottle. 
 
 Halfway to Tula the train crosses the river Ok&, 
 which makes so fine a show when it enters the Volga 
 at Nizhni Novgorod, and which even here is impos- 
 ing in breadth and busy with steamers. It was not 
 far from here that an acquaintance of mine one day 
 overtook a wayfarer. He was weather-beaten and 
 travel-stained, dressed like a peasant, and carried his 
 boots slung over his shoulder. But there was some- 
 thing about him which, to her woman's eye, seemed 
 out of keeping with his garb. She invited him to take 
 advantage of her carriage. He accepted gladly, and 
 conversed agreeably. It appeared that it was Count 
 Tulst6y making the journey between his estate and 
 Moscow. His utterances produced such an effect 
 upon her young son that the lad insisted upon mak- 
 ing his next journey on foot also. 
 
 We reached Tula late in the evening. The guide- 
 book says, in that amusing German fashion on which 
 a chapter might be written, that " the town lies fif- 
 teen minutes distant from the station." Ordinarily, 
 that would mean twice or thrice fifteen minutes. 
 
150 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 But we had a touch of our usual luck in an eccentric 
 cabman. Vanka that is, Johnny set out almost 
 before we had taken our seats ; we clutched his belt 
 for support, and away we flew through the inky 
 darkness and fathomless dust, outstripping every- 
 thing on the road. We came to a bridge ; one wheel 
 skimmed along high on the side rail, the loose boards 
 rattled ominously beneath the other. There are no 
 regulations for slow driving on Russian bridges be- 
 yond those contained in admonitory proverbs and 
 popular legends. One's eyes usually supply sufficient 
 warning by day. But V&nka was wedded to the 
 true Russian principle, and proceeded in his head- 
 long course na av6s (on chance). In vain I cried, 
 " This is not an obstacle race ! " He replied cheer- 
 fully, " It is the horse ! " 
 
 We were forced to conclude that we had stumbled 
 upon the hero of Count Tolstoy's story, Kh61stomir, 
 in that gaunt old horse, racing thus by inspiration, 
 and looking not unlike the portrait of Kholstomir in 
 his sad old age, from the hand of the finest animal- 
 painter in Russia, which, with its companion piece, 
 Kholstomir in his proud youth, hangs on the wall in 
 the count's Moscow house. 
 
 Our mad career ended at what Vanka declared to 
 be the best hotel ; the one recommended by the guide- 
 book had been closed for years, he said. I, who had 
 not found the guide-book infallible, believed him, 
 until he landed us at one which looked well enough, 
 but whose chief furnishing was smells of such po- 
 tency that I fled, handkerchief clapped to nose, while 
 the limp waiter, with his jaw bound up like a figure 
 from a German picture-book, called after me that 
 " perhaps the drains were a little out of order." 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 151 
 
 Thrifty Vdnka, in hopes of a commission, or bent 
 upon paying off a grudge, still obstinately refused to 
 take us to the hotel recommended ; but a hint of 
 application to the police decided him to deposit us 
 at another door. This proved to be really the 
 best house in town, though it does not grace the 
 printed list. It was on the usual plan of inns in 
 Russian country towns. There was the large, airy 
 dining-room, with clean lace curtains, polished floor, 
 and table set with foliage plants in fancy pots ; 
 the bedrooms, with single iron beds, reservoir wash- 
 stands, and no bed linen or towels without extra 
 charge. 
 
 The next morning we devoted to the few sights of 
 the town. The Kremlin, on flat ground and not of 
 imposing size, makes very little impression after the 
 Moscow Kremlin ; but its churches exhibit some 
 charming new fancies in onion-shaped cupolas which 
 we had not noticed elsewhere, and its cathedral con- 
 tains frescoes of a novel sort. In subject they are 
 pretty equally divided between the Song of Solomon 
 and the (Ecumenical Councils, with a certain num- 
 ber of saints, of course, though these are fewer than 
 usual. The artist was evidently a man who en- 
 joyed rich stuffs of flowered patterns, and beautiful 
 women. 
 
 The Imperial Firearms Factory we did not see. 
 We had omitted to obtain from the Minister of War 
 that permission without which no foreigner of either 
 sex can enter, though Russians may do so freely, and 
 we did not care enough about it to await the reply to 
 a telegram. We contented ourselves with assuring 
 the officer in charge that we were utter simpletons in 
 the matter of firearms, afraid of guns even when 
 
152 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 they were not loaded, I presume he did not under- 
 stand that allusion, and that it was pure curiosity 
 of travelers which had led us to invade his office. 
 
 However, there was no dearth of shops where we 
 could inspect all the wares in metal for which this 
 Russian Birmingham has been celebrated ever since 
 the industry was founded by men from Plolland, in 
 the sixteenth century. In the matter of samovars, 
 especially, there is a wide range of choice in this 
 cradle of "the portable domestic hearth," although 
 there are only two or three among the myriad manu- 
 facturers whose goods are famed for that solidity of 
 brass and tin which insures against dents, fractures, 
 and poisoning. 
 
 During the morning we ordered round a trti'ika 
 from the posting-house. It did not arrive. Proba- 
 bly it was asleep, like most other things on that 
 warm day. It was too far off to invite investiga- 
 tion, and sallying forth after breakfast to hire an 
 izvtistchik, I became a blessed windfall to a couple 
 of bored policemen, who waked up a cabman for 
 me and took a kindly interest in the inevitable bar- 
 gaining which ensued. While this was in progress, 
 up came two dusty and tattered "pilgrims," "re- 
 ligious tramps " will designate their character with 
 perfect accuracy, who were sufficiently wide awake 
 to beg. I positively had not a kopek in change ; but 
 not even a Russian beggar would believe that. I 
 parried the attack. 
 
 " I 'm not an Orthodox Christian, my good men. 
 I am sure that you do not want money from a 
 heretic." 
 
 "Never mind; I'm a bachelor," replied one of 
 them bravely and consolingly. 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 153 
 
 When we had all somewhat recovered from this, 
 the policemen, catching the spirit of the occasion, 
 explained to the men that I and my money were 
 extremely dangerous to the Orthodox, both families 
 and bachelors, especially to pious pilgrims to the 
 shrines, such as they were, and they gently but 
 firmly compelled the men to move on, despite their 
 vehement protestations that they were willing to run 
 the risk and accept the largest sort of change from the 
 heretic. But I was obdurate. I knew from experi- 
 ence that for five kopeks, or less, I should receive 
 thanks, reverences to the waist or even to the ground ; 
 but that the gift of more than five kopeks would re- 
 sult in a thankless, suspicious stare, which would 
 make me feel guilty of some enormous undefined 
 crime. This was Count Tolst6y's experience also. 
 We devoted ourselves to cabby once more. 
 
 Such a winning fellow as that Vanka was, from 
 the very start ! After I had concluded the bargain 
 for an extra horse and an apron which his carriage 
 lacked, he persuaded me that one horse was enough 
 at the price of two. To save time I yielded, de- 
 ducting twenty-five cents only from the sum agreed 
 on, lest I should appear too easily cheated. That 
 sense of being ridiculed as an inexperienced simple- 
 ton, when I had merely paid my interlocutor the 
 compliment of trusting him, never ceased to be a 
 pain and a terror to me. 
 
 The friendly policemen smiled impartially upon 
 Vanka and us, as they helped to pack us in the 
 drosky. 
 
 Tula as we saw it on our way out, and as we had 
 seen it during our morning stroll, did not look like a 
 town of sixty-four thousand inhabitants, or an inter- 
 
154 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 esting place of residence. It was a good type of 
 the provincial Russian town. There were the broad 
 unpaved, or badly paved, dusty streets. There were 
 the stone official buildings, glaring white in the sun, 
 interspersed with wooden houses, ranging from the 
 pretentious dwelling to the humble shelter of logs. 
 
 For fifteen versts (ten miles) after we had left all 
 these behind us, we drove through a lovely rolling 
 country, on a fine macadamized highway leading to 
 the south and to KiefL The views were wide, fresh, 
 and fair. Hayfields, plowed fields, fields of green 
 oats, yellowing rye, blue-flowered flax, with birch 
 and leaf trees in small groves near at hand, and for- 
 ests in the distance, varied the scene. Evergreens 
 were rarer here, and oak-trees more plentiful, than 
 north of Moscow. The grass by the roadside was 
 sown thickly with wild flowers: Canterbury bells, 
 campanulas, yarrow pink and white, willow -weed 
 (good to adulterate tea), yellow daisies, spiraea, pinks, 
 corn-flowers, melilot, honey -sweet galium, yellow 
 everlasting, huge deep-crimson crane's-bill, and hosts 
 of others. 
 
 Throughout this sweet drive my merry izvtistchik 
 delighted me with his discourse. It began thus. I 
 asked, " Did he know Count Tolstoy ? " 
 
 " Did he know Count Tolstoy ? Everybody knew 
 him. He was the first gentleman in the empire [!]. 
 There was not another such man in all the land." 
 
 " Could he read ? Had he read the count's 
 'Tales'?" 
 
 " Yes. He had read every one of the count's books 
 that he could lay his hands on. Did I mean the 
 little books with the colored covers and the pictures 
 on the outside ? " (He alluded to the little peasant 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 155 
 
 " Tales " in their original cheap form, costing two or 
 three cents apiece.) " Unfortunately they were for- 
 bidden, or not to be had at the Tula shops, and 
 though there were libraries which had them, they 
 were not for such as he." l 
 
 u How had they affected him ? Why, he had 
 learned to love all the world better. He knew that 
 it' he had a bit of bread he must share it with his 
 neighbor, even if he did find it hard work to support 
 his wife and four small children. Had such a need 
 arisen ? Yes ; and he had given his children's bread 
 to others." (He pretended not to hear when I in- 
 quired why he had not given his own share of the 
 bread.) " Was he a more honest man than before ? 
 Oh, yes, yes, indeed ! He would not take a kopek 
 from any one unless he were justly entitled to it." 
 
 "And Count Tolstoy! A fine man, that! The 
 Emperor had conferred upon him the right to release 
 prisoners from the jail, had I noticed the big jail, 
 on the left hand as we drove out of town ?" (I took 
 the liberty to doubt this legend, in strict privacy.) 
 u Tula was a very bad place ; there were many pris- 
 
 1 At this time, in Moscow, the sidewalk bookstalls, such as this 
 man would have been likely to patronize, could not furuish a full set 
 of the Tales in the cheap form. The venders said that they were 
 "forbidden ;" but since they openly displayed and sold such as they 
 had, and since any number of complete sets could be obtained at the 
 publishers' hard by, the prohibition evidently extended only to the 
 issue of a fresh edition. Meanwhile, the Tales complete in one vol- 
 ume were not forbidden. This volume, one of the set of the author's 
 works published by his wife, cost fifty kopeks (about twenty-five cents), 
 not materially more than the other sort. As there was a profit to the 
 family on this edition, and none on the cheap edition, the withdrawal 
 of the latter may have been merely a private business arrangement, 
 to be expected under the circumstances, and the cry of " prohibi- 
 tion " may have been employed as a satisfactory and unanswerable 
 tradesman's excuse for not being supplied with the goods desired. 
 
156 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 oners. Men went to the bad there from the lack of 
 something to do." (This man was a philosopher, it 
 seemed.) 
 
 So he ran on enthusiastically, twisting round in his 
 seat, letting his horse do as it would, and talking in 
 that soft, gentle, charming way to which a dozen ad- 
 jectives would fail to do justice, and which appears to 
 be the heritage of almost every Russian, high or low. 
 It was an uncomfortable attitude for us, because it left 
 us nowhere to put our smiles, and we would not for 
 the world have had him suspect that he amused us. 
 
 But the gem of his discourse dropped from his lips 
 when I asked him what, in his opinion, would be the 
 result if Count Tolst<5y could reconstruct the world 
 on his plan. 
 
 " Why, naturally," he replied, " if all men were 
 equal, I should not be driving you, for example. I 
 should have my own horse and cow and property, and 
 I should do no work ! " 
 
 I must say that, on reflection, I was not surprised 
 that he should have reached this rather astonishing 
 conclusion. I have no doubt that all of his kind 
 and it is not a stupid kind, by any means think 
 the same. I tried to tell him about America, where 
 we were all equals in theory (I omitted " theory "), 
 and yet where some of us still " drive other people," 
 figuratively speaking. But he only laughed and 
 shook his head, and said he did not believe that all 
 men were equal in such a land any more than they 
 were in Russia. That was the sort of wall against 
 which I was always being brought up, with a more 
 or less painful bump, when I attempted to elucidate 
 the institutions of this land of liberty. He seemed 
 to have it firmly fixed in his brain that, although 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 157 
 
 Count Tolst6y worked in the fields " like one of us 
 poor brethren," he really did no work whatever. 
 
 Thus did I obtain a foretaste of the views held by 
 the peasant class upon the subject of Count Tolst6y's 
 scheme of reformation, since this man was a peasant 
 himself from one of the neighboring villages, and an 
 average representative of their modes of thought. 
 
 At last we reached the stone gateposts which mark 
 the entrance to the park of Y&snaya Polyana (Clear- 
 field), and drove up the formerly splendid and still 
 beautiful avenue of huge white birch-trees, from 
 whose ranks many had fallen or been felled. The 
 avenue terminated near the house in hedges of lilacs 
 and acacias. 
 
 Most of the family were away in the fields, or bath- 
 ing in the river. But we were cordially received, 
 assured that our visit was well timed and that there 
 were no guests, and were installed in the room of 
 the count's eldest son, who was at his business in St. 
 Petersburg. 
 
 Then I paid and dismissed the beaming Vanka, 
 whose name chanced to be Alexei, adding liberal 
 " tea-money " for his charming manners and conver- 
 sation. My sympathy with the hardship of being 
 unable to procure books had moved me so deeply that 
 I had already asked the man for his address, and had" 
 promised to send him a complete set of the count's 
 ' Tales " from Moscow. 
 
 We parted with the highest opinion of each other. 
 Alas ! a day or two later one of the count's daugh- 
 ters happened to inquire how much I had paid for 
 the carriage, probably in consequence of former ex- 
 periences, and informed me that I had given just 
 twice as much as any cabman in Tula would have 
 
158 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 been glad to take. (The boredom of those police- 
 men must have been relieved by another smile be- 
 hind our backs.) Then I repeated my conversation 
 with that delicately conscientious izv6%tchik, nurtured 
 on the " Tales," and mentioned my promise. Even 
 the grave count was forced to laugh, and I declared 
 that I should be afraid to send the set of books, 
 for fear of the consequences. 
 
 When we were ready, being unfamiliar with the 
 house, we asked the maid to conduct us to the count- 
 ess. She took this in its literal sense, and ushered 
 us into the bedroom where the countess was dressing, 
 an introduction to country life which was certainly 
 informal enough. 
 
 We dined at a long table under the trees at a little 
 distance from the house. The breeze sifted the tiny 
 papery birch seeds into our soup and water. Clouds 
 rolled up, and at every threat of the sky we grasped 
 our plates, prepared to make a dash for the house. 
 
 The count, who had been mowing, appeared at din- 
 ner in a grayish blouse and trousers, and a soft white 
 linen cap. He looked even more weather-beaten in 
 complexion than he had in Moscow during the win- 
 ter, if that were possible. His broad shoulders 
 seemed to preserve in their enhanced stoop a memory 
 t)f recent toil. His manner, a combination of gentle 
 simplicity, awkward half-conquered consciousness, and 
 half-discarded polish, was as cordial as ever. His 
 piercing gray-green-blue eyes had lost none of their 
 almost saturnine and withal melancholy expression. 
 His sons were clad in the pretty blouse suits of coarse 
 gray linen which are so common in Russia in the 
 summer, and white linen caps. 
 
 After dinner, on that first evening, the countess 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 159 
 
 invited us to go to the fields and see her husband at 
 work. He had not observed the good old recipe, 
 "After dinner, rest awhile," but had set off again 
 immediately, and we had been eager to follow him. 
 We hunted for him through several meadows, and 
 finally came upon him in a sloping orchard lot, seated 
 under the trees, in a violent perspiration. He had 
 wasted no time, evidently. He was resting, and chat- 
 ting with half a dozen peasants of assorted ages. It 
 appeared that he had made a toilet for dinner, since 
 he now wore a blue blouse faded with frequent wash- 
 ing, and ornamented with new dark blue patches on 
 the shoulders. It was the same blouse with which 
 Re pin's portrait of him engaged in plowing had al- 
 ready made us familiar. 
 
 We talked with the peasants. They remained 
 seated, and gave no greeting. I do not think they 
 would have done so on any other estate in Russia. It 
 is not that the count has inspired his humble neigh- 
 bors with a higher personal sense of independence 
 and the equality of man ; all Russian peasants are 
 pretty well advanced along that path already, and 
 they possess a natural dignity which prevents their 
 asserting themselves in an unpleasant manner except 
 in rare cases. When they rise or salute, it is out of 
 politeness, and with no more servility than the same 
 act implies in an officer of the Guards in presence of 
 a Court dame. The omission on this occasion inter- 
 ested me as significant. 
 
 The conversation turned upon the marriage of one 
 of the younger men, which was to come off in a neigh- 
 boring village two days later, at the conclusion of the 
 fast of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. A middle-aged 
 peasant took up the subject in a rather unpleasant and 
 
160 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 not very respectful manner, saying that he saw no use 
 for priests, who had everything provided for them (no, 
 gatdvayu rtiku), and charged so high for baptizing 
 and marrying. 
 
 " They demand seven rubles for marrying this 
 fellow," said he. " I '11 do it for a ruble, and be 
 glad to." 
 
 " If it is so easy, go pass your examinations and 
 become a priest at once," replied the countess. 
 
 " I don't know enough for that." 
 
 " Then go hire yourself out as a clown. You are 
 always making bad jokes." 
 
 The man was subdued. The count took no part 
 in this conversation, and looked somewhat disturbed 
 when the other men joined disagreeably in the laugh 
 against their comrade. He turned the subject. 
 
 " Look at the oldest of these men," he said to us 
 in English. " He has lost the first joint of all the 
 fingers on one hand from frost." 
 
 He was a weak-looking, withered little man, but 
 when they began to mow again, at the count's sug- 
 gestion, he grasped his scythe as well as any of them. 
 The scythes were short, thick, straight, looked very 
 heavy, and were set on very long, straight handles, 
 so that it was not necessary to stoop in mowing. 
 
 We watched the party for a while. The count 
 made good progress over the uneven ground and thin 
 grass, as though he were used to the work which he 
 has described so inimitably in " Anna Karenin." 
 (Another reminder of this book is the old nurse of 
 Levin, who still lives on the place, has charge of the 
 dogs because she is fond of animals, and carries her 
 mania to the extent of feeding and petting the black 
 beetles. The grave of Karl Ivanovitch, the tutor in 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 161 
 
 " Childhood, Boyhood, Youth," which lies in the 
 cemetery a mile or two distant, is another memento of 
 his writings.) As we strolled back to the house, we 
 paused to look at the long white stables, the thatched 
 granary with walls of wattled tree boughs, and other 
 farm buildings. In the space between the house and 
 the dining-table we found the children, with their 
 cousins, the French tutor, and the English governess, 
 engaged in a game of ball called wdpta^ which in- 
 volves much running and some skill. 
 
 To this table the samovar was brought about half 
 past seven, and the early tea, the children's tea, was 
 served at twilight in the open air heavy with the 
 perfume of the linden-trees. Late tea was always 
 served in the house, in the large hall, accompanied by 
 various viands, and by wild strawberries fetched by 
 the peasant children. 
 
 That evening the count talked to me chiefly about 
 the pamphlets on the Hopedale community and the 
 peace doctrines advocated by Adin Ballon, which had 
 been sent to him shortly before from America. He 
 had then learned for the first time that his princi- 
 ples in that direction had been anticipated, and he 
 seemed to be genuinely gratified to know that this was 
 the case. He prophesied that this movement in favor 
 of non-resistance would attract much more attention in 
 the future than it has attracted in the past. The fate 
 of Mr. Ballon 's community did not seem to shake his 
 faith. 
 
 Naturally, the house was the first point which en- 
 gaged our attention. In 1860, Count Tolstoy, being 
 then thirty-two years of age, made up his mind unal- 
 terably that he would never marry. All the world 
 knows that when the count has irrevocably deter- 
 
162 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 mined upon anything be immediately furnishes sub- 
 stantial proof of his convictions. On this occasion 
 his demonstration took the form of selling the manor 
 house, which was taken down and set up again on 
 another estate in the same government by the pur- 
 chaser. The wings of the former house alone re- 
 mained, detached buildings, such as were used in the 
 olden days to accommodate the embroiderers, weav- 
 ers, peasant musicians and actors of the private 
 troupes kept by wealthy grandees, as a theatre, or as 
 extra apartments. The count occupied one of these 
 wings. 
 
 Two years later, he changed his mind and married. 
 He brought his beautiful bride of half his age to this 
 tiny wing, it chanced to be tiny in this case, and 
 there she lived for seventeen years. The horrible 
 loneliness of it, especially in winter, with not a neigh- 
 bor for miles, unless one reckon the village at the 
 park gate, which could not have furnished anything 
 but human beings, and never a congenial companion 
 for her ! Needless to say that she never had on a 
 low-bodied gown, never went to the theatre or a ball, 
 in all her fair young life ; and to the loneliness of the 
 country must be added the absolute loneliness during 
 the absences of the count, who had much reading to 
 do in Moscow for the historical portions of his great 
 war drama. When he got tired of his village school, 
 of his experiments upon the infant peasant mind, of 
 things in general, he could and did go away for rest. 
 The countess did not. Decidedly, the Countess 
 Sophia Tolstoy is one of those truly feminine hero- 
 ines who are cast into shadow by a brilliant light 
 close to them, but a heroine none the less in more ways 
 than need be mentioned. Her self-denial and cour- 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. , 163 
 
 age gave to the world " War and Peace " and " Anna 
 Kardnin ;" and she declares that were it to do over 
 again she would not hesitate a moment. The public 
 owes the count's wife a great debt of gratitude, and 
 not of reproaches, for bravely opposing his fatal de- 
 sire to live in every detail the life of a peasant laborer. 
 Can any one blessed with the faintest particle of im- 
 agination fail to perceive how great a task it has 
 been to withstand him thus for his own good ; to 
 rear nine healthy, handsome, well-bred children out 
 of the much larger family which they have had ; to 
 bear the entire responsibility of the household and 
 the business ? 
 
 She remarked, one day, that there was no crying 
 need for the Russian nobility to follow her husband's 
 teachings and give away all their goods in order to be 
 on a level with the peasants. Plenty of them would 
 soon attain that blissful state of poverty in the nat- 
 ural course of things, since they were not only grow- 
 ing poorer every year, but the distribution of inherit- 
 ances among the numerous children was completing the 
 work, and very many would be reduced to laboring 
 with their hands for a living. This is perfectly true. 
 There is no law of primogeniture in Russia. The one 
 established by Peter the Great having produced di- 
 vers and grievous evils, besides being out of harmony 
 with the Russian character, it was withdrawn. All 
 the male children share equally in the father's estate 
 as in title. The female children receive by law only 
 an extremely small portion of the inheritance, but 
 their dowry is not limited. 
 
 Among the count's most ardent followers is one 
 of his daughters. She does everything for herself, 
 according to his teachings, in a manner which Ameri- 
 
164 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 can girls, in even moderately well-to-do families, 
 would never dream of. She works for the peasants 
 in various ways, and carries out her father's ideas 
 in other matters as far as possible. Her Spartan 
 (or Tolst6yan) treatment of herself may be of value 
 in character-building, as mortification of the flesh 
 is supposed to be in general. Practically, I think 
 the relations between peasants and nobles render 
 her sacrifices unavailing. For example : one of the 
 peasant women having been taken ill, there was a 
 good deal of sickness in the village, she went to 
 the hayfield to do the woman's work and prevent the 
 forfeit of fifteen or twenty cents, the price of the 
 day's labor. We strolled out to find her. The ther- 
 mometer must have stood at 100 F., and although 
 the dry inland heat can be better borne than the 
 same amount of damp heat, it was far from being 
 comfortable weather even for indolent persons. We 
 found her under a tree, resting and drinking cold tea, 
 while she awaited the return, from some errand of 
 their devising, of the peasant women who had been 
 at work with her. She looked wretchedly ill, and 
 we tried to prevail on her to go back to the house 
 with us. But the count (who was not well enough 
 to work) happened along, and as he said nothing she 
 decided to stay and to resume labor at once, since the 
 women seemed to have been detained. 
 
 As we beat a retreat homeward under that burn- 
 ing sun, we discovered the nature of the peasant 
 women's urgent business. They were engaged in 
 stripping the count's bushes of their fruit and devour- 
 ing it by the handful. We could not persuade him 
 to interfere. " They want it, or they would not take 
 it," he said. It was none of our business, to be sure, 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 165 
 
 but those strong, muscular women offered such a con- 
 trast, in physique and conduct, to the fair, delicate 
 young girl whom we had just left that we felt indig- 
 nant enough to attack them ourselves, if it would 
 have done any good. The next day his daughter 
 was more seriously ill than the peasant woman whose 
 place she had taken. I should not have felt unhappy 
 to learn that those women had been uncomfortably 
 ill in consequence of their greediness. 
 
 The count has no longer a school for the peasant 
 children, by the way. The necessity for that is past. 
 But he must have been an original professor. A 
 friend of mine in St. Petersburg, who was interested, 
 during the sixties, in the secular Sunday-schools for 
 workingmen who could not attend on week days, 
 repeated to me the count's method as imparted to 
 her by himself while visiting the capital. He ob- 
 jected to the rules which compelled the men to be 
 regular in attendance, on the ground that learning 
 must not be acquired thus mechanically, under com- 
 pulsion, but when the scholar feels an inward im- 
 pulse. He would not listen to the suggestion that 
 this method would hardly answer when study must 
 be prosecuted on specified days under penalty of 
 eternal ignorance. He said that when he found his 
 peasant pupils indisposed to learn he dismissed the 
 school, went home, and occupied himself in his own 
 affairs. After an interval, more or less long, a 
 scuffling of feet and a rapping would become audible 
 at the door, and small voices would plead : " Please, 
 Lyeff Nikola'itch, we want to study. Please, come 
 and teach us." He went, and they made rapid prog- 
 ress because all was purely voluntary. 
 
 One of the whitened stone wings of the old manor 
 
166 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 house stands unchanged. It is occupied in summer 
 by the countess's sister and her famity. She is a 
 handsome and clever woman, who translates, and 
 who has written some strong short stories. The 
 wing used by the count has been enlarged to meet 
 the requirements of the large family, and yet it is 
 not a great or imposing house. At one end a stone 
 addition, like the original building, contains, on the 
 ground floor, the count's two rooms, which open on 
 an uncovered stone terrace facing the hedge-inclosed 
 lawn, with beds of bright flowers bordering it, and 
 the stately lindens of the grand avenues waving their 
 crests beyond in the direction of the ponds. Over 
 these rooms and the vestibule is the hall, indispensa- 
 ble as a dining-room and a play-room for the small 
 children in wet weather and in winter. A wooden ad- 
 dition at the other end furnishes half a dozen rooms 
 for members of the family, the tutor, and the maids. 
 Near by stand several log cottages, the bakehouse, 
 the servants' dining-room, and other necessary offices. 
 The count's study is very plain. The walls are in 
 part lined with bookcases ; in part they are covered 
 with portraits of relatives and of distinguished per- 
 sons whom he admires. There are more bookcases 
 in the vestibule, for people are constantly sending 
 him books of every conceivable sort. I imagine that 
 the first copies of every book, pamphlet, and journal 
 on any hobby or " ism," especially from America, 
 find their way to the address of Count Tolst6y. He 
 showed me some very wild products of the human 
 brain. The hall upstairs has a polished wood floor, 
 as is usual with such rooms, and a set of very simple 
 wicker furniture. Portraits of ancestors, some of 
 whom figure in " War and Peace," hang upon the 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 1G7 
 
 walls. A piano, on which the count sometimes plays, 
 and a large table complete the furniture. Every- 
 thing in the house is severely simple. If I take the 
 liberty of going into these details, it is in the interest 
 of justice. The house has been described in print 
 from imagination, it would seem as "a castle 
 luxuriously furnished," and the count has been re- 
 proached with it. Cheap as the furniture is, he 
 grumbled at it when it was purchased; he grumbles 
 at it still, and to me spoke of it as " sinful luxury." 
 But then he cannot be regarded a fair judge of what 
 constitutes luxury. 
 
 The whole house, outside and in, is modest in the 
 extreme. The park with its avenues of lindens, 
 which were in full bloom during our visit, the ponds 
 and lawns and forest, must have been superb in the 
 time of his grandfather, and even of his mother, from 
 whom he inherited it. A grove and thicket now 
 occupy the site of the former manor, and screen the 
 view of each wing from the other. Vegetable gar- 
 dens and berry patches lie near at hand, and beds of 
 brilliant but not rare flowers enliven the immediate 
 vicinity of the house. 
 
 The estate is large and fertile, though it does not 
 lie in the famous " black-earth zone." This begins & 
 few miles south of it. 
 
 Plain wholesome food, simple dress, an open-air 
 life without fixed programme, were what we found. 
 In the morning, after drinking tea or coffee, with 
 bread and butter, in the hall, we usually strolled 
 through the lovely forest, filled with flowers and per- 
 fumes, to the little rivrr about a mile distant, for 
 a bath. The unpainted board bath-house had seats 
 running along the walls, and steps leading down into 
 
168 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 the water. A framework supporting thick screens 
 of golden rye straw extended far out over the stream. 
 A door upstream swung open at will for ambitious 
 swimmers. It was a solitary spot. The peasant girls 
 pitching hay in the meadows beyond with three- 
 pronged boughs stripped of their leaves were the only 
 persons we ever saw. Clad in their best scarlet cot- 
 ton sarafdni and head kerchiefs, they added greatly 
 to the beauty of the landscape. Haying is .such easy 
 work compared to the rest of the summer labors, that 
 the best gowns are donned as for a festival. 
 
 . If the boys got ahead of us on those hot morn- 
 ings, when we had dispensed with every article of 
 clothing not absolutely necessary, we lay in the 
 shadow of the fragrant birches at the top of the hill 
 on the soft, short sward, which seems in Russia to 
 grow as thick in dense forests as in open glades, and 
 waited until they could tear themselves from the 
 cool embrace of the stream. Then we went in, great 
 and small, but with no bathing-dress. The use of 
 such a garment on such an occasion would be re- 
 garded as a sign that one was afflicted with some 
 bodily defect which one was anxious to conceal. By 
 the time we had refreshed ourselves and rambled 
 back, searching for early mushrooms through the for- 
 est or the great plantation of birches set out by the 
 count's own hands a quarter of a century before, 
 and grown now to stout and serviceable giants, the 
 twelve o'clock breakfast was ready under the trees. 
 At this informal meal every one sat where he pleased, 
 and helped himself. At dinner, on the contrary, my 
 place was always at the count's left hand. We sat 
 on whatever offered itself. Sometimes I had a wooden 
 chair, sometimes a bit of the long bench like a plas- 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 169 
 
 terer's horse. Once, when some one rose suddenly 
 from the other end of this, I tumbled over on the 
 count and narrowly escaped wrecking his dinner. 
 
 At no meal did the count ever eat a mouthful of 
 meat, despite urgent persuasion. Boiled buckwheat 
 groats, salted cucumbers, black bread, eggs with spin- 
 ach, tea and coffee, sour kvas (beer made from black 
 bread), and cabbage soup formed the staple of his 
 diet, even when ill, and when most people would have 
 avoided the cucumbers and kvas, at least. 
 
 The family generally met as a whole for the first 
 time at breakfast. The count had been busy at work 
 in the fields, in writing or reading in his study ; 
 the boys with their tutor ; the countess copying her 
 husband's manuscript and ordering the household. 
 After breakfast every one did what he pleased until 
 dinner. There was riding, driving, anything that 
 the heat permitted. A second bath, late in the after- 
 noon, was indulged in when it was very hot. The 
 afternoon bathing party generally drove down in a 
 lineika, a sort of long jaunting-car with a central 
 bench, not too wide, on which the passengers sit back 
 to back, their feet resting on a narrow footboard 
 which curves over the wheels as a shield. This 
 lineika had also cross-seats at each end, and with 
 judicious packing could be made to hold sixteen per- 
 sons. As it was upholstered in leather and had no 
 springs, there was some art in keeping one's seat 
 when the three horses were going at full speed over 
 the uneven forest road. 
 
 After breakfast I sometimes sat under the trees 
 with the countess, and helped her sew on baby Ivan's 
 clothes, for the pleasure of her conversation. No- 
 thing could be more fascinating. This beautiful 
 
170 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 woman has not rusted during her long residence in 
 the country. There are few better informed women 
 than she, few better women of business, few women 
 who are so clever and practical. 
 
 One day, as I was sitting, armed with thimble and 
 needle, waiting for her, the count discovered a hole 
 in his pocket, and asked his niece to mend it for 
 him. She had not her implements. I volunteered, 
 to do the mending, not to lend the wherewithal. 
 The pocket was of black silk, my thread of white 
 cotton, but that was of no consequence. I seated 
 myself comfortably on the sand, and speedily discov- 
 ered not one hole, but a row of holes such as wear 
 along the seams of pockets. The count was greatly 
 annoyed at the trouble he was giving me, protested 
 as I began on each new hole, and was very restless. 
 I was finally obliged to speak. 
 
 " Lyeff Nikola/itch," I said, " do me the favor to 
 sit still. Your reputation as well as mine is in- 
 volved in this work. It must be done thoroughly 
 and neatly quite as much for your sake as for mine." 
 
 44 How so ? " he asked in surprise. 
 
 44 My woman's reputation for neat mending trem- 
 bles in the balance ; and do not you advocate the 
 theory that we should help our fellow-men? You 
 have helped others ; it is your turn now to be experi- 
 mented on. And besides, if the fellow-man obsti- 
 nately refuses to be helped by others, how are we 
 to do our duty by him? How could you work for 
 others, if they persisted in following out the other 
 half of your doctrine and doing everything for them- 
 selves? 'Tis plain that you understand how to ren- 
 der services far better than to receive them. Reform. 
 Submit." 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 171 
 
 The count laughed, with a sort of grim bewilder- 
 ment in his eye, and behaved in an exemplary man- 
 ner for the few remaining moments. I mentally 
 thanked Fate for providing me with an opportunity 
 for suggesting an object lesson on a point which had 
 puzzled me not a little, and which I had been pining 
 to attack in some form. He did not explain away 
 my difficulties, it is true, but I was satisfied with 
 having presented the other side of the shield to his 
 attention. 
 
 On another occasion, as we sat under the trees, a 
 peasant came, scythe on shoulder, to complain to the 
 countess of his wrongs. No one ever went to the 
 count, knowing that his wife had full management. 
 Peasants who came in a deputation to parley about 
 hiring or buying extra land, and so on, applied di- 
 rectly to her. The comrades of this Vasily Alex- 
 eTitch had got two buckets of vtidka, and had forced 
 him, who detested liquor, to drink of it. Then they 
 had become quarrelsome (he was peaceable), and 
 they had torn his shirt so! Hereupon he flung 
 back his coat, worn in Russian fashion with the 
 sleeves hanging, and let his faded red cotton shirt fall 
 from his muscular shoulders, leaving him nude to the 
 waist, save for the cheap little baptismal cross sus- 
 pended round his neck by a cord. The small boys 
 set up a shout of laughter at his story and his action. 
 The countess rebuked him sharply for such conduct 
 before the children, and refused to interfere in the 
 quarrel. The man pulled his torn shirt over his 
 body and slouched off. That evening, after tea, the 
 count happened to hit upon a couple of Mr. Rider 
 Haggard's books for discussion, and, for the benefit 
 of those in the company who had not read it, gave 
 
172 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 the chief points of " She " in particularly lively style, 
 which kept us all in laughter. In describing the 
 heroine, he said that " she was clothed in an airy 
 garment, like Vasily AlexeTitch ; " and again that 
 44 she dropped her garment, and stood like Vasily 
 Alexei'itch." He pronounced " She " and other works 
 of Haggard " the lowest type of literature," and said 
 that " it was astonishing how so many English people 
 could go wild over them." He seemed to read every- 
 thing, good and bad, and to possess not only an om- 
 nivorous literary appetite, but a wonderful memory 
 for books, even in small details. 
 
 Among the innumerable things which he read were 
 Mormon publications, sent him regularly from head- 
 quarters. I cannot explain the object of the Mor- 
 mons in making him the point of attack. He thought 
 very highly of the doctrines of the Mormons as set 
 forth by themselves, and could not understand why 
 they were " persecuted " in America. No one had 
 ever sent him documents on the other side of the 
 question, and he seemed as ignorant of it as I was of 
 the Mormon arguments. In answer to his queries, I 
 told him that the problems involved were too numer- 
 ous, serious, and complicated for me to enter upon ; 
 that the best way, under such circumstances, was for 
 him to read statements set down in black and white 
 by recognized authorities on the subject; and that 
 I would cause books on the matter to be forwarded 
 to him, which I did. But he persisted that our gov- 
 ernment is in the wrong. 
 
 " It is a shame," said he, " that in a great and free 
 country like America a community of people should 
 be so oppressed, and not allowed that liberty of which 
 you boast." 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 173 
 
 " You know your Dickens well," I answered. 
 " Have you any recollection of Martin Chuzzlewit? 
 You will remember that when Martin was in Amer- 
 ica with Mark Tapley lie saw a slave being sold. 
 Mark Tapley observed that 'the Americans were so 
 fond of Liberty that they took liberties with her.' 
 That is, in brief, what ails the Mormons. The only 
 argument in favor of them which can possibly be 
 made is that their practice, not their preaching, offers 
 the only solution of your own theory that all women 
 should be married. But that theory has never been 
 advanced in extenuation of their behavior. I offer it 
 to you brand new, as a slight illustration of a very 
 unpleasant subject." 
 
 One day, during a chat in his study, he had praised 
 Dickens. 
 
 u There are three requisites which go to make a 
 perfect writer," he remarked. " First, he must have 
 something worth saying. Second, he must have a 
 proper way of saying it. Third, he must have sin- 
 cerity. Dickens had all three of these qualities. 
 Thackeray had not much to say ; he had a great deal 
 of art in saying it ; but lie had not enough sincerity. 
 Dostoievsky possessed all three requisites. Nekrasoff 
 knew well how to express himself, but he did not 
 possess the first quality ; he forced himself to say 
 something, whatever would catch the public at the 
 moment, of which he was a very keen judge. As he 
 wrote to suit the popular taste, believing not at all in 
 what he said, he had none of the third requisite." 
 He declared that America had not as yet produced 
 any first-class woman writer, like George Eliot and 
 George Sand. 
 
 Count Tolst6y's latest book at that time was 
 
174 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 "What to Do?" It was much discussed, though 
 not very new. It will be remembered that in the 
 final chapter of that work he argues that woman's 
 whole duty consists in marrying and having as large 
 a family as possible. But, in speaking of Mr. How- 
 ells's " The Undiscovered Country," which he had 
 just discovered, it was odd to think he had never 
 heard of Mr. Howells before, he remarked, in con- 
 nection with the Shakers, that "it was a good thing 
 that they did not marry." 
 
 He said this more than once and at some length. 
 I did not like to enter on the subject lest he should 
 go too far, in his earnestness, before the assembled 
 company. Therefore I seized an opportunity to ask 
 his wife how he reconciled that remark with his 
 creed that all women should marry. 
 
 She answered that it certainly was not consistent, 
 but that her husband changed his opinion every two 
 years ; and, to my consternation, she instantly appealed 
 to him. He did not go into details, however. He 
 pulled out a letter which he had received from a Eus- 
 sian woman, a stranger to him. The writer said: 
 "While acknowledging the justice of your views, 
 I must remark that marringe is a fate which is not 
 possible to every woman. What, then, in your opin- 
 ion, should a woman who has missed that fate do ? " 
 
 I was interested in his reply, because six months 
 earlier he had advised me to marry. I inquired what 
 answer he intended to send, that is, if he meant 
 to reply at all. He said that he considered the let- 
 ter of sufficient importance to merit an answer, and 
 that he should tell her that "every woman who had 
 not married, whatever the reason, ought to impose 
 upon herself the hardest cross which she could de- 
 vise, and bear it." 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 175 
 
 " And so punish herself for the fault of others, 
 perhaps ? " I asked. " No. If your correspondent is 
 a woman of sufficient spirit to Impose that cross, she 
 will also have sufficient spirit to retort that very fe\v 
 of us choose our own crosses ; and that women's 
 crosses imposed by Fate, Providence, or whatever 
 one pleases to call it, are generally heavier, more 
 cruel, than any which they could imagine for them- 
 selves in the maddest ecstasy of pain-worship. Are 
 the Shaker women, of whom you approve, also to 
 invent crosses ? And how about the Shaker men ? 
 What is their duty in the matter of invoking suf- 
 fering?" 
 
 He made no reply, except that " non-marriage was 
 the ideal state," and then relapsed into silence, as was 
 his habit when he did not intend to relinquish his 
 idea. Nevertheless I am convinced he is always open 
 to the influence quite unconsciously, of course of 
 argument from any quarter. His changes of belief 
 prove it. 
 
 These remarks anent the Shakers seemed to indi- 
 cate that, another change was imminent; and as the 
 history of his progress through the links of his chain 
 of reasoning was a subject of the greatest interest to 
 me, I asked his wife for it. It cannot be called any- 
 thing but a linked progress, since the germs nay, 
 the nearly full-fledged idea of his present moral 
 and religious attitude can be found in almost all of 
 his writings from the very beginning. 
 
 When the count married, he had attained to that 
 familiar stage in the spiritual life where men have 
 forgotten, or outgrown, or thoroughly neglected for a 
 long time the religious instruction inculcated upon 
 them in their childhood. There is no doubt that the 
 
176 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 count had been well grounded in religious tenets and 
 ceremonies ; the Russian church is particular on this 
 point, and examinations in "the law of God " form 
 part of the conditions for entrance to the state 
 schools. But, having reached the point where reli- 
 gion has no longer any solid grasp upon a man, he did 
 not like to see other people observe even the forms. 
 
 Later on he began a novel, to be called " The De- 
 cembrists." The Decembrists is the name given to 
 the participants in the disorders of 1825, on the 
 accession of the Emperor Nicholas I. to the throne. 
 Among the preparations which he made for this 
 work were excursions taken with the object of ac- 
 quainting himself with the divers dialects and pecul- 
 iarities of expression current in the different parts 
 of the empire. These he collected from pilgrims on 
 the highways and byways. 
 
 " A pilgrim," said the witty countess, " is a man 
 who has grown tired of the jars and the cares and 
 responsibilities of the household ; out of patience 
 with the family in general. He feels the necessity, 
 inborn in every Russian, for roaming, for getting far 
 away from people, into the country and the forests. 
 So he makes a pilgrimage to some distant shrine. I 
 should like to be a pilgrim myself, but the family 
 ties me down. I feel the need of freshening up my 
 ideas." 
 
 In these excursions the count came to see how 
 great a part religion plays in the life of the lower 
 classes ; and he argued that, in order to get into 
 sympathy with them, one must share their ideas as 
 to religion. Accordingly he plunged into it with his 
 customary ardor, " he has a passionate nature," 
 and for several years he attended every church ser- 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 177 
 
 vice, observed every rite, kept every fast, and so on. 
 lie thought it horrible if those about him did not do 
 the same, if they neglected a single form. I think 
 it quite probable that he initiated the trouble with 
 his stomach by these fasts. They are nothing to a 
 person who has always been used to them ; but when 
 we consider that the longer fasts cover about four 
 solid months, not to mention the usual abstinence 
 on Wednesdays and Fridays and the special absti- 
 nences, and that milk, eggs, cheese, and butter are 
 prohibited, as well as other customary articles of 
 food, it is not difficult to imagine the effect of sudden 
 and strict observance upon a man accustomed during 
 the greater part of his life to a meat diet. The vege- 
 table diet in which he now persists only aggravates 
 the evil in one who is afflicted with liver trouble, and 
 who is too old to train his vital economy in fresh 
 paths. 
 
 His religious ardor lasted until he went to church 
 one day, during the last Russo-Turkish war, when 
 prayers were offered for the success of the Russian 
 army. It suddenly struck him that it was inconsis- 
 tent with "Love your enemies," "Love one another," 
 " Do not kill," that prayers should be offered for the 
 death of enemies. From that day forth he ceased to 
 go to church, as he had also perceived that the prac- 
 tice of religious forms did not, in reality, bring him 
 much nearer to the peasants, and that one must live 
 among them, work among them, to appreciate their 
 point of view. 
 
 The only surprising thing about this is that he 
 should never have noticed that the army is prayed 
 for, essentially in the same sense, at every church 
 service. After the petitions for the Emperor and the 
 
178 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 imperial family, the liturgy proceeds, " And we pray 
 for the army, that Thou wilt assist Them [that is, 
 the Imperial family and its army], and subdue all 
 foes and enemies under Their feet." Perhaps these 
 familiar words came home to him with special force 
 on that particular day, as familiar words sometimes 
 do. Possibly it was a special prayer. In any case, 
 the prayer was strictly logical. If you have an army, 
 pray for it ; and the only prayer that can be offered 
 is, obviously, not for its defeat. That would be tan- 
 tamount to praying for the enemy ; which might be 
 Scriptural, in one way, but would be neither natural, 
 popular, nor further removed from objections of mur- 
 der than the other. 
 
 But Count Tolst6y was logical, also, in another 
 way. Once started on this train of thought, most 
 worldly institutions of the present day, beginning 
 with the army, appeared to him opposed to the 
 teaching of Christ, on whi-ch point no rational man 
 will differ from him. As to the possibility of living 
 the life of Christ, or even the advisability of trying 
 it, at this period of the world, that is quite another 
 matter. 
 
 It is not necessary for me to recapitulate here that 
 which all the world knows already, the minute 
 details of his belief in personal property, labor, the 
 renunciation of art and science, and so forth. We 
 discussed them. But I neglected my opportunities 
 to worry him with demands for his catechism, which 
 his visitors delight in grinding out of him as though 
 from a machine, when the reading public must be 
 sufficiently informed on that score already. I have en- 
 deavored to set down only the special illustrations of 
 his doctrines, out of the rich mass of his conversation. 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 179 
 
 Those who have perused attentively his earlier 
 works will have perceived that there is really very 
 little that is absolutely new in these doctrines. They 
 are so strictly the development of ideas which are an 
 integral part of him, through heredity, environment, 
 and personal bias, that the only surprise would be 
 that he should not have ended in this way. Com- 
 munity of goods, mutual help, and kindred doctrines 
 are the national birthright of every Russian, often 
 bartered, it is true. But long residence in the coun- 
 try among the peasants who do not preach these doc- 
 trines, but simply practice them, naturally affected 
 the thoughtful student of humanity though he was of 
 a different rank. He began to announce his theories 
 to the world, and found followers, as teachers of these 
 views generally do, a proof that they satisfy an 
 instinct in the human breast. Solitary country life 
 anywhere is productive of such views. 
 
 Disciples, or "adepts," began to make pilgrim- 
 ages to the prophet. There is a characteristic, a 
 highly characteristic history of one such who came 
 and established himself in the village at the count's 
 park gate. 
 
 " This F. was a Jew, who did not finish his 
 studies, got led astray by socialists, and joined a 
 community where, like the other members, he lived 
 out of marriage with a young girl student. At last 
 he came across a treatise of Lyeff Nikolaevitch, and 
 decided that he was wrong and Lyeff Nikolaevitch 
 right. He removed to Yasnaya Polyana, married his 
 former mistress, and began to live and work among 
 the peasants." (He first joined the Russian church, 
 and one of the count's daughters stood godmother 
 for him.) " His wife worked also ; but, with deli- 
 
180 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 cate health and two small children to care for, she 
 could do little, through weakness and lack of skill. 
 The peasants laughed at him and at Lyeff Nikold- 
 'itch." 
 
 Mrs. F. came to the countess with her griefs, and 
 the latter helped her with food, clothing, and in other 
 ways. " One day nothing remained in the house 
 to eat but a single crust. F. was ill. His wife, 
 who was also ill and feeble, went off to work. On 
 her return she f$und no bread. Some one had come 
 along begging 4 Khrista rd di ' [for Christ's sake], 
 and F. bad given him the crust, with absolute 
 consistency, it must be confessed. This was the 
 end. There was a scene. The wife went back to her 
 friends. F. also gave up, went off to Ekaterinoslaff, 
 learned the tailor's trade, and married again ! " How 
 he managed this second marriage without commit- 
 ting bigamy, in view of the laws of Russia on that 
 point, I am at a loss to understand. 
 
 "All my husband's disciples," said the countess, 
 " are small, blond, sickly, and homely ; all as like 
 one to another as a pair of old boots. You have seen 
 them. X. Z. you know him had a very pretty 
 talent for verses ; but he has ruined it and his mind, 
 and made himself quite an idiot, by following my 
 husband's teachings." 
 
 The count provided a complement to these re- 
 marks in a conversation on Russian writers. He 
 said of a certain author; " That man has never been 
 duly appreciated, has never received the recogni- 
 tion which his genius deserves. Yet you know how 
 superbly he writes, or rather, did write. He has 
 spoiled himself now by imitating me. It is a pity." 
 
 This ingenuous comment is rescued from any 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 181 
 
 tinge of conceit or egotism by its absolute simplicity 
 and truth. The imitation referred to is of the moral 
 "Tales" for popular reading of the lower classes, 
 \vhich my cabman had studied. The pity of it is, 
 when so many of the contemporary writers of Russia 
 owe their inspiration, their very existence, to Turge- 
 neff and Tolst6y having preceded them, that a man 
 who possesses personal talent and a delightful indi- 
 vidual style should sacrifice them. In his case it is 
 unnecessary. Count Tolstoy's recognition of this fact 
 is characteristic. 
 
 The countess's description of the " adepts " was as 
 clever as the rest of her remarks, and absolutely ac- 
 curate. One of them was at the house for a day or 
 two. (I had seen them elsewhere as well.) He had 
 evidently got himself a new blouse for the visit. It 
 was of coarse blue and white cloth, checked, and so 
 stiff with newness that, having a long slit and only 
 one button, at the neck, I could see the whole of his 
 hairy breast every time I looked at him from the left 
 side. I sympathized with Prince K., who being next 
 him at table turned his back on him and ignored him 
 conversationally ; which embarrassed the young man 
 extremely. Apropos of his shirt, I never saw any 
 one but the count himself wear a shirt that a real 
 peasant would have worn ; and I do not believe that 
 even he had one of the characteristic red cotton gar- 
 ments which are the peasant's pride. 
 
 I found this adept interesting when he sat opposite 
 me, and he incited the count to vivacity. He con- 
 tributed a very good anecdote illustrative of the 
 count's followers. 
 
 A man in one of the southern governments 
 which one is immaterial here sent a quantity of 
 
182 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 lithographed copies of five or ten forbidden books 
 (Tolstoy's and others) to a disciple of Tolstoy in one 
 of the northern governments. In the village of this 
 disciple, some young women students in the higher 
 or university courses for women, and followers of Tol- 
 stoy, were living for the summer in peasant fashion, 
 and working in the fields, " to the scornful pity of the 
 peasants" (I italicize this phrase as remarkable on 
 the lips of an adept.) These young women, having 
 heard of the dispatch by post of the books, and being 
 in the town, thought to do the count's disciple a favor 
 by asking if they had arrived. Had they refrained, 
 nothing would have happened and the books would 
 have been delivered without a question. As it was, 
 attention was attracted to the parcel by the inquiry 
 of these girls of eccentric behavior. The fifty or sixty 
 copies were confiscated ; the girls' passports were 
 taken from them. The disciple appealed to a rela- 
 tive in high official position in their behalf. The 
 girls were informed, in consequence, that they might 
 hire themselves out to work for this disciple of gentle 
 birth as much as they liked ; but they were forbidden 
 to work for or among the peasants. The adventure 
 was not ended when this story was told. Whether 
 the students were satisfied with the permission to 
 work I do not know. Probably not; their fellow- 
 disciple would not have scorned them as the peasants 
 did, and contradiction, that spice of life to enthusias- 
 tic worshipers of impracticable ideas, would have been 
 lacking. In my opinion, the authorities committed 
 an error in judgment. They should have shown more 
 faith in the peasants, the toil, and the girls' unhard- 
 ened frames. All three elements combined could 
 have been trusted to effect a permanent cure of those 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 183 
 
 disciples by the end of the harvest, had they been 
 gently encouraged not only to work with the peas- 
 ants but to prove that they were capable of toiling 
 and enduring in precisely the same manner and 
 measure. 
 
 Still the authorities very naturally looked upon the 
 action of the girls as a case of idti v nar6d (going to 
 the people), in the sense understood by the revolution- 
 ary propagandists. Their prohibition was based on 
 this ground. 
 
 In some way we got upon the subject of English 
 things and ways. The count's eyes flashed. 
 
 " The English are the most brutal nation on 
 earth ! " he exclaimed. " Along with the Zulus, that 
 is to say. Both go naked : the Zulus all day long, 
 the Englishwomen as soon as dinner is served. The 
 English worship their muscle; they think of it, talk 
 of it. If I had time, I should like to write a book on 
 their ways. And then their executions, which they 
 go to see as a pleasure ! " 
 
 I asked which nation was a model, in his opinion. 
 
 " The French," he answered, which seemed to me 
 inconsistent, when he told of the execution which he 
 had witnessed in Paris, where a father had lifted up 
 his little child that it might have a good view of the 
 horrors of the guillotine. 
 
 " Defective as is Russian civilization in many re- 
 spects," he said, "you will never find the Russian 
 peasant like that. He abhors deliberate murder, like 
 an execution." 
 
 " Yet he will himself commit murder," I objected. 
 " There has been a perfect flood of murders reported 
 in the newspapers this very spring. Those perpe- 
 trated in town were all by men of the peasant class ; 
 
184 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 and most of them were by lads under twenty years 
 of age." 
 
 He insisted that I must have misread the pa- 
 pers. So I proceeded to inquire, " What will a peas- 
 ant do in case of an execution ? " 
 
 " He will murder, but without premeditation. 
 What he will do in case of an execution I can illus- 
 trate for you by something which occurred in this 
 very neighborhood some years ago. 
 
 " The regimental secretary of a regiment stationed 
 at Z. was persecuted by one of his officers, who found 
 fault with him continually, and even placed him 
 under arrest for days at a time, when the man had 
 only obeyed his own orders. At last the secretary's 
 patience failed him, and one day he struck the offi- 
 cer. A court-martial followed. I was chosen to de- 
 fend him. He was sentenced to death. I appealed 
 to the Emperor through Madame A., you know 
 her. For some reason she spoke to one of the minis- 
 ters. 4 You have not stated the number of his regi- 
 
 o 
 
 ment; that is indispensable,' was the reply. Evi- 
 dently this was a subterfuge, that time might be 
 consumed in correspondence, and the pardon might 
 arrive too late. The reason for this was, in all prob- 
 ability, that just at this time a soldier had struck 
 an officer in Moscow and had been condemned. If 
 one were pardoned, in justice the other must be also. 
 Otherwise discipline would suffer. This coincidence 
 was awkward for the secretary, strong as his case 
 was, and he was shot. 
 
 "The adjutant's hands trembled so with emotion 
 that lie could not apply the bandage to the prisoner's 
 eyes. Others tried and gave it up. Well, as soon as 
 that man was buried his grave was covered with flow- 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 185 
 
 ers, crosses, and all sorts of things by the peasants, who 
 fame many versts from all directions, as to the grave 
 of a martyr. Masses for the dead were ordered there, 
 in uninterrupted succession, by these poor peasants. 
 The feeling was so great and appeared to be spread- 
 ing to such an extent that the authorities were forced 
 not only to prohibit access to the grave, but even to 
 level it off so that it could not be found. But an 
 Englishman ! If he were told to cut the throat of 
 his own father and eat him, he would do it." 
 
 " Still, in spite of your very striking illustration, 
 and your doubts as to my having read the papers cor- 
 rectly," I remarked, " I am sure that the Russian 
 peasant does, occasionally, murder with premeditation. 
 He is a fine-tempered, much-enduring, admirable fel- 
 low, I admit, but he is human. He cannot be so 
 different in this respect from all other races of men. 
 Moreover, I have the testimony of a celebrated Rus- 
 sian author on my side." 
 
 " What author ? What testimony ? " 
 
 "Have you ever read The 'Power of Darkness'? 
 The amount of deliberation, of premeditation^ in any 
 murder is often a matter of opinion ; but the murder 
 of the child in the last act of that comedy is surely 
 deliberate enough to admit of no difference of judg- 
 ment. Don't you think that the author supports 
 me?" 
 
 He gasped at my audacity in quoting his own writ- 
 ings against him, and retreated into the silence which 
 was his resource when he could not or would not 
 answer. Put him in a corner and he would refuse 
 to come out. 
 
 Beggars used to come while we were eating out- 
 of-doors ; some called themselves " pilgrims." The 
 
186 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 count would give them a little money, and they would 
 tramp oft' again. One day, when the birthday of an 
 absent member of the family was being celebrated, 
 and we were drinking healths in voditchka (a sort of 
 effervescent water flavored with fruit juices), we had 
 a distinguished visitor, "Prince Romanoff." This 
 was the crazy Balakhin mentioned in " What to 
 Do?" as having had his brain turned by the sight 
 of the luxury in the lives of others. His rags and 
 patches, or rather his conglomeration of patches, sur- 
 passed anything we had seen in that line. One of the 
 lads jumped up and gave him a glass of raspberry 
 voditchka, telling him that it was rare old wine. The 
 man sipped it, looked through it, and pretended (I am 
 sure that it was mere pretense) to believe that it was 
 wine. He promised us all large estates when the 
 Emperor should give him back his own, now wrong- 
 fully withheld from him. 
 
 Balakhin stayed about the place, making himself 
 at home with the servants, for twenty-four hours or 
 more. I believe that he strays about among the landed 
 proprietors of the district as a profession. In spite of 
 his willingness to call himself " Prince Romanoff" as 
 often as any one chose to incite him thereto, this did 
 not impress me as a proof that he was too deranged 
 to earn his ow*n living, with his healthy frame, if he 
 saw fit. I had observed the mania for titles in other 
 persons (not all Russians, by any means) who would 
 vigorously resent the imputation that they should be 
 in a lunatic asylum. Moreover, this imperial " Prince 
 Romanoff " never forgot his "manners." He inva- 
 riably rose when his superiors (or his inferiors, per- 
 haps I should say) approached, like any other peas- 
 ant, and he looked far more crafty than crazy. 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 187 
 
 As the peasants were all busy haying, we post- 
 poned our visit to the village until the afternoon of 
 Peter and Paul's day, in the hope that we should 
 then find some of them at home. The butler's family 
 were drinking tea on the porch of their neat new log 
 house with a tinned roof, at the end of the village 
 near the park gate. They rose and invited us to 
 honor them with our company and share their meal. 
 We declined, for lack of time. 
 
 One of the count's daughters had told me of a cu- 
 rious difference existing between the cut of the aprons 
 of maidens and of those of married women. I had 
 been incredulous, and she suggested that I put the 
 matter to the test by asking the first married woman 
 whom we should see. We found a pretty woman, 
 with beautiful brown eyes and exquisite teeth (whose 
 whiteness and soundness are said to be the result of 
 the sour black bread which the peasants eat exclu- 
 sively), standing at the door of her cottage. 
 
 " Here 's your chance ! " 
 
 " Show me your window, please," I said. 
 
 She laughed, and turned her back to me. There 
 was the " window," sure enough. The peasant apron, 
 which is fastened under the armpits, is pretty evenly 
 distributed as to fullness all the way round, and in 
 the case of a maiden falls in straight lines in the 
 back. But the married woman makes hers with a 
 semicircular opening a few inches below the band. 
 The points of the opening are connected by a loop 
 of fringe, a couple of cords not always tied, or any- 
 thing that comes handy, apparently for ornament. 
 Now, when the husband feels moved to demonstrate 
 his affection for his spouse by administering a beat- 
 ing, he is not obliged to fumble and grope among 
 
188 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 those straight folds for the awkward triangular little 
 opening, quite unsuited to accommodate his fist. He 
 can grasp her promptly by the neck of her chemise 
 and this comfortable semicircle, and not force her to 
 doubt his love by delay and hesitation in expression. 
 I asked the pretty woman if her husband found it 
 very useful. " Sometimes," she answered noncha- 
 lantly. The Russian peasant theory is : " No beat- 
 ing, no jealousy ; no jealousy, no love." 
 
 She offered to sell us a new petticoat similar to the 
 one which she wore. It was of homespun, hard- 
 twisted wool ^tamine^ very durable, of a sort which is 
 made, with slight variations, in several governments. 
 Ordinarily, in this district, it is of a bright scarlet 
 plaided off with lines of white and yellow. A breadth 
 of dark blue cotton is always inserted in the left side. 
 When a woman is in mourning, the same plaid on a 
 dark blue foundation is used. Married women wear 
 coarse chemises and aprons of homespun linen ; and 
 their braided hair coiled on top of the head imparts 
 a coronet shape to the gay cotton kerchief which is 
 folded across the brow and knotted at the nape of the 
 neck. 
 
 Young girls wear cotton chemises and aprons and 
 print dresses, all purchased, not home made. It is 
 considered that if a girl performs her due share of 
 the house and field work she will not have time to 
 weave more than enough linen for her wedding outfit, 
 and the purchase of what is needed before that un- 
 happy event is regarded as a certificate of industry. 
 I call it an unhappy event because from the moment 
 of her betrothal the prospective bride wears mourn- 
 ing garments. Black beads for the neck are the 
 height of fashion here. 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 189 
 
 The girl's gown, called a sarafdn, is plaited straight 
 and full into a narrow band, and suspended just 
 below the armpits by cross-bands over the shoulders. 
 She prefers for it plain scarlet cotton (kumdtcli), or 
 scarlet printed in designs of yellow, white, and green. 
 Her head kerchief matches in style. Her betrothal 
 gown and kerchief have a dark blue or black ground 
 with colored figures. 
 
 The bargain for the petticoat was closed at two 
 rubles, its real worth, subject to u sister's approba- 
 tion," an afterthought on the part of the pretty 
 woman. When she brought it to us at the house, 
 a couple of hours later, modestly concealed under 
 her apron, and with sister's blessing, she demanded 
 half a ruble more, because we had not beaten her 
 down, and perhaps also as an equivalent for sister's 
 consent. 
 
 She showed us her cottage, which was luxurious, 
 since it had a brick half for winter use, exactly cor- 
 responding to the summer half of logs. Behind, in 
 a wattled inclosure, were the animals and farming im- 
 plements. It was not a cheerful dwelling, with its 
 tiny windows, wall benches to serve as seats and beds, 
 pine table, images in the corner, great whitewashed 
 oven, in which the cooking was done, and on which, 
 near the ceiling, they could sleep, and sheepskin coats 
 as well as other garments lying about. 
 
 Practically, a small Russian village consists of one 
 street, since those peasants who live on the occasional 
 parallel or side lanes are "no account folks," and not 
 in fashion. It seemed inconsistent that ranks and 
 degrees should exist in peasant villages ; but human 
 nature is much the same in the country as in capitals, 
 even in the village of the man who advocates absolute 
 
190 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 equality of poverty, and despite the views of my 
 merry izvtistchik Alexe*i. 
 
 The aged mother of the woman to whom the 
 count's daughter was carrying a gift of a new ker- 
 chief was at home, and bestowed some smacking 
 kisses in thanks. The old woman even ran after us 
 to discharge another volley of gratitude on the young 
 countess's pretty cheeks. 
 
 In the evening we set out once more for the vil- 
 lage, to see the choral dances and hear the songs with 
 which the peasants celebrate their holidays. A dozen 
 or so of small peasant girls, pupils of the count's 
 daughter, who had invited themselves to swing on 
 the Giant Steps on the lawn opposite the count's 
 study windows, abandoned their amusement and ac- 
 companied us down the avenue, fairly howling an 
 endless song in shrill voices that went through one's 
 nerves. 
 
 As we emerged from the shadows of the avenue 
 and proceeded up the broad, grassy village street to 
 the place of assembly, the children dispersed. A 
 crowd was collected at a fairly level spot ready for 
 the dancing. All wore their gayest clothes. The 
 full moon, with brilliant Jupiter close beside her, 
 furnished an ideally picturesque light, and displayed 
 the scene to the greatest advantage. Low gray cot- 
 tages framed the whole. 
 
 It was a grand occasion. One of the count's sons 
 had brought his violin, his cousin had a balalaika, a 
 triangular peasant guitar, and one of the lackeys had 
 his harmonica, to play for the dancing. The young 
 men sat on a rough improvised bench ; the servant 
 stood beside them. The peasants seemed shy. They 
 hesitated and argued a good deal over beginning each 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 191 
 
 song. Finally they joined hands and circled slowly 
 to the tones of the generally monotonous airs. Some 
 of the melodies were lively and pleasing, but the 
 Great Russian peasant woman's voice is undeniably 
 shrill. The dancing, when some bold peasant ven- 
 tured to enter the circle, after much urging and push- 
 ing, was far tamer and more unvarying than I had 
 seen elsewhere. We felt very grateful to our maid, 
 Tatiana, for stepping forward with spirit and giving 
 us a touch of the genuine thing. 
 
 Alas ! the fruits of Tatiana' s civilization were but 
 too visible in her gown of yellow print flounced to 
 the waist and with a tight-fitting bodice. The peas- 
 ant costume suits the dance far better. Her part- 
 ner was unworthy of her, and did not perform the 
 squat -and -leap step in proper form. She needed 
 Fomitch, the butler, who had been obliged to stay 
 at home and serve tea ; to his regret, no doubt, since 
 we were informed that u he danced as though he had 
 ten devils in his body." As we saw no prospect of 
 any devils at all, and they are very necessary for 
 the proper dash in Russian dancing, we strolled 
 home, past the pond where the women were wont to 
 wash their clothes, and up the dark avenue. Per- 
 haps the requisite demons arrived after our departure. 
 It was a characteristic scene, and one not readily to 
 be forgotten. 
 
 One of the most enjoyable incidents of the even- 
 ing was the rehearsal of the maid's coquettish steps 
 and graces given by one of our young hostesses for 
 the benefit of those members of the family who had 
 not been present. It reminded us of the scene in 
 " War and Peace " after the hunt, when charming 
 young Countess Natalya Ilinitchna astonishes her 
 
192 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 old relative by her artistic performance of the Rus- 
 sian dance, which she must have inherited with the 
 traditions of her native land, since she had never 
 learned it. 
 
 Balalaika duets were one of the joys of our even- 
 ings under the trees, after dinner. The young men 
 played extremely well, and the popular airs were 
 fascinating. Our favorite was the " Barynya-Suda- 
 rynya," which invariably brings out volleys of laughter 
 and plaudits when it is sung on the stage. Even a 
 person who hears it played for the first time and is 
 ignorant of the words is constrained to laughter by 
 the merry air. In the evenings there were also hare- 
 and-hounds hunts through the meadows and forests, 
 bonfires over which the younger members of the 
 family jumped in peasant fashion, and other amuse- 
 ments. 
 
 In consequence of vegetarian indiscretions and 
 of trifling with his health in other ways during the 
 exceptionally hot weather then prevailing, the count 
 fell ill. When he got about a little he delighted to 
 talk of death. He said he felt that Jie was not going 
 to live long, and was glad of it. He asked what we 
 thought of death and the other world, declaring that 
 the future life must be far better than this, though 
 in what it consisted he could not feel any certainty. 
 Naturally he did not agree with our view, that for 
 the lucky ones this world provides a very fair idea 
 of heaven, because his ideal was not happiness for 
 all, but misery for all. He will be forced to revise 
 this ideal if he ever really comes to believe in heaven. 
 
 During this illness I persuaded him to read " Look- 
 ing Backward," which I had received as I was leav- 
 ing Moscow. When I presented it to him, he prom- 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 193 
 
 ised to examine it "some time;" but when I give 
 books I like to hear the opinion of the recipient in 
 detail, and I had had experience when I gave him 
 " Robert Elsmere." Especially in this case was I 
 anxious to discuss the work. 
 
 At first he was very favorably impressed, and said 
 that he would translate the book into Russian. He 
 believed that this was the true way : that people 
 should have, literally, all things in common, and so 
 on. I replied that matters would never arrive at the 
 state described unless this planet were visited by an- 
 other deluge, and neither Noah nor any other animal 
 endowed with the present human attributes saved to 
 continue this selfish species. I declared that nothing 
 short of a new planet, Utopia, and a newly created, 
 selected, and combined race of Utopian angels, would 
 ever get as far as the personages in that book, not 
 to speak of remaining in equilibrium on that dizzy 
 point when it should have been once attained. He 
 disagreed with me, and an argument royal ensued. 
 In the course of it he said that his only objection 
 lay in the degree of luxury in which the characters 
 of the new perfection lived. 
 
 " What harm is there in comfort and luxury to any 
 extent," I asked, " provided that all enjoy it ? " 
 
 " Luxury is all wrong," he answered severely. 
 " You perceive the sinful luxury in which I live," 
 waving his hand toward the excessively plain furni- 
 ture, and animadverting with special bitterness on 
 the silver forks and spoons. "It is all a fallacy that 
 we can raise those below us by remaining above them. 
 We must descend to their level in habits, intelligence, 
 and life ; then all will rise together." 
 
 44 Even bread must have yeast; and if we all make 
 
194 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 ourselves exactly alike, who is to act as yeast ? Are 
 we to adopt all vices of the lower classes? That 
 would be the speediest way of putting ourselves on a 
 complete equality with them. But if some of us do 
 not remain yeast, we shall all turn out the flattest 
 sort of dough." 
 
 " We certainly cannot change the position of a 
 thing unless we go close enough to grasp it, unless 
 we are on the same plane with it." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but being on the same plane does 
 not always answer. Did you ever see an acrobat try 
 that trick? He puts one leg on the table, then tries 
 to lift his whole body by grasping the other leg 
 and putting it on a level to begin with. Logically, 
 it ought to succeed and carry the body with it, if 
 your theory is correct. However, it remains merely 
 a curious and amusing experiment, likely to result 
 in a broken neck to any one not skilled in gymnas- 
 tics, and certain to end in a tumble even for the one 
 who is thus skilled." 
 
 He reiterated his arguments. I retorted that hu- 
 man beings were not moral kangaroos, who could 
 proceed by leaps, and that even the kangaroo is 
 obliged to allow the tip of his tail to follow his 
 paws. I said that in the moral as well as in the 
 physical world it is simply a choice between stand- 
 ing still and putting one foot before the other ; that 
 one cannot get upstairs by remaining on the bottom 
 step ; one member of the body must rise first. 
 
 We were obliged to agree to disagree, as usual, 
 but I fancy that he may have changed to my opin- 
 ion of the book and the subject by this time. I have 
 already noted that he is open to influence. 
 
 One evening, as we sat on the steps of the uncov- 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 195 
 
 ered terrace outside his study, the conversation fell 
 on the book which he was then engaged upon, and 
 which the countess had shown us that she was copy- 
 ing for the fourth time. He had been busy on it for 
 two years. Neither of them went into details nor 
 mentioned the plot, but I had heard on my arrival in 
 Russia, twenty months previously, that it related to 
 the murder of a woman by her husband, and had a 
 railway scene in it. I did not interrogate them, and 
 when the count said that he hoped I would translate 
 the book when it should be finished I accepted the 
 proposal with alacrity. I inquired whether I was to 
 read it then. 
 
 " You may if you wish," was the reply, " but I 
 shall probably make some changes, and I should pre- 
 fer that you would wait; but that shall be as you 
 please." 
 
 His wife said that he might suddenly take a fancy 
 to view the subject from an entirely different point, 
 and write the book all over. 
 
 I declined to anticipate my future pleasure by even 
 glancing at it, and I asked no questions. Neither 
 did I ask to see " The Fruits of Civilization," which 
 was already written and named. I was not there to 
 exploit their hospitality. 
 
 The count and his wife differed as to what ought 
 to be the fate of the coming volume. He wished to 
 give it to the world (that is, to some publisher) for 
 nothing. She argued that some one, the publisher at 
 least, would make money out of it ; then why not let 
 his own family have the profit, as was just? He in- 
 sisted that it was wrong, inconsistent, in the same 
 strain as he discusses the subject of his writings in 
 "What to Do?" But she urged him, in case he 
 
196 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 would not consent to justice, to leave the manuscript 
 with her, unpublished, so that the family could u^e 
 it after his death. (When the book was ready it 
 was named " The Kreutzer Sonata.") 
 
 I think that every one must side with the countess 
 in her view of this matter and in her management 
 of the family. It is owing solely to her that the 
 younger members of the family are receiving that 
 education to fit them for their struggle with life 
 which her husband bestowed upon the elder members 
 voluntarily. It is due to her alone, also, that her 
 husband is still alive. It is not an easy task to pro- 
 tect the count against himself. One adds to one's 
 admiration for the count's literary genius an admira- 
 tion for the countess's talent and good sense by an 
 extended acquaintance with this family. 
 
 More than one community has been organized for 
 the express purpose of carrying out the life of toil 
 which Count Tolstoy has advocated at times. One 
 of these communities, of which I had direct informa- 
 tion, purchased an estate of a landed proprietor, in- 
 cluding the manor house, and began to work. This 
 acquisition of an estate by them, while the count 
 would like to give away his as sinful to retain, does not 
 strike one as a good beginning. However, they did 
 not use the manor house, but lived in one small peas- 
 ant hut. " They all slept on the floor and benches, 
 men and women," said a Russian to me. A wealthy 
 man had sold his property to join this community 
 against the wishes of his wife, who accompanied him, 
 nevertheless. When her baby came, they allowed 
 her to occupy a room in the mansion and required no 
 work from her, since she had the care of the child. 
 " They never swept or scrubbed anything, and they 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 197 
 
 propagated every insect known to man, and probably 
 a few new ones." But the count lias never preached 
 tliis doctrine, or that an indefinite number of persons 
 should occupy a single cottage. Thus do his too en- 
 thusiastic disciples discredit him by running into 
 excesses. 
 
 So far as he is concerned, there is not the slightest 
 doubt that he would gladly attempt the life which 
 he advocates. But if he were to take up his resi- 
 dence in a peasant's cottage, and try to support him- 
 self on what his labors brought in exclusively, he 
 would be dead in less than a month. He suffers 
 from liver disease ; he has not been used to hard 
 labor from early youth ; he cannot, at his age, accus- 
 tom himself to it any more than he can compel his 
 stomach to accept a purely vegetable diet in place of 
 the meat diet on which he has been brought up. He 
 strives conscientiously to do it. Even the fits of ill- 
 ness caused by his severe treatment of himself do 
 not break his spirit. He exercises not the slightest 
 calculation or forethought in the care of his health, 
 either before it breaks down or afterwards. For ex- 
 ample : about five years ago he bruised his leg seri- 
 ously against the wheel of a peasant cart. Instead 
 of resting it, he persisted in working. Erysipelas 
 developed. The Tula doctor paid him numerous 
 visits, at fifteen rubles a visit. Then gangrene 
 threatened, and a doctor was sent for from Moscow. 
 He was a celebrity ; price three hundred and fifty 
 rubles. This was penny wise and pound foolish, of 
 course. But in all probability the count feels the re- 
 sponsibility of exerting his will in this matter of 
 labor all the more because it does not come easy to 
 him, and he attributes to weakness of will power 
 
198 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 what a peasant would recognize as simple physical 
 exhaustion. The peasant would not hesitate to climb 
 to the top of his oven and stay there until his ill- 
 ness was over, with not a thought whether the work 
 were done or not; and yet the peasant would work 
 far beyond the bounds of what one would suppose 
 that a man could endure. But Count Tolstoy over- 
 rates his powers of endurance, and, having exhausted 
 his forces in one desperate spurt, he is naturally 
 obliged to spend more than a corresponding amount 
 of time in recuperating, even if no serious complica- 
 tion intervenes ; and this gives rise to the accusation 
 of laziness and insincerity from those who chance to 
 see him in one of these intervals of rest. 
 
 Another point which is too often lost sight of by 
 people who disapprove of his labor theories is that, 
 while he advocates living in all respects like a peas- 
 ant, descending to that level in mind as well as in 
 body, which doctrine seems to include the incessant 
 toil of the masses, he has also announced his theory 
 that men should divide their time each day between 
 (1) hard labor unto perspiration and callosities ; (2) 
 the exercise of some useful handicraft; (3) exercise 
 of the brain in writing and reading; (4) social in- 
 tercourse; sixteen hours in all. This is not a pro- 
 gramme which a peasant could follow out. In sum- 
 mer, during the " suffering" season, the peasant toils 
 in the fields for nearly the whole of the twenty-four 
 hours instead of the four thus allotted. In winter, 
 when no field labor is possible, he is likely to spend 
 much more than four hours at whatever remunera- 
 tive handicraft he may be acquainted with, or in in- 
 tercourse with his fellow-men (detrimental as likely 
 as not), and a good deal less in reading at any season 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 199 
 
 of the year, for lack of instruction, interest, or books. 
 On the other hand, this reasonable regime is not 
 practicable for many men of othrr than peasant 
 rank. It happens to be perfectly practicable for 
 Count Tolst6y when his health permits. But as he 
 has also said much about doing everything for one's 
 self, earning in some form of common labor all that 
 one spends, those who remember this only, and who 
 know how little can be earned by a whole day's toil 
 in Russia, not to mention toil divided between two 
 branches, which agriculture does not permit, are not 
 altogether to blame for jumping to the conclusion 
 that the count makes no effort to practice what he 
 preaches. He does what he can. He is reproached 
 with having made over his property to his wife and 
 with living as before. It is really difficult to see 
 what other course is open to him. An unmarried 
 man, under obligations to no one but himself, may 
 reasonably be blamed for not carrying out the doc- 
 trine which he volunteers to teach the world. A 
 married man can only be blamed for volunteering the 
 doctrine. No blame can possibly attach to the wife 
 who defends the interest of the family to the extent 
 of working havoc with his doctrines. 
 
 Even if Count Tolst6y were able to support him- 
 self, he certainly could not support a wife and the 
 nine living children out of sixteen which he has had. 
 There is no justice in expecting the adult members 
 of the family to accept and practice his doctrines. 
 They do not compel him to accept theirs, though 
 they are in the majority. The little ones could not 
 feed themselves, even were they ideni peasant chil- 
 dren. It would be nearer the truth to say that the 
 countess has taken possession of the property ; she 
 
200 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 administers it wisely and economically, for the good 
 of the family and her husband. She issued, about 
 five years ago, a cheaper edition of her husband's 
 works, the only edition available hitherto having 
 been very expensive. The wisdom of her step was 
 proved by the large profits derived from it in the 
 course of three years, fifty thousand dollars, all 
 of which was applied to the needs of the family. 
 
 The count is not the only one at Yasnaya Polyana 
 to deny himself. For the past two winters the whole 
 family have remained on the estate, and have not 
 gone to Moscow, with the exception of one who is 
 in business at the capital, one member who is at 
 his studies, and one who is married and resides on 
 another estate. This is because the income did not 
 amount to a certain sum, a very moderate sum in 
 American eyes, without which a stay in town would 
 have been imprudent. 
 
 The question naturally follows: If the countess 
 holds the property, and the count continues to get 
 the good of it, in a modest way ; if the count does 
 not do everything for himself, and earn his daily 
 bread by manual toil, is not he mentally unbalanced 
 to proclaim his theories to the world, and to change 
 his mind so often on other points? 
 
 The answer is : No. Undoubtedly the count, when 
 he attained to his convictions on the subject of pov- 
 erty and labor, hoped to carry his family with him. 
 The countess, like a brave woman, like a devoted 
 wife and mother, refused to adopt his views. She is 
 willing to shoulder the responsibility of her refusal, 
 and her conduct is an honor to her. As for his 
 changes of doctrine, we are all very much like him 
 in the matter of inconsistency. Only, as very few 
 
COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 201 
 
 of us enjoy the renown or the authority of Count 
 Tolst6y, it rarely occurs to us to proclaim our pro- 
 gressive opinions to the world ; at most, one or two 
 experiences cure us of that weakness, even if any one 
 thinks it worth while to notice them in the slightest 
 degree. Very few of us are so deeply rooted in our 
 convictions, or so impressed with their importance 
 to the world as principles, that we will raise a finger 
 to defend them. We alternately know that we shall 
 never change them again, and suspect that we may 
 see something better at any moment ; and we re- 
 frain from committing ourselves unnecessarily in any 
 form which can be brought up against us hereafter. 
 
 The case is precisely the reverse with Count Tol- 
 stoy. He is so full of the missionary spirit, so per- 
 suaded of the truth and value of his beliefs, that he 
 rushes into print with them instantly. There they 
 are, all ready for those who do not sympathize with 
 him to use as missiles when he gets a new inspira- 
 tion. Change of opinion is generally progress. Con- 
 tinuity, an absolute lack of change, means stagnation 
 and death in the mental as well as in the physical 
 world. As the count is impressible and reads much, 
 his reading and meditation are fruitful of novelties, 
 which he bravely submits to the judgment of the 
 world without pausing to consider whether they coin- 
 cide with his other utterances or not. That he does 
 not always express his abstract ideas clearly is the 
 inevitable result of the lack of philosophical training. 
 
 But enthusiastic souls who grieve over the imper- 
 fections in the present organization of society are 
 always waiting for some one of warmer zeal to lead 
 them. Such persons perceive the ideal side of every 
 argument, interpret doctrines with their hearts, not 
 
202 COUNT TOLSTOY AT HOME. 
 
 with their heads, and are fired by the newest con- 
 ception of social relations. As one of the most 
 marked characteristics of Count Tolst6y lies in in- 
 fusing his own personality into every word he writes, 
 it is only natural that these people should adopt 
 him as their guide. It is not the fault of any one 
 in particular that he has abandoned a doctrine by 
 the time others have mastered it. The only refuge 
 is in the cry of Hamlet : 
 
 " The time is out of joint ; O cursed spite ! 
 That ever I was born to set it right." 
 
 Thus much I think I may say of the home life of 
 the famous Russian writer without sinning against 
 the duties imposed by the frank and cordial hospi- 
 tality for which we are indebted to the family. It 
 has seemed time to enter a protest against various 
 misrepresentations and misconceptions in regard to 
 them which are current. In conclusion, I beg leave 
 to explain that my spelling of the name is that used 
 by themselves when writing in English, and in print 
 upon their French cards. 
 
IX. 
 
 A EUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 IT was close on midnight when we left Yasnaya 
 Poly&na. A large and merry party of Count Tol- 
 st6y's children and relatives escorted us : some in the 
 baggage cart, perched on our luggage ; some in the 
 jaunting-car-like lineika with us, on our moonlight 
 drive to the litt'le station where we were to join the 
 train and continue our journey southward. 
 
 We should have preferred to travel by daylight, 
 as we were possessed of the genuine tourist greed for 
 seeing "everything ;" but in this case, as in many 
 others in Russia, the trains were not arranged so that 
 we could manage it. 
 
 There is very little variety along the road through 
 central Russia, but the monotony is of a different 
 character from that of the harsh soil and the birch 
 and pine forests of the north. The vast plains of 
 this tchernozyom the celebrated " black earth 
 zone" swell in long, low billows of herbage and 
 grain, diversified only at distant intervals by tracts 
 of woodland. But the wood is too scarce to meet the 
 demands for fuel, and the manure of the cattle, well 
 dried, serves to eke it out, a traveling native in our 
 compartment told us, instead of being used, as it 
 should be, to enrich the land, which is growing poor. 
 Now and then, substantial brick cottages shone out 
 amidst the gray and yellow of the thatched log huts 
 
204 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 in the hamlets. We heard of one landed proprietor 
 who encouraged his peasant neighbors to avoid the 
 scourge of frequent conflagrations by building with 
 brick, and he offered a prize to every individual who 
 should comply with the conditions. The prize con- 
 sisted of a horse from the proprietor's stables, and of 
 the proprietor's presence, in full uniform and all his 
 orders, at the house-warming. The advantages of 
 brick soon became so apparent to the peasants that 
 they continued to employ it, even after their patron 
 had been forced to abolish the reward, lest his horses 
 and his time should be utterly exhausted. 
 
 Minor incidents were not lacking to enliven our 
 long journey. In the course of one of the usual long 
 halts at a county town, a beggar came to the win- 
 dow of our carriage. He was a tall, slender young 
 fellow, about seven-and-twenty years of age. Though 
 he used the customary forms, " Give me something, 
 suddrynya.} if only a few kopeks, Khrista rddi/"* 
 there was something about him, despite his rags, 
 there was an elegance of accent in his language, to 
 which I was not accustomed in the " poor brethren " 
 generally. 
 
 I pretended ignorance of Russian and the sign lan- 
 guage, but watched him as I continued my conversa- 
 tion in English. Thereupon my man repeated his 
 demands in excellent French, with a good accent. I 
 turned on him. 
 
 " This is unusual," I said in Russian, by way of 
 hinting that I belonged to the category of the will- 
 fully deaf. " Accept my compliments on your know- 
 ledge of French and of Russian. But be so good as 
 to explain to me this mystery before I contribute." 
 1 Madam. 2 For Christ's sake. 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 205 
 
 " Madam," he retorted, " I 'd have you know that 
 I am a gentleman, a gentleman of education." 
 
 " Then pray solve the other mystery, why you, 
 strong, young, healthy, handsome, are a professional 
 beggar." 
 
 He stalked off in a huff. Evidently he was one of 
 that class of " decayed nobles " of whom I had heard 
 many curious tales in Moscow; only he had decayed 
 at a rather earlier age than the average. 
 
 As we proceeded southward, pretty Little Russian 
 girls took the place of the plainer-featured Great 
 Russian maidens. Familiar plants caught our eyes. 
 Mulleins "imperial sceptre" is the pretty Russian 
 name began to do sentinel duty along the road- 
 side ; sumach appeared in the thickets of the forests, 
 where the graceful cut-leaved birch of the north was 
 rare. The Lombardy poplar, the favorite of the 
 Little Russian poets, reared its dark columns in soli- 
 tary state. At last, Kieff, the Holy City, loomed 
 before us in the distance. 
 
 I know no town in Russia which makes so pictur- 
 esque and characteristic an impression on the traveler 
 as Kieff. From the boundless plain over which 
 we were speeding, we gazed up at wooded heights 
 crowned and dotted with churches. At the foot of 
 the slope, where golden domes and crosses, snowy 
 white monasteries and battlemented walls, gleamed 
 among masses of foliage punctuated with poplars, 
 swept the broad Dnye"pr. It did not seem difficult 
 then to enter into the feelings of Prince Oleg when 
 he reached the infant town, on his expedition from 
 unfertile N6vgorod the Great, of the north, against 
 Byzantium, and, coveting its rich beauty, slew its 
 rulers and entered into possession, saying, " This 
 
206 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 shall be the Mother of all Russian Cities." We 
 could understand the sentiments of the pilgrims who 
 flock to the Holy City by the million. 
 
 The agreeable sensation of approach being over, 
 our expectations, which had been waxing as the train 
 threaded its way through a ravine to the station, 
 received a shock. It was the shock to which we 
 were continually being subjected whenever we made 
 pious pilgrimages to places of historic renown. On 
 each occasion of this sort we were moved to reflect 
 deeply on the proverbial blessings of ignorance. It 
 makes a vast difference in one's mental comfort, I 
 find, whether he accepts the present unquestioningly, 
 with enthusiasm, and reconstructs the historic past 
 as an agreeable duty, or whether he already bears 
 the past, in its various aspects, in his mind, in invol- 
 untary but irrational expectation of meeting it, and 
 is forced to accept the present as a painful task ! 
 Which of these courses to pursue in the future was 
 the subject of my disappointed meditations, as we 
 drove through the too Europeanized streets, and 
 landed at a hotel of the same pattern. It is easy to 
 forgive St. Petersburg, in its giddy youth of one hun- 
 dred and seventy-five winters, for its Western fea- 
 tures and comforts ; but that Kieff, in its venerable 
 maturity of a thousand summers, should be so spick 
 and span with newness and reformation seemed at 
 first utterly unpardonable. The inhabitants think 
 otherwise, no doubt, and deplore the mediaeval hy- 
 gienic conditions which render the town the most 
 unhealthy in Europe, in the matter of the death-rate 
 from infectious diseases. 
 
 Our comfortable hotel possessed not a single char- 
 acteristic feature, except a line on the printed pla- 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 207 
 
 card of regulations posted in each room. The line 
 said, " The price of this room is four rubles [or 
 whatever it was] a day, except in Contract Time." 
 " Contract Time," I found, meant the Annual Fair, 
 in February, when the normal population of about 
 one hundred and sixty-six thousand is swelled by 
 "arrivers" as travelers are commonly designated 
 on the signboards of the lower-class hotels from 
 all the country round about. When, prompted by 
 this remarkable warning, I inquired the prices during 
 the fair, the clerk replied sweetly, no other word 
 will do justice to his manner, " All we can get ! " 
 Such frankness is what the French call " brutal." 
 
 The principal street of the town, the Krestchdtik, 
 formerly the bed of a stream, in front of our win- 
 dows, was in the throes of sewer-building. More 
 civilization ! Sewage from the higher land had 
 lodged there in temporary pools. The weather was 
 very hot. The fine large yellow bricks, furnished 
 by the local clay-beds, of which the buildings and 
 sidewalks were made, were dazzling with heat. It 
 is only when one leaves the low-lying new town, 
 and ascends the hills, on which the old dwellers 
 wisely built, or reaches the suburbs, that one begins 
 thoroughly to comprehend the enthusiastic praises of 
 many Russians who regard Kieff as the most beauti- 
 ful town in the empire. 
 
 The glare of the yellow brick melts softly into the 
 verdure of the residence quarter, and is tempered 
 into inoffensive ness in the Old Town by the admix- 
 ture of older and plainer structures, which refresh 
 the eye. But the chief charm, unfailing, inexhausti- 
 ble as the sight of the ocean, is the view from the 
 cliffs. Beyond the silver sweep of the river at their 
 
208 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 feet, animated with steamers and small boats, 
 stretches the illimitable steppe, where the purple 
 and emerald shadows of the sea depths and shallows 
 are enriched with hues of golden or velvet brown 
 and misty blue. The steppe is no longer an un- 
 broken expanse of waving plume-grass and flowers, 
 wherein riders and horses are lost to sight as, in 
 Gogol's celebrated tale, were Taras Bulba and his 
 sons, fresh from the famous Academy of Kieff, which 
 lies at our feet, below the cliffs. Increasing popula- 
 tion has converted this virgin soil into vast grain- 
 fields, less picturesque near at hand than the wild 
 growth, but still deserving, from afar, of Gogol's 
 enraptured apostrophe : " Devil take you, steppe, 
 how beautiful you are ! " 
 
 Naturally, our first pilgrimage was to the famous 
 Kievo-Petche'rskaya Ldvra, that is, the First-Class 
 Monastery of the Kieff Catacombs, the chief monas- 
 tic institution and goal of pilgrims in all the country, 
 of which we had caught a glimpse from the opposite 
 shore of the river, as we approached the town. 
 Buildings have not extended so densely in this direc- 
 tion but that a semblance of ascetic retirement is 
 still preserved. Between the monastery and the city 
 lies the city park, which is not much patronized by 
 the citizens, and for good reasons. To the rich wild- 
 ness of nature is added the wildness of man. Hordes 
 of desperadoes, " the barefoot brigade," the dregs of 
 the local population, have taken up their residence 
 there every spring, of late years, in the ravines and 
 the caves which they have excavated, in humble 
 imitation of the holy men of the monastery of old. 
 From time to time the police make a skirmish there, 
 but an unpleasant element of danger is still con- 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 209 
 
 nected with a visit to this section of the city's heart, 
 whicli di-ters most people from making the attempt. 
 
 Beyond this lie the heights, on which stand the 
 fortress and the Catacombs Monastery. Opposite 
 the arsenal opens the " Holy Gate ; " all Russian 
 monasteries seem to have a holy gate. " The wall, 
 fourteen feet in height, and more in some places, sur- 
 rounding the principal court, was built by Hetman 
 Mazeppa," says the local guide-book. Thus promptly 
 did we come upon traces of that dashing Kazak chief- 
 tain, who would seem, judging from the solid silver 
 tombs for saints, the churches, academy, and many 
 other offerings of that nature in Kieff alone, to have 
 spent the intervals between his deeds of outrageous 
 treachery and immorality in acts of ostentatious 
 piety.- In fact, his piety had an object, as piety of 
 that rampant variety usually has. He meditated 
 betraying Little Russia into the power of Poland; 
 and knowing well how heartily the Little Russians 
 detested the Poles because of the submission to the 
 Pope of Rome in those Greek churches designated as 
 Uniates, he sought to soothe their suspicions and 
 allay their fears by this display of attachment to the 
 national church. His vaingloriousness was shown by 
 his habit of having his coat of arms placed on bells, 
 ikonostdsi, 1 and windows of the churches he built. 
 In one case, he caused his portrait to be inserted in 
 the holy door of the ikonostds, a very improper 
 procedure, where it remained until the middle of 
 the last century. Highly colored frescoes of the 
 special monastery saints and of historical incidents 
 adorned the wall outside the holy gate. Inside, we 
 found a monk presiding over a table, on which stood 
 
 1 Image screens. 
 
210 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 the image of the saint of the day, a platter covered 
 with a cross-adorned cloth, for offerings, and various 
 objects of piety for sale. 
 
 The first thing which struck us, as we entered the 
 great court, was the peculiar South Kussian taste for 
 filling in the line of roof between the numerous domes 
 with curving pediments and tapering turned-wood 
 spirelets surmounted by golden stars and winged 
 seraphs' heads surrounded by rays. The effect of so 
 many points of gold against the white of the walls, 
 combined with the gold of the crosses, the high tints 
 of the external frescoes, and the gold of the cupolas, 
 is very brilliant, no doubt ; but it is confusing, and 
 constitutes what, for want of a better word, I must 
 call a Byzantine-rococo style of architecture. The 
 domes, under Western influence, during the many 
 centuries when Kieff was divorced from Russia, under 
 Polish and Lithuanian rule, assumed forms which 
 lack the purity and grace of those in Russia proper. 
 Octagonal cupolas supported on thick, sloping bases 
 involuntarily remind one of the cup-and-ball game. 
 Not content with this degenerate beginning, they 
 pursue their errors heavenward. Instead of terminat- 
 ing directly in a cross, they are surmounted by a lan- 
 tern frescoed with saints, a second octagonal dome, a 
 ball, and a cross. These octagons constitute a fea- 
 ture in all South Russian churches. 
 
 Along the sides of the court leading to the great 
 Assumption Cathedral stood long, plain one and two 
 story buildings, the cells of the monks. Rugs of fine 
 coloring and design were airing on the railings in 
 front of them. I examined their texture, found it 
 thick and silky, but could not class it with any manu- 
 facture of my acquaintance. I looked about for some 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 211 
 
 one to question. A monk was approaching. His 
 long, abundant hair flowed in waves from beneath 
 the black veil which hung from his tall, cylindrical 
 klobtik, resembling a rimless silk hat. His artistically 
 cut black robe fell in graceful folds. I should de- 
 scribe him as dandified, did I dare apply such an 
 adjective to an ecclesiastical recluse. I asked him 
 where such rugs were to be found. He answered 
 that they were of peasant manfuacture, and that I 
 could probably find them in Podol, the market below 
 the cliffs. These specimens had been presented to 
 the monastery by " zealous benefactors." 
 
 Then he took his turn at questioning. I presume 
 that my accent was not perfect, or that I had omitted 
 some point of etiquette in which an Orthodox Russian 
 would have been drilled, such as asking his blessing 
 and kissing his hand in gratitude, by way of saying 
 44 good-morning," or something of that sort. His 
 manner was that o a man of the world, artistically 
 tinged with monastic conventionality, and I wondered 
 whether he were not an ex-officer of the Guards who 
 had wearied of Court and gayeties. He offered to 
 show us about, and took us to the printing-house, 
 founded in the sixteenth century. It is still one of 
 the best and most extensive in the country, with a 
 department of chromo-lithography attached for the 
 preparation of cheap pictures of saints. One of the 
 finest views in town is from the balcony at the rear 
 of this building, and the monk explained all the 
 points to us. 
 
 There was an air of authority about our im- 
 promptu guide, and the profound reverences bestowed 
 upon him and upon us by the workmen in the print- 
 ing-house, as well as by all the monks whom we met, 
 
212 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 prompted me to inquire, as we parted from him, to 
 whom we were indebted for such interesting guidance 
 and explanations. 
 
 " I am otetz kaznatchei" he replied, with a smile, 
 as he not only offered his hand, but grasped mine and 
 shook it, with an expression of his cordial good 
 wishes, instead of bestowing upon me a mechanical 
 cross in the air, and permitting me to kiss his plump 
 little fingers in return, as he would undoubtedly have 
 done had I been a Russian. I understood the respect 
 paid, and our reflected importance, when I discovered 
 that the u Father Treasurer " occupies the highest 
 rank next to the permanent head of the monastery 
 officially, and the most important post of all practi- 
 cally. 
 
 Shortly after, the question fever having attacked 
 me again, I accosted another monk, equal in stateli- 
 ness of aspect to the Father Treasurer. He informed 
 me that from seven hundred to one thousand persons 
 lived in the monastery. Not all of them were monks, 
 some being only lay brethren. Each monk, however, 
 had his own apartments, with a little garden attached, 
 and the beautiful rugs which I had seen formed 
 part of the furnishings of their cells. A man cannot 
 enter the monastery without money, but fifty rubles 
 (about twenty-five dollars) are sufficient to gain him 
 admittance. Some men leave the monastery after a 
 brief trial, without receiving the habit. " In such 
 a throng one comes to know many faces," he said, 
 "but not all persons." 
 
 I inquired whether it were not a monotonous, tire- 
 some life. 
 
 " It seems so to you ! " he replied, when he had 
 recovered from his amazement; and when I mentioned 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 213 
 
 the liturgy which is peculiar to the monastery cathe- 
 dral, and famed throughout Russia as " the Kierf- 
 Catacombs singing," all he found to say was, " It is 
 very long." 
 
 He took advantage of the chance presented by a 
 trip to his cell to get us some water, to remove his 
 tall klobuk. He must have read in our glances 
 admiration of his beauty mingled with a doubt as to 
 whether it were not partly due to this becoming cowl 
 and veil, and determined to convince us that it was 
 nature, not adventitious circumstances, in his case. I 
 think he must have been content with the expression 
 of our faces, as he showed us the way to the most an- 
 cient of all the churches in Kieff, in Russia, in fact, 
 built by Prince-Saint Vladimir immediately after 
 his return from the crusade in search of baptism. 
 
 The church door was locked. The wife of the 
 deacon in charge was paddling about barefooted, in 
 pursuit of her fowls, in the long grass of the door- 
 yard. She abandoned the chickens and hunted up 
 her husband, who took a peep at us, and then kept 
 us waiting while he donned his best cassock before 
 escorting us. 
 
 It is a very small, very plain church which ad- 
 joined Prince Vladimir's summer palace, long since 
 destroyed, and still preserves its gallery for women 
 and servants, and a box for the ladies of the house- 
 hold. Everything about it is nine hundred years old, 
 except the roof and the upper portion of the walls. 
 The archaic frescoes of angels in the chancel, which 
 date from the same period, and are the best in Kieff, 
 were the only objects which the deacon could find to 
 expound, to enhance the "tea-money" value of his 
 services in putting on his best gown and unlocking 
 
214 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 the door, and he performed his duty meekly, but 
 firmly. We did ours by him, and betook ourselves 
 to the principal church, the Cathedral of the As- 
 sumption, where less is left to the imagination. 
 
 There, very few of the frescoes are more than a 
 hundred and sixty years old, the majority dating 
 back less than sixty years, and being in a style to 
 suit the rococo gilt carving, and the silver-gilt Impe- 
 rial Gate to the altar. In the pdpert, or corridor- 
 vestibule, a monk who was presiding over a Book 
 of Eternal Remembrance invited us to enter our 
 subscriptions for general prayers to be said on our 
 behalf, or for special prayers to be said before the 
 " wonder-working image" of the- Assumption so long 
 as the monastery shall exist. 
 
 " We are not pravosldvny " (Orthodox Christians), 
 I said. But, instead of being depressed by this tacit 
 refusal, he brightened up and plied us with a series 
 of questions, until he really seemed to take a tem- 
 porary interest in life, in place of his permanent 
 official interest in death alone, or chiefly. 
 
 Service was in progress, in accordance with the 
 canons of the Studieff monastery, adopted by St. 
 Fed6sy in the eleventh century. The singers, placed 
 in an unusual position, in the centre of the church, 
 were as remarkable for their hair as for their voices 
 and execution. The russet-brown and golden locks 
 of some of them fell in heavy waves to their waists. 
 In fact, long, waving hair seemed to be a specialty 
 with the monks of this monastery, and they wore it 
 in braids when off duty. I had seen priests in St. 
 Petersburg who so utterly beyond a doubt frizzed 
 their scanty hair on days of grand festivals, that the 
 three tufts pertaining to the three too slender hair- 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 215 
 
 pins on which they had been done up stood out in 
 painfully isolated disagreement. What would they 
 not have given for such splendid manes as these 
 Kieff singers possessed ! 
 
 We ascended to the gallery, to obtain a better 
 view of the scene. Peasant men in sheepskins (tu- 
 lfi/>i), the temperature verged on 100 Fahrenheit, 
 - in coats of dark brown homespun wool girt with 
 sashes which had once been bright; female pilgrims 
 in wadded coats girt into shapelessness over cotton 
 gowns of brilliant hues, knelt in prayer all about the 
 not very spacious floor. Their traveling-sacks on 
 their backs, the tin tea-kettles and cooking parapher- 
 nalia at their belts, swayed into perilous positions 
 as they rocked back and forth, striking the floor 
 devoutly with their brows, rising only to throw back 
 their long hair, cross themselves rapidly, and resume 
 the " ground salutations," until we were fairly dizzy 
 at the sight. Some of them placed red, yellow, or 
 green tapers the first instance of such a taste in 
 colors which we had observed on the sharp points 
 of the silver candelabra standing before the holy 
 pictures in the ikonostds, already overcrowded. A 
 monk was incessantly engaged in removing the tapers 
 when only half consumed, to make way for the ever- 
 swelling flood of fresh tapers. Another monk was 
 as incessantly engaged in receiving the prosfori. A 
 profford is leavened bread in the shape of a tiny 
 double loaf, which is sold at the doors of churches, 
 and bears on its upper surface certain symbolic signs, 
 as a rule. The Communion is prepared from similar 
 loaves by the priest, who removes certain portions 
 with a spear-shaped knife, and places them in the 
 wine of the chalice. The wine and bread are ad- 
 
216 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 ministered with a spoon to communicants. From 
 the loaves bought at the door pieces are cut in memory 
 of dead friends, whose souls are to be prayed for, 
 or of living friends, whose health is prayed for by 
 the priest at a certain point of the service, in accord- 
 ance with the indications sent up to the altar with 
 the loaves on slips of paper, such as " For the soul 
 of Ivan Vasilievitch," " For the health of Tatiana 
 Pa-vlovna." Thus is preserved the memory of early 
 Christian times, when the Christians brought wine 
 and oil and bread for their worship; and the best 
 having been selected for sacred use, portions were 
 taken from the remainder in memory of those who 
 sent or brought them, after the rest was used to 
 refresh the congregation during a pause in the all- 
 night service between vespers and matins. After 
 the service, in our modern times, the prosfori are 
 given back to the owners, who cross themselves and 
 eat the bread reverently on the spot or elsewhere, 
 as blessed but not sacramental. At this monas- 
 tery, the prosfori prepared for memorial use had a 
 group of the local saints stamped on top, instead of 
 the usual cross and characters. It is considered a 
 delicate attention on the part of a person who has 
 been on a pilgrimage to any of the holy places to 
 bring back a protford for a friend. It is very good 
 when sliced and eaten with tea, omitting the bottom 
 crust, which may have been dated in ink by the pil- 
 grim. Some of the peasants at this monastery church 
 sent in to be blessed huge packages of prosfori tied 
 up in gay cotton kerchiefs. 
 
 The service ended, and the chief treasure of the 
 monastery, the miraculous image of the Assumption 
 of the Virgin, the Falling Asleep of the Virgin is 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 217 
 
 the Russian name, was let slowly clown on its silken 
 cords from above the Imperial Gate, where a twelve- 
 fold silver lamp, with glass cups of different colors, 
 Las burned un quenched since 1812, in commemora- 
 tion of Russia's deliverance from " the twelve tribes," 
 as the French invasion is termed. The congregation 
 pressed forward eagerly to salute the venerated 
 image. Tradition asserts that it was brought from 
 Constantinople to Kieff in the year 1073, with the 
 Virgin's special blessing for the monastery. By rea- 
 son of age and the smoke from conflagrations in 
 which the monastery has suffered, the image is so 
 darkened that one is cast back upon one's imagina- 
 tion and the copies for comprehension of this treas- 
 ure's outlines. What is perfectly comprehensible, 
 however, is the galaxy of diamonds, brilliants, and 
 gems thickly set in the golden garments which cover 
 all but the hands and feet of the personages in the 
 picture, and illuminate it with flashes of many-hued 
 light. After a few minutes, the image was drawn 
 up again to its place, a most, unusual position for 
 a valued holy image, though certainly safe, and one 
 not occupied, so far as I am aware, by any other in 
 the country. 
 
 It occurred to us that it might prove an interest- 
 ing experiment to try the monastery inn for break- 
 fast, and even to sojourn there for a day or two, and 
 abandon the open sewers and other traces of advanced 
 civilization in the town. Our way thither led past 
 the free lodgings for poor pilgrims, which were 
 swarming with the devout of both sexes, although it 
 was not the busiest season for shrine-visiting. That 
 comes in the spring, before the harvest, at all mon- 
 asteries, and, in this particular monastery, on the 
 
218 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 feast of the Assumption, August 15 (Russian style), 
 27 (European style). But there was a sufficient 
 contingent of the annual one million pilgrims pres- 
 ent to give us a very fair idea of the reverence in 
 which this, the chief of all Russian monasteries, is 
 held, and of the throngs which it attracts. But, as 
 usual in Russia, sight alone convinced us of their 
 existence ; they were chatting quietly, sitting and 
 lying about with enviable calmness, or eating the sour 
 black bread and boiled buckwheat groats provided 
 by the monastery. I talked with several of them, 
 and found them quite unconscious that they were not 
 comfortably, even luxuriously, housed and fed. 
 
 The inn for travelers of means was a large, plain, 
 airy building, with no lodgers, apparently. The 
 monks seemed frightened at the sight of us. That 
 was a novelty. But they escorted us over the house 
 in procession. We looked at a very clean, very 
 plain room, containing four beds. It appeared, from 
 their explanations, that pilgrims have gregarious 
 tastes, and that this was their nearest approach to a 
 single room. I inquired the price. " According to 
 your zeal," was the reply. How much more effec- 
 tive than " What you please " in luring the silver 
 from lukewarm pockets ! The good monks never 
 found out how warm our zeal was, after all, for the 
 reason that their table was never furnished with any- 
 thing but fish and " fasting food," they said, though 
 there was no fast in progress. The reason why, I 
 could not discover ; but we knew our own minds 
 thoroughly on the subject of " fasting food," from 
 mushroom soup, fish fried in sunflower oil, and coffee 
 without milk to that most insipid of dessert dishes, 
 kisel, made of potato flour, sweetened, and slightly 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 219 
 
 soured with fruit juice. They told us that we might 
 have meat sent out from town, if we wished; but 
 as the town lay several versts distant, that did not 
 seem a very practical way of coquetting with the 
 Evil One under their roof. Accordingly, we with- 
 drew ; to their relief, I am sure. As we had already 
 lived in a monastery inn, it had not occurred to us 
 that there could be any impropriety in doing so, but 
 that must have been the cause of their looks of 
 alarm. I believe that one can remain for a fortnight 
 at this inn without payment, unless conscience inter- 
 feres ; and people who had stayed there told me that 
 meat had been served to them from the monastery 
 kitchen ; so that puzzle still remains a puzzle to me. 
 
 We went to see the brethren dine in the refectory, 
 an ancient, vaulted building of stone, near the cathe- 
 dral. Under a white stone slab near the entrance lie 
 the bodies of Kotchubey and Iskra, who were unjustly 
 executed by Peter the Great for their loyal denun- 
 ciation of Mazeppa's meditated treachery. Within, 
 the walls of the antechamber were decorated with 
 dizzy perspective views of Jerusalem, the saints, and 
 pious elders of the monastery. At the end of the 
 long din ing-hall, beyond an ikonostds, was a church, 
 as is customary in these refectories. Judging from 
 the number of servitors whom we had met hurrying 
 towards the cells with sets of porcelain dinner-trays, 
 not many monks intended to join the common table, 
 and it did not chance to be one of the four days in 
 the year when the Metropolitan of Kieff and other 
 dignitaries dine there in full vestments. 
 
 At last, a score of monks entered, chanted a prayer 
 at a signal from a small bell, and seated themselves 
 on benches affixed to the wall which ran round three 
 
220 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 sides of the room. The napkins on the tables which 
 stood before the benches consisted of long towels, 
 each of which lay across four or five of the pewter 
 platters from which they ate, as the table was set in 
 preparation. If it had been a festal clay, there would 
 have been several courses, with beer, mead, and even 
 wine to wash them down. As it was, the monks ate 
 their black bread and boiled buckwheat groats, served 
 in huge dishes, with their wooden spoons, and drank 
 Jcvas, brewed from sour black bread, at a signal from 
 the bell, after the first dish only, as the rule requires. 
 While they ate, a monk, stationed at a desk near by, 
 read aloud the extracts from the Lives of the Saints 
 appointed for the day. This was one of the " sights," 
 but we found it curious and melancholy to see strong, 
 healthy men turned into monks and content with that 
 meagre fare. Frugality and dominion over the flesh 
 are good, of course, but minds from west of the At- 
 lantic Ocean never seem quite to get into sympathy 
 with the monastic idea ; and we always felt, when we 
 met monks, as though they ought all to be off at 
 work somewhere, - I will not say " earning money," 
 for they do that as it is in such great monasteries as 
 that of Kieff, but lightening the burden of the peas- 
 ants, impossible as that is under present conditions, 
 or making themselves of some commonplace, practi- 
 cal use in the world. 
 
 The strongest point of the Lavra, even equal to 
 the ancient and venerated ikdna of the Assumption 
 in the great cathedral, is the catacombs, from which 
 the convent takes its name. 
 
 In the days of the early princes of Kieff, the 
 heights now occupied by the Lavra were covered with 
 a dense growth of birch forest, and entirely uninhab- 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 221 
 
 ited. Later on, one of the hills was occupied by the 
 village of Ber6stovo, and a palace was built adjoining 
 the tiny ancient "Church of the Saviour in the Birch 
 Forest," which I have already mentioned. It was the 
 favorite residence of Prince-Saint Vladimir, and of 
 his son, Prince Yaroslaif, after him. During the 
 reign of the latter, early in the eleventh century, the 
 priest of this little church, named Ilari<5n, excavated 
 for himself a tiny cave, and there passed his time in 
 devout meditation and solitary prayer. He aban- 
 doned his cave to become Metropolitan of Kit-ff. In 
 the year 1051, the monk Ant6ny, a native of the 
 neighboring government of Tchermgoff, came to Kieif 
 from Mount Athos, being dissatisfied with the life 
 led in the then existing monasteries. After long 
 wanderings over the hills of Kieff, he took possession 
 of Ilarion's cave, and spent his days and nights in 
 pious exercises. The fame of his devout life soon 
 spread abroad, and attracted to him, for his blessing, 
 not only the common people, but persons of distinc- 
 tion. Monks and worldlings flocked thither to join 
 him in his life of prayer. Among the first of these 
 to arrive was a youth of the neighborhood, named 
 Fed6sy. Antony hesitated, but at last accepted the 
 enthusiastic recruit. 
 
 The dimensions of holy Ant6ny's cave were grad- 
 ually enlarged ; new cells, and even a tiny church, 
 were constructed near it. Then Ant6ny, who dis- 
 liked communal life, retreated to the height opposite, 
 separated from his first residence by a deep ravine, 
 and dug himself another cave, where no one inter- 
 fered with him. This was the origin of the caves of 
 Fed6sy, known at the present day as the "far cata- 
 combs," and of the caves of Antony, called the " near 
 
222 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 catacombs." The number of the monks continued 
 to increase, and they soon erected a small wooden 
 church aboveground, in the name of the Assumption 
 of the Blessed Virgin, as well as cells for those who 
 could not be contained in the caverns. At the re- 
 quest of holy Antony, the prince gave the whole of 
 the heights where the catacombs are situated to the 
 brethren, and in 1062 a large new monastery, sur- 
 rounded by a stockade, was erected on the spot where 
 the Cathedral of the Assumption now stands. Thus 
 was monastic life introduced into Russia. 
 
 The venerated monastery shared all the vicissitudes 
 of the "Mother of all Russian Cities" in the wars 
 of the Grand Princes and the incursions of external 
 enemies, such as Poles and Tatars. But after each 
 disaster it waxed greater and more flourishing. Re- 
 stored, after a disastrous fire in 1718, by the zeal of 
 Peter the Great and his successors, enriched by the 
 gifts of all classes, the Lavra now consists of six mon- 
 asteries, like a university of colleges, four situ- 
 ated within the in closure, while two are at a distance 
 of several versts, and serve as retreats and as places 
 of burial for the brethren. 
 
 The catacombs, abandoned as residences on the 
 construction of the cells above ground, have not es- 
 caped disasters by caving in. Drains to carry off the 
 percolating water, and stone arches to support the soil, 
 have been constructed, and a flourishing orchard has 
 been planted above them to aid in holding the soil 
 together. Earthquakes in the thirteenth and six- 
 teenth centuries permanently closed many of them, 
 and when the Tatars attacked the town, in the thir- 
 teenth century, the monks boarded up all the niches 
 and filled in the entrances with earth. Some of these 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 223 
 
 boards were removed about a hundred years ago ; 
 some are still in place. The original extent of the 
 caves cannot now be determined. 
 
 The entrance to the near catacombs of St. Ant6ny 
 is through a long wooden gallery supported on stone 
 posts, at a sharp slope, as they are situated twenty- 
 four fathoms below the level of the cathedral,. and 
 twenty-two fathoms above the level of the Dnye'pr. 
 
 A fat merchant, with glowing black eyes and flow- 
 ing, crisp, black beard, his tall, wrinkled boots barely 
 visible beneath his long, full-skirted coat of dark blue 
 cloth, hooked closely across his breast, descended the 
 gallery with us. Roused to curiosity, probably, by 
 our foreign tongue, he inquired, on the chance of our 
 understanding Russian, whence we came. 
 
 I had already arrived at the conclusion that the 
 people at Kieff, especially the monks and any one 
 who breathed the atmosphere within their walls, were 
 of an enterprising, inquisitive disposition. My last 
 encounter had been with the brother detailed, for 
 his good looks and fascinating manners, to preside 
 over the chief image shop of the monastery. 
 
 " Where do you come from ?" he had opened fire, 
 with his most bewitching glance. 
 
 " From the best country on earth." 
 
 " Is it Germany ? " 
 
 The general idea among the untraveled classes in 
 Russia is, that all of the earth which does not belong 
 to their own Emperor belongs to Germany, just as 
 nyemetzky means " German " or " foreign," indiffer- 
 ently. 
 
 " No ; guess again," I said. 
 
 " France?" 
 
 "No; further away." 
 
224 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 " England, then ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Hungary ? " 
 
 Evidently that man's geography was somewhat 
 mixed, so I told him. 
 
 " America ! " he exclaimed, with great vivacity. 
 *' Yes, indeed, it is the best land of all. It is the 
 richest ! " 
 
 So that is the monastic as well as the secular stand- 
 ard of worth! This experience, repeated frequently 
 and nearly word for word, had begun to weary me. 
 Consequently I led the fat merchant a verbal chase, 
 and baffled him until he capitulated with, u Excuse 
 me. Take no offense, I beg, suddrynya. I only asked 
 so by chance." Then I told him with the same 
 result. 
 
 This was not the last time, by many, that I was 
 put through my national catechism in Kieff. Every 
 Kievlyanin to whom I spoke quizzed me. Of course I 
 was on a grand quizzing tour myself, but that was 
 different, in some way. 
 
 Over the entrance to these catacombs stands a 
 church. The walls of the vestibule where my mother, 
 the merchant, and I waited for a sufficient party to 
 assemble, were covered with frescoes representing 
 the passage of the soul through the various stages of 
 purgatory. Beginning with the death scene (which 
 greatly resembled the iktina of the Assumption in 
 the cathedral) in the lower left-hand corner, the 
 white-robed soul, escorted by two angels, passed 
 through all the halting-places for the various sins, 
 each represented by the appointed devil, duly la- 
 beled. But the artist's fancy had not been very 
 fruitful on this fascinating theme. The devils were 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 225 
 
 so exactly alike tlitit the only moral one could draw 
 was, that he might as well commit the biggest and 
 most profitable sin on the list, and make something 
 out of it in this life, as to confine himself to the 
 petty peccadilloes which profit not here, and get well 
 punished hereafter. The series ended with the pre- 
 sentation of the soul before the judgment seat, on 
 the fortieth day after death. Round the corner, Laz- 
 arus reclining in Abraham's bosom and the rich man 
 in the flames were conversing, their remarks crossing 
 each other in mid-air, in a novel fashion. 
 
 When the guide was ready, each of us bought a 
 taper, and the procession set out through the iron 
 grating, down a narrow, winding stair, from which 
 low, dark passages opened out at various angles. On 
 eac-h side of these narrow passages, along which we 
 were led, reposed the " incorruptible " bodies of St. 
 Antony and his comrades, in open coffins lacquered 
 or covered with sheets of silver. The bodies seemed 
 very small, and all of one size, and they were wrapped 
 in hideous prints or plaid silks. At the head of each 
 saint flickered a tiny shrine-lamp, before a holy pic- 
 ture (iktina) of the occupant of the coffin. It was a 
 surprise to find the giant Ily& of Murom, who figures 
 as the chief of the bogatyri (heroes) in the Russian 
 epic songs, ensconced here among the saints, and no 
 larger than they. Next to the silk-enveloped head 
 of St. John the Great Sufferer, which still projects 
 as in life, when he buried himself to the neck in the 
 earth, as though he were not sufficiently under- 
 ground already, in order to preserve his purity, 
 the most gruesome sight which we beheld in those 
 dim catacombs was a group of chrism-exuding skulls 
 of unknown saints, under glass bells. 
 
226 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 On emerging from this gloomy retreat, we post- 
 poned meditating upon the special pleasure which 
 the Lord was supposed to have taken in seeing beings 
 made to live aboveground turning into troglodytes, 
 and set out for the Fedosy, or far catacombs, in the 
 hope that they might assist us in solving that 
 problem. 
 
 We chose the most difficult way, descending into 
 the intervening ravine by innumerable steps to view 
 the two sacred wells, only to have our raging thirst 
 and our curiosity effectually quenched by the sight 
 of a pilgrim thrusting his head, covered with long, 
 matted hair, into one of them. The ascent of more 
 innumerable steps brought us to the cradle of the 
 monastery, Ilarion's caverns. 
 
 In the antechamber we found a phenomenally stu- 
 pid monk presiding over the sale of the indispensable 
 tapers, and the offerings which the devout are expected 
 to deposit, on emerging, as a memento of their visit. 
 These offerings lay like mountains of copper before 
 him. The guide had taken himself off somewhere, 
 and the monk ordered us, and the five Russians who 
 were also waiting, to go in alone and " call to the 
 monk in the cave." We flatly declined to take his 
 word that there was any monk, or to venture into the 
 dangerous labyrinth alone, and we demanded that he 
 should accompany us. 
 
 " No guide no candles, no coppers," we said. 
 
 That seemed to him a valid argument. Loath to 
 leave his money at the mercy of chance comers, he 
 climbed up and closed the iron shutters of the grated 
 window, the cliff descended, sheer, one hundred 
 and two feet to the Dnyepr at that point, double- 
 locked the great iron doors, and there we were in a 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 227 
 
 bank vault, with all possible customers excluded. 
 Luckily, the saints in these caverns, which differed 
 very little from those in the former, were labeled in 
 plain letters, since the monk was too dull-witted to 
 understand the simplest questions from any of us. 
 At intervals we were permitted a hasty glimpse of a 
 cell, about seven feet square, furnished only with a 
 stone bench, and a holy picture, with a shrine-lamp 
 suspended before it. Ugh ! There were several sets 
 of chrism-dripping saintly skulls in these catacombs, 
 also, fifteen of the ghastly things in one group. I 
 braced my stomach to the task, and scrutinized them 
 all attentively ; but not a single one of them winked 
 or nodded at me in approval, as a nun from Kolomna, 
 whom I had met in Moscow, asserted that they had 
 at her. I really wished to see how an eyeless skull 
 could manage a wink, and hoped I might be favored. 
 After traversing long distances of this subterra- 
 nean maze, and peering into the " cradle of the mon- 
 astery," St. Ant6ny's cell, the procession came to a 
 halt in a tiny church. There stood a monk, actually, 
 though we might have wandered all day and come 
 out on the banks of the Dnye*pr without finding him, 
 had we gone in without a guide. Beside him, de- 
 nuded of its glass bell, stood one of the miraculous 
 skulls. The first Russian approached, knelt, crossed 
 himself devoutly, and received from the priest the 
 sign of the cross on his brow, administered with a 
 soft, small brush dipped in the oil from the skull. 
 Then he kissed the priest's hand, crossed himself 
 again, and kissed the skull. When we beheld this, 
 we modestly stood aside, and allowed our compan- 
 ions, the other four Russian men, to receive anoint- 
 ment in like manner, and pass on after the monk, 
 
228 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 who was in haste to return to bis bank vault. As I 
 approached the priest, he raised his brush. 
 
 " We are not Orthodox Christians, bdtiushka," l 
 I said. " But pray give us your blessing." 
 
 He smiled, and, dropping his brush, made the sign 
 of the cross over us. I was perfectly willing to kiss 
 his pretty, plump hand, I had become very skillful 
 at that sort of thing, but I confess that I shrank 
 from the obligatory salute to the skull, and from that 
 special chrism. Nevertheless, I wished the Russians 
 to think that I had gone through with the whole cere- 
 mony, if they should chance to look back. I felt 
 sure that I could trust the priest to be liberal, but I 
 was not so certain that our lay companions, who were 
 petty traders and peasants, might not be sufficiently 
 fanatical to construe our refusal into disrespect for 
 their church, and resent it in some way. 
 
 Though we returned to the monastery more than 
 once after that, we were never attracted to the cata- 
 combs again, not even to witness the mass at seven 
 o'clock in the morning in that subterranean church. 
 The beautiful services in the cathedral, the stately 
 monks, the picturesque pilgrims, with their gentle 
 manners, ingenuous questions, and simple tales of 
 their journeys and beliefs, furnished us with abun- 
 dant interest in the cheerful sunlight aboveground. 
 
 Next to the Catacombs Monastery, the other most 
 famous and interesting sight of Kieff is the Cathe- 
 dral of St. Sophia. Built on the highest point of the 
 ancient city, with nine apses turned to the east, 
 crowned by one large dome and fourteen smaller 
 domes, all gilded, some terminating in crosses, 
 some in sunbursts, surrounded by turf and trees 
 1 Little father. 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 229 
 
 within a white wall, with entrance under a lofty bel- 
 fry, it produces an imposing but reposeful effect. 
 The ancient walls, dating from the year 1020, are 
 of red brick intermixed with stone, stuccoed and 
 washed with white. It has undergone changes, ex- 
 ternal and internal, since that day, and its domes 
 and spires are of the usual degenerate South Rus- 
 sian type, without a doubt of comparatively recent 
 construction. So many of its windows have been 
 blocked up by additions, and so cut up is its space 
 by large frescoed pillars, into sixteen sections, that 
 one steps from brilliant sunshine into deep twilight 
 when he enters the cathedral. It is a sort of church 
 which possesses in a high degree that indefinable 
 charm of sacred atmosphere that tempts one to linger 
 on and on indefinitely within its precincts. Not that 
 it is so magnificent ; many churches in the two capi- 
 tals and elsewhere in Russia are far richer. It is 
 simply one of those indescribable buildings which 
 console one for disappointments in historical places, 
 as a rule, by making one believe, through sensations 
 unconsciously influenced, not through any effort of 
 the reason, that ancient deeds and memories do, in 
 truth, linger about their birthplace. 
 
 Ancient frescoes, discovered about forty years ago, 
 some remaining in their original state, others touched 
 np with more or less skill and knowledge, mingle 
 harmoniously with those of more recent date. Very 
 singular are the best preserved, representing hunting 
 parties and banquets of the Grand Princes, and scenes 
 from the earthly life of Christ. But they are on the 
 staircase leading to the old-fashioned gallery, and do 
 not disturb the devotional character of the decora- 
 tion in the church itself. 
 
230 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 From the wall of the apse behind the chief of the 
 ten altars gazes down the striking image of the Vir- 
 gin, executed in ancient mosaic, with her hands raised 
 in prayer, whom the people reverently call " The 
 Indestructible Wall." This, with other mosaics and 
 the frescoes on the staircase, dates from the eleventh 
 century. 
 
 I stood among the pillars, a little removed from the 
 principal aisle, one afternoon near sunset, listening 
 to the melodious intoning of the priest, and the soft 
 chanting of the small week-day choir at vespers, and 
 wondering, for the thousandth time, why Protestants 
 who wish to intone do not take lessons from those 
 incomparable masters in the art, the Russian dea- 
 cons, and wherein lies the secret of the Russian ec- 
 clesiastical music. That simple music, so perfectly 
 fitted for church use, will bring the most callous into 
 a devotional mood long before the end of the service. 
 Rendered as it invariably is by male voices, with 
 superb basses in place of the non-existent organ, it 
 spoils one's taste forever for the elaborate, operatic 
 church music of the West performed by choirs which 
 are usually engaged in vocal steeplechases with the 
 organ for the enhancement of the evil effects. My 
 meditations were interrupted by the approach of a 
 young man, who asked me to be his godmother ! 
 He explained that he was a Jew from Minsk, who 
 had never studied " his own religion," and was now 
 come to Kieff for the express purpose of getting him- 
 self baptized by the name of Vladimir, the tenth- 
 century prince and patron saint of the town. As he 
 had no acquaintances in the place, he was in a strait 
 for god-parents, who were indispensable. 
 
 " I cannot be your godmother," I answered. " I 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 231 
 
 am neither pravosldvnaya nor Russian. Cannot the 
 priest find sponsors for you ? " 
 
 " That is not the priest's place. His business is 
 merely to baptize. But perhaps he might be per- 
 suaded to manage that also, if I had better clothes." 
 
 He wore a light print shirt, tolerably clean, belted 
 outside his dark trousers, and his shoes and cap were 
 respectable enough. 
 
 I recalled instances which I had heard from the 
 best authority a priest of priests finding spon- 
 sors for Jews, and receiving medals or orders in re- 
 ward for their conversion. I recalled an instance 
 related to me by a Russian friend who had acted, at 
 the priest's request, as godmother to a Jewess so fat 
 that she stuck fast in the receptacle used for the 
 baptism by immersion ; and I questioned the man 
 a little. He said that he had a sister living in New 
 York, and gave me her name and address in a manner 
 which convinced me that he knew what he was say- 
 ing. He had no complaint to make of his treatment 
 by either Russians or Jews; and when I asked him 
 why he did not join his sister in America, he replied, 
 
 " Why should I ? I am well enough off here." 
 
 Perhaps I ought to state that he was a plumber 
 by trade. On the other hand, justice demands the 
 explanation that Russian plumbing in general is not 
 of a very complicated character, and in Minsk it must 
 be of a very simple kind, I think. 
 
 He intended to return to Minsk as soon as he was 
 baptized. How he expected to attend the Russian 
 Church in Minsk when he had found it inexpedient 
 to be baptized there was one of the points which he 
 omitted to explain. 
 
 I was at last obliged to bid him a decisive "good- 
 
232 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 day," and leave the church. He followed, and passed 
 me in the garden, his cap cocked jauntily over his 
 tight bronze curls, and his hips swaying from side to 
 side in harmony. Under the long arch of the belfry- 
 tower gate hung a picture, adapted to use as an 
 iktina, which set forth how a mother had accidentally 
 dropped her baby overboard from a boat on the 
 Dnye'pr, and coming, disconsolate, to pray before the 
 image of St. Nicholas, the patron of travelers, she 
 had found her child lying there safe and sound ; 
 whence this holy picture is known by the name of 
 St. Nicholas the Wet. 
 
 Before this ik6na my Jew pulled off his cap, and 
 crossed himself rapidly and repeatedly, watching me 
 out of the corner of his eye, meanwhile, to see how 
 his piety impressed me. It produced no particular 
 effect upon me, except to make me engage a smart- 
 looking cabby to take me to my hotel, close by, by a 
 roundabout route. Whether this Jew returned to 
 Minsk as Vladimir or as Isaac I do not know ; but I 
 made a point of mentioning the incident to several 
 Russian friends, including a priest, and learned, to 
 my surprise, that, though I was not a member of 
 a Russian Church, I could legally have stood god- 
 mother to a man, though I could not have done so 
 to a woman ; and that a godmother could have been 
 dispensed with. Men who are not members of the 
 Russian Church can, in like manner, stand as god- 
 fathers to women, but not to men. Moreover, every 
 one seemed to doubt the probability of a Jew quit- 
 ting his own religion in earnest, and they thought 
 that his object had been to obtain from me a suit of 
 clothes, practical gifts to the godchild being the cus- 
 tom in such cases. I had been too dull to take the 
 hint ! 
 
A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 233 
 
 A few months later, a St. Petersburg newspaper 
 related a notorious instance of a Jew who had been 
 sufficiently clever to get himself baptized a number 
 of times, securing on each occasion wealthy and gen- 
 erous sponsors. Why the man from Minsk sfiould 
 have selected me, in my plain serge traveling gown, 
 I cannot tell, unless it was because he saw that I 
 did not wear the garb of the Russian merchant class, 
 or look like them, and observation or report had 
 taught him that the aristocratic classes above the 
 merchants are most susceptible to the pleasure of 
 patronizing converts; though to do them justice, 
 Russians make no attempt at converting people to 
 their church. I have been assured by a Russian Jew 
 that his co-religionists never do, really, change their 
 faith. Indeed, it is difficult to understand how they 
 can even be supposed to do so, in the face of their 
 strong traditions, in which they are so thoroughly 
 drilled. Therefore, if Russians stand sponsors to 
 Jews, while expressing skepticism as to conversion 
 in general, they cannot complain if unscrupulous per- 
 sons take advantage of their inconsistency. I should 
 probably have refused to act as godmother, even had 
 I known that I was legally entitled to do so. 
 
 Our searches in the lower town, Podol, for rugs 
 like those in the monastery resulted in nothing but 
 amusement. Those rugs had been made in the old 
 days of serfdom, on private estates, and are not to 
 be bought. 
 
 By dint of loitering about in the churches, mon- 
 asteries, catacombs, markets, listening to that Little 
 Russian dialect which is so sweet on the lips of the 
 natives, though it looks so uncouth when one sees 
 their ballads in print, and by gazing out over the 
 
234 A RUSSIAN HOLY CITY. 
 
 ever beautiful river and steppe, I came at last to par- 
 don Kieff for its progress. 1 got my historical and 
 mythological bearings. I felt the spirit of the Epic 
 Songs stealing over me. I settled in my own mind 
 the tite of Fair-Sun Prince Vladimir's palace of 
 white stone, the scene of great feasts, where he and 
 his mighty heroes quaffed the green wine by the 
 bucketful, and made their great brags, which resulted 
 so tragically or so ludicrously. I was sure I recog- 
 nized the church where Diuk Stepanovitch " did not 
 so much pray as gaze about," and indulged in men- 
 tal comments upon clothes and manners at the Easter 
 mass, after a fashion which is not yet obsolete. I 
 imagined that I descried in the blue dusk of the dis- 
 tant steppe Ily& of Murom approaching on his good 
 steed Cloudfall, armed with a damp oak uprooted 
 from Damp Mother Earth, and dragging at his sad- 
 dle-bow fierce, hissing Nightingale the Robber, with 
 one eye still fixed on Kieff, one on Tcbernigoff, after 
 his special and puzzling habit, and whom Little Rus- 
 sian tradition declares was chopped up into poppy 
 seeds, whence spring the sweet-voiced nightingales 
 of the present day. 
 
 The " atmosphere " of the cradle of the Epic Songs 
 and of the cradle of Pravosl&vnaya Russia laid its 
 spell upon me on those heights, and even the sight 
 of the cobweb suspension bridge in all its modern- 
 ness did not disturb me, since with it is connected 
 one of the most charming modern traditions, a classic 
 in the language, which only a perfect artist could 
 have planned and executed. 
 
 The thermometer stood at 120 Fahrenheit when 
 we took our last look at Kieff, the Holy City. 
 
X. 
 
 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 WE had seen the Russian haying on the estate of 
 Count Tolst6y. We were to be initiated into the 
 remaining processes of the agricultural season in that 
 famous " black earth zone " which has been the gran- 
 ary of Europe from time immemorial, but which is 
 also, alas ! periodically the seat of dire famine. 
 
 It was July when we reached Nizhni Novgorod, 
 on our way to an estate on the Volga, in this " black 
 earth " grainfield, vast as the whole of France ; but 
 the flag of opening would not be run up for some 
 time to come. The Fair quarter of the town was 
 still in its state of ten months' hibernation, under 
 padlock and key, and the normal town, effective as 
 it was, with its white Kremlin crowning the turfed 
 and terraced heights, possessed few charms to detain 
 us. We embarked for Kazan. 
 
 If Kazan is an article in the creed of all Russians, 
 whether they have ever seen it or not, Matushka 
 V<51ga (dear Mother Volga) is a complete system of 
 faith. Certainly her services in building up and bind- 
 ing together the empire merit it, though the section 
 thus usually referred to comprises only the stretch 
 between Nizhni Novgorod and Astrakhan, despite its 
 historical and commercial importance above the former 
 town. 
 
236 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 But Kaz&n ! A stay there of a day and a half 
 served to dispel our illusions. We were deceived in 
 our expectations as to the once mighty capital of the 
 imperial Tatar khans. The recommendations of our 
 Russian friends, the glamour of history which had 
 bewitched us, the hope of the Western for some- 
 thing Oriental, all these elements had combined 
 to raise our expectations in a way against which our 
 sober senses and previous experience should have 
 warned us. It seemed to us merely a flourishing and 
 animated Russian provincial town, whose Kremlin 
 was eclipsed by that of Moscow, and whose univer- 
 sity had instructed, but not graduated, Count Tol- 
 stoy, the novelist. The bazaar under arcades, the 
 popular market in the open square, the public gar- 
 den, the shops, all were but a repetition of similar 
 features in other towns, somewhat magnified to the 
 proportions befitting the dignity of the home port of 
 the Ural Mountains and Siberia. 
 
 The Tatar quarter alone seemed to possess the 
 requisite mystery and " local color." Here whole 
 streets of tiny shops, ablaze with rainbow-hued leather 
 goods, were presided over by taciturn, olive-skinned 
 brothers of the Turks, who appeared almost hand- 
 some when seen thus in masses, with opportunities 
 for comparison. Hitherto we had thought of the 
 Tatars only as the old-clothes dealers, peddlers, horse- 
 butchers, and waiters of St. Petersburg and Moscow. 
 Here the dignity of the prosperous merchants, gravely 
 recommending their really well-dressed, well-sewed 
 leather wares, bespoke our admiration. 
 
 The Tatar women, less easily seen, glided along 
 the uneven pavements now and then, smoothly, but 
 still in a manner to permit a glimpse of short, square 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 237 
 
 feet incased in boots flowered with gay hues upon a 
 green or rose-colored ground, and reaching to the 
 knee. They might have been houris of beauty, but 
 it was difficult to classify them, veiled as they were, 
 and screened as to head and shoulders by striped 
 green kaftdns of silk, whose long sleeves depended 
 from the region of their ears, and whose collar rested 
 on the brow. What we could discern was that their 
 black eyes wandered like the eyes of unveiled women, 
 and that they were coquettishly conscious of our 
 glances, though we were of their own sex. 
 
 We found nothing especially striking among the 
 churches, unless one might reckon the Tatar mosques 
 in the list ; and, casting a last glance at Sumbeka's 
 curious and graceful tower, we hired a cabman to 
 take us to the river, seven versts away. 
 
 We turned our backs upon Kaz&n without regret, 
 in the fervid heat of that midsummer morning. We 
 did not shake its dust from our feet. When dust 
 is ankle-deep that is not very feasible. It rose in 
 clouds, as we met the long lines of Tatar carters, 
 transporting flour and other merchandise to and from 
 the wharves across the " dam " which connects the 
 town, in summer low water, with Mother Volga. 
 In spring floods Matushka V61ga threatens to wash 
 away the very walls of the Kremlin, and our present 
 path is under water. 
 
 Fate had favored us with a clever cabman. His 
 shaggy little horse was as dusty in hue as his own 
 coat, a most unusual color for coat of either Rus- 
 sian horse or izvtisteliik. The man's armydk was 
 bursting at every seam, not with plenty, but, since 
 extremes meet, with hard times, which are the chronic 
 complaint of Kazdn, so he affirmed. He was gentle 
 
238 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 and sympathetic, like most Russian cabmen, and be 
 beguiled our long drive with shrewd comments on the 
 Russian and Tatar inhabitants and their respective 
 qualities. 
 
 " The Tatars are good people," he said ; " very 
 clean, cleaner than Russians ; very quiet and peace- 
 able citizens. There was a time when they were not 
 quiet. That was ten years ago, during the war with 
 Turkey. They were disturbed. The Russians said 
 that it was a holy war ; the Tatars said so, too, and 
 wished to fight for their brethren of the Moslem 
 faith. But the governor was not a man to take 
 fright at that. He summoned the chief men among 
 them before him. ' See here,' says he. ' With me 
 you can be peaceable with better conscience. If you. 
 permit your people to be turbulent, I will pave the 
 dam with the heads of Tatars. The dam is long. 
 Allah is my witness. Enough. Go ! ' And it came 
 to nothing, of course. No; it was only a threat, 
 though they knew that he was a strong man in rule. 
 Why should he wish to do that, really, even if they 
 were not Orthodox ? A man is born with his re- 
 ligion as with his skin. The Orthodox live at peace 
 with the Tat&rs. And the Tatars are superior to the 
 Russians in this, also, that they all stick by each 
 other ; whereas a Russian, Hdspodi pomilui ! [Lord 
 have mercy] thinks of himself alone, which is a dis- 
 advantage," said my humble philosopher. 
 
 We found that we had underrated the power of 
 our man's little horse, and had arrived at the river 
 an hour and a half before the steamer was appointed 
 to sail. It should be there lading, however, and we 
 decided to go directly on board and wait in comfort. 
 We gave patient Vanka liberal " tea-money." Hard 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 239 
 
 times were evidently no fiction so far as he was 
 concerned, and we asked if he meant to spend it on 
 vtidka, which elicited fervent asseverations of tee- 
 totalism, as he thrust his buckskin pouch into his 
 breast. 
 
 Descending in the deep dust, with a sense of grat- 
 itude that it was not mixed with rain, we ran the 
 gauntlet of the assorted peddlers stationed on both 
 sides of the long descent with stocks of food, soap, 
 white felt boots, gay sashes, coarse leather slippers 
 too large for human wear, and other goods, and 
 reached the covered wharf. The steamer was not 
 there, but we took it calmly, and asked no questions 
 for a space. 
 
 We whiled away the time by chaffering with the 
 persistent Tatar venders for things which we did not 
 want, and came into amazed possession of some of 
 them. This was a tribute to our powers of bargain- 
 ing which had rarely been paid even when we had 
 been in earnest. We contrived to avoid the bars of 
 yellow " egg soap " by inquiring for one of the mar- 
 vels of Kazan, soap made from mare's milk. An 
 amused apothecary had already assured us that it was 
 a product of the too fertile brain of Baedeker, not of 
 the local soap factories. May Baedeker himself, some 
 day, reap a similar harvest of mirth and astonishment 
 from the sedate Tatars, who can put mare's milk to 
 much better use as a beverage ! 
 
 In the hope of obtaining a conversation-lesson in 
 Tatar, we bought a Russo-Tatar grammar, warranted 
 to deliver over all the secrets of that gracefully 
 curved language in the usual scant array of pages. 
 But the peddler immediately professed as profound 
 ignorance of Tatar as he had of Russian a few mo- 
 
240 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 ments before, when requested to abate his exorbitant 
 demands for the pamphlet. 
 
 By the time we had exhausted these resources one 
 o'clock had arrived. The steamer had not. The 
 office clerk replied to all inquiries with the languid 
 national " saytchds" which the dictionary defines as 
 meaning " immediately," but which experience proves 
 to signify, " Be easy ; any time this side of eternity, 
 if perfectly convenient !" Under the pressure of 
 increasingly vivacious attacks, prompted by hunger, 
 he finally condescended to explain that the big mail 
 steamer, finding too little water in the channel, had 
 " sat down on a sand-bank," and that two other 
 steamers were trying to pull her off. " She might 
 be along at three o'clock, or later, or some time." 
 It began to be apparent to us why the success of the 
 Fair depends, in great measure, on the amount of 
 water in the river. 
 
 Our first meal of bread and tea had been eaten at 
 seven o'clock, and we had counted upon breakfasting 
 on the steamer, where some of the best public cook- 
 ing in the country, especially in the matter of fish, 
 is to be found. It was now two o'clock. The town 
 was distant. The memory of the ducks, the size o 
 a plover, and other things in proportion, in which our 
 strenuous efforts had there resulted, did not tempt 
 us to return. Russians have a way of slaying chick- 
 ens and other poultry almost in the shell, to serve as 
 game. 
 
 Accordingly, we organized a search expedition 
 among the peddlers, and in the colony of rainbow- 
 hued shops planted in a long street across the heads 
 of the wharves, and filled chiefly with Tatars and 
 coarse Tatar wares. For the equivalent of seventeen 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 241 
 
 cents we secured a quart of rich cream, half a dozen 
 hard-boiled eggs, a couple of pounds of fine raspber- 
 ries, and a large fresh wheaten roll. These we ate in 
 courses, as we perched on soap-boxes and other un- 
 conventional seats, surrounded by smoked fish, casks 
 of salted cucumbers, festoons of dried mushrooms, 
 " cartwheels " of sour black bread, and other favor- 
 ite edibles, in the open-fronted booths. A delicious 
 banquet it was, one of those which recur to the 
 memory unbidden when more elaborate meals have 
 been forgotten. 
 
 Returning to the wharf with a fresh stock of pa- 
 tience, we watched the river traffic and steamers of 
 rival lines, which had avoided sand-banks, as they 
 took in their fuel supplies of refuse petroleum from 
 the scows anchored in mid-stream, and proceeded on 
 their voyage to Astrakhan. Some wheelbarrow 
 steamers, bearing familiar names, " Niagara " and- 
 the like, pirouetted about in awkward and apparently 
 aimless fashion. 
 
 Passengers who seemed to be better informed than 
 we as to the ways of steamers began to make their 
 appearance. A handsome officer deposited his red- 
 cotton-covered traveling-pillow and luggage on the 
 dock and strolled off, certain that no one would un- 
 lock his trunk or make way with his goods. The 
 trunk, not unusual in style, consisted of a red-and- 
 white tea-cloth, whose knotted corners did not wholly 
 repress the exuberance of linen and other % effects 
 through the bulging edges. 
 
 A young Tatar, endowed with india-rubber capa- 
 bilities in the way of attitudes, and with a volubility 
 surely unrivaled in all taciturn Kazan, chatted in- 
 terminably with a young Russian woman, evidently 
 
242 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 the wife of a petty shopkeeper. They bore the in- 
 tense heat with equal equanimity, but their equanim- 
 ity was clad in oddly contrasting attire. The woman 
 looked cool and indifferent buttoned up in a long 
 wadded pelisse, with a hot cotton kerchief tied close 
 over ears, under chin, and tucked in at the neck. 
 The Tatar squatted on his haunches, folded in three 
 nearly equal parts. A spirally ribbed flat fez of 
 dark blue velvet, topped with a black silk tassel, 
 adorned his cleanly shaven head. His shirt, of the 
 coarsest linen, was artistically embroidered in black, 
 yellow, and red silks and green linen thread in Tura- 
 nian designs, and ornamented with stripes and dia- 
 monds of scarlet cotton bestowed unevenly in unex- 
 pected places. It lay open on his dusky breast, and 
 fell unconfined over full trousers of home-made dark 
 blue linen striped with red, like the gussets under 
 the arms of his white shirt. The trousers were 
 tucked into high boots, slightly wrinkled at the in- 
 step, with an inset of pebbled horsehide, frosted- 
 green in hue, at the heels. This green leather was a 
 part of their religion, the Tatars told me, but what 
 part they would not reveal. As the soles were soft, 
 like socks, he wore over his boots a pair of stiff 
 leather slippers, which could be easily discarded on 
 entering the mosque, in compliance with the Moslem 
 law requiring the removal of foot-gear. 
 
 Several peasants stood about silently, patiently, 
 wrapped in their sheepskin coats. Apparently they 
 found this easier than carrying them, and they were 
 ready to encounter the chill night air in the open 
 wooden bunks of the third-class, or on the floor of 
 the fourth-class cabin. The soiled yellow leather was 
 hooked close across their breasts, as in winter. An 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 243 
 
 occasional movement displayed the woolly interior of 
 the tulup's short, full ballet skirt attached to the 
 tight-fitting body. The peasants who thus tranquilly 
 endured the heat of fur on a midsummer noon would, 
 did circumstances require it, bear the piercing cold 
 of winter with equal calmness clad in cotton shirts, 
 or freeze to death on sentry duty without a murmur. 
 They were probably on their way to find work dur- 
 ing the harvest and earn a few kopeks, and very 
 likely would return to their struggling families as 
 poor as they went. As we watched this impertur- 
 bable crowd, we became infected with their spirit of 
 unconcern, and entered into sympathy with the na- 
 tional saytchds, a case of atmospheric influence. 
 
 At last the steamer arrived, none the worse for its 
 encounter with the bar. Usually, the mail steamers 
 halt three hours half-merchandise steamers four 
 hours at Kazan and other important towns on the 
 Volga, affording hasty travelers an opportunity to 
 make a swift survey in a drosky ; but on this occa- 
 sion one hour was made to suffice, and at last we 
 were really off on our way to the estate down the 
 river where we were to pay our long-promised visit. 
 
 We were still at a reach of the river where the 
 big steamer might sit down on another reef, and the 
 men were kept on guard at the bow, with hardly an 
 intermission, guaging the depth of the water with 
 their striped poles, to guide the helmsman by their 
 monotonous calls : " V6sim ! " " Sehest-$-polovin6-d-<5- 
 iu!" "/Sim/" (Eight! Six and a half! Seven!) 
 They had a little peculiarity of pronunciation which 
 was very pleasing. And we soon discovered that into 
 shallower water than five and a half quarters we 
 might not venture. 
 
244 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 The river was extremely animated above the mouth 
 of the Kama, the great waterway from the mines and 
 forests of the Ural and Siberia. Now and then, the 
 men on a float heavily laden with iron bars, which 
 was being towed to the Fair at Nizhni Novgorod, 
 would shout a request that we would slacken speed, 
 lest they be swamped with our swell. Huge rafts of 
 fine timber were abundant, many with small chapel- 
 like structures on them, which were not chapels, 
 however. Cattle steamers passed, the unconfined 
 beasts staring placidly over the low guards of the 
 three decks, and uttering no sound. We had already 
 learned that the animals are as quiet as the people, in 
 Russia, the Great Silent Land. Very brief were our 
 halts at the small landings. The villagers, who had 
 come down with baskets of fresh rolls and berries 
 and bottles of cream, to supply hungry passengers 
 whose means or inclination prevented their eating 
 the steamer food, had but scant opportunity to dispose 
 of their perishable wares. 
 
 As the evening breeze freshened, the perfume of 
 the hayfields was wafted from the distant shores in 
 almost overpowering force. The high right bank, 
 called the Hills, and the low left shore, known as the 
 Forests, sank into half-transparent vagueness, which 
 veiled the gray log-built villages with their tiny win- 
 dows, and threw into relief against the evening sky 
 only the green roofs and blue domes of the churches, 
 surmounted by golden crosses, which gleamed last of 
 all in the vanishing rays of sunset. A boatload of 
 peasants rowing close in shore ; a red-shirted solitary 
 figure straying along the water's edge ; tiny sea-gulls 
 darting and dipping in the waves around the steamer ; 
 a vista up some wide-mouthed affluent ; and a great 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 245 
 
 peaceful stillness brooding over all, such were the 
 happenings, too small for incidents, which accorded 
 perfectly with the character of the Volga. For the 
 Volga cannot be compared with the Rhine or the 
 Hudson in castles or scenery. It has, instead, a 
 grand, placid charm of its own, imperial, indefinable, 
 and sweet. One yields to it, and subscribes to the 
 Russian faith in the grand river. 
 
 No one seemed to know how much of the lost time 
 would be made' up. Were it spring, when Mother 
 Volga runs from fifty to a hundred and fifty miles 
 wide, taking the adjoining country into her broad 
 embrace, and steamers steer a bee-line course to their 
 landings, the officers might have been able to say at 
 what hour we should reach our destination. As it 
 was, they merely reiterated the characteristic "Ne 
 zndem" (We don't know), which possesses plural 
 powers of irritation when uttered in the conventional 
 half-drawl. Perhaps they really did not know. Ow- 
 ing to a recent decree in the imperial navy, officers 
 who have served a certain number of years without 
 having accomplished a stipulated amount of sea ser- 
 vice are retired. Since the Russian war vessels are 
 not many, while the Naval Academy continues to 
 turn out a large batch of young officers every year, 
 the opportunities for effecting the requisite sea ser- 
 vice are limited. -The officers who are retired, in 
 consequence, seek positions on the Volga steamers, 
 which are sometimes commanded by a rear-admiral, 
 in the imperial uniform, which he is allowed to re- 
 tain, in addition to receiving a grade. But if one 
 chances upon them during their first season on the 
 river, their information is not equal to their fine ap- 
 pearance, since Mother Volga must be studied in her 
 
246 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 caprices, and navigation is open only, on the average, 
 between the 12th of April and the 24th of Novem- 
 ber. Useless to interrogate the old river dogs among 
 the subordinates. The " We don't know " is even 
 more inveterate with them, and it is reinforced with 
 the just comment, " We are not the masters." 
 
 Knowing nothing, in the general uncertainty, ex- 
 cept that we must land some time during the night, 
 we were afraid to make ourselves comfortable even to 
 the extent of unpacking sheets to cool off the velvet 
 divans, which filled two sides of our luxurious cabin. 
 When we unbolted the movable panels from the 
 slatted door and front wall, to establish a draft of 
 fresh air from the window, a counter-draft was set up 
 of electric lights, supper clatter, cigarette smoke, and 
 chatter, renewed at every landing with the fresh ar- 
 rivals. We resolved to avoid these elegant mail steam- 
 ers in the future, and patronize the half-merchandise 
 boats of the same line, which are not much slower, 
 and possess the advantage of staterooms opening on 
 a corridor, not on the saloon, and are fitted with sky- 
 lights, so that one can have fresh air and quiet sleep. 
 
 At four o'clock in the morning we landed. The 
 local policeman, whose duty it is to meet steamers, 
 gazed at us with interest. The secret of his medita- 
 tions we learned later. He thought of offering us 
 his services. " They looked like strangers, but talked 
 Russian," he said. The combination was too much 
 for him, and, seeing that we were progressing well in 
 our bargain for a conveyance, he withdrew, and 
 probably solved the riddle with the aid of the post- 
 boy. 
 
 The estate for which we were bound lay thirty-five 
 versts distant ; but fearing that we might reach it too 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 247 
 
 early if we were to start at once, I ordered an equi- 
 page for six o'clock. I was under the impression that 
 the man from the posting- house had settled it for us 
 that we required a pair of horses, attached to what- 
 ever he thought fit, and that I had accepted his dic- 
 tation. The next thing to do, evidently, was to 
 adopt the Russian stop-gap of tea. 
 
 The wharfinger, who occupied a tiny tenement on 
 one end of the dock, supplied us with a bubbling 
 samovar, sugar, and china, since we were not travel- 
 ing in strictly Russian style, with a fragile-nosed tea- 
 pot and glasses. We got out our tea, steeped and 
 sipped it, nibbling at a bit of bread, in that indifferent 
 manner which" one unconsciously acquires in Russia. 
 It is only by such experience that one comes to un- 
 derstand the full or rather scanty significance 
 of that puzzling and oft-recurring phrase in Russian 
 novels, " drinking tea." 
 
 As we were thus occupied in one of the cells, fur- 
 nished with a table and two hard stuffed benches, to 
 accommodate waiting passengers, our postboy thrust 
 his head in at the door and began the subject of the 
 carriage all over again. I repeated my orders. He 
 said, u Khdrashti" (Good), and disappeared. We 
 dallied over our tea. We watched the wharfinger's 
 boys trying to drown themselves in a cranky boat, 
 like the young male animals of all lands; we listened 
 to their shrill little songs; we counted the ducks, 
 gazed at the peasants assembled on the brow of the 
 steep hill above us, on which the town was situated, 
 and speculated about the immediate future, until the 
 time fixed and three quarters of an hour more had 
 elapsed. The wharfinger's reply to my impatient 
 questions was an unvarying apathetic "We don't 
 
248 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 know," and, spurred to action by tins, I set out to 
 find the posting-house. 
 
 It was not far away, but my repeated and vigorous 
 knocks upon the door of the izba (cottage), orna- 
 mented with the imperial eagle and the striped pole, 
 received no response. I pushed open the big gate of 
 the courtyard alongside, and entered. Half the court 
 was roofed over with thatch. In the far corner, di- 
 vorced wagon bodies, running-gear, and harnesses lay 
 heaped on the earth. A horse, which was hitched to 
 something unsubstantial among those fragments, came 
 forward to welcome me. A short row of wagon mem- 
 bers which had escaped divorce, and were united in 
 wheeling order, stood along the high board fence. In 
 one of them, a rough wooden cart, shaped somewhat 
 like a barrel sawed in two lengthwise, pillowed on 
 straw, but with his legs hanging down in an uncom- 
 fortable attitude, lay my faithless postboy (he was 
 about forty years of nge) fast asleep. The neighbor- 
 ing vehicle, which I divined to be the one intended 
 for us, was in possession of chickens. A new-laid 
 egg bore witness to their wakefulness and industry. 
 
 While I was engaged in an endeavor to rouse my 
 should-be coachman, by tugging at his sleeve and 
 pushing his boots in the most painful manner I could 
 devise, a good-looking peasant woman made her 
 tardy appearance at the side door of the adjoining 
 izba, and seemed to enjoy the situation in an impartial, 
 impersonal way. The horse thrust his muzzle gently 
 into his master's face and roused him for me, and, in 
 return, was driven away. 
 
 I demanded an explanation. Extracted by bits in 
 conversational spirals, it proved to be that he had 
 decided that the carriage needed three horses, which 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 249 
 
 lie had known all along ; and, chiefly, that he had 
 desired to sleep upon a little scheme for exploiting 
 the strangers. How long he had intended to pursue 
 his slumberous meditations k is impossible to say. 
 
 He dragged me through all the mazes of that bar- 
 gain once more. Evidently, bargaining was of even 
 stricter etiquette than my extensive previous acquaint- 
 ance had led me to suspect; and I had committed 
 the capital mistake of not complying with this ances- 
 tral custom in the beginning. I agreed to three 
 horses, and stipulated, on my side, that fresh straw 
 should replace the chickens' nest, and that we should 
 set out at once, not saytchds, but sooner, " this very 
 minute." 
 
 I turned to go. A fresh difficulty arose. He would 
 not go unless I would pay for three relays. He 
 brought out the government regulations and amend- 
 ments, all that had been issued during the century, 
 I should think. He stood over me while I read them, 
 and convinced myself that his " Yay B6gu " (God is 
 my witness) was accurately placed. The price of re- 
 lays was, in reality, fixed by law ; but though over- 
 affirmation had now aroused my suspicions, in my 
 ignorance of the situation I could not espy the loop- 
 hole of trickery in which I was to be noosed, and I 
 agreed once more. More quibbling. He would not 
 stir unless he were allowed to drive the same horses 
 the whole distance, though paid for three relays, 
 because all the horses would be away harvesting, 
 and so forth and so on. Goaded to assert myself in 
 some manner, to put an end to these interminable 
 hagglings, I asserted what I did not know. 
 
 " Prince X. never pays for these relays," I declared 
 boldly. 
 
250 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 " Oh, no, he does n't," replied the man, with cheer- 
 ful frankness. " But you must, or I '11 not go." 
 
 That settled it ; I capitulated once more. 
 
 We had omitted to telegraph to our friends, partly 
 in order to save them the trouble of sending a car- 
 riage, partly because we were thirsting for "experi- 
 ences." It began to look as though our thirst was 
 to be quenched in some degree, since we were in this 
 man's power as to a vehicle, and it might be true that 
 we should not be able to obtain any other in the 
 town, or any horses in the villages, if indeed there 
 were any villages. Fortified by another volley of 
 " Yay B6gu" of triumphant fervor, we survived a 
 second wait. At last, near nine o'clock, we were 
 able to pack ourselves and our luggage. 
 
 The body of our tarantds, made, for the sake of 
 lightness, of woven elm withes, and varnished dark 
 brown, was shaped not unlike a baby carriage. Such 
 a wagon body costs about eight dollars in Kazan, 
 where great numbers of them are made. It was 
 set upon stout, unpainted running-gear, guiltless of 
 springs, in cat's-cradle fashion. The step was a slen- 
 der iron stirrup, which revolved in its ring with tan- 
 talizing ease. It was called a plettischka, and the 
 process of entering it resembled vaulting on horse- 
 back. 
 
 Our larger luggage was tied on behind with ropes, 
 in precarious fashion. The rest we took inside and 
 deposited at our feet. As there was no seat, we flat- 
 tened ourselves out on the clean hay, and practiced 
 Delsartean attitudes of languor. Our three horses 
 were harnessed abreast. The reins were made in 
 part of rope ; so were the traces. Our yamtschik 
 hud donned his regulation coat over his red shirt, and 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 251 
 
 sat unblenchingly through the heat. All prelimina- 
 ries seemed to be settled at last. I breathed a sigh 
 of relief, as we halted at the posting-house to pay 
 our dues in advance, and I received several pounds of 
 copper coin in change, presumably that I might pay 
 the non-existent relays. 
 
 The trtf'ika set off with spirit, and we flattered our- 
 selves that we should not be long on the road. This 
 being a county town, there were some stone official 
 buildings in addition to the cathedral, of which we 
 caught a glimpse in the distance. But our road lay 
 through a suburb of log cabins, through a large gate 
 in the wattled town fence, and out upon the plain. 
 
 For nearly five hours we drove through birch for- 
 ests, over rolling downs, through a boundless ocean 
 of golden rye, diversified by small patches of buck- 
 wheat, oats, millet, and wheat. But wheat thrives 
 better in the adjoining government, and many peas- 
 ants, we are told, run away from pressing work and 
 good wages at hand to harvest where they will get 
 white bread to eat, and return penniless. 
 
 Here and there, the small, weather-beaten image 
 of some saint, its face often indistinguishable through 
 stress of storms, and shielded by a rough triangular 
 penthouse, was elevated upon a pole, indicating the 
 spot where prayers are said for the success of the 
 harvest. Corn-flowers, larkspur, convolvulus, and 
 many other flowers grew profusely enough among 
 the grain to come under the head of weeds. 
 
 The transparent air allowed us vast vistas of dis- 
 tant blue hills and nearer green valleys, in which 
 nestled villages under caps of thatch, encircled by 
 red-brown fences cleverly wattled of long boughs. In 
 one hollow we passed through a village of the Tchu- 
 
252 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 vashi, a Turkish or Finnish tribe, which was stranded 
 all along the middle Volga in unrecorded antiquity, 
 during some of the race migrations from the teem- 
 ing plateaux of Asia. The village seemed deserted. 
 Only a few small children and grannies had been left 
 at home by the harvesters, and they gazed curiously 
 at us, aroused to interest by the jingling harness with 
 its metal disks, and the bells clanging merrily from 
 the apex of the wooden arch which rose above the 
 neck of our middle horse. 
 
 The grain closed in upon us. We plucked some 
 ears as we passed, and found them ripe and well 
 filled. The plain seemed as trackless as a forest, and 
 our postboy suspected, from time to time, that he had 
 lost his way among the narrow roads. A few peas- 
 ant men whom we encountered at close quarters 
 took off their hats, but without servility, and we 
 greeted them with the customary good wishes for a 
 plentiful harvest, " Bog v p6mozh" (God help), or 
 with a bow. The peasant women whom we met 
 rarely took other notice of us than to stare, and still 
 more rarely did they salute first. They gazed with 
 instinctive distrust, as women of higher rank are wont 
 to do at a stranger of their own sex. 
 
 Although the grain was planted in what seemed 
 to be a single vast field, belonging to one estate, it 
 was in reality the property of many different peas- 
 ants, as well as of some proprietors. Each peasant 
 had marked his plot with a cipher furrow when he 
 plowed, and the outlines had been preserved by the 
 growing grain. The rich black soil of the fallow 
 land, and strips of turi separating sections, relieved 
 the monotony of this waving sea of gold. 
 
 The heat was intense. In our prone position, we 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 253 
 
 found it extremely fatiguing to hold umbrellas. We 
 had recourse, therefore, to the device practiced by 
 the mountaineers of the Caucasus, who, in common 
 with the Spaniards, believe that what will keep out 
 cold will also keep out heat. We donned our heavy 
 wadded pelisses. The experiment was a success. We 
 arrived cool and tranquil, in the fierce heat, at the 
 estate of our friends, and were greeted with fiery re- 
 proaches for not having allowed them to send one of 
 their fifteen or twenty carriages for us. But we did 
 not repent, since our conduct had secured for us that 
 novel ride and a touch of our coveted " experience," 
 in spite of the strain of our thirty hours' vigil and 
 the jolts of the springless vehicle. 
 
 Then we discovered the exact extent of our yam- 
 tscliik's trick. He had let us off on fairly easy terms, 
 getting not quite half more than his due. By the 
 regular route, we might really have had three relays 
 and made better time, had we been permitted. By 
 the short cut which our wily friend had selected, but 
 one change was possible. This left the price of two 
 changes to be credited to his financial ability (in ad- 
 dition to the tea-money of gratitude, which came in 
 at the end, all the same), and the price of the one 
 which he would not make. And, as I was so thought- 
 less as not to hire him to carry away those pounds 
 of " relay " copper, I continued to be burdened with 
 it until I contrived to expend it on peasant manu- 
 factures. The postboy bore the reputation of being 
 a very honest fellow, I learned, something after 
 the pattern of the charming cabby who drove us to 
 Count Tolst6y's estate. 
 
 The village, like most Russian villages, was sit- 
 uated on a small river, in a valley. It consisted of 
 
254 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 two streets : one running parallel with the river, the 
 other at right angles to it, on the opposite bank. 
 The connecting bridge bad several large holes in it, 
 on the day of our arrival, which were mended, a few 
 days later, with layers of straw and manure mixed 
 with earth. We continued, during the whole period 
 of our stay, to cross the bridge, instead of going 
 round it, as we had been advised to do with Russian 
 bridges, by Russians, in the certainty that, if we 
 came near drowning through- its fault, it would surely 
 furnish us with an abundance of straws to catch at. 
 
 In one corner of the settlement, a petty bourgeois, 
 there is no other word to define him, the son 
 of a former serf, and himself born a serf, had made 
 a mill-pond and erected cloth-mills. His u European " 
 clothes (long trousers, sack coat, Derby hat) suited 
 him as ill as his wife's gaudy silk gown, and Sunday 
 bonnet in place of the kerchief usual with the lower 
 classes, suited her face and bearing. He was a quiet, 
 unassuming man, but he was making over for him- 
 self a handsome house, formerly the residence of a 
 noble. Probably the money wherewith he had set 
 up in business had been wrung out of his fellow- 
 peasants in the profession of a kulak, or " fist," as 
 the people expressively term peasant usurers. 
 
 On the other side of the river stood the church, 
 white-walled, green-roofed, with golden cross, like the 
 average country church, with some weather stains, 
 and here and there a paling missing from the fence. 
 Near at hand was the new schoolhouse, with accom- 
 modations for the master, recently erected by our 
 host. Beyond this began the inclosure surrounding 
 the manor house, and including the cottages of the 
 coachmen and the steward with their hemp and gar- 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 255 
 
 den plots, the stables and carriage houses, the rick- 
 yard with its steam threshing machine and driers, 
 and a vast abandoned garden, as well as the gardens 
 in use. The large brick mansion, with projecting 
 wings, had its drawing-rooms at the back, where a 
 spacious veranda opened upon a flower-bordered lawn, 
 terminating in shady acacia walks, and a grove which 
 screened from sight the peasant cottages on the oppo- 
 site bank of the river. A hedge concealed the vege- 
 table garden, where the village urchins were in the 
 habit of pilfering their beloved cucumbers with per- 
 fect impunity, since a wholesome spanking, even 
 though administered by the Elder of the Commune, 
 might result in the spanker's exile to Siberia. An- 
 other instance of the manner in which the peasants 
 are protected by the law, in their wrongs as well as 
 their rights, may be illustrated by the case of a load 
 of hay belonging to the owner of the estate, which, 
 entering the village in goodly proportions, is reduced 
 to a few petty armfuls by the time it reaches the 
 barn, because of the handfuls snatched in passing by 
 every man, woman, and child in the place. 
 
 No sound of the village reached us in our retreat 
 except the choral songs of the maidens on holiday 
 evenings. We tempted them to the lawn one night, 
 and overcame their bash fulness by money for nuts 
 and apples. The airs which they sang were charm- 
 ing, but their voices were undeniably shrill and nasal, 
 and not always in harmony. We found them as re- 
 luctant to dance as had been the peasants at Count 
 Tolstoy's village. Here we established ourselves for 
 the harvest-tide. 
 
256 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 II. 
 
 Our life at Prince X.'s estate on the Volga flowed 
 on in a semi-monotonous, wholly delightful state of 
 lotus-eating idleness, though it assuredly was not a 
 case which came under the witty description once 
 launched by Turgeneff broadside at his countrymen : 
 " The Russian country proprietor comes to revel and 
 simmer in his ennui like a mushroom frying in sour 
 cream." Ennui shunned that happy valley. We 
 passed the hot mornings at work on the veranda or 
 in the well-filled library, varying them by drives to 
 neighboring estates and villages, or by trips to the 
 fields to watch the progress of the harvest, now in 
 full swing. Such a visit we paid when all the able- 
 bodied men and women in the village were ranged 
 across the landscape in interminable lines, armed 
 with their reaping-hooks, and forming a brilliant 
 picture in contrast with the yellow grain, in their 
 blue and scarlet raiment. They were fulfilling the 
 contract which bound them to three days' labor for 
 their landlord, in return for the pasturage furnished 
 by him for their cattle. A gay kerchief and a single 
 clinging garment, generally made of red and blue in 
 equal portions, constituted the costume of the women. 
 The scanty garments were faded and worn, for har- 
 vesting is terribly hard work, and they cannot use 
 their good clothes, as at the haying, which is mere 
 sport in comparison. Most of the men had their 
 heads protected only by their long- hair, whose sun- 
 burnt outer layer fell over their faces, as they stooped 
 and reaped the grain artistically close to the ground. 
 Their shirts were of faded red cotton ; their full 
 trousers, of blue-an,d-red-striped home-made linen, 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 257 
 
 were confined by a strip of coarse crash swathed 
 around the feet and legs to the knee, and cross-gar- 
 tered with ropes. The feet of men and women alike 
 were shod with low shoes of plaited linden bark over 
 these cloths. 
 
 They smiled indulgently at our attempts to reap 
 and make girdles for the sheaves, the sickles 
 seemed to grow dull and back-handed at our touch, 
 chatting with the dignified ease which character- 
 izes the Russian peasant. The small children had 
 been left behind in the village, in charge of the 
 grandams and the women unfit for field labor. Baby 
 had been brought to the scene of action, and installed 
 in luxury. The cradle, a cloth distended by poles, 
 like that of Peter the Great, which is preserved in 
 the museum of the Kremlin at Moscow, was sus- 
 pended from the upturned shafts of a telyega by a 
 stiff spiral spring of iron, similar to the springs used 
 on bird-cages. The curtain was made of the mother's 
 spare gown, her sarafdn. Baby's milk-bottle con- 
 sisted of a cow's horn, over the tip of which a cow's 
 teat was fastened. I had already seen these dried 
 teats for sale in pairs, in the popular markets, but 
 had declined to place implicit faith in the venders' 
 solemn statements as to their use. 
 
 It was the season which the peasants call by the 
 expressive title stradd (suffering). Nearly all the 
 summer work must be done together, and, with their 
 primitive appliances, suffering is the inevitable re- 
 sult. They set out for the fields before sunrise, and 
 return at indefinite hours, but never early. Some- 
 times they pass the night in the fields, under the 
 shelter of a cart or of the grain sheaves. Men and 
 women work equally and unweariedly ; and the 
 
258 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 women receive less pay than the men for the same 
 work, in the bad old fashion which is, unhappily, not 
 yet unknown in other lands and ranks of life. Eat- 
 ing and sleeping join the number of the lost arts. 
 The poor, brave people have but little to eat in any 
 case, not enough to induce thought or anxiety to 
 return home. Last year's store has, in all probabil- 
 ity, been nearly exhausted. They must wait until 
 the grain which they are reaping has been threshed 
 and ground before they can have their fill. 
 
 One holiday they observe, partly perforce, partly 
 from choice, though it is not one of the great festi- 
 vals of the church calendar, St. Ily&'s Day. St. 
 Ilya is the Christian representative of the old Slavic 
 god of Thunder, Perun, as well as of the prophet 
 Elijah. On or near his name day, July 20 (Old 
 Style), he never fails to dash wildly athwart the sky 
 in his chariot of fire ; in other words, there is a 
 terrific thunderstorm. Such is the belief ; such, in 
 my experience, is the fact, also. 
 
 Sundays were kept so far as the field work per- 
 mitted, and the church was thronged. Even our 
 choir of ill-trained village youths and boys could not 
 spoil the ever-exquisite music. There were usually 
 two or three women who expected to become mothers 
 before the week was out, and who came forward to 
 take the communion for the last time, after the new- 
 born babes and tiny children had been taken up by 
 their mothers to receive it. 
 
 Every one was quiet, clean, reverent. The cloth- 
 mill girls had discovered our (happily) obsolete 
 magenta, and made themselves hideous in flounced 
 petticoats and sacks of that dreadful hue. The sister 
 of our LukeVya, the maid who had been assigned to 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 259 
 
 us, thus attired, felt distinctly superior. Lukdrya 
 would have had the bad taste to follow her example, 
 had she been permitted, so fast are evil fashions de- 
 stroying the beautiful and practical national cos- 
 tumes. Little did Luke'rya dream that she, in her 
 peasant garb, with her thick nose and rather un- 
 formed face, was a hundred times prettier than An- 
 nushka, with far finer features and '" fashionable " 
 dress. 
 
 Independent and " fashionable " as many of these 
 villagers were, they were ready enough to appeal to 
 their former owners in case of illness or need ; and 
 they were always welcomed. Like most Russian 
 women who spend any time on their estates, our 
 hostess knew a good deal about medicine, which was 
 necessitated by the circumstance that the district 
 doctor lived eight miles away, and had such a wide 
 circuit assigned to him that he could not be called 
 in except for serious cases. Many of the remedies 
 available or approved by the peasants were primi- 
 tive, not to say heroic. For example, one man, who 
 had exhausted all other remedies for rheumatism, 
 was advised to go to the forest, thrust the ailing foot 
 and leg into one of the huge ant-hills which abounded 
 there, and allow the ants to sting him as long as he 
 could bear the pain, for the sake of the formic acid 
 which would thus be injected into the suffering limb. 
 I confess that I should have liked to be present at 
 this bit of surgery, shall I call it ? It would have 
 been an opportunity for observing the Russian peas- 
 ant's stoicism and love of suffering as a thing good in 
 itself. 
 
 The peasants came on other errands, also. One 
 morning we were startled, at our morning coffee, 
 
260 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 by the violent irruption into the dining-room, on his 
 knees, of a man with clasped hands uplifted, rolling 
 eyes, and hair wildly tossing, as he knocked his head 
 on the floor, kissed our hostess's gown, and uttered 
 heart-rending appeals to her, to Heaven, and to all 
 the saints. " Barynya ! dear mistress ! " he wailed. 
 " Forgive ! Yay B6gu, it was not my fault. The 
 Virgin herself knows that the carpenter forced me to 
 it. I '11 never do it again, never. God is my witness ! 
 Barynya ! Ba-a-rynya ! Ba-a-a-a-a-a-rijjnya ! " in an 
 indescribable, subdued howl. He was one of her 
 former serfs, the keeper of the dramshop; and the 
 carpenter, that indispensable functionary on an iso- 
 lated estate, had " drunk up " all his tools (which 
 did not belong to him, but to our hostess) at this 
 man's establishment. The sly publican did not offer 
 to return them, and he would not have so much as 
 condescended to promises for the misty future, had 
 he not been aware that the law permits the closing 
 of pothouses on the complaint of proprietors in just 
 such predicaments as this, as well as on the vote of 
 the peasant Commune. Having won temporary 
 respite by his well-acted anguish, he was ready to 
 proceed again on the national plan of av6s> which 
 may be vulgarly rendered into English by "running 
 for luck." 
 
 But even more attractive than these house diver- 
 sions and the village were the other external features 
 of that sweet country life. The mushroom season 
 was beginning. Equipped with baskets of ambitious 
 size, we roamed the forests, which are carpeted in 
 spring with lilies of the valley, and all summer long, 
 even under the densest shadow, with rich grass. We 
 learned the home and habits of the shrimp-pink 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 261 
 
 mushroom, which is generally eaten salted ; of the 
 fat white and birch mushrooms, with their chocolate 
 caps, to be eaten fresh ; of the brown and green 
 butter mushroom, most delicious of all to our taste, 
 and beloved of the black beetle, whom we surprised 
 lit his feast. However, the mushrooms were only an 
 excuse for dreaming away the afternoons amid the 
 sweet glints of the fragrant snowy birch-trees and 
 the green-gold flickerings of the pines, in the " black 
 forest," which is a forest composed of evergreens and 
 deciduous trees. Now and then, in our rambles, we 
 met and skirted great pits dug in the grassy roads to 
 prevent the peasants from conveniently perpetrat- 
 ing thefts of wood. Once we came upon a party of 
 timber-thieves (it was Sunday afternoon), who espied 
 us in time to rattle off in their rude telyega with 
 their prize, a great tree, at a rate which would have 
 reduced ordinary flesh and bones to a jelly ; leaving 
 us to stare helplessly at the freshly hewn stump. 
 Tawny hares tripped across our path, or gazed at us 
 from the green twilight of the bushes, as we lay on 
 the turf and discussed all things in the modern 
 heaven and earth, from theosophy and Keely's motor 
 to the other extreme. 
 
 When the peasants had not forestalled us, we re- 
 turned home with masses of mushrooms, flower-like 
 in hue, bronze, pink, snow-white, green, and yel- 
 low ; and Osip cooked them delicately, in sour cream, 
 to accompany the juicy young blackcock and other 
 game of our host's shooting. Osip was a cordon bleu, 
 and taxed his ingenuity to initiate us into all the 
 mysteries of Russian cooking, which, under his tui- 
 tion, we found delicious. The only national dish 
 which we never really learned to like was one in 
 
262 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 which he had no hand, fresh cucumbers sliced 
 lengthwise and spread thick with new honey, which 
 is supposed to be eaten after the honey has been 
 blessed, with the fruits, on the feast of the Trans- 
 figuration, but which in practice is devoured when- 
 ever found, as the village priest was probably aware. 
 The priest was himself an enthusiastic keeper of bees 
 in odd, primitive hives. It was really amazing to 
 note the difference between the good, simple-man- 
 nered old man in his humble home, where he received 
 us in socks and a faded cassock, and nearly suffo- 
 cated us with vivaciously repetitious hospitality, tea, 
 and preserves, and the priest, with his truly majestic 
 and inspired mien, as he served the altar. 
 
 Among the wild creatures in our host's great 
 forests were hares, wolves, moose, and bears. The 
 moose had retreated, for the hot weather, to the 
 lakes on the Crown lands adjacent, to escape the mad- 
 dening attacks of the gadflies. Though it was not 
 the hungry height of the season with the wolves, 
 there was always an exciting possibility of encounter- 
 ing a stray specimen during our strolls, and we found 
 the skull and bones of a horse which they had killed 
 the past winter. From early autumn these gray terrors 
 roam the scene of our mushroom-parties, in packs, 
 and kill cattle in ill-protected farmyards and children 
 in the villages. 
 
 It was too early for hare-coursing or wolf-hunting, 
 but feathered game was plentiful. Great was the 
 rivalry in " bags " between our host and the butler, 
 a jealously keen sportsman. His dog, Modistka (the 
 little milliner), had taught the clever pointer Milt<5n 
 terribly bad tricks of hunting alone, and was even in- 
 itiating her puppies into the same evil ways. When 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 263 
 
 u Monsieur, Madame, and Bobe* " returned triumph- 
 antly from the forest with their booty, and presented 
 it to their indignant masters, there were tine scenes ! 
 Bebe* and his brothers of the litter were so exactly 
 alike in every detail that they could not be distin- 
 guished one from the other. Hence they had been 
 dubbed tchintivniki (the officials), a bit of innocent 
 malice which every Russian can appreciate. 
 
 Of the existence of bears we had one convincing 
 glimpse. We drove off, one morning, in a drizzling 
 rain, to picnic on a distant estate of our host, in a 
 u red " or " beautiful " forest (the two adjectives are 
 synonymous in Russian), which is composed entirely 
 of pines. During our long tramp through a superb 
 growth of pines, every one of which would have fur- 
 nished a mainmast for the largest old-fashioned ship, 
 a bear stepped out as we passed through a narrow 
 defile, and showed an inclination to join our party. 
 The armed Russian and Mordvinian foresters, our 
 guides and protectors, were in the vanguard ; and as 
 Misha seemed peaceably disposed we relinquished 
 all designs on his pelt, consoling ourselves with the 
 reflection that it would not be good at this season of 
 the year. We camped out on the crest of the hill, 
 upon a huge rug, soft and thick, the work of serfs in 
 former days, representing an art now well-nigh lost, 
 and feasted on nut-sweet crayfish from the Volga, 
 new potatoes cooked in our gypsy kettle, curds, sour 
 black bread, and other more conventional delicacies. 
 The rain pattered softly on us, we disdained um- 
 brellas, and on the pine needles, rising in hillocks, 
 here and there, over snowy great mushrooms, of a 
 sort to be salted and eaten during fasts. The wife of 
 the priest, who is condemned to so much fasting, had 
 
264 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 a wonderfully keen instinct for these particular mush- 
 rooms, and had explained to us all their merits, which 
 seemed obscure to our non-fasting souls. Our Russian 
 forester regaled us with forest lore, as we lay on our 
 backs to look at the tops of the trees. But, to my 
 amazement, he had never heard of the Leshi and the 
 Vodyan6i, the wood-king and water-king of the folk- 
 tales. At all events, he had never seen them, nor 
 heard their weird frolics in the boughs and waves. 
 The Mordvinian contributed to the entertainment 
 by telling us of his people's costumes and habits, 
 and gave us a lesson in his language, which was of 
 the Tatar-Finnish variety. Like the Tchuv&shi and 
 other tribes here on the Volga, the Mordvinians fur- 
 nish pleasurable excitement and bewilderment to 
 ethnographists and students of religions. 
 
 These simple amusements came to an end all too 
 soon, despite the rain. We were seized with a fancy 
 to try the peasant telySga for the descent, and packed 
 ourselves in with the rug and utensils. Our Mord- 
 vinian, swarthy and gray-eyed, walked beside us, cast- 
 ing glances of inquiry at us, as the shaggy little horse 
 plunged along:, to ascertain our degrees of satisfaction 
 with the experiment. He thrust the dripping boughs 
 from our faces with graceful, natural courtesy; and 
 when we alighted, breathless and shaken to a pulp, 
 at the forester's hut, where our carriages awaited us, 
 he picked up the hairpins and gave them to us 
 gravely, one by one, as needed. We were so entirely 
 content with our telySga experience that we were in 
 no undue haste to repeat it. We drove home In the 
 persistent rain, which had affected neither our bodies 
 nor our spirits, bearing a trophy of unf ringed gen- 
 tians to add to our collection of goldenrod, harebells, 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 265 
 
 rose-colored fringed pinks, and other familiar wild 
 flowers which reminded us of the western hemi- 
 sphere. 
 
 The days were too brief for our delights. In the 
 afternoons and evenings, we took breezy gallops 
 through the forests, along the boundary sward of the 
 fields, across the rich black soil of that third of the 
 land which, in the " three-field " system of cultiva- 
 tion, is allowed to lie fallow after it has borne a crop 
 of winter grain, rye, and one of summer grain, oats. 
 We watched the peasants plowing or scattering the 
 seed-corn, or returning, mounted side-saddle fashion 
 on their horses, with their primitive plows reversed. 
 Only such rich land could tolerate these Adam-like 
 earth-scratchers. As we met the cows on their way 
 home from pasture, we took observations, to verify 
 the whimsical barometer of the peasants ; and we 
 found that if a light-hued cow headed the procession 
 the next day really was pretty sure to be fair, while 
 a dark cow brought foul weather. As the twilight 
 deepened, the quail piped under the very hoofs of 
 our horses; the moon rose over the forest, which 
 would soon ring with the howl of wolves ; the fresh 
 breath of the river came to us laden with peculiar 
 scents, through which penetrated the heavy odor of 
 the green-black hemp. 
 
 One day the horses were ordered, as usual. They 
 did not appear. The cavalryman who had been 
 hired expressly to train them had not only neglected 
 his duty, but had run away, without warning, to 
 reap his own little field, in parts unknown. He had 
 carefully observed silence as to its existence, when 
 he was engaged. This was item number one. Item 
 number two was that there was something the mat- 
 
266 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 ter with all the horses, except Little Boy, Little Bird, 
 and the small white Bashkir horse from the steppes, 
 whose ear had been slit to subdue his wildness. The 
 truth was, the steward's young son had been practic- 
 ing high jumping, bareback, in a circus costume of 
 pink calico shirt -and trousers, topped by his tow- 
 colored hair. We had seen this surreptitious per- 
 formance, but considered it best to betray nothing, 
 as the lad had done so well in the village school that 
 our hosts were about to send him to town to continue 
 his studies at their expense. 
 
 The overseer, another soldier, was ordered to don 
 his uniform and accompany us. He rebelled. " He 
 had just got his hair grown to the square state which 
 suited his peasant garb, and it would not go with his 
 dragoon's uniform in the least. Why, he would look 
 like a Kazak ! Impossible, utterly ! " He was sternly 
 commanded not to consider his hair ; this was not the 
 city, with spectators. When he finally appeared, in 
 full array, we saw that he had applied the shears to 
 his locks, in a hasty effort to compromise between war 
 and peace without losing the cut. The effect was pe- 
 culiar ; it would strike his commanding officer dumb 
 with mirth and horror. He blushed in a deprecating 
 manner whenever we glanced at him. 
 
 There was a bath-house beside the river. But a 
 greater luxury was the hot bath, presided over by old 
 Alexandra. Alexandra, born a serf on the estate, 
 was now like a humble member of the family, the 
 relations not having changed, perceptibly, since the 
 emancipation, to the old woman's satisfaction. She 
 believed firmly in the Domovdi (the house sprite), 
 and told wonderful tales of her experiences with him. 
 Skepticism on that point did not please her. When 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 2G7 
 
 the horses were brought round with matted manes, a 
 sign of tin affectionate visit from the Domovtii^ which 
 must not be removed, under penalty of his displeas- 
 ure, it was useless to tell Alexandra that a weasel 
 had been caught in the act, and that her sprite was 
 no other. She clung to her belief in her dreaded 
 friend. 
 
 The bath was a small log house, situated a short 
 distance from the manor. It was divided into ante- 
 room, dressing-room, and the bath proper. When we 
 were ready, Alexandra, a famous bath- woman, took 
 boiling water from the tank in the corner oven, which 
 had been heating for hours, made a strong lather, 
 and scrubbed us soundly with a wad of linden bast 
 shredded into fibres. Her wad was of the choicest 
 sort ; not that which is sold in the popular markets, 
 but that which is procured by stripping into rather 
 coarse filaments the strands of an old mat-sack, such 
 as is used for everything in Russia, from wrappers 
 for sheet iron to bags for carrying a pound of cher- 
 ries. After a final douche with boiling water, we 
 mounted the high shelf, with its wooden pillow, and 
 the artistic part of the operation began. As we lay 
 there in the suffocating steam, Alexandra whipped 
 us thoroughly with a small besom of birch twigs, 
 rendered pliable and secure of their tender leaves by 
 a preliminary plunge in boiling water. When we 
 gasped for breath, she interpreted it as a symptom of 
 speechless delight, and flew to the oven and dashed a 
 bucket of cold water on the red-hot stones placed 
 there for the purpose. The steam poured forth in 
 intolerable clouds ; but we submitted, powerless to 
 protest. Alexandra, with all her clothes on, seemed 
 not to feel the heat. She administered a merciless 
 
268 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 yet gentle massage to every limb with her birch 
 rods, what would it have been like if she had 
 used nettles, the peasants' delight ? and rescued us 
 from utter collapse just in time by a douche of ice- 
 cold water. We huddled on all the warm clothing 
 \ve owned, were driven home, plied with boiling tea, 
 and put to bed for two hours. At the end of that 
 time we felt made over, physically, and ready to 
 beg for another birching. But we were warned not 
 to expose ourselves to cold for at least twenty -four 
 hours, although we had often seen peasants, fresh 
 from their bath, birch besom in hand, in the wintry 
 streets of the two capitals. 
 
 We visited the peasants in their cottages, and found 
 them very reluctant to sell anything except towel 
 crash. All other linen which they wove they needed 
 for themselves, and it looked as even and strong as 
 iron. Here in the south the rope-and-moss-plugged 
 log house stood flat on the ground, and was thatched 
 with straw, which was secured by a ladder-like arrange- 
 ment of poles along the gable ends. Three tiny 
 windows, with tinier panes, relieved the street front of 
 the house. The entrance was on the side, from the 
 small farmyard, littered with farming implements, 
 chickens, and manure, and inclosed with the usual 
 fence of wattled branches. From the small ante-room 
 designed to keep out the winter ^cold, the store-room 
 opened at the rear, and the living-room at the front. 
 The left hand corner of the living-room, as one entered, 
 was occupied by the oven, made of stones and clay, 
 and whitewashed. In it the cooking was done by 
 placing the pots among the glowing wood coals. The 
 bread was baked when the coals had been raked out. 
 Later still, when desired, the owners took their steam 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 269 
 
 bath, more resembling a rousting, inside it, and the 
 old people kept their aged bones warm by sleeping 
 on top of it, close to the low ceiling. Round three 
 sides of the room ran a broad bench, which served 
 for furniture and beds. In the right-hand corner, 
 opposite the door, the " great corner " of honor, 
 was the case of images, in front of which stood the 
 rough table whereon meals were eaten. This was 
 convenient, since the images were saluted, at the be- 
 ginning and end of meals, with the sign of the cross 
 and a murmured prayer. The case contained the sa- 
 cred picture wherewith the young couple were blessed 
 by their parents on their marriage, and any others 
 which they might have acquired, with possibly a 
 branch of their Palm Sunday pussy willows. A nar- 
 row room, monopolizing one of the windows, opened 
 from the living-room, beyond the oven, and served as 
 pantry and kitchen. A wooden trough, like a chop- 
 ping-tray, was the washtub. The ironing or man- 
 gling apparatus consisted of a rolling-pin, round which 
 the article of clothing was wrapped, and a curved pad- 
 dle of hard wood, its under-surface carved in pretty 
 geometrical designs, with which it was smoothed. 
 This paddle served also to beat the clothes upon the 
 stones, when the washing was done in the river, in 
 warm weather. A few wooden bowls and spoons and 
 earthen pots, including the variety which keeps rnilk 
 cool without either ice or running water, completed 
 the household utensils. Add a loom for weaving 
 crash, the blue linen for the men's trousers and the 
 women's scant sarafans, and the white for their 
 aprons and chemises, and the cloth for coats, and the 
 furnishing was done. 
 
 The village granaries, with wattled walls and 
 
270 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 thatched roofs, are placed apart, to lessen the danger 
 from fire, near the large gates which give admission 
 to the village, through the wattled fence encircling it. 
 These gates, closed at night, are guarded by peasants 
 who are unfitted, through age or infirmities, for field 
 labor. QThey employ themselves, in their tiny wat- 
 tled lean-tos, in plaiting the low shoes of linden bark, 
 used by both men and women, in making carts, or 
 in some other simple occupation. An axe a whole 
 armory of tools to the Kussian peasant and an 
 iron bolt are their sole implements. 
 
 We were cut off from intercourse with one of the 
 neighboring estates by the appearance there of the 
 Siberian cattle plague, and were told that, should it 
 spread, arrivals from that quarter would be admitted 
 to the village only after passing through the disin- 
 fecting fumes of dung fires burning at the gate. 
 
 Incendiaries and horse-thieves are the scourges of 
 village life in Russia. Such men can be banished to 
 Siberia, by a vote of the Commune of peasant house- 
 holders. But as the Commune must bear the expense, 
 and people are afraid that the evil-doer will revenge 
 himself by setting the village on fire, if lie discovers 
 their plan, this privilege is exercised with comparative 
 rarity. The man who steals the peasant's horse con- 
 demns him to starva-tion and ruin. Such a man there 
 had been in our friends' village, and for long years they 
 had borne with him patiently. He was crafty and 
 lind " influence " in some mysterious fashion, which 
 made him a dangerous customer to deal with. But 
 at, last he was sent off. Now, during our visit, the 
 village was trembling over a rumor that he was on 
 his way back to wreak vengeance on his former neigh- 
 bors. I presume they were obliged to have him ban- 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 271 
 
 ished again, by administrative order from the Minis- 
 ter of the Interior, the only remedy when one of 
 this class of exiles has served out his term, before 
 they could sleep tranquilly. 
 
 When seen in his village home, it is impossible not 
 to admire the hard-working, intelligent, patient, gen- 
 tle, and sympathetic muzhik, in spite of all his faults. 
 We made acquaintance with some of his democratic 
 manners during a truly unique picnic, arranged by 
 our charming hosts expressly to convince us that the 
 famous sterlet merited its reputation. We had tried 
 it in first-class hotels and at their own table, as well 
 as at other private tables, and we maintained that it 
 was merely a sweet, fine-grained, insipid fish. 
 
 " Wait until we show you zhirytikha [sterlet grilled 
 in its own fat] and ukhd [soup] as prepared by the 
 fishermen of the Volga. The Petersburg and Moscow 
 people cannot even tell you the meaning of the word 
 4 zhiry 6khaJ " was the reply. " As for the famous 
 * amber ' soup, you have seen that even Osip's efforts 
 do not deserve the epithet." 
 
 Accordingly, we assembled one morning at seven 
 o'clock, to the sound of the hunting-horn, to set out 
 for a point on the Volga twelve miles distant. We 
 found Milt6n, the Milliner, and the whole litter of 
 officials in possession of the carriage, and the coach- 
 man's dignity relaxed into a grin at their antics, 
 evoked by a suspicion that we were going hunting. 
 Our vehicle, on this occasion, as on all our expeditions 
 to field and forest, was a stoutly built, springless car- 
 riage, called a linSika, or little line, which is better 
 adapted than any other to country roads, and is much 
 used. In Kazan, by some curious confusion of ideas, 
 it is called a " guitar." Another nickname for it is 
 
272 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 " the lieutenant's coach," which was bestowed upon 
 it by the Emperor Nicholas. The Tzar came to 
 visit one of the Volga provinces, and found a lineika 
 awaiting him at the landing, for the reason that 
 nothing more elegant, and with springs, could scale 
 the ascent to the town, over the rough roads. The 
 landed proprietors of that government were noted foi" 
 their dislike for the service of the state, which led 
 them to shirk it, regardless of the dignity and titles 
 to be thus acquired. They were in the habit of re- 
 tiring to their beloved country homes when they had 
 attained the lowest permissible rung of that wonder- 
 ful Jacob's ladder leading to the heaven of official- 
 dom, established by Peter the Great, and dubbed 
 the Table of Ranks. This grade was lieutenant in 
 the army or navy, and the corresponding counselor 
 in the civil service. The story runs that Nicholas 
 stretched himself out at full length on it for a mo- 
 ment, and gave it its name. Naturally, such men 
 accepted the Emperor's jest as a compliment, and 
 perpetuated its memory. 
 
 This style of carriage, which I have already de- 
 scribed in my account of our visit to Count Tolst6y, 
 is a development of the Russian racing-gig, which is 
 also used for rough driving in the country, by landed 
 proprietors. In the latter case it is merely a short 
 board, bare or upholstered, on which the occupant 
 sits astride, with his feet resting on the forward axle. 
 Old engravings represent this uncomfortable model 
 as the public carriage of St. Petersburg at the close 
 of the last century. 
 
 Our tr6'ika of horses was caparisoned in blue and 
 red leather, lavishly decorated with large metal 
 plaques and with chains which musically replaced 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 273 
 
 portions of the leather straps. Over the IK ck of 
 tin 4 middle horse, who trotted, rose an ornamented 
 arch of wood. The side horses, loosely attached by 
 leather thongs, galloped with much freedom and 
 grace, their heads bent downward and outward, so 
 that we could watch their beautiful eyes and crimson 
 nostrils. Our coachman's long armydk of dark blue 
 cloth, confined by a gay girdle, was topped by a close 
 turban hat of black felt, stuck all the way round 
 with a row" of eyes from a peacock's tail. He ob- 
 served all the correct rules of Russian driving, dash- 
 ing up ascents at full speed, and holding his arms 
 outstretched as though engaged in a race, which our 
 pace suggested. 
 
 Our road to the Volga lay, at first, through a vast 
 grainfield, dotted with peasants at the harvest. Miles 
 of sunflowers followed. They provide oil for the 
 poorer classes to use in cooking during the numer- 
 ous fasts, when butter is forbidden, and seeds to 
 chew in place of the unattainable peanut. Our goal 
 was a village situated beneath lofty chalk hills, daz- 
 zling white in the sun. A large portion of the vil- 
 lage, which had been burned a short time before, 
 was already nearly rebuilt, thanks to the ready-made 
 houses supplied by the novel wood-yards of Samara. 
 
 The butler had been dispatched on the previous 
 evening, with a wagon-load of provisions and com- 
 forts, and with orders to make the necessary arrange- 
 ments for a boat and crew with fisherman Pi6tr. But, 
 for reasons which seemed too voluble and complicated 
 for adequate expression, Pi6tr had been as slow of 
 movement as my bumptious yamtschik of the posting- 
 station, and nothing was ready. Pi6tr, like many 
 elderly peasants, might sit for the portrait of his apos- 
 
274 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 tolic namesake. But he approved of more wine *' for 
 the stomach's sake " than any apostle ever ventured 
 to recommend, and he had ingenious methods of se- 
 curing it. For example, when he brought crayfish 
 to the house, he improved the opportunity. The fish- 
 ermen scorn these dainties, and throw them oat of 
 the nets. The fact that they were specially ordered 
 was sufficient hint to Piotr. He habitually concealed 
 them in the steward's hemp patch or some other 
 handy nook, and presented himself to our host with 
 the announcement that he would produce them when 
 he was paid his " tea-money " in advance, in the 
 shape of a glass of vtidka. The swap always took 
 place. 
 
 In spite of this weakness, Pi6tr was a very well- 
 to-do peasant. We inspected his establishment and 
 tasted his cream, while he was exhausting his stock 
 of language. His house was like all others of that 
 region in plan, and everything was clean and orderly. 
 It had an air about it as if no one ever ate or 
 really did any work there, which was decidedly de- 
 ceptive, and his living-room contained the nearest 
 approach to a bed and bedding which we had seen : 
 a platform supported by two legs and the wall, and 
 spread with a small piece of heavy gray and black 
 felt. 
 
 ~ Finding that Pi6tr's eloquence had received lengthy 
 inspiration, we bore him off, in the middle of his per- 
 oration, to the river, where we took possession of a 
 boat with a chronic leak, and a prow the exact shape 
 of a sterlet's nose reversed. But Pi6tr swore that it 
 was the stanchest craft between Astrakhan and Ry- 
 binsk, and intrepidly took command, steering with a 
 long paddle, while four alert young peasants plied 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 275 
 
 the oars. Pi6tr's costume consisted of a cotton shirt 
 and brief trousers. The others added caps, which, 
 however, they wore only spasmodically. 
 
 A picnic without singing was not to be thought of, 
 and we requested the men to favor us with some 
 folk-songs. No bashful schoolgirls could have re- 
 sisted our entreaties with more tortuous graces than 
 did those untutored peasants? One of them was such 
 an exact blond copy of a pretty brunette American, 
 whom we had always regarded as the most affected 
 of her sex, that we fairly stared him out of counte- 
 nance, in our amazement ; and we made mental apol- 
 ogies to the American on the spot. 
 
 " Please sing ' Adown dear Mother Volga,' " the 
 conversation ran. 
 
 " We can't sing." " We don't know it." " You 
 sing it and show us how, and we will join in." 
 
 The Affected One capped the climax with "It's 
 not in the mo-o-o-ode now, that song ! " with a deli- 
 cate assumption of languor which made his comrades 
 explode in suppressed convulsions of mirth. Finally 
 they supplied the key, but not the keynote. 
 
 " Give us some v6dka, and we may, perhaps, re- 
 member something." 
 
 Promises of vtidka at the end of the voyage, when 
 the danger was over, were rejected without hesita- 
 tion. We reached our breakfast-ground in profound 
 silence. 
 
 Fortunately, the catch of sterlet at this stand had 
 been good. The fishermen grilled some " in their 
 own fat," by salting them and spitting them alive 
 on peeled willow wands, which they thrust into the 
 ground, in a slanting position, over a bed of glowing 
 coals. Anything more delicious it would be difficult 
 
276 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 to imagine ; and we began to revise our opinion of 
 the sterlet. In the mean time our boatmen had dis- 
 covered some small, sour ground blackberries, which 
 they gallantly presented to us in their caps. Their 
 feelings were so deeply wounded by our attempts to 
 refuse this delicacy that we accepted and actually 
 ate them, to the great satisfaction of the songless 
 rogues who stood over us^ 
 
 Our own fishing with a line resulted in nothing 
 but the sport and sunburn. We bought a quantity 
 of sterlet, lest the fishermen at the camp where we 
 had planned to dine should have been unlucky, placed 
 them in a net such as is used in towns for carrying 
 fish from market, and trailed them in the water be- 
 hind our boat. 
 
 We were destined to experience all possible aspects 
 of a Volga excursion, that day, short of absolute ship- 
 wreck. As we floated down the mighty stream, a 
 violent thunderstorm broke over our heads with the 
 suddenness characteristic of the country. We were 
 wet to the skin before we could get at the rain-cloaks 
 on which we were sitting, but our boatmen remained 
 as dry as ever, to our mystification. In the middle 
 of the storm, our unworthy vessel sprung a fresh leak, 
 the water poured in, and we were forced to run 
 aground on a sand-bank for repairs. These were 
 speedily effected, with a wad of paper, by Pi6tr, who, 
 with a towel cast about his head and shoulders, looked 
 more like an apostle than ever. 
 
 It appeared that our fishing-camp had moved away ; 
 but we found it, at last, several miles downstream, 
 on a sand-spit backed with willow bushes. It was 
 temporarily deserted, save for a man who was repair- 
 ing a net, and who assured us that his comrades 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 277 
 
 would soon return from their trip, for supplies, to the 
 small town which we could discern on the slope of 
 the hillshore opposite. There was nothing to ex- 
 plore on our sand-reef except the fishermen's prim- 
 itive shelter, composed of a bit of sail-cloth and a few 
 boards, furnished with simple cooking utensils, and 
 superintended by a couple of frolicsome kittens, who 
 took an unfeline delight in wading along in the edge of 
 the water. So we spread ourselves out to dry on the 
 clean sand, in the rays of the now glowing sun, and 
 watched the merchandise, chiefly fish, stacked like 
 cord wood, being towed up from Astrakhan in great 
 barges. 
 
 At last our fisher hosts arrived, and greeted us 
 with grave courtesy and lack of surprise. They be- 
 gan their preparations by scouring out their big camp 
 kettle with beach sand, and building a fire at the 
 water's edge to facilitate the cleaning of the fish. 
 We followed their proceedings with deep interest, 
 being curious to learn the secret of the genuine "am- 
 ber sterlet soup." This was what we discovered. 
 
 The fish must be alive. They remain so after the 
 slight preliminaries, and are plunged into the sim- 
 mering water, heads and all, the heads and the parts 
 adjacent being esteemed a delicacy. No other fish 
 are necessary, no spices or ingredients except a little 
 salt, the cookery-books to the contrary notwjthstand- 
 ing. The sterlet is expensive in regions where the 
 cook-book flourishes, and the other fish are merely a 
 cheat of town economy. The scum is not removed, 
 this is the capital point, but stirred in as fast 
 as it rises. If the ukhd be skimmed, after the man- 
 ner of professional cooks, the whole flavor and rich- 
 ness are lost. 
 
278 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 While the soup was boiling and more sterlet were 
 being grilled in their own fat, as a second course, our 
 men pitched our tent and ran up our flag, and the 
 butler set the table on our big rug. It was lucky 
 that we had purchased fish at our breakfast-place, 
 as no sterlet had been caught at this camp. When 
 the soup made its appearance, we comprehended 
 the epithet " amber" and its fame. Of a deep gold, 
 almost orange color, with the rich fat, and clear as a 
 topaz, it was utterly unlike anything we had ever 
 tasted. We understood the despair of Parisian gour- 
 mets and cooks, and we confirmed the verdict, pro- 
 visionally announced at breakfast, that the sterlet 
 is the king of all fish. As it is indescribable, I may 
 be excused for not attempting to do justice to it in 
 words. 
 
 While we feasted, the fishermen cooked themselves 
 a kettle of less dainty fish, as a treat from us, since 
 the fish belong to the contractor who farms the 
 ground, not to the men. Their meal ended, the reg- 
 ulation cross and prayer executed, they amiably con- 
 sented to anticipate the usual hour for casting their 
 net, in order that we might see the operation. The 
 net, two hundred and fifty fathoms in length, was 
 manoeuvred down the long beach well out in the 
 Stream by one man in a boat, and by five men on 
 shore, who harnessed themselves to a long cable by 
 halters woven from the soft inner bark of the linden- 
 tree. We grasped the rope and helped them pull. 
 We might not have been of much real assistance, but 
 we learned, at least, how heavy is this toil, repeated 
 many times a day, even when the pouch reveals so 
 slender a catch as in the present instance. There was 
 nothing very valuable in it, though there was variety 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 279 
 
 enough, and we were deceived, for a moment, by sev- 
 eral false sterlet. 
 
 The small samovar which we had brought gave us 
 a steaming welcome, on our return to camp. Perched 
 on the fishermen's seatless chair and stool, and on 
 boxes, we drank our tea and began our preparations 
 for departure, bestowing a reward on the men, who 
 had acted their parts as impromptu hosts to perfec- 
 tion. It was late ; but our men burst into song, when 
 their oars dipped in the waves, as spontaneously as 
 the nightingales which people these shores in spring- 
 time, inspired probably by the full moon, which 
 they melodiously apostrophized as " the size of a 
 twenty-kopek bit." They sang of Ste*nka Razin. the 
 bandit chief, who kept the Volga and the Caspian 
 Sea in a state of terror during the reign of Peter the 
 Great's father ; of his " poor people, good youths, fu- 
 gitives, who were no thieves nor brigands, but only 
 Stenka Razin's workmen." They declared, in all se- 
 riousness, that he had been wont to navigate upon a 
 felt rug, like the one we had seen in Pi6tr"s cottage ; 
 and they disputed over the exact shade of meaning 
 contained in the words which he was in the habit of 
 using when he summoned a rich merchant vessel to 
 surrender as his prize. Evidently, Stenka was no 
 semi-epic, mythical hero to them, but a living reality. 
 
 " Adown dear Mother Volga, 
 Adown her mighty sweep," 
 
 they sang ; and suddenly ran the boat aground, and 
 fled up the steep slope like deer, carrying with them 
 their tall winter boots of gray felt, which- had lain 
 under the thwarts all day. We waited, shivering in 
 the keen night air, and wondering whether we were 
 deserted on this lonely reach of the river at midnight. 
 
280 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 If the apostle Peter understood the manoeuvre, he was 
 loyal and kept their counsel. He gave no comfort be- 
 yond the oracular saytchds, which we were intended to 
 construe as meaning that they would be back in no 
 time. 
 
 When they did return, after a long absence, their 
 feet were as bare as they had been all day. Their 
 boots were borne tenderly in their arms, and were 
 distended to their utmost capacity with apples ! In 
 answer to our remonstrances, they replied cheerfully 
 that the night was very warm, and that the apples 
 came from " their garden, over yonder on the bank." 
 On farther questioning, their village being miles dis- 
 tant, they retorted, with a laugh, that they had gar- 
 dens all along the river ; and they offered to share 
 their plunder with us. The Affected One tossed an 
 apple past my head, with the cry, "Catch, Sasha ! " 
 to our host, of whose familiar name he had taken 
 note during the day. After this and other experi- 
 ences, we were prepared to credit an anecdote which 
 had been related to us of a peasant in that neigh- 
 borhood, to illustrate the democratic notions of his 
 class which prevailed even during the days of serf- 
 dom. One of the provincial assemblies, to which 
 nobles and peasants have been equally eligible for 
 election since the emancipation, met for the first time, 
 thus newly constituted. One of the nobles, desir- 
 ous of making the peasants feel at home, rose and 
 began : 
 
 " We bid you welcome, our younger brothers, to 
 this " 
 
 " We are nobody's inferiors or younger brothers 
 any more," interrupted a peasant member, "and we 
 will not allow you to call us so.'* 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 281 
 
 The nobles took the hint, and made no further 
 unnecessary advances. Yes, these Volga peasants 
 certainly possess as strong a sense of democratic 
 equality as any one could wish. But the soft in- 
 genuousness of their manners and their tact disarm 
 wrath at the rare little liberties which they take. 
 Even their way of addressing their former masters 
 by the familiar "thou" betokens respectful affection, 
 not impertinence. 
 
 Our men soon wearied of pulling against the pow- 
 erful current, dodging the steamers and the tug-boats 
 with their strings of barks signaled by constellations 
 of colored lanterns high in air. Perhaps they would 
 have borne up better had we been able to obtain 
 some Astrakhan watermelons from the steamer 
 wharves, which we besieged in turn as we passed. 
 They proposed to tow us. On Pi6tr's assurance that 
 it would be a far swifter mode of locomotion, and 
 that they would pay no more visits to " their gar- 
 dens," we consented. They set up a mast through 
 an opening in one of the thwarts, passed through a 
 hole in its top a cord the size of a cod-line, fastened 
 this to the stern of the boat, and leaped ashore with 
 the free end. Off they darted, galloping like horses 
 along the old tow-path, and singing vigorously. 
 Pi6tr remained on board to steer. As we dashed 
 rapidly through the water, we gained practical know- 
 ledge of the manner in which every pound of mer- 
 chandise was hauled to the great Fair from Astra- 
 khan, fourteen hundred and forty miles, before the 
 introduction of steamers, except in the comparatively 
 rare cases where oxen were made to wind windlasses 
 on the deck of a bark. It would have required hours 
 of hard rowing to reach our goal ; but by this means 
 
282 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 we were soon walking across the yielding sands to 
 Piotr's cottage. Our cunning rogues of boatmen 
 took advantage of our scattered march to obtain from 
 us separately such installments of tea-money as must, 
 in the aggregate, have rendered them hilarious for 
 days to come, if they paid themselves for their min- 
 strelsy in the coin which they had suggested to us 
 before breakfast. 
 
 Piotr's smiling wife, who was small, like most 
 Russian peasant women, had baked us some half-rye, 
 half-wheat bread, to our order ; she made it remark- 
 ably well, much better than Osip. We secured a 
 more lasting memento of her handiwork in the form 
 of some towel ends, which she had spun, woven, 
 drawn, and worked very prettily. Some long-haired 
 heads were thrust over the oven-top to inspect us, but 
 the bodies did not follow. They were better engaged 
 in enjoying the heat left from the baking. 
 
 It was two o'clock in the morning when we drove 
 through the village flock of sheep, that lay asleep 
 on the grassy street. With hand on pistol, to guard 
 against a possible stray wolf, we dashed past the 
 shadowy chalk hills ; past the nodding sunflowers, 
 whose sleepy eyes were still turned to the east ; past 
 the grainfields, transmuted from gold to silver by 
 the -moonlight ; past the newly plowed land, which 
 looked like velvet billows in its depths of brown, as 
 the moon sank lower and lower beyond in a mantle 
 of flame. 
 
 By this time practice had rendered us expert in 
 retaining our seats in the low, springless lineika ; 
 fortunately, for we were all three quarters asleep at 
 intervals, with excess of fresh air. Even when the 
 moon had gone down, and a space of darkness inter- 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 283 
 
 vened before the day, our headlong pace was not 
 slackened for a moment. As we drove up to the 
 door, in the pearl-pink dawn, Tulip, the huge yellow 
 mastiff with tawny eyes, the guardian of the court- 
 yard, received us with his usual ceremony, through 
 which pierced a petition for a caivss. We heeded 
 him not. By six o'clock \ve were fast asleep. Not 
 even a packet of letters from home could keep our 
 eyes open after that four-and-twenty hours' picnic, 
 which had been un marred by a single fault, but 
 which had contained all the " experiences " and 
 " local color " which we could have desired. 
 
 How can I present a picture of all the variations 
 in those sweet, busy-idle days ? They vanished all 
 too swiftly. But now the rick-yard was heaped 
 high with golden sheaves ; the carts came in steady 
 lines, creaking under endless loads, from those fields 
 which, two years later, lay scorched with drought, and 
 over which famine brooded. The peasant girls tossed 
 the grain, with forked boughs, to the threshing- 
 machine, tended by other girls. The village boys 
 had a fine frolic dragging the straw away in bundles 
 laid artfully on the ends of two long poles fastened 
 shaft- wise to the horse's flanks. We had seen the 
 harvesting, the plowing with the primitive wooden 
 plow, the harrowing with equally simple contriv- 
 ances, and the new grain was beginning to clothe 
 the soil with a delicate veil of green. It was time 
 for us to go. During our whole visit, not a moment 
 had hung heavy on our hands, here in the depths of 
 the country, where visitors were comparatively few 
 and neighbors distant, such had been the unwearied 
 attention and kindness of our hosts. 
 
 We set out for the river once more. This time 
 
284 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 we had a landau, and a cart for our luggage. As we 
 halted to drink milk in the Tchuvash village, the in- 
 habitants who chanced to be at home thronged about 
 our carriage. We espied several women arrayed in 
 their native costume, which has been almost entirely 
 abandoned for the Russian dress, and is fast becom- 
 ing a precious rarity. The men have already dis- 
 carded their dress completely for the Russian. We 
 sent one of the women home to fetch her Sunday 
 gown, and purchased it on the spot. Such a wonder- 
 ful piece of work ! The woman had spun, woven, 
 and sewed it; she had embroidered it in beautiful 
 Turanian, not Russian, patterns, with silks, dull 
 red, pale green, relieved by touches of dark blue ; 
 she had striped it lengthwise with bands of red cot- 
 ton and embroidery, and crosswise with fancy ribbons 
 and gay calicoes ; she had made a mosaic of the back 
 which must have delighted her rear neighbors in 
 church ; and she had used the gown with such care 
 that, although it had never been washed, it was not 
 badly soiled. One piece for the body, two for the 
 head, a sham pocket, that was all. The footgear 
 consisted of crash bands, bast slippers, rope cross- 
 garters. The artists to whom I showed the costume, 
 later on, pronounced it Mi-ethnographical prize. 
 
 These Tchuvashi are a small, gray-eyed, olive- 
 skinned race, with cheek-bones and other features 
 like the Tatars, but less well preserved than with the 
 latter, in spite of their always marrying among them- 
 selves. There must have been dilution of the race 
 at some time, if the characteristics were as strongly 
 marked as with the Tatars, in their original ances- 
 tors from Asia. Most of them are baptized into 
 the Russian faith, and their villages have Russian 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 285 
 
 churches.. Nevertheless, along with their native 
 tongue they are believed to retain many of tlieir 
 ancient pagan customs and superstitions, although 
 baptism is in no sense compulsory. The priest in 
 our friends' village, who had lived among them, had 
 told us that such is the case. But he had also de- 
 clared that they possess many estimable traits of 
 character, and that their family life is deserving of 
 imitation in more than one particular. This village 
 of theirs looked prosperous and clean. The men, 
 being brought more into contact with outsiders than 
 the women, speak Russian better than the latter, 
 and more generally. It is not exactly a case which 
 proves woman's conservative tendencies. 
 
 On reaching the river, and finding that no steamer 
 was likely to arrive for several hours, we put up at 
 the cottage of a prosperous peasant, which was pat- 
 ronized by many of the neighboring nobles, in pref- 
 erence to the wretched inns of that suburb of the 
 wharves. The " best room " had a citified air, with 
 its white curtains, leaf plants, pretty china tea ser- 
 vice, and photographs of the family on the wall. 
 These last seemed to us in keeping with the sew- 
 ing-machine which we had seen a peasant woman 
 operating in a shop of the Jittle posting-town inland. 
 They denoted progress, since many peasants cherish 
 religious scruples or superstitions about having their 
 portraits taken in any form. 
 
 The athletic sons, clad only in shirts and trousers 
 of sprigged print, with fine chestnut hair, which com- 
 pensated for their bare feet, vacated the room for 
 our use. They and the house were as clean as pos- 
 sible. Outside, near the entrance door, hung the 
 family washstand, a double-spouted teapot of bronze 
 
286 A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 
 
 suspended by chains. But it was plain that they did 
 not pin their faith wholly to it, and that they took 
 the weekly steam bath which is customary with the 
 peasants. Not everything was citified in the matter 
 of sanitary arrangements. But these people seemed 
 to thrive, as our ancestors all did, and probably re- 
 garded us as over-particular. 
 
 To fill in the interval of waiting, we made an ex- 
 cursion to the heart of the town, and visited the pretty 
 public garden overhanging the river, and noteworthy 
 for its superb dahlias. As we observed the types of 
 young people who were strolling there, we recognized 
 them, with slight alterations only, which the lapse 
 of time explained, from the types which we had seen 
 on the stage in Ostt 6vsky's famous play " The Thun- 
 derstorm." The scene of that play is laid on the 
 banks of the Volga, in just such a garden ; why 
 should it not have been on this spot? 
 
 All peasant izbui are so bewilderingly alike that 
 we found our special cottage again with some diffi- 
 culty, by the light of the young moon. By this 
 time " the oldest inhabitant" had hazarded a guess 
 as to the line whose steamer would arrive first. Ac- 
 cordingly, we gathered up our small luggage and our 
 Tchuv&sh costume, and fairly rolled down the steep, 
 pathless declivity of slippery turf, groping our way 
 to the right wharf. How the luggage cart got down 
 was a puzzle. Here we ordered in the samovdr, and 
 feasted until far into the night on the country dain- 
 ties which we had brought with us, supplemented by 
 one of the first watermelons from Astrakhan, which 
 we had purchased from a belated dealer in the de- 
 serted town market. The boat was late, as a matter 
 of course ; but we understood the situation now, and 
 
A JOURNEY ON THE VOLGA. 287 
 
 asked no questions. When it arrived, we and our 
 charming hosts, whose society we were to enjoy for 
 a few days longer, embarked for Samara, to visit the 
 famous kumys establishments on the steppes. 
 
 Russian harvest-tide was over for us, leaving be- 
 hind a store of memories as golden as the grain, fitly 
 framed on either hand by Mother Volga. 
 
XI. 
 
 THE RUSSIAN KUMf S CURE. 
 
 IT is not many years since every pound of freight, 
 every human being, bound to Astrakhan from the 
 interior of Russia simply floated down the river Volga 
 with the current. The return journey was made 
 slowly and painfully, in tow of those human beasts 
 of burden, the burlaki. The traces of their towpath 
 along the shores may still be seen, and the system 
 itself may even be observed at times, when light 
 barks have to be forced upstream for short distances. 
 
 Then some enterprising individual set up a line of 
 steamers, in the face of the usual predictions from 
 the wiseacres that he would ruin himself and all his 
 kin. The undertaking prov.ed so fabulously success- 
 ful and profitable that a wild rush of competition 
 ensued. But the competition seems to have con- 
 sisted chiefly in the establishment of rival lines of 
 steamers, and there are some peculiarities of river 
 travel which still exist in consequence. One of these 
 curious features is that each navigation company ap- 
 pears to have adopted a certain type of steamer at 
 the outset, and not to have improved on that original 
 idea to any marked degree. There are some honor- 
 able exceptions, it is true, and I certainly have a very 
 definite opinion concerning the line which I would 
 patronize on a second trip. Another idea, to which 
 they have clung with equal obstinacy, though it is far 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 289 
 
 from milking amends for the other, is that a journey 
 is worth a certain fixed sum per verst, utterly re- 
 gardless of the vast difference in the accommodations 
 offered. 
 
 Possibly it is a natural consequence of having been 
 born in America, and of having heard the American 
 boast of independence and progress and the foreign 
 boast of conservatism contrasted ever since I learned 
 my alphabet, not to exaggerate unduly, that I should 
 take particular notice of all illustrations of these 
 conflicting systems. Generally speaking, I advocate 
 a judicious mixture of the two, in varying propor- 
 tions to suit my taste on each special occasion. But 
 there are times when I distinctly favor the broadest 
 independence and progress. These Volga steamers 
 had afforded me a subject for meditations on this 
 point, at a distance, even before I was obliged to 
 undergo personal experience of the defects of con- 
 servatism. Before I had sailed four and twenty hours 
 on the broad bosom of Matushka V61ga, I was able 
 to pick out the steamers of all the rival lines at sight 
 with the accuracy of a veteran river pilot. There 
 was no great cleverness in that, I hasten to add ; 
 anybody but a blind man could have done as much ; 
 but that only makes my point the more forcible. 
 It was when we set out for Samara that we realized 
 most keenly the beauties of enterprise in this direc- 
 tion. 
 
 We had, nominally, a wide latitude of choice, as 
 all the lines made a stop at our landing. But when 
 we got tired of waiting for the steamer of our pref- 
 erence, the boats of all the lines being long over- 
 due, as usual, owing to low water in the river, and 
 took the first which presented itself, we found that 
 
290 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 the latitude in choice, so far as accommodations were 
 concerned, was even greater than had been apparent 
 at first sight. 
 
 Fate allotted us one of the smaller steamers, the 
 more commodious boats having probably " sat down 
 on a sand-bar," as the local expression goes. The 
 one on which we embarked had only a small dining- 
 room and saloon, one first-class cabin for men and 
 one for women, all nearly on a level with the water, 
 instead of high aloft, as in the steamers which we 
 had hitherto patronized, and devoid of deck-room for 
 promenading. The third-class cabin was on the for- 
 ward deck. The second-class cabin was down a pair 
 of steep, narrow stairs, whose existence we did not 
 discover when we went on board at midnight, and 
 which did not tempt us to investigation even when 
 we arose the next morning. Fortunately, there were 
 no candidates except ourselves and a Russian friend 
 for the six red velvet divans ranged round the walls 
 of the tiny " ladies' cabin," and the adjoining toilet- 
 room, and the man of the party enjoyed complete 
 seclusion in the men's cabin. In the large boats, 
 for the same price, we should have had separate 
 staterooms, each accommodating two persons. How- 
 ever, everything was beautifully clean, as usual on 
 Russian steamers so far as my experience goes, and 
 it made no difference for one night. The experi- 
 ence was merely of interest as a warning. 
 
 The city of Samara, as it presented itself to our 
 eyes the next morning, was the liveliest place on 
 the river Volga next to Nizhni Novgorod. While it 
 really is of importance commercially, owing to its 
 position on the Volga and on the railway from cen- 
 tral Russia, as a depot for the great Siberian trade 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 291 
 
 through Orenburg, the impression of alertness which 
 it produces is undoubtedly due to the fact that it 
 presents itself to full view in the foreground, instead 
 of lying at a distance from the wharves, or entirely 
 concealed. An American, who is accustomed to see 
 railways and steamers run through the very heart of 
 the cities which they serve, never gets thoroughly 
 inured to the Russian trick of taking important towns 
 on faith, because it has happened to be convenient 
 to place the stations out of sight and hearing, some- 
 times miles out of the city. Another striking point 
 about Samara is the abundance of red brick build- 
 ings, which is very unusual, not to say unprecedented, 
 in most of the older Russian towns, which revel in 
 stucco washed with white, blue, and yellow. 
 
 But the immediate foreground was occupied with 
 something more attractive than this. The wharves, 
 the space between them, and all the ground round 
 about were fairly heaped with fruit : apples in be- 
 wildering variety, ranging from the pi nk-and- white- 
 skinned " golden seeds " through the whole gamut 
 of apple hues; round striped watermelons and oval 
 cantaloupes with perfumed orange-colored flesh, from 
 Astrakhan ; plums and grapes. After wrestling with 
 these fascinations and with the merry izvtistchiki, we 
 set out on a little voyage of discovery, preparatory 
 to driving out to the famous kumys establishments, 
 where we had decided to stay instead of in the town 
 itself. 
 
 Much of Samara is too new in iis architecture, 
 and too closely resembles the simple, thrifty builders' 
 designs of a mushroom American settlement, to re- 
 quire special description. Although it is said to have 
 been founded at the close of the sixteenth century, 
 
292 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 to protect the Russians from the incursions of the 
 Kalmucks, Bashkirs, and Nogai Tatars, four disas- 
 trous conflagrations withirr the last forty-five years 
 have made way for " improvements " and entailed the 
 loss of characteristic features, while its rank as one 
 of the chief marts for the great Siberian trade has 
 caused a rapid increase in population, which now 
 numbers between seventy-five and eighty thousand. 
 
 One modern feature fully compensates, however, 
 by its originality, for a good many commonplace an- 
 tiquities. Near the wharves, on our way out of the 
 town, we passed a lumber-yard, which dealt wholly 
 in ready-made log houses. There stood a large as- 
 sortment of cottages, in the brilliant yellow of the 
 barked logs, of all sizes and at all prices, from fifteen 
 to one hundred dollars, forming a small suburb of 
 samples. The lumber is floated down the Volga and 
 her tributaries from the great forests of Uf&, and 
 made up in Samara. The peasant purchaser dis- 
 joints his house, floats it to a point near his village, 
 drags it piecemeal to its proper site, sets it up, roofs 
 it, builds an oven and a chimney of stones, clay, and 
 whitewash, plugs the interstices with rope or moss, 
 smears them with clay if he feels inclined, and his 
 house is ready for occupancy. Although such houses 
 are cheap and warm, it would be a great improve- 
 ment if the people could afford to build with brick, 
 so immense is the annual loss by fire in the villages. 
 Brick buildings are, however, far beyond the means 
 of most peasants, let them have the best will in the 
 world, and the ready-made cottages are a blessing, 
 though every peasant is capable of constructing one 
 for himself on very brief notice, if he has access to 
 a forest. But forests are not so common nowadays 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 293 
 
 along the Volga, and, as the advertisements say, this 
 novel lumber-yard " meets a real want." When the 
 Samarcand railway was opened, a number of these 
 cottages, in the one-room size, were placed on plat- 
 form cars, and to each guest invited to the ceremony 
 was assigned one of these unique drawing-room-car 
 coupe's. 
 
 About four miles from the town proper, on the 
 steppe, lie two noted knmys establishments; one of 
 them being the first resort of that kind ever set up, 
 at a time when the only other choice for invalids who 
 wished to take the cure was to share the hardships, 
 dirt, bad food, and carelessly prepared kumys of the 
 tented nomads of the steppes. The grounds of the 
 one which we had elected to patronize extended to 
 the very brink of the Volga. In accordance with the 
 admonitions of the specialist physicians to avoid 
 many-storied, ill- ventilated buildings with long corri- 
 dors, the hotel consists of numerous wooden structures, 
 of moderate size, chiefly in Moorish style, and painted 
 in light colors, scattered about a great inclosure which 
 comprises groves of pines and deciduous trees, " red 
 forest " and " black forest," as Russians would ex- 
 press it, lawns, arbors, shady walks, flower-beds, 
 and other things pleasing to the eye, and conducive 
 to comfort and very mild amusement. One of the 
 buildings even contains a hall, where dancing, con- 
 certs, and theatricals can be and are indulged in, in 
 the height of the season, although such violent and 
 crowded affairs as balls are, in theory, discounte- 
 nanced by the physicians. All these points we took 
 in at one curious glance, as we were being conducted 
 to the different buildings to inspect rooms. I am 
 afraid that we pretended to be very difficult to please, 
 
294 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 in order to gain a more extensive insight into the ar- 
 rangements. As the height of the season (which is 
 May and June) was past, we had a great choice of- 
 i'ered us, and I suppose that this made a difference in 
 the price, also. It certainly was not unreasonable. 
 We selected some rooms which opened on a small 
 private corridor. The furniture consisted of the 
 usual narrow iron bedstead (with linen and pillows 
 thrown in gratis, for a wonder), a tiny table which 
 disagreeably recalled American ideas as to that arti- 
 cle, an apology for a bureau, two armchairs, and no 
 washstand. The chairs were in their primitive stuff- 
 ing-and-burlap state, loose gray linen covers being 
 added when the rooms were prepared for us. Any 
 one who has ever struggled with his temper and the 
 slack-fitting shift of a tufted armchair will require 
 no explanation as to what took place between me 
 and my share of those untufted receptacles before I 
 deposited its garment under my bed, and announced 
 that burlap and tacks were luxurious enough for me. 
 That one item contained enough irritation and excite- 
 ment to ruin any " cure." 
 
 The washstand problem was even more complicated. 
 A small, tapering brass tank, holding about two quarts 
 of water, with a faucet which dripped into a diminu- 
 tive cup with an unstoppered waste-pipe, was screwed 
 to the wall in our little corridor. We asked for a 
 washstand, and this arrangement was introduced to 
 our notice, the chambermaid being evidently surprised 
 at the ignorance of barbarians who had never seen a 
 washstand before. We objected that a mixed party 
 of men and women could not use that decently, even 
 if two quarts of water were sufficient for three women 
 and a man. After much argument and insistence, 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 295 
 
 we obtained, piecemeal: item, one low stool; item, 
 one basin ; item, one pitcher. There were no fasten- 
 ings on the doors, except a hasp and staple to the 
 door of the corridor, to which, after due entreaty, we 
 secured an oblong padlock. 
 
 The next morning, the chambermaid came to the 
 door of our room opening on the private corridor 
 while we were dressing, and demanded the basin and 
 pitcher. " Some one else wants them ! " she shouted 
 through the door. We had discovered her to be a 
 person of so much decision of character, in the course 
 of our dealings with her on the preceding day, that 
 we were too wary to admit her, lest she should simply 
 capture the utensils and march off with them. As I 
 was the heaviest of the party, it fell to my lot to 
 brace myself against the unfastened door and parley 
 with her. Three times that woman returned to the 
 attack ; thrice we refused to surrender our hard-won 
 trophies, and asked her pointedly, " What do you do 
 for materials when the house is full, pray ? " After- 
 wards, while we were drinking our coffee on the de- 
 lightful half-covered veranda below, which had stuffed 
 seats running round the walls, and a flower-crowned 
 circular divan in the centre, a lively testimony to the 
 dry ness of the atmosphere, we learned that the per- 
 son who had wanted the basin and pitcher was the 
 man of our party. He begged us not to inquire into 
 the mysteries of his toilet, and refused to help us 
 solve the riddle of the guests' cleanliness when the 
 hotel was full. I assume, on reflection, however, that 
 they were expected to take Russian or plain baths 
 every two or three days, to rid themselves of the 
 odor of the kumys, which exudes copiously through 
 the pores of the skin and scents the garments. On 
 
296 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 other days a " lick and a promise " were supposed to 
 suffice, so that their journals must have resembled 
 that of the man who wrote : " Monday, washed myself. 
 Tuesday, washed hands and face. Wednesday, 
 washed hands only." That explanation is not wholly 
 satisfactory, either, because the Russians are clean 
 people. 
 
 As coffee is one of the articles of food which are 
 forbidden to kumys patients, though they may drink 
 tea without lemon or milk, we had difficulty in get- 
 ting it at all. It was long in coming ; bad and high- 
 priced when it did make its appearance. As we were 
 waiting, an invalid lady and the novice nun who was 
 in attendance upon her began to sing in a room near 
 by. They had no instrument. What it was that 
 they sang, I do not know. It was gentle as a breath, 
 melting as a sigh, soft and slow like a conventional 
 chant, and sweet as the songs of the Russian Church 
 or of the angels. There are not many strains in this 
 world upon which one hangs entranced, in breathless 
 eagerness, and the memory of which haunts one ever 
 after. But this song was one of that sort, and it lin- 
 gers in my memory as a pure delight ; in company 
 with certain other fragments of church music heard 
 in that land, as among the most beautiful upon earth. 
 
 I may as well tell at once the whole story of the 
 food, so far as we explored its intricate mysteries. 
 We were asked if we wished to take the table d'hote 
 breakfast in the establishment. We said " yes," and 
 presented ourselves promptly. We were served with 
 beefsteak, in small, round, thick pieces. 
 
 " What queer beefsteak ! " said one of our Russian 
 friends. " Is there no other meat ? " 
 
 " No, madam." 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 297 
 
 We all looked at it for several minutes. We said 
 it was natural, when invalids drank from three to five 
 bottles of the nourishing kumys a day, that they 
 should not require much extra food, and that the 
 management provided what variety was healthy and 
 advisable, no doubt ; only we would have liked a 
 choice ; and what queer steak ! 
 
 The first sniff, the first glance at that steak, of 
 peculiar grain and dark red hue, had revealed the 
 truth to us. But we saw that our Russian friends 
 were not initiated, and we knew that their stomachs 
 were delicate. We exchanged signals, took a mouth- 
 ful, declared it excellent, and ate bravely through 
 oar portions. The Russians followed our example. 
 Well it was much tenderer and better than the 
 last horseflesh to which we had been treated surrep- 
 titiously ; but I do not crave horseflesh as a regular 
 diet. It really was not surprising at a kumys estab- 
 lishment, where the horse is worshiped, alive or dead, 
 apparently, in Tatar fashion. 
 
 That afternoon we made it convenient to take our 
 dinner in town, on the veranda of a restaurant which 
 overlooked the busy Volga, with its mobile moods 
 of sunset and thunderstorm, where we compensated 
 ourselves for our unsatisfactory breakfast by a char- 
 acteristically Russian dinner, of which I will omit 
 details, except as regards the soup. This soup was 
 botvinya. A Russian once obligingly furnished me 
 with a description of a foreigner's probable views on 
 this national delicacy : "a slimy pool with a rock in 
 the middle, and creatures floating round about." 
 The rock is a lump of ice (botvinya being a cold 
 soup) in the tureen of strained kvas or sour cabbage. 
 Kvas is the sour, fermented liquor maile from black 
 
298 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 bread. In this liquid portion of the soup, which is 
 colored with strained spinach, floated small cubes of 
 fresh cucumber and bits of the green tops from 
 young onions. The solid part of the soup, served on 
 a platter, so that each person might mix the ingre- 
 dients according to his taste, consisted of cold boiled 
 sterlet, raw ham, more cubes of cucumber, more 
 bits of green onion tops, lettuce, crayfish, grated 
 horseradish, and granulated sugar. The first time I 
 encountered this really delectable dish, it was served 
 with salmon, the pale, insipid northern salmon. I 
 supposed that the lazy waiter had brought the soup 
 and fish courses together, to save himself trouble, 
 and I ate them separately, while I meditated a re- 
 buke to the waiter and a strong description of the 
 weak soup. The tables were turned on me, however, 
 when Mikhe'i appeared and grinned, as broadly as 
 his not overstrict sense of propriety permitted, at my 
 unparalleled ignorance, while he gave me a lesson in 
 the composition of botvinya. That botvinya was not 
 good, but this edition of it on the banks of the Volga, 
 with sterlet, was delicious. 
 
 We shirked our meals at the establishment with 
 great regularity, with the exception of morning 
 coffee, which was unavoidable, but we did justice to 
 its kumys, which was superb. Theoretically, the 
 mares should have had the advantage of better pas- 
 turage, at a greater distance from town ; but, as they 
 cannot be driven far to milk without detriment, that 
 plan involves making the kumys at a distance, and 
 transporting it to the "cure." There is another 
 famous establishment, situated a mile beyond ours, 
 where this plan is pursued. Ten miles away the 
 mares pasture, and the kumys is made at a subsidi- 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 299 
 
 ary cure, where cheap quarters are provided for 
 poorer patients. But, either on account of the trans- 
 portation under the hot sun, or because the profes- 
 sional " taster " is lacking in delicacy of perception, 
 we found the kumys at this rival establishment 
 coarse in both flavor and smell, in comparison with 
 that at our hostelry. 
 
 Our mares, on the contrary, were kept close by, 
 and the kumys was prepared on the spot. It is the 
 first article of faith in the creed of the kumys expert 
 that no one can prepare this milk wine properly 
 except Tatars. Hence, when any one wishes to 
 drink it at home, a Tatar is sent for, the necessary 
 niares are set aside for him, and he makes what is 
 required. But the second article of faith is that 
 kumys is much better when made in large quantities. 
 The third is that a kumys specialist, or doctor, is as 
 indispensable for the regulation of the cure as he is 
 at mineral springs. The fourth article in the creed 
 is that mares grazing on the rich plume-grass of the 
 steppe produce milk which is particularly rich in 
 sugar, very poor in fat, and similar to woman's milk 
 in its proportion of albumen, though better fur- 
 nished: all which facts combine to give kumys 
 whose chemical proportions differ greatly from those 
 of kumys prepared elsewhere. Moreover, on private 
 estates it is not always possible to observe all the 
 conditions regarding the choice and care of the 
 mares. 
 
 At our establishment there were several Tatars to 
 milk the mares and make the kumys. The wife of 
 one of them, a Tatar beauty, was the professional 
 taster, who issued her orders like an autocrat on that 
 delicate point. She never condescended to work, 
 
300 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 and it was our opinion that she ought to devote her- 
 self to dress, in her many leisure hours, instead of 
 lounging about in ugly calico sacks and petticoats, 
 as hideous as though they had originated in a back- 
 woods farm in New England. She explained, how- 
 ever, that she was in a sort of mourning. Her hus- 
 hand was absent, and she could not make herself 
 beautiful for any one until his return, which she was 
 expecting every moment. She spent most of her time 
 in gazing, from a balcony on the cliff, up the river, 
 toward the bend backed by beautiful hills, to espy 
 her husband on the steamer. As he did not come, 
 we persuaded her, by arguments couched in silver 
 speech, to adorn herself on the sly for us. Then she 
 was afraid that the missing treasure might make his 
 appearance too soon, and she made such undue haste 
 that she faithlessly omitted the finishing touch, 
 blacking her pretty teeth. I gathered from her re- 
 marks that something particularly awful would 
 result should she be caught with those pearls ob- 
 scured in the presence of any other man when her 
 husband was not present ; but she may have been 
 using a little diplomacy to soothe us. Though she 
 was not a beauty in the ordinary sense of the Occi- 
 dent, she certainly was when dressed in her national 
 garb, as I had found to be the case with the Russian 
 peasant girls. Her loose sack, of a medium but bril- 
 liant blue woolen material, fell low over a petticoat 
 of the same terminating in a single flounce. Her 
 long black hair was carefully braided, and fell from 
 beneath an embroidered cap of crimson velvet with 
 a rounded end which hung on one side in a coquet- 
 tish way. Her neck was completely covered with a 
 necklace which descended to her waist like a breast- 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 301 
 
 plate, and consisted of gold coins, some of them 
 very ancient and valuable, medals, red beads, and a 
 variety of brilliant objects harmoniously combined. 
 Her heavy gold bracelets had been made to order in 
 Kazdn after a pure Tatar model, and her soft-soled 
 boots of rose-pink leather, with conventional designs 
 in many-colored moroccos, sewed together with rain- 
 bow-hued silks, reached nearly to her knees. Her 
 complexion was fresh and not very sallow, her nose 
 rather less like a button than is usual ; her high 
 cheek-bones were well covered, and her small dark 
 eyes made up by their brilliancy for the slight upward 
 slant of their outer corners. 
 
 Tatar girls, who made no pretensions to beauty in 
 dress or features, did the milking, and were aided in 
 that and the other real work connected with kumys- 
 making by Tatar men. According to the official 
 programme, the mares might be milked six or eight 
 times a day, and the yield was from a half to a whole 
 bottle apiece each time. Milk is always reckoned by 
 the bottle in Russia. I presume the custom arose 
 from the habit of sending the muzhik (" Boots ") to 
 the dairy-shop with an empty wine-bottle to fetch 
 the milk and cream for "tea," which sometimes 
 means coffee in the morning. The mare's milk has a 
 sweetish, almond-like flavor, and is very thin and 
 bluish in hue. 
 
 At three o'clock in the morning, the mares are 
 taken from the colts and shut up in a long shed which 
 is not especially weather-proof. In fact, there is not 
 much " weather " except wind to be guarded against 
 on the steppe. In about two hours, when the milk 
 has collected, the colts follow them voluntarily, and 
 are admitted and allowed to suck for a few seconds. 
 
302 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 Halters are then thrown about their necks, and they 
 are led forward where the mothers can nose them 
 over and lick them. The milkmaid's second assist- 
 ant then puts a halter on the neck of a mare and 
 holds her, or ties up one leg if she be restive. In 
 the mean time the foolish creature continues to let 
 down milk for her foal. The milkmaid kneels on 
 one knee and holds her pail on the other, after having 
 washed her hands carefully and wiped off the teats 
 with a clean, damp cloth. If the mare resists at first, 
 the milk obtained must not be used for kumys, as 
 her agitation affects the milk unfavorably. Roan, 
 gray, and chestnut mares are preferred, and in order 
 to obtain the best milk great care must be exercised 
 in the choice of pasture and the management of the 
 horses, as well as in all the minor details of prepara- 
 tion. 
 
 The milking-pails are of tin or of oak wood, and, 
 like the oaken kumys churn, have been boiled in 
 strong lye to extract the acid, and well dried and 
 aired. In addition to the daily washing they are 
 well smoked with rotten birch trunks, in order to de- 
 stroy all particles of kumys which may cling to them. 
 
 The next step after the milk is obtained is to fer- 
 ment it. The ferment, or yeast, is obtained by col- 
 lecting the sediment of the kumys which has already 
 germinated, and washing it off thoroughly with milk 
 or water. It is then pressed and dried in the sun, 
 the result being a reddish-brown mass composed of 
 the micro-organisms contained in kumys ferment, 
 casein, and a small quantity of fat. Twenty grains 
 of this yeast are ground up in a small quantity of 
 freshly drawn milk in a clean porcelain mortar, and 
 shaken in a quart bottle with one pound of fresh 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 303 
 
 milk, all mare's milk, naturally, after which it 
 is lightly corked with a bit of wadding and set away 
 in a temperature of -f- 22 to -+- 26 Rdaumur. In 
 about twenty-four hours small bubbles begin to make 
 their appearance, accompanied by the sour odor of 
 kumys. The bottle is then shaken from time to 
 time, and the air admitted, until it is in a condition 
 to be used as a ferment with fresh milk. Sometimes 
 this ferment fails, in which case an artificial ferment 
 is prepared. 
 
 One pint of ferment is allowed to every five pints 
 of fresh milk in the cask or churn, and the whole is 
 beaten with the dasher for about an hour, when it is 
 set aside in a temperature of -f- 18 to -f- 26 Retu- 
 rn ur. When, at the expiration of a few hours, the 
 milk turns sour and begins to ferment vigorousl} 7 , it is 
 beaten again several times for about fifteen minutes, 
 with intervals, with a dasher which terminates in a 
 perforated disk, after which it is left undisturbed for 
 several hours at the same temperature as before, until 
 the liquid begins to exhale an odor of spirits of wine. 
 The delicate offices of our Tatar beauty, the taster, 
 come in at this point to determine how much freshly 
 drawn and cooled milk is to be added in order rightly 
 to temper the sour taste. After standing over night 
 it is ready for use, and is put up in seltzer or cham- 
 pagne bottles, and kept at a temperature of -\- 8 to 
 -f- 12 Reaumur. At a lower temperature vinegar 
 fermentation sets in and spoils the kumys, while too 
 high a temperature brings about equally disastrous 
 results of another sort. Kumys has a different chem- 
 ical composition according to whether it has stood 
 only a few hours or several days, and consequently 
 its action differs, also. 
 
304 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 The weak kumys is ready for use at the expiration 
 of six hours after fermentation lias been excited in 
 the mare's milk, and must be put into the strongest 
 bottles. The medium quality is obtained after from 
 twelve to fourteen hours of fermentation, and, if well 
 corked, will keep two or three days in a cool atmos- 
 phere. The third and strongest quality is the pro- 
 duct of diligent daily churning during twenty-four 
 to thirty-six hours, and is thinner than the medium 
 quality, even watery. When bottled, it soon sepa- 
 rates into three layers, with the fatty particles on 
 top, the whey in the middle, and the casein at the 
 bottom. Strong kumys can be kept for a very long 
 time, but it must be shaken before it is used. It is 
 very easy for a person unaccustomed to kumys to 
 become intoxicated on this strong quality of milk 
 wine. 
 
 The nourishing effects of this spirituous beverage 
 are argued, primarily, from the example of the Bash- 
 kirs and the Kirghiz, who are gaunt and worn bv the 
 hunger and cold of winter, but who blossom into 
 rounded outlines and freshness of complexion three or 
 four days after the spring pasturage for their mares 
 begins. Some persons argue that life with these 
 Bashkirs and an exclusive diet of kumys will effect 
 a speedy cure of their ailments. Hence they join 
 one of the nomad hordes. This course, however, 
 not only deprives them of medical advice and the 
 comforts to which they have been accustomed, but 
 often gives them kumys which is difficult to take be- 
 cause of its rank taste and smell, due to the lack of 
 that scrupulous cleanliness which its proper prepara- 
 tion demands. 
 
 There are establishments near St. Petersburg and 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 305 
 
 Moscow where kumys may be obtained by those who 
 do not care to make the long journey to the steppe; 
 but the quality and chemical constituents are very 
 different from those of the steppe kumys, especially 
 at the best period, May and June, when the plume- 
 grass and wild strawberry are at their finest devel- 
 opment for food, and before the excessive heats of 
 midsummer have begun. 
 
 As I have said, when people wish to make the 
 cure on their own estates, the indispensable Tatar is 
 sent for, and the requisite number of middle-aged 
 mares, of which no work is required, are set aside 
 for the purpose. But from all I have heard, I am 
 inclined to think that benefit is rarely derived from 
 these private cures, and this for several reasons. Not 
 only is the kumys said to be inferior when prepared 
 in such small quantities, but no specialist or any 
 other doctor can be constantly on hand to regulate 
 the functional disorders which this diet frequently 
 occasions. Moreover, the air of the steppe plays an 
 important part in the cure. When a person drinks 
 from five to fifteen or more bottles a day, and some- 
 times adds the proper amount of fatty, starchy, and 
 saccharine elements, some other means than the stom- 
 ach are indispensable for disposing of the refuse. As 
 a matter of fact, in the hot, dry, even temperature 
 of the steppe, where patients are encouraged to re- 
 main out-of-doors all day and drink slowly, they 
 perspire kumys. When the system becomes thor- 
 oughly saturated with this food-drink, catarrh often 
 makes its appearance, but disappears at the close of 
 the cure. Colic, constipation, diarrhoaa, nose-bleed, 
 and bleeding from the lungs are also present at 
 times, as well as sleeplessness, toothache, and other 
 
306 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 disorders. The effects of kumys are considered of 
 especial value in cases of weak lungs, anaemia, general 
 debility caused by any wasting illness, ailments of 
 the digestive organs, and scurvy, for which it is taken 
 by many naval officers. 
 
 In short, although it is not a cure for all earthly 
 ills, it is of value in many which proceed from im- 
 perfect nutrition producing exhaustion of the patient. 
 There are some conditions of the lungs in which it 
 cannot be used, as well as in organic diseases of the 
 brain and heart, epilepsy, certain disorders of the 
 liver, and when gallstones are present. It is drunk 
 at the temperature of the air which surrounds the 
 patient, but must be warmed with hot water, not in 
 the sun, and sipped slowly, with pauses, not drunk 
 down in haste ; and generally exercise must be taken. 
 Turn where we would in those kumys establishments, 
 we encountered a patient engaged in assiduous prom- 
 enading, with a bottle of kumys suspended from his 
 arm and a glassful in his hand. 
 
 Coffee, chocolate, and wine are some of the luxu- 
 ries which must be renounced during a kumys cure, 
 and though black tea (occasionally with lemon) is 
 allowed, no milk or cream can be permitted to con- 
 tend with the action of the mare's milk unless by 
 express permission of the physician. " Cream ku- 
 mys," which is advertised as a delicacy in America, 
 is a contradiction in terms, it will be seen, as it is 
 made of cow's milk, and cream would be contrary to 
 the nature of kumys, even if the mare's milk pro- 
 duced anything which could rightly pass as such. 
 Pish and fruits are also forbidden, with the exception 
 of klubniki, which accord well with kumys. Klub- 
 nika is a berry similar to the strawberry in appear- 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 307 
 
 ance, but with an entirely different taste. Patients 
 \vho violate these dietary rules are said to suffer for 
 it, in which case there must have been a good deal 
 of agony inside the tall fence of our establishment, 
 judging by the thriving trade in fruits driven by the 
 old women, who did not confine themselves to the 
 outside of the gate, as the rules required, but slipped 
 past the porter and guardians to the house itself. 
 
 We found the kumys a very agreeable beverage, 
 and could readily perceive that the patients might 
 come to have a very strong taste for it. We even 
 sympathized with the thorough - going patient of 
 whom we were told that he set off regularly every 
 morning to lose himself for the day on the steppe, 
 armed with an umbrella against possible cooling 
 breezes, and with a basket containing sixteen bottles 
 of kumys, his allowance of food and medicine until 
 sundown. The programme consisted of a walk in 
 the sun, a drink, a walk, a drink, with umbrella in- 
 terludes, until darkness drove him home to bed and 
 to his base of supplies. 
 
 We did not remain long enough, or drink enough 
 kumys, to observe any particular effects on our own 
 persons. As I have said, we ate in town, chiefly, 
 after that breakfast of kumys-mare beefsteak and 
 potatoes of the size and consistency of bullets. 
 During our food and shopping excursions we found 
 that Samara was a decidedly wide-awake and driving 
 town, though it seemed to possess no specialties in 
 buildings, curiosities, or manufactures, and the statue 
 to Alexander II., which now adorns one of its 
 squares, was then swathed in canvas awaiting its 
 unveiling. It is merely a sort of grand junction, 
 through which other cities and provinces sift their 
 
308 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 products. In kumys alone does Samara possess a 
 characteristic unique throughout Russia. Conse- 
 quently, it is for kumys that multitudes of Russians 
 flock thither every spring. 
 
 The soil of the steppe, on which grows the nutri- 
 tious plume-grass requisite for the food of the kumys 
 mares, is very fertile, and immense crops of rye, 
 wheat, buckwheat, oats, and so forth are raised 
 whenever the rainfall is not too meagre. Unfortu- 
 nately, thie rainfall is frequently insufficient, and the 
 province of Samara often comes to the attention of 
 Russia, or even of the world, as during the dearth 
 in 1891, because of scarcity of food, or even famine, 
 which is no novelty in the government. In a dis- 
 trict where the average of rain is twenty inches, 
 there is not much margin of superfluity which can 
 be spared without peril. Wheat grows here better 
 than in the government just north of it, and many 
 peasants are attracted from the " black-bread gov- 
 ernments" to Samara by the white bread which is 
 there given them as rations when they hire out for 
 the harvest. 
 
 But such a singular combination of conditions pre- 
 vails there, as elsewhere in Russia, that an abundant 
 harvest is often more disastrous than a scanty liar- 
 vest. The price of grain falls so low that the cost 
 of gathering it is greater than the market value, and 
 it is often left to fall unreaped in the fields. When 
 the price falls very low, complaints arise that there 
 is no place to send it, since, when the ruble stands 
 high, as it invariably does at the prospect of large 
 crops, the demand from abroad is stopped. The 
 result is that those people who are situated near a 
 market sell as much grain and leave as little at home 
 
THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 309 
 
 as possible in order to meet their bills. The price 
 rises ; the unreaped surplus of the districts lying far 
 from markets cannot fill the ensuing demand. The 
 income from estates falls, and the discouraged own- 
 ers who have nothing to live on resolve to plant a 
 smaller area thereafter. Estates are mortgaged and 
 sold by auction ; prices are very low, and often there 
 are no buyers. 
 
 The immediate result of an over-abundant harvest 
 in far-off Samara is that the peasants who have 
 come hither to earn a little money at reaping return 
 home penniless, or worse, to their suffering families. 
 Some of them are legitimate seekers after work ; 
 that is to say, they have no grain of their own to 
 attend to, or they reap their own a little earlier or a 
 little later, and go away to earn the ready money to 
 meet taxes and indispensable expenditures of the 
 household, such as oil, and so on. " Pri khlySby bez 
 khlyeby " is their own way of expressing the situa- 
 tion, which we may translate freely as " starvation 
 in the midst of plenty." Thus the extremes of 
 famine-harvest and the harvest which is an embar- 
 rassment of riches are equally disastrous to the poor 
 peasant. 
 
 Samara offers a curious illustration of several agri- 
 cultural problems, and a proof of some peculiar par- 
 adoxes. The peasants of the neighboring govern- 
 ments, which are not populated to a particularly 
 dense degree, twenty male inhabitants to a square 
 verst (two thirds of a mile), and not all engaged in 
 agriculture, have long been accustomed to look 
 upon Samara as a sort of promised land. They still 
 regard it in that light, and endeavor to emigrate 
 thither, for the sake of obtaining grants of state land, 
 
310 THE RUSSIAN KUMYS CURE. 
 
 and certain immunities and privileges which are ac- 
 corded to colonists. This action is the result of the 
 paradox that overproduction exists hand in hand with 
 too small a parcel of land for each peasant ! 
 
 Volumes have been written, and more volumes 
 might still be written, on this subject. But I must 
 content myself here with saying that I believe there 
 is no province which illustrates so thoroughly all the 
 distressing features of these manifold and complicated 
 problems of colonization, of permanent settlements, 
 with the old evils of both landlords and peasants 
 cropping up afresh, abundant and scanty harvests 
 equally associated with famine, and all the troubles 
 which follow in their train, as Samara. Hence it is 
 that I can never recall the kumys, which is so inti- 
 mately connected with the name of Samara, without 
 also recalling the famine, which is, alas, almost as 
 intimately bound up with it. 
 
XII. 
 
 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 ST. PETERSBURG is handsome, grand, impressive. 
 Moscow is beautiful, poetic, sympathetic, and per- 
 vaded by an atmosphere of ancient Russia, which is 
 indescribable, though it penetrates to the marrow of 
 one's bones if he tarry long within her walls. Em- 
 peror Peter's new capital will not bear comparison, 
 for originalitj', individuality, and picturesqueness 
 with Tzar Peter's Heart of Holy Russia, to which 
 the heart of one who loves her must, perforce, often 
 return with longing in after days, " white-stoned 
 golden-domed, Holy Mother Moscow." 
 
 But a volume of guide-book details, highly colored 
 impressionist sketches, and dainty miniature painting 
 combined would not do justice to Moscow. There- 
 fore, I shall confine myself to a few random reminis- 
 cences which may serve to illustrate habits or traits 
 in the character of the city or the people. 
 
 " 'Eography," says Mrs. Booby, in one of the 
 famous old Russian comedies which we were so for- 
 tunate as to witness on the Moscow stage : " Ah ! 
 good heavens ! And what are cabmen for, then? 
 That 's their business. It 's not a genteel branch 
 of learning. A gentleman merely says : 4 Take me 
 to such or such a place,' and the cabman drives him 
 wherever he pleases." 
 
 Nowadays, it is advisable to be vulgar and know 
 
812 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 the geography of Moscow, if one is really enjoying 
 it independently. It is a trifle less complicated than 
 the geography of the Balkan Principalities, and, 
 unlike that of the Balkan Principalities, it has its 
 humorous side, which affords alleviation. The Mos- 
 cow cabby has now, as in the time of Mrs. Booby, 
 the reputation of being a very hard customer to deal 
 with. He is not often so ingenuous, even in appear- 
 ance, as the man who drove close to the sidewalk 
 and entreated our custom by warbling, sweetly : 
 " We must have work or we can't have bread." He 
 is only to be dreaded, however, if one be genteelly 
 ignorant, after Mrs. Booby's plan. I cannot say 
 that I ever had any difficulty in finding any place 
 I wanted, either with the aid (or hindrance) of an 
 izvtistchik, or on foot, in Moscow or other Russian 
 towns. But for this and other similar reasons I 
 acquired a nickname among the natives, molo- 
 dyetz, that is to say, a dashing, enterprising young 
 fellow, the feminine form of the word being non- 
 existent. A Russian view of the matter is amusing, 
 however. 
 
 " I never saw such a town in which to hunt up 
 any one," said a St. Petersburg man in Moscow to 
 me. " They give you an address : 4 Such and such 
 a street, such a house.' For instance, ' Green Street, 
 house of Mr. Black.' You go. First you get hold 
 of the street in general, and discover that the special 
 name applies only to one block or so, two or three 
 versts away from the part where you chance to have 
 landed. Moscow is even more a city of magnificent 
 distances, you know, than St. Petersburg. Next 
 you discover that there is no ' house of Mr. Black.' 
 Mr. Black died, respected and beloved, God be with 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 313 
 
 him ! a hundred years ago or less, and the house 
 has changed owners three times since. So far, it is 
 tolerably plain sailing. Then it appears that the 
 house you are in search of is not in the street at all, 
 but tucked in behind it, on a parallel lane, round 
 several corners and elbows." (I will explain, in 
 parenthesis, that the old system of designating a 
 house by the name of the owner, which prevailed 
 before the introduction of numbers, still survives 
 extensively, even in Petersburg.) 
 
 " The next time you set out on a search expedi- 
 tion," continued my informant, after a cup of tea 
 and a cigarette to subdue his emotions, " you insist 
 on having the number of the house. Do you get it ? 
 Oh yes ! and with a safeguard added, ' Inquire of the 
 laundress.' [This was a parody on, " Inquire of the 
 Swiss," or " of the yard-porter."] You start off in 
 high feather ; number and guide are provided, only a 
 fool could fail to find it, and you know that you are 
 a person who is considered rather above the average 
 in cleverness. But that is in Petersburg, and I may 
 as well tell you at on.ce that clever Petersburgers are 
 fools compared to the Moscow men, in a good many 
 points, such as driving a hard bargain. Well, sup- 
 pose that the house you want is No. 29. You find 
 No. 27 or No. 28, and begin to crow over your clever- 
 ness. But the next house on one side is No. 319, 
 and the house on the other side is No. 15 ; the one 
 opposite is No. 211, or No. 7, or something idiotic 
 like that, and all because the city authorities permit 
 people to retain the old district number of the house, 
 to affix the new street number, or to post up both 
 at their own sweet will ! As you cannot find the laun- 
 dress to question, under the circumstances, you in- 
 
314 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 terview every Swiss [hall-porter], yard-porter, police- 
 man, and peasant for a verst round about ; and all 
 the satisfaction you get is, 4 In whose house? That 
 is Mr. Green's and this is Mr. Bareboaster's, and 
 yonder are Count Thingumbob's and Prince What- 
 youmaycall's.' So you retreat once more, baffled." 
 Fortifying himself with more tea and cigarettes, the 
 victim of Moscow went on : 
 
 " But there is still another plan. [A groan.] The 
 favorite way to give an address is, 4 In the parish 
 of Saint So-and-So.' It does n't pin you down to 
 any special house, street, or number, which is, of 
 course, a decided advantage when you are hunting 
 for a needle in a haystack. And the Moscow saints 
 and parishes have such names ! " Here the narra- 
 tor's feelings overcame him, and when I asked for 
 some of the parochial titles he was too limp to reply. 
 
 I had already noticed the peculiar designations of 
 many churches, and had begun to suspect myself of 
 stupidity or my cabman and other informants of ma- 
 licious jesting. Now, however, I investigated the 
 subject, and made a collection of specimens. These 
 extraordinary names are all derived with one or 
 two exceptions for which I can find no explanation 
 from the peculiarities of the soil in the parish, the 
 former use to which the site of the church was put, 
 or the avocations of the inhabitants of its neighbor- 
 hood in the olden times, when most of the space out- 
 side of the Kremlin and China Town was devoted to 
 the purveyors and servants of the Tzars of Muscovy. 
 
 St. Nicholas, a very popular saint, heads the list, 
 as usual. "St. Nicholas on Chips" occupies the 
 spot where a woodyard stood. "St. Nicholas on 
 the Well," "St. Nicholas Fine Chime," are easily 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 315 
 
 understood. " St. Nicholas White-Collar " is in the 
 ancient district of the court laundresses. " St. 
 Nicholas in the Bell-Ringers " is comprehensible ; 
 but " St. Nicholas the Blockhead " is so called be- 
 cause in this quarter dwelt the imperial hatmakers, 
 who prepared " blockheads " for shaping their wares. 
 44 St. Nicholas Louse's Misery " is, probably, a cor- 
 ruption of two somewhat similar words meaning 
 Muddy Hill. " St. Nicholas on Chickens' Legs " 
 belonged to the poulterers, and was so named be- 
 cause it was raised from the ground on supports 
 resembling stilts. 44 St. Nicholas of the Interpret- 
 ers " is in the quarter where the Court interpreters 
 lived, and where the Tatar mosque now stands. 
 Then we have : " The Life-Giving Trinity in the 
 Mud," "St. John the Warrior" and "St. John the 
 Theologian in the Armory," 44 The Birth of Christ on 
 Broadswords," " St. George the Martyr in the Old 
 Jails," " The Nine Holy Martyrs on Cabbage-Stalks," 
 on the site of a former market garden, and the inex- 
 plicable 44 Church of the Resurrection on the Mar- 
 mot," besides many others, some of which, I was 
 told, bear quite unrepeatable names, probably per- 
 verted, like the last and like " St. Nicholas Louse's 
 Misery," from words having originally some slight 
 resemblance in sound, but which are now unrecog- 
 nizable. 
 
 Great stress is laid, in hasty books of travel, on 
 the contrasts presented by the Moscow streets, the 
 44 palace of a prince standing by the side of the 
 squalid log hut of a peasant," and so forth. That 
 may, perhaps, have been true of the Moscow of 
 twenty or thirty years ago. In very few quarters is 
 there even a semblance of truth in that description 
 
316 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 at the present day. The clusters of Irish hovels in 
 upper New York among the towering new buildings 
 are much more picturesque and noticeable. The 
 most characteristic part of the town, as to domestic 
 architecture, the part to which the old statements are 
 most applicable, lies between the two lines of boule- 
 vards, which are, in themselves, good places to study 
 some Russian tastes. For example, a line of open 
 horse-cars is run all winter on the outer boulevard, 
 and appreciated. Another line has the centre of its 
 cars inclosed, and uninclosed seats at the ends. The 
 latter are the most popular, at the same price, and 
 as for heating a street-car, the idea could never be 
 got into a Russian brain. A certain section of the 
 inner boulevard, which forms a sort of slightly ele- 
 vated garden, is not only a favorite resort in summer, 
 but is thronged every winter afternoon with people 
 promenading or sitting under the snow-powdered 
 trees in an arctic fairyland, while the mercury in 
 the thermometer is at a very low ebb indeed. It is 
 fashionable in Russia to grumble at the cold, but un- 
 fashionable to convert the grumbling into action. 
 On the contrary, they really enjoy sitting for five 
 hours at a stretch, in a temperature of 25 below 
 zero, to watch the fascinating horse races on the ice. 
 In the districts between the boulevards, one can get 
 an idea of the town as it used to be. In this " Earth 
 Town " typical streets are still to be found, but the 
 chances are greatly against a traveler finding them. 
 They are alleys in width and irregularity, paved 
 with cobblestones which seem to have been selected 
 for their angles, and with intermittent sidewalks con- 
 sisting of narrow, carelessly joined flagstones. The 
 front steps of the more pretentious houses must be 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 317 
 
 skirted or mounted, the street must be crossed when 
 the family carriage stands at the door, like the most 
 characteristic streets in Nantucket. Some of the 
 doorplates which are large squares of tin fastened 
 over the porte cochere, or on the gate of the court- 
 yard bear titles. Next door, perhaps, stands a 
 log house, flush with the sidewalk, its moss calking 
 plainly visible between the huge ribs, its steeply 
 sloping roof rising, almost within reach, above a 
 single story ; and its serpent-mouthed eave-spouts 
 ingeniously arranged to pour a stream of water over 
 the vulgar pedestrian. The windows, on a level 
 with the eyes of the passer-by, are draped with cheap 
 lace curtains. The broad expanse of cotton wadding 
 between the double windows is decorated, in mid- 
 dle-class taste, with tufts of dyed grasses, colored 
 paper, and other execrable ornaments. Here, as 
 everywhere else in Moscow, one can never get out of 
 eye-shot of several churches ; white with brilliant ex- 
 ternal frescoes, or the favorite mixture of crushed 
 strawberry and white, all with green roofs and sur- 
 mounted with domes of ever-varying and original 
 forms and colors, crowned with golden crosses of 
 elaborate and beautiful designs. Ask a resident, 
 whether prince or peasant, " How many churches 
 are there in ' Holy Moscow town ' ? " The answer 
 invariably is, "Who knows? A forty of forties," 
 which is the old equivalent, in the Epic Songs, of in- 
 calculable numbers. After a while one really begins 
 to feel that sixteen hundred is not an exaggerated 
 estimate. 
 
 Very few of the streets in any part of the town 
 are broad ; all of them seem like lanes to a Peters- 
 burger, and "they are forever going up and down," 
 
318 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 as a Petersburg cabman described the Moscow hills to 
 me, in serious disapproval. He had found the ground 
 too excitingly uneven and the inhabitants too evenly 
 dull to live with for more than a fortnight, he con- 
 fessed to me. Many of the old mansions in the 
 centre of the town have been converted into shops, 
 offices, and lodgings ; and huge, modern business 
 buildings have taken the places formerly occupied, I 
 presume, by the picturesque " hovels " of the trav- 
 elers' tales. 
 
 One of the most interesting places in the White 
 Town to me was the huge foundling asylum, estab- 
 lished by Katherine II., immediately after her acces- 
 sion to the throne. There are other institutions 
 connected with it, such as a school for orphan girls. 
 But the hospital for the babies is the centre of in- 
 terest. There are about six hundred nurses always 
 on hand. Very few of them have more than one 
 nursling to care for, and a number of babies who 
 enter life below par, so to speak, are accommodated 
 with incubators. The nurses stand in battalions in 
 the various large halls, all clad alike, with the excep- 
 tion of the woolen kokdshnik, the coronet-shaped 
 headdress with its cap for the hair, which is of a 
 different color in each room. It requires cords of 
 "cartwheels" the big round loaves of black bread 
 to feed this army of nurses. If they are not fed 
 on their ordinary peasant food, cabbage soup and 
 sour black bread, they fall ill and the babies suffer, 
 as no bottles are used. 
 
 The fact that the babies are washed every day was 
 impressed on my mind by the behavior of the little 
 creatures while undergoing the operation. They pro- 
 tested a little in gentle squeaks when the water 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 319 
 
 touched them, but quieted down instantly when they 
 were wiped. It is my belief that Russian children 
 never cry except during their bath. I heard no in- 
 fantile wailing except in this asylum, and very little 
 there. Many Russian mothers of all ranks still tie 
 up their babies tightly in swaddling clothes, on the 
 old-fashioned theory that it makes their limbs straight. 
 But these foundlings are not swaddled. After its 
 bath, the baby is laid on a fresh, warm, linen cloth, 
 which is then wrapped around it in a particular man- 
 ner, so that it is securely fastened without the use of 
 a single pin. Two other cloths, similarly wrapped, 
 complete the simple, comfortable toilet. This and 
 another Russian habit, that of allowing a baby to 
 kick about in its crib clad only in its birthday suit, 
 I commend to the consideration of American mothers. 
 The last thing in the asylum which is shown to 
 visitors is the manner in which the babies are re- 
 ceived, washed, weighed, and numbered. It was early 
 in December when I was there, but the numbers on 
 the ivory disks suspended from the new arrivals' 
 necks were a good many hundred above seventeen 
 thousand. As they begin each year with No. 1, I 
 think the whole number of foundlings for that par- 
 ticular year must have been between eighteen and 
 nineteen thousand. The children are put out to 
 board, after a short stay at the asylum, in peasant 
 families, which receive a small sum per month for 
 taking care of them. When the boys grow up they 
 count as members of the family in a question of 
 army service, and the sons of the family can escape 
 their turn, I was told, if matters are rightly managed. 
 The girls become uniformed servants in the govern- 
 ment institutions for the education of girls of the 
 higher classes, or marry peasants. 
 
320 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 The most famous of the gates which lead from the 
 White Town through the white, machicolated walls 
 into China Town 1 is the Iversky, or gate of the 
 Iberian Virgin. The gate has two entrances, and 
 between these tower-crowned openings stands a chapel 
 of malachite and marble, gilded bronze and painting. 
 The Iversky Virgin who inhabits the chapel, though 
 " wonder-working," is only a copy of -one in the mon- 
 astery on Mount Athos. She was brought to Russia 
 in 1666, and this particular chapel was built for her 
 by Katherine II. Her garment and crown of gold 
 weigh between twenty-seven and twenty-eight pounds, 
 and are studded with splendid jewels. But the Vir- 
 gin whom one sees in the chapel is not even this 
 copy, but a copy of the copy. The original Virgin, 
 as we may call the first copy for convenience, is in 
 such great demand for visits to convents and mon- 
 asteries, to private houses and the shops of wealthy 
 and devout merchants, that she is never at home from 
 early morn till late at night, and the second copy 
 represents her to the thousands of prayerful people 
 of all classes, literally, who stop to place a candle or 
 utter a petition. The original Virgin travels about 
 the town, meanwhile, in a blue coach adorned with 
 her special device, like a coat of arms, and drawn by 
 six horses; and the persons whom she honors with a 
 visit offer liberal gifts. The heads of her coachman, 
 postilions, and footman are supposed to be respect- 
 fully bared in all weathers, but when it is very cold 
 
 1 Ancient Moscow, lying in a walled semicircle just outside the 
 walls of the Kremlin. All the trading was done on the " Red Square," 
 where the Gostinny Dvor now stands, and all Oriental merchants 
 were known by the common designation of " Chinese/' At the pres- 
 ent day " Chinese " has been replaced by " German," to designate 
 foreigners in general. 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 321 
 
 these men wind woolen shawls, of the nondescript, 
 dirt color, which characterizes the hair of most peas- 
 ants, adroitly round their heads, allowing the fringe 
 to hang and simulate long locks. The large image 
 of the Virgin, in its massive frame, occupies the 
 seat of honor. A priest and a deacon, clad in crim- 
 son velvet and gold vestments, their heads unpro- 
 tected, even in the most severe weather, by anything 
 but their own thick hair, sit respectfully with their 
 backs to the horses. When the Virgin drives along, 
 passers-by pause, salute, and cross themselves. Evi- 
 dently, under these circumstances, it is difficult for 
 a foreigner to get a view of the original Virgin. 
 We were fortunate, however. Our first invitation 
 in Moscow was from the Abbess of an important con- 
 vent to be present at one of the services which I have 
 mentioned, a sort of invocation of the Virgin's 
 blessing, in her cell, and at the conclusion of the 
 service we were asked if we would not like to " salute 
 the Virgin " and take a sip of the holy water " for 
 health." Of course we did both, as courtesy de- 
 manded. Some time after that, as we were driving 
 along the principal street of China Town, I saw an 
 imposing equipage approaching, and remarked, " Here 
 comes the Iversky Virgin." 
 
 " Excuse me, madam," said my cabman, I had 
 not addressed him, but as I had spoken involuntarily 
 in Russian he thought I had, " it is not the Vir- 
 gin, it is only the Saviour. Don't you see that there 
 are only four horses ? " 
 
 " Very true ; and St. Sergius drives with three, 
 and St. Pantaleimon with two, do they not? Tell 
 me, which of them all would you ask to visit you, 
 if you wished a blessing ? " 
 
322 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 " St. Pantaleimon is a good, all-round saint, who 
 helps well in most cases," he replied thoughtfully. 
 This seemed a good opportunity to get a popular 
 explanation of a point which had puzzled me. 
 
 " Which," I asked, " is the real miraculous Iversky 
 Virgin ? the one in the chapel, the one who rides 
 in the carriage, or the original on Mount Athos?" 
 
 " It is plain that you don't understand in the 
 least," answered my izvtistchik, turning round in his 
 seat and imperiling our lives by his driving, while 
 he plunged into the subject with profound earnest- 
 ness. " None of them is the Virgin, and all of them 
 are the Virgin. All the different Virgins are merely 
 different manifestations of the Virgin to men. The 
 Virgin herself is in heaven, and communicates her 
 power where she wills. It is like the Life-giving 
 Trinity." Assuming that as a foreigner, and conse- 
 quently a heretic, I did not understand the doctrine 
 of the Trinity, he proceeded to expound it, and did 
 it extremely well. I lent half an ear in amazement 
 to him, and half an ear I reserved for the objurga- 
 tions of the drivers who were so good as to spare our 
 lives in that crowded thoroughfare while my theo- 
 logical lesson was in progress. 
 
 While I am speaking of this unusual cabman, I 
 may mention some unusual private coachmen in 
 Moscow who use their masters' sledges and carriages 
 for public conveyances while their owners are safely 
 engaged in theatre or restaurant. I do not think 
 that trick could be played in Petersburg. I found 
 it out by receiving an amazingly reasonable offer 
 from a very well-dressed man with a superb gray 
 horse and a fine sledge. As we dashed along at 
 lightning speed, I asked the man whether he owned 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 323 
 
 that fine turnout or worked on wages. " I own it 
 myself," lie said curtly. Therefore, when I alighted, 
 I slipped round behind the sledge and scrutinized it 
 thoroughly under the gaslight. The back was dec- 
 orated with a monogram and a count's coronet in 
 silver! After that I never asked questions, but I 
 always knew what had happened when I picked up 
 very comfortable equipages at very reasonable rates 
 in places which were between gas lanterns and near 
 theatres and so forth. 
 
 I should not be doing my duty by a very important 
 factor in Russian life if I omitted an illustration of 
 the all-pervading influence of " official " rank, and 
 the prestige which acquaintance with officialdom lends 
 even to modest travelers like ourselves. It was, most 
 appropriately, in the Kremlin, the heart of Russia, 
 that we were favored with the most amusing of the 
 many manifestations of it which came within our 
 experience. We were looking at the objects of 
 interest in the Treasury, when I noticed a large, 
 handsomely bound book, flanked by pen and ink, on 
 a side table. I opened the book, but before I could 
 read a word an attendant pounced upon me. 
 
 " Don't touch that," he said peremptorily. 
 
 " Why not ? If you do not wish people to look 
 at this collection of ancient documents, I suppose 
 that is what it is, you should lock it up, or label 
 it 4 Hands off ! ' " 
 
 " It is n't ancient documents, and you are not to 
 touch it," he said, taking the book out of my hands. 
 " It is strictly reserved for the signatures of distin- 
 guished visitors, crowned heads, royal princes, am- 
 bassadors, and the like." 
 
 " Then it does not interest me in the least, and if 
 
324 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 you would label it to that effect, no one would care 
 to disturb it," I said. 
 
 Very soon afterwards we were joined by one of the 
 powerful officials of the Kremlin. He had made an 
 appointment to show us about, but was detained for 
 a few moments, and we had come on alone and were 
 waiting for him. As we went about with him the 
 attendants hovered respectfully in the rear, evidently 
 much impressed with the friendly, unofficial tone of 
 the conversation. When we had made the round 
 with much deliberation, we excused our official friend 
 to his duties, saying that we wished to take another 
 look at several objects. 
 
 No sooner was he gone than the guardian of the 
 autograph album pounced upon us again, and invited 
 us to add our " illustrious " names to the list. I re- 
 fused ; he entreated and argued. It ended in his 
 fairly dragging us to the table and standing guard 
 over us while we signed the sacred book. I did not 
 condescend to examine the book, though I should 
 have been permitted then ; but I know which three 
 royal princes immediately preceded us. 
 
 As I am very much attached to the Russian Church, 
 anything connected with it always interested me 
 deeply. One of the prominent features of Moscow 
 is the number of monasteries and convents. The 
 Russian idea of monastic life is prayer and contem- 
 plation, not activity in good works. The ideal of 
 devout secular life is much the same. To meet the 
 wants in that direction of people who do not care to 
 join the community, many of the convents have small 
 houses within their inclosures, which they let out to 
 applicants, of whom there is always an abundance. 
 The occupants of these houses are under no restric- 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 325 
 
 tions whatever, except as to observing the hours of 
 entry and exit fixed by the opening and closing of 
 the convent gates ; but, naturally, it is rather expected 
 of them that they will attend more church services 
 than the busy people of " the world." The sight of 
 these little houses always oppressed me with a sense 
 of my inferiority in the matter of devoutness. I 
 could not imagine myself living in one of them, until 
 I came across a group of their occupants engaged in 
 discussing some racy gossip with the nuns on one of 
 the doorsteps. Gossip is not my besetting weakness, 
 but I felt relieved. Convents are not aristocratic 
 institutions in Russia as they are in Roman Catholic 
 countries, and very few ladies by birth and education 
 enter them. Those who do are apt to rise to the 
 post of abbess, influential connections not being su- 
 perfluous in any calling in Russia any more than in 
 other countries. 
 
 If I were a nun I should prefer activity. I think 
 that contemplation, except in small doses, is calcu- 
 lated to produce stupidity. Illustration : I was pass- 
 ing along a street in Moscow when my eye fell upon 
 an elderly nun seated at the gate of a convent, with 
 a little table whereon stood a lighted taper. Beside 
 the taper, on a threadbare piece of black velvet, dec- 
 orated with the customary cross in gold braid, lay a 
 few copper coins before a dark and ancient ik6na. 
 Evidently, the public was solicited to contribute in 
 the name of the saint there portrayed, though I could 
 not recollect that the day was devoted to a saint of 
 sufficient importance to warrant the intrusion of that 
 table on the narrow sidewalk. I halted and asked 
 the nun what day it was, and who was the saint de- 
 picted in the image. She said she did not know. 
 
326 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 This seemed incredible, and I persisted in my in- 
 quiry. She called a policeman from the middle of 
 the street, where he was regulating traffic as usual, 
 and asked him about the ik6na and the day, with the 
 air of a helpless child. Church and State set to 
 work guessing with great heartiness and good-will, 
 but so awkwardly that it was the easiest thing in the 
 world for me to refute each successive guess. When 
 we tired of that, I gave the nun a kopek for the 
 entertainment she had unconsciously afforded, and 
 thanked the policeman, after which the policeman and 
 I left the good nun sitting stolidly at the receipt of 
 custom. 
 
 Quite at the opposite pole was my experience one 
 hot summer day in the Cathedral of the Assump- 
 tion, where the emperors have been crowned for cen- 
 turies; or, to speak more accurately, the two poles 
 met and embraced in that church, the heart of the 
 heart of Holy Russia. The early Patriarchs and 
 Metropolitans are buried in this cathedral in superb 
 silver-gilt coffins. Of these, the tomb and shrine of 
 Metropolitan Jona seems to be the goal of the most 
 numerous pilgrimages. I stood near it, in the rear 
 corner of the church, one Sunday morning, while mass 
 was in progress. An unbroken stream of people, 
 probably all of them pilgrims to the Holy City, her 
 saints and shrines, passed me, crossed themselves, 
 knelt in a "ground reverence," kissed the saint's 
 coffin, then the hand of the priest, who stood by to 
 preserve order and bless each person as he or she 
 turned away. To my surprise, I heard many of them 
 inquire the name of the shrine's occupant after they 
 had finished their prayers. After the service and a 
 little chat with this priest, who seemed a very sen- 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 327 
 
 sible man, we went forward to take another look at 
 the Vladimir Virgin, the most famous and histori- 
 cal in all Russia, in her golden case. A gray-haired 
 old army colonel, who wore the Vladimir cross, per- 
 ceiving from our speech that we were foreigners, 
 politely began to explain to us the noteworthy points 
 about the church and the Virgin. It soon appeared, 
 however, that we were far more familiar with them 
 all than he was, and we fell into conversation. 
 
 44 I am stationed in Poland," he said, " and I have 
 never been in Moscow before. I am come on a pil- 
 grimage to the Holy City, but everything is so dear 
 here that I must deny myself the pleasure of visit- 
 ing many of the shrines in the neighborhood. It is a 
 great happiness to me to be present thus at the mass 
 in my own pravosldvny church, and in Moscow." 
 
 " But there are Orthodox churches in Poland, 
 surely," I said. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " there are a few ; and I go 
 whenever I get a chance." 
 
 " What do you do when you have not the 
 chance ? " 
 
 " I go to whatever church there is, the Roman 
 Catholic, the Lutheran, the Synagogue." 
 
 " Is that allowed ? " I asked. I knew very well 
 that Russians attend Roman Catholic and Protestant 
 churches when abroad, as a matter of course, though 
 I had not before heard of the Synagogue in the list, 
 and I wished to hear what the earnest old colonel 
 would say. 
 
 44 Why not ? why should n't I ? " he replied. " We 
 all go to church to worship God and to pray to Him. 
 Does it matter about the form or the language ? A 
 man has as much as he can do to be a Christian and 
 
328 MOSCOW MEMORIES. 
 
 an honest man, which are two very different things 
 nowadays, apparently, without troubling himself 
 about those petty details." 
 
 It is almost superfluous to say that we swore friend- 
 ship with the colonel on the spot, on those founda- 
 tions. Our acquaintance ended with our long talk 
 there in the cathedral, since we could not well stop 
 in Poland to accept the delightful old officer's invi- 
 tation to visit him and his wife. But the friendship 
 remains, I hope. 
 
 When he left us, a young fellow about seventeen 
 years of age, who had been standing near us and lis- 
 tening to the last part of our conversation with an 
 air of profound and respectful interest which obviated 
 all tracje of impertinence, stepped up and said : 
 
 " May I have the pleasure of showing you about 
 the cathedral ? You seem to appreciate our Russian 
 ways and thoughts. I have taken a good deal of 
 interest in studying the history and antiquities of my 
 native city, and I may be able to point out a few 
 things to you here." 
 
 He was a pleasant-faced young fellow, with mod- 
 est, engaging manners; a student in one of the gov- 
 ernment institutions, it appeared. He looked very 
 cool and comfortable in a suit of coarse gray linen. 
 He proved to be an admirable cicerone, and we let 
 him escort us about for the pleasure of listening, 
 though we had seen everything many times already. 
 I commented on his knowledge, and on the evident 
 pride which he took in his country, and especially 
 in his church, remarking that he seemed to be very 
 well informed on many points concerning the latter, 
 and able to explain the reasons for things in an un- 
 usual way. 
 
MOSCOW MEMORIES. 329 
 
 " Yt-s," be answered, " I am proud and fond of my 
 country and my church. We Russians do not study 
 them as we should, I am ashamed to say. There, 
 for instance, is my cousin, Princess , who is con- 
 sidered a very well-informed young woman on all 
 necessary points. She was to make her communion, 
 and so some one brought her to the church while the 
 Hours were being read, as is proper, though she 
 usually comes very much later. She had not been 
 there ten minutes before she began to ask : ' When 
 does the Sacrament come ? Is n't it pretty soon ? ' 
 and she kept that up at short intervals, despite all I 
 could do to stop her. I am quite sure," he added, 
 " that I need not explain to you, though you are a 
 foreigner, where the Hours and the Sacrament come 
 in the service ? " 
 
 " No : the Hours precede the Liturgy, and the 
 administration of the Sacrament comes very nearly 
 at the end of all." 
 
 " Exactly. You understand what a disgrace such 
 ignorance was on my cousin's part." 
 
 He was charming, amusingly frank on many 
 points which I had supposed to be rather delicate 
 with members of the "Orthodox" (as I must call 
 it for the lack of a possible English equivalent for 
 pravosldvny) Russian Church, but so well-bred and 
 intelligent, withal, that we were sincerely sorry to say 
 good-by to him at the door of our hotel. 
 
XIII. 
 
 THE NIZHNI NdVGOKOD FAIR AND THE VOLGA. 
 
 THE most picturesque and appropriate way of 
 reaching Nizhni Novgorod is by the Volga, with 
 which its life is so intimately connected, and the 
 most characteristic time to see the Volga steamers is 
 on the way upstream during the Fair. 
 
 What an assortment of people we had on board ! 
 To begin with, our boat was commanded by a Vice- 
 Admiral in full uniform. His family was with him, 
 spending the summer on board sailing up and down 
 the river between Nizhni Novgorod and Astrakhan. 
 
 The passengers over whom the vice-admiral ruled 
 were delightfully varied. There were Russians from 
 every quarter of the empire, and of as many races, 
 including Armenians. One of the latter, an old man 
 with a physiognomy not to be distinguished, even by 
 our Russian friends who were traveling with us, from 
 that of a Jew, seemed to take no interest in anything 
 except in telling over a short rosary of amber beads, 
 and standing guard at all stopping-places over his 
 cabin, which he was determined to occupy alone, 
 though he had paid but one fare. After he had done 
 this successfully at several landing-places and had 
 consigned several men to the second cabin, an ener- 
 getic man appealed to the admiral. It required some 
 vigorous language and a threat to break open the 
 door if the key were not forthcoming, before the 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 331 
 
 admiral could overcome the resistance of the obsti- 
 nate old Armenian, who protested, in very bad Rus- 
 sian, that he was very ill indeed, and should cer- 
 tainly die if any one entered his cabin. He was still 
 alive when we reached the end of our voyage, and had 
 cleverly made his cabin-mate pay for all his food. 
 
 Among the second-class passengers was a party 
 of students returning to the University of Kazan. 
 They exhibited all degrees of shabbiness, but this 
 was only the modest plumage of the nightingale, 
 apparently. For hours they sang songs, all beauti- 
 ful, all strange to us, and we listened entranced 
 until tea, cigarettes, and songs came to an end in 
 time to permit them a few hours of sleep before we 
 reached their landing. The third-class passengers, 
 who were also lodged on the upper deck, aft, in- 
 cluded Tatars and other Mohammedans from the 
 Orient, who spread their prayer-rugs at sundown 
 and went through their complicated devotions with 
 an air of being quite oblivious to spectators. Sev- 
 eral got permission from the admiral to ascend to 
 the hurricane deck. But this, while unnecessary as 
 a precaution against crowding or interference from 
 their numerous Russian fellow-passengers, rendered 
 them more conspicuous ; and even this was not suffi- 
 cient to make the instinctively courteous Russians 
 stare at or notice them. 
 
 The fourth-class passengers were on the lower 
 deck. Among them was a company of soldiers in 
 very shabby uniforms, who had been far down the 
 river earning a little money by working in the har- 
 vest fields, where hands are always too few, and who 
 were returning to garrison at Kazan. Some enter- 
 prising passengers from Astrakhan had laid in a 
 
332 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 large stock of the delicious round watermelons and 
 luscious cantaloupe melons. By the time we reached 
 Kazan, there were not many melons left in that 
 improvised shop on the lower deck. Russians are 
 as fond of watermelons as are the American negroes. 
 
 At Samara we had seen enormous bales of camel's- 
 hair, weighing upwards of eight hundred pounds, 
 in picturesque mats of red, yellow, and brown, taken 
 on board for the Fair. The porters seemed to find 
 it easy to carry them on their backs, aided only by a 
 sort of small chair-back, with a narrow, seat-like 
 projection at the lower end, which was fastened 
 by straps passing over the shoulders and under the 
 arms. When we left Kazan, I noticed that a huge 
 open barge was being towed upstream alongside us, 
 that it was being filled with these bales, to lighten 
 the steamer for the sand-bars and shallows of the 
 upper river, and that a monotonous but very musical 
 cadence was being repeated at intervals, in muffled 
 tones, somewhere on board. I went down to the 
 cargo department of the lower deck and found the 
 singers, the herculean porters. One after another 
 they bent their backs, and two mates hoisted the 
 huge bales, chanting a refrain which enabled them 
 to move and lift in unison. The words were to the 
 following effect : " If all don't grasp together, we 
 cannot lift the weight." The music was sad, but 
 irresistibly sweet and fascinating, and I stood listen- 
 ing and watching until the great barge was filled 
 and dropped behind, for the company's tug to pick 
 up and tow to Nizhni with a string of other barges. 
 
 It is probably a vulgar detail, but I must chronicle 
 the fact that the cooking on these Volga steamers 
 on the line we patronized, at least is among the 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 333 
 
 very best to be found in Russia, in my experience. 
 On the voyage upstream, when they are well sup- 
 plied with sterlet and other fish, all alive, from As- 
 trakhan, the dinners are treats for which one may 
 sigh in vain in the capitals of St. Petersburg and 
 Moscow, with their mongrel German -French -Rus- 
 sian cookery. The dishes are very Russian, but they 
 are very good. 
 
 I remember one particularly delicious concoction 
 was composed of fresh sterlet and sour cabbage, with 
 white grapes on top, baked to a brown crispness. 
 
 We arrived at our wharf on the Volga front of the 
 old town of Nizhni Novgorod about five o'clock in 
 the afternoon. Above us rose the steep green hills 
 on whose crest stood the Kremlin, containing several 
 ancient churches, the governor's house, and so forth. 
 On a lower terrace, to right and left, stood monas- 
 teries and churches intermingled with shops and 
 mediocre dwellings. The only noteworthy church 
 was that in front of us, with its picturesque but 
 un-Russian rococo plaster decoration on red brick, 
 crowned by genuine Russian domes and crosses of 
 elaborately beautiful patterns. 
 
 But we did not pause long to admire this part of 
 the view, which was already familiar to us. What 
 a change had come over the scene since we had 
 bidden it farewell on our way downstream ! Then 
 everything was dead, or slumbering, except the old 
 town, the city proper ; and that had not seemed to 
 be any too much awake or alive. The Fair town, 
 situated on the sand-spit between the Volga and the 
 mouth of the Okd, stood locked up and deserted, as 
 it had stood since the close of last year's Fair. Now, 
 as we gazed over the prow of the steamer, we could 
 
334 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 see the bridge across the Oka black with the swarm- 
 ing masses of pedestrians and equipages. 
 
 The steamer company allows its patrons to sleep 
 (but not to eat) on board the night after arrival and 
 the night before starting, and we availed ourselves of 
 the privilege, having heard that it was often no easy 
 matter to secure accommodations in the Fair, and 
 having no intention of returning to our former hotel, 
 miles from all the fun, in the upper town, if we could 
 help it. 
 
 The only vacant rooms in the Fair seemed to be 
 at the "best hotel," to which we had been recom- 
 mended, with a smile of amusement which had puz- 
 zled us, by a Moscow friend, an officer in the army. 
 Prices were very high at this hotel, which, like Amer- 
 ican summer hotels, is forced to make its hay for 
 the year during the season of six weeks, after which 
 it is locked up. Our room was small; the floor, of 
 rough boards, was bare ; the beds were not comfort- 
 able. For the same price, in Petersburg or Moscow, 
 we should have had a spacious room on the bel gtage, 
 handsomely furnished, with rugs on an inlaid floor. 
 
 Across one corner of the dining-room was built a 
 low platform, on which stood a piano. We soon dis- 
 covered its use. Coming in about nine o'clock in the 
 evening, we ordered our samovar for tea in the din- 
 ing-room, a most unusual place. The proper place 
 was our own room. But we had found a peculiar 
 code of etiquette prevailing -here, governed by exces- 
 sive modesty and propriety, no doubt, but an ob- 
 structionist etiquette, nevertheless. The hall-waiter, 
 whose business it is to serve the samovar and coffee, 
 was not allowed to enter our room, though his fellows 
 had served us throughout the country, after the fash- 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 335 
 
 ion of the land. Here we were compelled to wait 
 upon the leisure of the chambermaid, a busy and 
 capricious person, who would certainly not be on 
 hand in the evening if she was not in the morning. 
 Accordingly, we ordered our tea in the dining-room, 
 as I have said. Presently, a chorus of girls, dressed 
 all alike, mounted the platform, and sang three 
 songs to an accompaniment banged upon the piano 
 by a man. Being violently applauded by a long 
 table-full of young merchants who sat near, at whom 
 they had been singing and staring, without any at- 
 tempt at disguise, and with whom they had even 
 been exchanging remarks, they sang two songs more. 
 They were followed by another set of girls, also in a 
 sort of uniform costume, who sang five songs at the 
 young merchants. It appeared that one party was 
 called " Russian singers," and the other " German 
 singers." We found out afterwards, by watching 
 operations on another evening, that these five songs 
 formed the extent of their respective repertories. 
 
 A woman about forty-five years of age accom- 
 panied them into the room, then planted herself 
 with her back against the wall near us, which was 
 as far away from her charges as space permitted. 
 She was the " sheep-dog," and we soon saw that, 
 while discreetly oblivious of the smiles, glances, and 
 behavior of her lambs, as all well-trained society 
 sheep-dogs are, she kept darting sharp looks at us 
 as though we were doing something quite out of the 
 way and improper. By that time we had begun to 
 suspect, for various reasons, that the Nizhni Fair is 
 intended for men, not for ladies. But we were 
 determined quietly to convince ourselves of the state 
 of affairs, so we stood our ground, dallied with our 
 
336 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 tea, drank an enormous quantity of it, and kept our 
 eyes diligently in the direction where those of the 
 sheep-dog should have been, but never were. 
 
 Their very bad singing over, the lambs disappeared 
 to the adjoining veranda. The young merchants 
 slipped out, one by one. The waiters began to carry 
 great dishes of peaches, and other dainty fruits, 
 all worth their weight in gold in Russia, and espe- 
 cially at Nizhni, together with bottles of cham- 
 pagne, out to the veranda. When we were satisfied, 
 we went to bed, but not to sleep. The peaches kept 
 that party on the veranda and in the rooms below 
 exhilarated until nearly daylight. I suppose the 
 duenna did her duty and sat out the revel in the 
 distant security of the dining-room. Several of her 
 charges added a number of points to our store of 
 information the next day, at the noon breakfast hour, 
 when the duenna was not present. 
 
 We began to think that we understood our Mos- 
 cow friend's enigmatic smile, and to regret that we 
 had not met him and his wife at the Fair, as we had 
 originally arranged to do. 
 
 The far-famed Fair of Nizhni Novgorod " Ma- 
 kary," the Russians call it, from the town and mon- 
 astery of St. Makary, sixty miles farther down the 
 Volga, where it was held from 1624 until the present 
 location was adopted in 1824 was a disappoint- 
 ment to us. There is no denying that. Until rail- 
 ways and steamers were introduced into these parts, 
 and facilitated the distribution of goods, and of com- 
 monplaceness and monotony, it probably merited all 
 the extravagant praises of its picturesqueness and 
 variety which have been lavished upon it. The trav- 
 eler arrives there with indefinite but vast expecta- 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 337 
 
 tions. A fancy dress ball on an enormous scale, 
 combined with an International Exposition, would 
 seem to be the nearest approach possible to a de- 
 scription of his confused anticipations. That is, in a 
 measure, what one sees ; and, on the other hand, it is 
 exactly the reverse of what he sees. I must confess 
 that I think our disappointment was partly our own 
 fault. Had we, like most travelers who have written 
 extravagantly about the Fair, come to it fresh from 
 a stay of (at most) three weeks in St. Petersburg and 
 Moscow only, we should have been much impressed 
 by the variety of types and goods, I have no doubt. 
 But we had spent nearly two years in the land, and 
 were familiar with the types and goods of the capitals 
 and of other places, so that there was little that was 
 new to us. Consequently, though we found the Fair 
 very interesting, we were not able to excite ourselves 
 to any extravagant degree of amazement or rapture. 
 The Fair proper consists of a mass of two-story 
 " stone " (brick and cement) buildings, inclosed on 
 three sides by a canal in the shape of a horseshoe. 
 Through the centre runs a broad boulevard planted 
 with trees, ending at the open point of the horseshoe 
 in the residence occupied by the governor during the 
 Fair (he usually lives in the Kremlin of the Upper 
 Town), the post-office, and other public buildings. 
 Across the other end of the boulevard and " rows " 
 of the Gostinny Dvor, with their arcades full of 
 benches occupied by fat merchants or indolent vis- 
 itors, and serving as a chord to the arc of the horse- 
 shoe, run the " Chinese rows," which derive their 
 name from the style of their curving iron roofs and 
 their ornaments, not from the nationality of the mer- 
 chants, or of the goods sold there. It is, probably, 
 
338 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 a mere accident that the wholesale shops for over- 
 land tea are situated in the Chinese rows. It is a 
 good place to see the great bales of " Kiakhta tea," 
 still in their wrappings of rawhides, with the hair 
 inside and the hieroglyphical addresses, weights, and 
 so forth, cut into the skins, instead of being painted 
 on them, just as they have been brought overland 
 from Kiakhta on the Chinese border of Siberia. 
 Here, also, rises the great Makary Cathedral, which 
 towers conspicuously above the low-roofed town. In- 
 side the boundary formed by this Belt Canal, no 
 smoking is allowed in the streets, under penalty of 
 twenty-five rubles for each offense. The drainage 
 system is flushed from the river every night ; and 
 from the ventilation towers, which are placed at 
 short intervals, the blue smoke of purifying fires curls 
 reassuringly. Great care is necessary in this depart- 
 ment, and the sanitary conditions, though as good as 
 possible, are never very secure. The whole low sand- 
 spit is often submerged during the spring floods, and 
 the retreating waters leave a deposit of slime and 
 debris behind them, which must be cleared away, 
 besides doing much damage to the buildings. 
 
 The peculiarity of this Makary Fair is that no- 
 thing is sold by sample, in modern fashion ; the 
 whole stock of goods is on hand, and is delivered at 
 once to purchasers. The taciturn, easy-going mer- 
 chants in those insignificant-looking shops of the Gos- 
 tinny Dvor " rows," and, to a small extent, in the 
 supplementary town which has sprung up outside 
 the canal, set the prices for tea and goods of all 
 sorts all over Russia and Siberia for the ensuing year. 
 Contracts for the future are dated, and last year's 
 bills fall due, at " Makary." It is hard to realize. 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGbROD FA in. 339 
 
 All the firms with whose shops we had been fa- 
 miliar in Petersburg and Moscow had establishments 
 here, and, at first, it seemed not worth while to in- 
 spect their stocks, with which we felt perfectly ac- 
 quainted. But we soon discovered that our previous 
 familiarity enabled us to distinguish certain articles 
 which are manufactured for the " Fair " trade ex- 
 clusively, and which are never even shown in the 
 capitals. For example, the great porcelain houses 
 of St. Petersburg manufacture large pipe-bowls, ewers 
 (with basins to match) of the Oriental shape familiar 
 to the world in silver and brass, and other things, all 
 decorated with a deep crimson bordering on magenta, 
 and with gold. The great silk houses of Moscow 
 prepare very rich and very costly brocades of this 
 same deep crimson hue, besprinkled with gold and 
 with tiny bouquets of bright flowers, or in which the 
 crimson is prominent. They even copy the large, 
 elaborate patterns from the robes of ancient Doges 
 of Venice. All these, like the pipes and ewers, are 
 made to suit the taste of customers in Bokhara and 
 other Eastern countries, where a man's rank is, to a 
 certain degree, to be recognized by the number and 
 richness of the khaldti which he can afford to wear 
 at one time. This is one of the points in which the 
 civilization of the East coincides very nearly with the 
 civilization of the West. The Jchaldt is a sort of 
 dressing-gown, with wide sleeves, which is girt about 
 the waist with a handsome shawl ; but it would 
 strike a European that eight or ten of these, worn one 
 on top of the other, might conduce to the preserva- 
 tion of vanity, but not to comfort, in the hot coun- 
 tries where the custom prevails. The Bokhariots 
 bring to the Fair khaldti of their own thin, strong 
 
340 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 silk, in hues more gaudy than those of the rainbow 
 arid the peacock combined, which are always lined 
 \vith pretty green and white chintz, and can be 
 bought for a very reasonable price in the Oriental 
 shops, together with jeweled arms and ornaments, 
 rugs, and a great variety of fascinating wares. 
 
 The choicest " overland " tea the true name is 
 " Kiakhta tea " can be had only by wholesale, 
 alas! and it is the same with very many things. 
 There are shops full of rolls of sarpinka, a fine, 
 changeable gingham in pink and blue, green and 
 yellow, and a score of other combinations, which 
 washes perfectly, and is made by the peasants, far 
 down the Volga, in the season when agricultural 
 labor is impossible. There are furs of more sorts 
 than the foreign visitor is likely ever to have seen 
 before ; iron from the Ural mines by the ton, on a 
 detached sand-spit in the Oka River; dried and salted 
 fish by the cord, in a distant, too odorous spot ; gold- 
 smiths' shops; old-clothes shops, where quaint and 
 beautiful old costumes of Russia abound ; Tatar shops, 
 filled with fine, multi-colored leather work and other 
 Tatar goods, presided over by the stately Tatars from 
 whom we had bought at Kazdn ; shops piled with 
 every variety of dried fruit, where prime Sultana 
 raisins cost forty cents for a box of one hundred and 
 twenty pounds. Altogether, it is a varied and in- 
 structive medley. 
 
 We learned several trade tricks. For example, 
 we came upon the agency of a Moscow factory, 
 which makes a woolen imitation of an Oriental 
 silken fabric, known as termalamd. The agent ac- 
 knowledged that it was an imitation, and said that 
 the price by the piece was twenty-five cents a yard. 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 341 
 
 In the Moscow Oriental shops the dealers sell it for 
 eight times that price, and swear that it is genuine 
 from the East. A Russian friend of ours had been 
 cheated in this way, and the dealers attempted to 
 cheat us also, in vain, after our Nizhni investiga- 
 tions. 
 
 Every one seemed to be absorbed in business, to 
 the exclusion of every other thought. But some- 
 times, as we wandered along the boulevard, and 
 among the rows, we found the ground of the Gos- 
 tinny Dvor strewn with fresh sprays of fragrant fir, 
 which we took at first to be a token that a funeral 
 had occurred among some of the merchants' clerks 
 who lived over the shops. However, it appeared 
 that a holy picture had been carried along the rows, 
 and into the shops of those who desired its blessing 
 on their trade, and a short service had been held. 
 The "zeal" of these numerous devout persons must 
 have enriched the church where the iktina dwelt, 
 judging from the number of times during our five 
 days' stay that we came upon these freshly strewn 
 paths. 
 
 The part of the Fair which is most interesting to 
 foreigners in general, I think, is the great glass gal- 
 lery filled with retail booths, where Russians sell 
 embroidery and laces and the handiwork of the peas- 
 ants in general ; where Caucasians deal in the beau- 
 tiful gold and silver work of their native mountains ; 
 where swarthy Bokhariots sit cross-legged, with im- 
 perturbable dignity, among their gay wares, while 
 the band plays, and the motley crowd bargains and 
 gazes even in the evening when all the other shops 
 are closed. 
 
 I learned here an extra lesson in the small value 
 
342 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 attached by Russians to titles in themselves. It was 
 at the Ekaterinburg booth, where precious and semi- 
 precious stones from the Ural and Siberia, in great 
 variety and beauty, were for sale. A Russian of the 
 higher classes, and, evidently, not poor, inquired the 
 price of a rosary of amethysts, with a cross of as- 
 sorted gems fit for a bishop. The attendant men- 
 tioned the price. It did not seem excessive, but the 
 bargainer exclaimed, in a bantering tone, 
 
 " Come now, prince, that 's the fancy price. Tell 
 me the real price." 
 
 But the "prince" would not make any reduction, 
 and his customer walked away. I thought I would 
 try the effect of the title on the Caucasians and 
 Bokhariots. I had already dropped into the habit 
 of addressing Tatars as " prince," except in the case 
 of hotel waiters, and I might as well have in- 
 cluded them. I found to my amusement that, instead 
 of resenting it as an impertinence, they reduced the 
 price of the article for which I was bargaining by 
 five kopeks (about two and a half cents) every time 
 I used the title, though no sign of gratification dis- 
 turbed the serene gravity of their countenances any 
 more than if they had been Americans and I had 
 addressed them as "colonel" or "judge," at hap- 
 hazard. Truly, human nature varies little under 
 different skies ! But I know now, authoritatively, 
 that the market value of the title of " prince " is 
 exactly two and a half cents. 
 
 One evening we drove across the bridge to take 
 tea at a garden on the " Atkos," or slope, the 
 crest of the green hill on which stands the Kremlin. 
 In this Atk6s quarter of the town there are some 
 really fine houses of wealthy merchants, mingkd 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 343 
 
 with the curious old dwellings of the merely well-to- 
 do and the poor. In the garden the tea was not very 
 good, and the weedy-looking chorus of women, the 
 inevitable adjunct to every eating establishment at 
 the Fair, as we had learned, sang wretchedly, and 
 were rewarded accordingly when one of their number 
 came round to take up a collection. But the view! 
 Far below, at our feet, swept broad " Matushka 
 V61ga." The wharves were crowded with vessels. 
 Steamers and great barges lay anchored in the stream 
 in battalions. Though the activity of the day was 
 practically over, tugs and small boats were darting 
 about and lending life to the scene. We were on 
 the " Hills" side of the river. Far away, in dreamy 
 dimness, lay the flat, blue-green line of the "For- 
 ests " shore. On our left was the mouth of the Okd, 
 and the Fair beyond, which seemed to be swarming 
 with ants, lay flat on the water level. The setting 
 sun tinged the scene with pale rose and amber in a 
 mild glow for a while, and then the myriad lights 
 shone out from the city and river with even more 
 charming effect. 
 
 Our next visit to the old town was in search of a 
 writer who had published a couple of volumes of 
 agreeable sketches. It was raining hard, so we en- 
 gaged an izvtistchik who was the fortunate possessor 
 of an antiquated covered carriage, with a queer little 
 drapery of scarlet cotton curtains hanging from the 
 front of the hood, as though to screen the modesty of 
 " the young person " from the manners, customs, and 
 sights of the Fair, about which, to tell the truth, 
 the less that is said in detail the better. Certainly, 
 more queer, old-fashioned carriages and cabmen's 
 costumes are to be seen at the Fair than anywhere 
 
344 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 else in the country. As we were about to enter our 
 antique conveyance, my mother's foot caught in the 
 braid on the bottom of her dress, and a long strip 
 gave way. 
 
 " I must go upstairs and sew this on before we 
 start," said she, reentering the hotel. 
 
 The izvtistchik ran after us. " Let me sew it on, 
 Your High Well-born," he cried. Seeing our surprise, 
 he added, " God is my witness, yay B6gu! I am a 
 tailor by trade." 
 
 His rent and faded coat did not seem to indicate 
 anything of the sort, but I thought I would try him, 
 as I happened to have a needleful of silk and a 
 thimble in my pocket. I gave them to him accord- 
 ingly. He knelt down and sewed on the braid very 
 neatly and strongly in no time. His simple, friendly 
 manner was irresistibly charming. I cannot imagine 
 accepting such an offer from a New York cabby, 
 or his offering to do such a job. 
 
 When we reached the old town, I asked a police- 
 man where to find my author. I thought he might 
 be able to tell me at once, as the town is not densely 
 populated, especially with authors ; and for other 
 reasons. He did not know. 
 
 " Then where is the police office or the address 
 office ? " I asked. (There is no such thing as a 
 directory in Russian cities, even in St. Petersburg. 
 But there is an address office where the names and 
 residences on passports are filed, and where one can 
 obtain the address wanted by paying a small fee, and 
 filling out a form. But he must know the baptismal 
 name and the patronymic as well as the surname, 
 and, if the person wanted be not " noble," his pro- 
 fession or trade in addition !) 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 345 
 
 " There is no address office," he answered, " and 
 the police office is closed. It is after four o'clock. 
 Besides, if it were open, you could not find out there. 
 We keep no record here, except of soldiers and 
 strangers." 
 
 I thought the man was jesting, but after question- 
 ing him further, I was forced to conclude that it 
 might be true, thought it certainly was amazing. 
 As the author in question had been sent to Siberia 
 once or twice, on the charge of complicity in some 
 revolutionary proceedings, it did seem as though 
 the police ought to be able to give his address, if 
 Russia meant to live up to the reputation for strict 
 surveillance of every soul within her borders which 
 foreigners have kindly bestowed upon her. 
 
 As a house-to-house visitation was impossible, I 
 abandoned the quest, and drove to a photographer's 
 to buy some views of the town. The photographer 
 proved to be a chatty, vivacious man, and full of 
 information. I mentioned my dilemma to him. He 
 said that the policeman had told the exact truth, but 
 that my author, to his positive knowledge, was in the 
 Crimea, " looking up material." Then he questioned 
 me as to what we had seen at the Fair, mentioning 
 one or two places of evening entertainment. I re- 
 plied that we had not been to those places. I had 
 understood that they were not likely to suit my taste. 
 Had I been rightly informed, or ought I to have 
 gone to them in spite of warning ? 
 
 " No," he replied frankly, after a momentary 
 hesitation, "you ought not to see them. But all 
 the American women do go to them. There was a 
 party here last year. O-o-o-oh, how they went on ! 
 They were told, as you have been, that they ought 
 
346 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 not to go to certain places ; so of course they went, 
 and took the men in the party with them, which 
 was just as well. I 'd have given something to see 
 their faces at the time, or even afterwards ! An 
 Englishman, who had traveled everywhere, and had 
 seen everything, told me that nowhere, even in India, 
 had he seen the like of the doings at this Fair ; and 
 he was greatly shocked." He added that an officer 
 could not appear at these places in uniform. 
 
 I begged the photographer to remember in future 
 that there were several sorts of American women, 
 and that not all of them worked by the law of con- 
 traries. In my own mind I wondered what those 
 particular women had done, and wished, for the hun- 
 dredth time, that American women abroad would 
 behave themselves properly, and not earn such a 
 reputation for their country-people. 
 
 On Sunday we went to the Armenian church, to 
 see the service and to meet some Armenian acquaint- 
 ances. We found the service both like and unlike 
 the Russian, in many points approaching more nearly 
 to the Greek form. The music was astonishing. An 
 undercurrent of sound, alternating between a few 
 notes, was kept up throughout the service, almost 
 without a break. At times, this undercurrent har- 
 monized with the main current of intoning and 
 chanting, but quite as often the discord was posi- 
 tively distressing. Perceiving that we were stran- 
 gers, the Armenians showed their hospitality in an 
 original way. First, when one of the congregation 
 went forward to the chancel railing and received 
 from the priest the triple kiss of peace, which he then 
 proceeded to communicate to another person, who 
 passed it on in dumb show, and so on through the 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 347 
 
 whole assembly, neither men nor women would run 
 the risk of offending us by offering the simulated 
 kiss. Secondly, and more peculiar, besides throw- 
 ing light on their motives in omitting the kiss, they 
 deliberately passed us by when they brought round 
 the plate for the collection ! This was decidedly 
 novel ! A visit to the Armenian church in St. Pe- 
 tersburg convinced us that the discordant music was 
 not an accident due to bad training, but deliberate 
 and habitual. I noticed also that the men and 
 women, though they stood on opposite sides of the 
 church, as with the Russian Old Ritualists, with the 
 women on the left, in the State Church, at Court, 
 the women stand on the right, they crossed them- 
 selves from left to right, like Roman Catholics, in- 
 stead of the other way about, as do the Russians. 
 
 As we were exploring the Tatar shops at noon, we 
 heard the muezzin calling to prayer from the mina- 
 ret of the mosque close by, and we set off to attend 
 the service. If we had only happened to have on our 
 galoshes, we might have complied with .etiquette by 
 removing them, I suppose, and could have entered in 
 our shoes. At least, the Russian policeman said so, 
 and that is very nearly what the Tatars did. They 
 kicked off the stiff leather slippers in which they 
 scuff about, and entered in their tall boots, with the 
 inset of frosted green pebbled horsehide in the heel, 
 and soft soles, like socks. As it was, we did not 
 care to try the experiment of removing our shoes, 
 and so we were obliged to stand in the vestibule, 
 and look on from the threshold. Each Tatar, as he 
 entered, pulled out the end of his turban, and let it 
 float down his back. Where the turban came from 
 for the prayers, I do not know. None of the Tatars 
 
348 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 had worn a turban in the shops from which they had 
 just come in large numbers, abandoning the pressing 
 engagements of the busy noontide. Several indi- 
 viduals arrived very late, and decided not to enter. 
 All of these late corners, one after the other, beck- 
 oned me mysteriously out of sight of the congrega- 
 tion and the mollah, and whispered eagerly : - 
 
 "How do you like it?" 
 
 " Very much," I answered emphatically ; where- 
 upon they exhibited signs of delight which were sur- 
 prising in such grave people, and even made a motion 
 to kiss my hand. 
 
 At least, that is what the motion would have 
 meant from a Russian. Next to the magnificent 
 ceremonial of the Russian Church, the opposite ex- 
 treme, this simplicity of the congregational Mussul- 
 man worship is the most impressive I have ever seen. 
 
 The manner of our departure from Nizhni Novgo- 
 rod was characteristically Russian, but not by our 
 own choice. We decided to go on up the Volga by 
 steamer, see the river and a few of the towns, and 
 return from some point, by rail, to Moscow. 
 
 The boat was advertised to start from the wharf, 
 in the old town, at six o'clock in the evening. We 
 went aboard in good season, and discovered that 
 there were but three first-class staterooms, the best 
 of which (the only good one, as it afterwards ap- 
 peared) had been captured by some friends of the 
 captain. We installed ourselves in the best we 
 could get, and congratulated eacli other when the 
 steamer started on time. We had hardly finished 
 the congratulations when it drew up at another wharf 
 and made fast. Then it was explained to us that it 
 was to load at this wharf, at the " Siberian Landing," 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 349 
 
 a point on the Volga shore of the Fair sand-spit, 
 miles nearer our hotel than the one to which we had 
 driven through torrents of rain. We were to make 
 our real start at ten o'clock that night ! The cold 
 was piercing. We wrapped ourselves up in our 
 wadded cloaks and in a big down quilt which we 
 had with us, and tried to sleep, amid the deliberate 
 bang-bang-bang of loading. When the cargo was in 
 we slept. When we woke in the morning we began 
 to exchange remarks, being still in that half coma- 
 tose condition which follows heavy slumber. 
 
 " What a delightfully easy boat ! " " Who would 
 have expected such smoothness of motion from such 
 an inferior-looking old craft ? " " It must be very 
 swift to have no motion at all perceptible. Where- 
 abouts are we, and how much have we missed? " 
 
 I rose and raised the blind. The low shore oppo- 
 site and far away, the sandy islet near at hand, the 
 river, all looked suspiciously like what our eyes 
 had rested upon when we went to bed the night 
 before. We would not believe it at first, but it was 
 true, that we had not moved a foot, but were still 
 tied up at the Siberian Landing. Thence we re- 
 turned to the town wharf, no apologies or explana- 
 tions being forthcoming or to be extracted, whence 
 we made a final start at about nine o'clock, only fif- 
 teen hours late ! And the company professed to be 
 " American " ! 
 
 Progress up the river was slow. The cold rain 
 and wind prevented our availing ourselves of the 
 tiny deck. The little saloon had no outlook, being 
 placed in the middle of the boat. The shores and 
 villages were not of striking interest, after our ac- 
 quaintance with the lower Volga. For hours all the 
 
350 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 other passengers (chiefly second-class) were abed, 
 apparently. I returned to my cabin to kill time 
 with reading, and presently found the divan and 
 even the floor and partition walls becoming intoler- 
 ably hot, and exhaling a disagreeable smell of 
 charred wood. I set out on a tour of investigation. 
 In the next compartment to us, which had the out- 
 ward appearance of a stateroom, but was inclosed on 
 the outside only by a lattice-work, was the smoke- 
 pipe. The whistle was just over our heads, and the 
 pipe almost touched the partition wall of our cabin. 
 That partly explained the deadly chill of the night 
 before, and the present suffocating heat. I descended 
 to the lower deck. There stood the engine, almost 
 as rudimentary as a parlor stove, in full sight and 
 directly under our cabin ; also close to the wood- 
 work. It burned wood, and at every station the 
 men brought a supply on board; the sticks, laid 
 across two poles in primitive but adequate fashion, 
 being deposited by the simple process of widening 
 the space between the poles, and letting the wood 
 fall on the deck with a noise like thunder. The 
 halts and " wooding up " seemed especially frequent 
 at night, and there was not much opportunity for 
 sleep between them. Our fear of being burned alive 
 also deprived us of the desire to sleep. We were 
 nearly roasted, as it was, and had to go out on the 
 deck in the wind and rain at short intervals, to cool 
 off. 
 
 There was nothing especially worthy of note at 
 any of the landings, beyond the peculiar windmills, 
 except at Gorodetz, which is renowned for the 
 manufacture of spice-cakes, so the guide-book said. 
 I watched anxiously for Gorodetz, went ashore, and 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 351 
 
 bought the biggest " spice-cake " I could find from 
 an old woman on the wharf. All the other passen- 
 gers landed for the same purpose, and the old woman 
 did a rushing business. After taking a couple of 
 mouthfuls, I decided that I was unable to appreciate 
 the merits of my cake, as I had been, after repeated 
 efforts, to appreciate those of a somewhat similar 
 concoction known under the name of " Vyazemsky." 
 So I gave the cake to the grateful stewardess, and 
 went out on deck to look at a ray of sunlight. 
 
 " Where 's your cake ? " asked a stern voice at my 
 elbow. The speaker was a man with long hair and 
 beard, dressed like a peasant, in a conical fur cap 
 and a sheepskin coat, though his voice, manner, and 
 general appearance showed that he belonged to the 
 higher classes. Perhaps he was an " adept " of Count 
 Tolst6y, and was merely masquerading in that cos- 
 tume, which was very comfortable, though it was 
 only September. 
 
 " I gave it to the stewardess," I answered meekly, 
 being taken by surprise. 
 
 " What ! Did n't you eat it ? Don't you know, 
 madam, that these spice-cakes are renowned for their 
 qualities all over Russia, and are even carried to the 
 remotest parts of Siberia and of China, also, I be- 
 lieve, in great quantities? [He had got ahead of 
 the guide-book in that last particular !] Why did n't 
 you eat it?" 
 
 " It did not taste good ; and besides, I was afraid 
 of indigestion. It seemed never to have been cooked, 
 unless by exposure to the sun, and it was soggy and 
 heavy as lead. You know there has been a great deal 
 of rain lately, and what sun we have even now is very 
 pule and weak, hardly adapted to baking purposes." 
 
352 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 This seemed to enrage my hairy mentor, and he 
 poured out a volume of indignant criticism, reproach, 
 and ejaculations, all tangled up with fragments of 
 cookery receipts, though evidently not the receipt 
 for the Gorodetz cakes, which is a secret. The 
 other passengers listened in amazement and delight. 
 When he paused for breath, I remarked : 
 
 " Well, I don't see any harm in having bestowed 
 such a delicate luxury on the poor stewardess. Did 
 any of you think to buy a cake for her ? And why 
 not ? I denied myself to give her pleasure. Look 
 at it in that light for a while, sir, if my bad taste 
 offends you. And, in the mean while, tell me what 
 has inspired you with the taste to dress like a peas- 
 ant ? " 
 
 That settled him, and he retreated. That evening 
 he and the friend with whom he seemed to be trav- 
 eling talked most entertainingly in the little saloon, 
 after supper. The friend, a round, rosy, jolly man, 
 dressed in ordinary European clothes, was evidently 
 proud of his flow of language, and liked to hear him- 
 self talk. Actors, actresses, and theatres in Russia, 
 from the middle of the last century down to the 
 present day, were his favorite topic, on which he de- 
 claimed with appropriate gestures and very notice- 
 able management of several dimples in his cheeks. 
 As a matter of course, he considered the present day 
 degenerate, and lauded the old times and dead actors 
 and actresses only. It seemed that the longer they 
 had been dead, the higher were their merits. He 
 talked very well, also, about books and social con- 
 ditions. 
 
 The progress of the weak-kneed steamer against 
 wind and current was very slow and uncertain, and 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 353 
 
 we never knew when we should reach any given 
 point. Even the mouths of the rivers were not so 
 exciting or important in nature as they used to look 
 to me when I studied geography. I imparted to the 
 captain my opinion that his engine was no better 
 than a samovar. He tried hard to be angry, but a 
 glance at that ridiculous machine convinced him of 
 the justice of my comparison, and he broke into a 
 laugh. 
 
 We left the steamer at Yaroslavl (it was bound for 
 Rybinsk), two hundred and forty-one miles above 
 Nizlmi-N<5vgorod, and got our first view of the town 
 at daybreak. It stands on the high west bank of 
 the river, but is not so picturesque as Nizhni. Ac- 
 cess to the town is had only through half a dozen 
 cuts and ravines, as at Nizhni ; and what a singular 
 town it is ! With only a little over thirty thou- 
 sand inhabitants, it has seventy-seven churches, be- 
 sides monasteries and other ecclesiastical buildings. 
 There are streets which seem to be made up chiefly 
 of churches, churches of all sizes and colors, 
 crowned with beautiful and fantastic domes, which, 
 in turn, are surmounted by crosses of the most 
 charming and original designs. 
 
 Yaroslavl, founded in 1030, claims the honor of 
 having had the first Russian theatre, and to have 
 sheltered Biron, the favorite of the Empress Anna 
 loannovna (a doubtful honor this), with his family, 
 during nineteen years of exile. But its architectural 
 hints and revelations of ancient fashions, forms, and 
 customs, are its chief glory, not to be obscured even 
 by its modern renown for linen woven by hand and 
 by machinery. For a person who really understands 
 Russian architecture, not the architecture of St. 
 
354 THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 
 
 Petersburg, which is chiefly the invention of for- 
 eigners, Yaroslavl and other places on the north- 
 ern Volga in this neighborhood, widely construed, 
 are mines of information and delight. However, as 
 there are no books wherewith a foreigner can inform 
 himself on this subject, any attempt at details would 
 not only seem pedantic, but would be incomprehen- 
 sible without tiresome explanations and many illus- 
 trations, which are not possible here. I may remark, 
 however, that Viollet-le-Duc and Fergusson do not 
 understand the subject of Russian architecture, and 
 that their few observations on the matter are nearly 
 all as erroneous as they well can be. I believe that 
 very few Russians even know much scientifically 
 about the development of their national architecture 
 from the Byzantine style. Yaroslavl is a good place 
 to study it, and has given its name to one epoch of 
 that development. 
 
 With the exception of the churches, Yaroslavl has 
 not much to show to the visitor ; but the bazaar was 
 a delight to us, with its queer pottery, its baskets for 
 moulding bread, its bread-trays for washtubs, and a 
 dozen other things in demand by the peasants as to 
 which we had to ask explanations. 
 
 Breezy, picturesque Yaroslavl, with its dainty, in- 
 dependent cabbies, who object to the mud which 
 must have been their portion all their lives, and 
 reject rare customers rather than drive through it ; 
 with its churches never to be forgotten ; its view of 
 the Volga, and its typical Russian features ! It was 
 a fitting end to our Volga trip, and fully repaid us 
 for our hot-cold voyage with the samovdr steamer 
 against the stream, though I had not believed, during 
 the voyage, that anything could make up for the 
 
THE NIZHNI NOVGOROD FAIR. 355 
 
 tedium. If I were to visit it again, I would approach 
 it from the railway side and leave it to descend the 
 river. But I would not advise any foreigner to tackle 
 it at all, unless he be as well prepared as we were 
 to appreciate its remarkable merits in certain direc- 
 tions. 
 
 A night's journey landed us in Moscow. But 
 even the glories of Moscow cannot make us forget 
 the city of Yarosldff the Great and Nizhni Novgorod. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ABBESS, 321, 325. 
 Abraham, 225. 
 Abuse, vi. 
 
 Acacia, 116, 157, 255. 
 Academy, 208, 209. 
 Acrobat, 194. 
 Actor, 162, 352. 
 Adam, 118. 
 Address, 10, 344, 345. 
 Address tickets, 13. 
 Adept, 179, 181, 351. 
 Admiral, 245, 330. 
 Admiralty, 52, 54-56, 59, 102. 
 Advertisement, 68. 
 Africa, vii. 
 Aisle, v, vi. 
 Albumen, 299. 
 
 Alexander, Prince, 2, 22, 23, 30. 
 Alexander I., 27, 32, 55, 58. 
 Alexander II., 101, 109, 307. 
 Alexander III., 91. 
 Alexandra, 2G6, 267. 
 Alexandra Square, 33. 
 Alexandra Theatre, 33. 
 Alexei, 52, 157, 190. 
 Allah, 238. 
 Almond, 301. 
 Alphabet, 6. 
 Altar, 230. 
 Ambassador, 95. 
 Amber, 272, 278, 330. 
 America, v, vi. 37, 44, 61, 65, 66, 76, 78 
 ^ 8 '. 89 '1 2 ^142',146,161,1 C '' 78 ' 
 
 Amerikanskiya zhiteli, 37. 
 
 Amethysts, 342. 
 
 Anaemia, 306. 
 
 Ananias, 15. 
 
 Andrei, 108. 
 
 Angel, 193, 213, 224. 
 
 Anitchkoff, 27. See also Palace. 
 
 Anna, 27, 53, 353. See also Empress. 
 
 Anna Karelin, 160, 163. 
 
 Annushka, 259. 
 
 Anointment, 51, 227. 
 
 Anteroom, 268 
 
 Anthill, 259. 
 
 Antony. See St. Antdny. 
 
 Apostle, 274, 276, 280 ' 
 
 Apples, 114, 280, 291. 
 
 Apron, 123, 187, 189, 269. 
 
 Apse, 223, 230. 
 
 Arch, 29, 252, 273. 
 
 Architecture, 30, 52, 55, 83,210, 291, 333, 
 
 oo3j 354. 
 Arctic, 38, 316. 
 Argot, Madame, 20. 
 Ariadne, 118. 
 Arkhangel, 38, 126. 
 Armenian, 43, 330, 331, 346, 347. 
 Army, 138, 177, 178, 272, 319, 334. 
 Armyak, 47, 237, 273. 
 Arrivers, 103, 207. 
 Artel, 29. 
 Artist, 94, 06, 224. 
 Artistic Circle, 94, 98. 
 Asia, 44, 252, 284. 
 Assumption, 210, 214, 216, 218, 220, 222, 
 
 s o^' khan ' 118 > 235 > 241 275, 277, 281, 
 
 286,291,330,331,333. 
 Asylum, 318, 319. 
 Athos, Mount, 221, 320, 322. 
 Atkos, 342. 
 Atlantic, 220. 
 Author, 180, 186, 345. 
 Autograph album, 323, 324. 
 Autumn, 86. 
 
 Avenue, 157, 166, 167, 190, 191. 
 Avos, na, 150, 260. See also Luck. 
 Axe, 270. 
 
 Balagani, 56. 
 
 Balakhin, 186. 
 
 Balalaika, 190, 192. 
 
 Balcony, 92, 211. 
 
 Balkan, 45, 312. 
 
 Ballou, Adin, 16. 
 
 Balls, 59, 161, 162, 293, 336. 
 
 Bank, 7, 54, 72. 
 
 Banquet, 229. 
 
 Baptism, 51. 57, 213, 285. 
 
 Baptizing, 160, 230, 231, 233. 
 
 Barclay de Tolly, 50. 
 
 Bargaining, 77, 88, 109, 189, 239, 248. 
 
 Barge, 332, 343. 
 
 Bark, 85, 257, 270, 278, 282, 288. 
 
 Barometer, 265. 
 
 Baron, 7. 
 
 Barracks, 120. 
 
 Barrel, 248. 
 
358 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Barrow, 31. 
 
 Barynya, 83, 109, 110. 
 
 Bar^uya-Sudarynya, 192. 
 
 Bashkir, 266, 292, 304. 
 
 Bashlyk, 36, 44, 46. 
 
 Basin, 295, 339. 
 
 Basket, 260, 354. 
 
 Basses, 230. 
 
 Bast, 207, 284. 
 
 Bathing, 158, 167-169, 266-269, 286, 295, 
 
 319. 
 
 Batiushka, 145, 228. 
 Battle, 51. 
 
 Bazaar, 354. See Gostinny Dvor. 
 Beach, 278. 
 Beads, 188, 301, 330. 
 Bear, 262, 263. 
 Bed, 55, 104, 189, 218, 269, 274, 294, 307, 
 
 334. 
 
 Bee, 262. 
 Beef, 106. 
 
 Beelsteak, 296, 297, 307. 
 Beer, 220. 
 
 Beggars, 51, 131, 134, 152, 185, 204, 205. 
 Belfry, 229, 232. 
 Believers, Old, 134, 138, 146. 
 Bell, 59, 92, 104, 120, 209, 219, 220, 252. 
 Bell, glass, 225, 227. 
 Belt, 150. 
 
 Bench, 168, 189, 219, 220, 247, 269, 337. 
 Beregis, 46. 
 Berlin, 1, 5, 62, 127. 
 Berostovo, 221. 
 
 Berries, 126, 129. See Currants, etc. 
 Betrothal, 188. 
 Bicycles, 142. 
 Birch, 31, 85, 116, 117, 131, 167, 203, 205, 
 
 220, 221, 251, 261, 267, 268. 
 Bird-cage, 127, 257. 
 Birmingham, 152. 
 Biron, 353. 
 Bishop, 342. 
 Black beads, 188. 
 Black beetle, 2f,l. 
 Blackberries, 276. 
 Black bread. See Bread. 
 Biack cock, 261. 
 Blaok earth, 167, 203, 235, 252. See 
 
 Tcliernozyom. 
 Bliok Forest, 261, 293. 
 Black Sea, 44. 
 
 Blessing, 211, 221, 228, 321, 326, 341. 
 Blinders, vii. 
 
 Blouse, 122, 133. 158, 181. 
 Boat, 30, 55, 118, 232, 247, 274, 275, 276, 
 
 278, 281, 349. 
 
 Boatmen, 30, 275, 276, 279-282. 
 Bodies, 225. 
 
 Bog v pomozh, 252. See God. 
 Bogatjrri, 225. 
 Bokhara, 339. 
 Bokhariots, 341, 342. 
 Bolshaya Morskaya, 49. 
 Bonfire, 192. 
 Booby, Mrs., 311, 312. 
 Book, v, 61, 66, 67, 70, 74, 195, 196, 199, 
 
 214, 323, 324, 352. 
 
 Booklet, 15. 
 
 Bookstore, 63. 
 
 Boots, 39, 41, 104, 107, 133, 137, 140, 14L 
 
 143, 180, 223, 237, 239, 242, 280, 301. 
 Boston, 65, 76. 
 
 Bottle, 301, 302, 304, 305, 307, 318. 
 Bottle-imps, 37. 
 Botvinya, 297, 298. 
 Bouillon, 144. 
 Boulevard, 316, 317. 
 Bowl, 269. 
 Bracelets, 301. 
 Brags, 234. 
 Braid, 344. 
 Brain, 306. 
 Bread, 30, 55, 118, 126, 135, 167, 187, 193, 
 
 215, 218, 220, 240, 241, 247, 263, 268, 
 
 282, 298, 308, 318, 354. 
 Bread-trays, 354. 
 Breakfast, 125, 168, 217, 275, 282, 296, 
 
 297, 336. 
 Brick, 84, 189, 203, 204, 207, 229, 255, 291, 
 
 292, 333, 337. 
 Bride, 50, 51, 162. 
 Bridge, 25, 54, 57, 118, 150, 234, 254, 
 
 Brigands, 279. 
 
 Brocade, 339. 
 
 Brothers, 281. 
 
 Buckwheat, 31, 169, 218, 220, 251, 308. 
 
 Building, 25. 
 
 Buntchuk, 120. 
 
 Burlaki, 228. 
 
 Butcher, 106, 236. 
 
 Butler, 187, 191, 263, 273, 278. 
 
 Butter, 176, 273. 
 
 Butter mushroom, 261. 
 
 Buttercups, 119. 
 
 Butterflies, 47. 
 
 Buttons, 47. 
 
 Byeloselsky-Byeloze'rsky, 27. 
 
 Byzantine, 51, 210, 354. 
 
 Byzantium, 205. 
 
 Cabbage, 297, 318, 333. 
 
 Cake, 52, 352. See also Spice -cakes; 
 
 Vyazemsky. 
 Camel's hair, 232. 
 Camp, 276, 277. 
 Campanula, 154. 
 Campions, 119. 
 Canal, 26, 50, 52, 337, 338. 
 Candelabra, 215. 
 Candle, 39, 40, 51, 107, 116, 129, 215, 226, 
 
 320, 325. 
 
 Cantaloupes, 291, 332. 
 Canterbury bells, 154. 
 Cap, 15, 44, 45, 47, 48, 88, 135, 275, 276, 
 
 300. 
 
 Capital, 280. 
 Cargo, 349. 
 Caricature, 62. 
 Carnival, 56. 
 Carpenter, 260. 
 Carpet, 85. 
 
 . Carriage, 46, 58, 86, 93, 98, 142, 250, 253, 
 I 271, 272, 317, 320, 343. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 359 
 
 Cars, horse, 25, 40, 93, 142. 
 
 Cars, steam, 25. 
 
 Cart, 125, l'J7, 248, 257, 283, 284, 286. 
 
 Carter, 237. 
 
 Cart whtvls, 241, 318. 
 
 L'a.-s( in, 301, 304. 
 
 Caspian, 279. 
 
 Cassock, 213. 
 
 Catacombs, 208, 213, 220-224, 226, 228. 
 
 Catarrh, 305. 
 
 Catechism, 224. 
 
 C.uhrdral, 13<J, 210, 213, 214, 219, 220, 223, 
 
 22S, 251,32(1, 328, 338. 
 Cat ill', 244, 21)2, 270. 
 Caiu-asians, 341, 342. 
 Caucasus, 35, 44, 253. 
 Cavalry, 120, 265. 
 Cave, 221, 222. 
 Cavern, 226, 227. 
 
 Caviare, 38, 61, 64, 65, 70, 71, 73, 74. 
 Cells, 212, 219, 221, 222, 227, 247. 
 Cemetery, 23, 42. 
 Censor, 34-61. 
 Censorship, 12. 
 Century, G2, 63, 66, 69-72. 
 Chain, 48, 273. 
 Chalice, 215. 
 Chalk, 273, 282. 
 
 Chambermaid, 104, 107, 294, 335. 
 Champagne, 336. 
 Chancellery, 32. 
 Chanting, 230. 
 Chapel, 38, 111, 244, 320. 
 Chasseur, 49, 95. 
 Cheese, 177. 
 Chemise, 188, 269. 
 Cherries, 114, 129. 
 Chicken, vii, 213, 240, 248, 249, 268. 
 Children, 117, 121, 127, 155, 163, 171, 180, 
 
 190, 199, 252, 257, 258, 319. 
 Chimney, 292. 
 China, 351. 
 
 China Town, 143, 314, 320, 321. 
 Chinese, 118, 337. 
 Chintz, 340. 
 Chocolate, 306. 
 
 Choir, v, 32, 51, 57, 122, 124, 230, 258. 
 Chopping-tray, 269. 
 Choral dances, 190. 
 Choral songs, 255. 
 Chorus, 335, 343. 
 Chrism, 225, 227, 228. 
 Christ, 40, 51, 57, 178, 180, 229. 
 Christian, 216, 228, 258, 328. 
 Christmas, 36, 63, 84, 140, 146. 
 Chromo-lithography, 211. 
 Church, v, vi, 25, 43, 47, 51, 59, 75, 89, 
 
 102, 115, 130, 151,176, 177,205, 209, ! Courier, 14. 
 
 Clay, 292. 
 
 Jlean, 2'JO. 
 
 Cleartield, 157. See Ydsnaya Polydna. 
 
 Clerk, 104, 207. 
 
 Cliff, 207, 226, 300. 
 
 Cloak, 15, 87, 137, 349. 
 
 Cloth, 42, 87, 118, 254, 273. 
 
 Clothes, 108, 231-234, 269. 
 
 Clothes, old, 236, 340. 
 
 Cloudfall, 234. 
 
 Club, 53. 
 
 Coachman, 46, 48, 59, 93, 248, 254, 271, 
 
 Coal, 85. 
 
 Coat, 118, 171, 269, 324. 
 
 Coat of arms, 209, 320. 
 
 Cobbler, 148. 
 
 Cobblestones, 316. 
 
 Codfish, 38. 126. 
 
 Coffee, 167; 259, 295, 296, 298, 306. 334. 
 
 Coffin, 43, 90, 130, 131, 225, 326. 
 
 Coins, 301. 
 
 Cold, 87, 104, 243, 316, 349, 350. 
 
 Colic, 305. 
 
 Collection. 347. 
 
 Colonel, 327, 342. 
 
 Colonists, 310. 
 
 Colt, 301, 302. 
 
 Columbine, 119. 
 
 Comedies, ix, 311. 
 
 Commune, 255, 260, 270. 
 
 Communion, 215, 258, 329. 
 
 Community, 161, 196. 
 
 Confirmation, 51. 
 
 Conflagration, 217. See Fire. 
 
 Constantinople, 217. 
 
 Constipation, 305. 
 
 Contract, 207, 256, 338. 
 
 Convent, 41. 233, 320, 324, 325. 
 
 Conversion, 233. 
 
 Convolvulus, 251. 
 
 Cook, 278. 
 
 Cook-book, 277. 
 
 Cookery, 352. 
 
 Cooking, 126, 189, 215, 261, 268, 277, 278, 
 
 322. 
 
 Cornflower, 251. 
 
 Costumes, 112, 118, 284, 335, 340. 
 Cottage, 123, 125, 166, 187, 189, 190, 196, 
 
 197, 203, 204, 248, 254, 268, 279, 285, 
 
 286, 292, 293. 
 Cotton, 41, 84, 104, 188, 241-243, 256, 275, 
 
 284, 343. 
 
 Councils, (Ecumenical, 151. 
 Counselor, 272. 
 Count, 272. See Tolstdy. 
 Countess, vi. See Tolstdy. 
 
 213, 215, 219, 221, 224, 227, 228, 230-234, 
 244, 254, 258, 285, 296, 314, 317, 324- 
 329, 333, 346-348, 353, 354. 
 
 Churning, 303, 304. 
 
 Cigarette, 119, 313, 314, 331. 
 
 Cipher, 252. 
 
 City Council, 40. 
 
 City Hall, 38, 40. 
 
 Civilization, 183, 191, 195. 
 
 Court, 23, 26, 30, 42, 45, 57, 59, 92, 103, 
 
 117, 210, 211, 315, 347. 
 Courtyard, 125, 248, 283. 
 Coverlets, 104. 
 
 Cow, 123, 128, 156, 257, 265, 306. 
 Cracknel, 36. 
 Cradle, 126, 226, 257. 
 Cranberry, x. 
 Crash, 257, 268, 269, 2S4. 
 
360 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Crayfish, 268, 274, 298. 
 
 Crazy, 146, 186. 
 
 Cream, 52, 149, 241, 274, 301, 306. 
 
 Creed, 235. 
 
 Crimea, 95, 345. 
 
 Criminals, x. 
 
 Cross, 39, 57, 58, 131, 171, 174, 175, 205, 
 
 210, 216, 227, 228, 232, 244, 254, 269, 
 
 278, 317, 321, 325, 327, 333, 342, 347, 
 
 353. 
 
 Crowd, 58. 
 Crowned, 323. 
 Crown lands, 262. 
 Crown official, 130. 
 Crown serfs, 129. 
 Cry, 319. 
 Cucumbers, 31, 114, 126, 241, 255, 262, 
 
 298. 
 
 Cuirassier, 119. 
 Cup and ball, 210. 
 Cupola, 118, 210. See Dome. 
 Curds, 263. 
 Currants, 110. 
 Custom-House, xi, 1. 
 
 Dahlia, 286. . 
 
 Daisies, 154. 
 
 Dam, 237, 238. 
 
 Damp. See Mother Earth ; Oak. 
 
 Dance, 119, 120, 190, 191, 192, 255. 
 
 Darkness. Power of. See Power. 
 
 Dashboard, 48. 
 
 Dashkoff, Princess, 33. 
 
 Datcha, 27. See Villa. 
 
 Daughter, 157, 163, 190. 
 
 Deacon, 79, 213, 321. 
 
 Death, x, 192, 214, 224, 230. 
 
 Debility, 306. 
 
 Decembrists, 176. 
 
 Delaware, 59. 
 
 Delta, 60. 
 
 Democratic, 280, 281. 
 
 Devil, 224. 
 
 Dialect, 233. 
 
 Diamonds, 14, 18, 217. 
 
 Diarrhoea, 305. 
 
 Dickens, 173. 
 
 Dictionary, 240. 
 
 Diet, 304. See Vegetable. 
 
 Digestive, 306. 
 
 Dining, 158, 219. 
 
 Dining-room, 104, 166, 290, 335, 336. 
 
 Dinner, 168. 
 
 Diplomatic, 63. 
 
 Directory, 10. 
 
 Disciple, 179, 180, 182, 197. 
 
 Diuk Stepanovitch, 234. 
 
 Dny^pr, 205, 223, 226, 227, 234. 
 
 Doctor, 197, 305. 
 
 Doctrine, 161, 179, 197, 199, 201, 202. 
 
 Documents, 13, 68, 69, 323. 
 
 Dog, 111. See also Milliner; Milton; 
 
 Officials; Tulip. 
 Doge, 339. 
 
 Dollar, 12, 83, 250, 292. 
 Dome, 28, 205, 210, 228, 229, 241, 311, 
 
 317, 333, 353. 
 
 Dominique, 42. 
 Domna, 128, 130. 
 Domovoi, 29, 266, 267. 
 Dostoevsky, 173. 
 Dough, 194. 
 Dove, 133. 
 Dowries, 120. 
 Drain, 222. 
 Drainage, 338. 
 Drama, 33. 
 Dram-shop, 260. 
 Dressing-gown, 339. 
 Driving, 273. 
 Drozhky, 48, 243. 
 Ducks, 240, 247. 
 Duenna, 336. 
 Dumas, Alexander, x. 
 Dust, 237, 238. 
 Dutch, 26, 43. 
 Dvornik, 11, 15, 40, 60, 85. 
 Dyspepsia, 146. 
 
 Earth Town, 316. 
 
 Earthquakes, 222. 
 
 East, 339. 
 
 Easter, 35, 50-52, 92, 116, 234. 
 
 Edinburgh, Duchess of, 123. 
 
 Edition, 200. 
 
 Eggs, 37, 109, 110, 113, 133, 169, 177, 
 
 241, 248. 
 
 Ekaterinburg, 342. 
 Ekaterinoslaff , 180. 
 Elder, 255. 
 Electric, 46, 246. 
 Elevators, 43. 
 Elijah. See St. Eva. 
 Elizabeth, Empress, 23, 31, 32, 53, 57. 
 Elizaveta Petrovna. See Elizabeth, Em- 
 
 Sress. 
 i,250. 
 
 Elsmere, Robert, 193. 
 Emancipation, 108, 280. 
 Embroidered, 243, 284. 
 Embroiderer, 162. 
 Embroidery, 341. 
 Emperor, 15, 24, 27, 37, 47, 49, 50, 57, 
 
 58, 91, 92, 97-99, 155, 177, 186, 223, 
 
 272. 
 
 Empress, 45, 50, 56, 98, 102, 127, 353. 
 Engine, 48. 
 England, 224. 
 English, viii, ix, 63, 66, 71, 161, 172, 183, 
 
 185, 204, 329, 346. 
 Epic songs, 225, 234, 317. 
 Epilepsy, 306. 
 Epiphany, 57, 92. 
 Equal, 156. 
 Equality, 190. 
 Erysipelas, 197. 
 Estate, 162, 186, 196, 235, 243, 252, 253, 
 
 256, 270, 309. 
 Etiquette, 211, 334. 
 Europe, 206, 218, 235, 254, 339, 352. 
 Ev6 ? 118. 
 Ewer, 339. 
 Exposition, 337. 
 Eyes, vii. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 361 
 
 Fables, viii. 
 
 Fahrenheit. 110,234. 
 
 Fair, 3C>, _':.">. 240, 244, 330-349. 
 
 Famine, 235,308-310. 
 
 Farm, 102, 161, 189, 300. 
 
 Farmyard, 268. 
 
 Fashion, 47. 
 
 Fast, 115,218,273. 
 
 Fat, 272, 276, 278, 299, 304, 305. 
 
 Fattier Treasurer, 212. 
 
 Fedosy. See St. Fed6sy. 
 
 Fees, 4, 10, 12, 18, 68, 69. 
 
 Feet, 45, 286. 
 
 Felt, 141, 239, 274, 279, 280. 
 
 Fergusson, 354. 
 
 Ferment, 303, 304. 
 
 Ferry, 56. 
 
 Festival, 115, 130. 
 
 Fez, 242. 
 
 Field, 157, 159, 198, 252, 256, 257, 265, 
 
 283. 
 
 Finland, 26, 37, 51, 58, 59, 112. 
 Finnish, 22, 92, 101, 252. 
 Fir, 341. 
 
 Fire, 40, 48, 85, 128, 222, 269, 338. 
 Firearms factory, 151. 
 Fish, 30, 38, 44, 218, 241, 271, 277, 278, 
 
 306, 333, 340. 
 Fisherman, 274-281. 
 Flags, 51, 278. 
 Flame, 60, 85, 128, 225. 
 Flat, 154. 
 Flea-catcher, 105. 
 Fleas, 105. 
 Floods, 237. 
 Floors, 85, 104, 334. 
 Flora, 118. 
 
 Flounce, 191,258,300. 
 Flour, 237. 
 Flowers, 123, 131, 154, 166, 251, 295, 339. 
 
 See also Acacia; Forget-me-not ; Lilac / 
 
 etc. 
 
 Folk-songs, 275, 279, 281. 
 Fomitch, 191. 
 Fontanka, 26, 29. 
 Forbidden books, 182. 
 Forest, 113, 167, 176, 192, 203, 220, 221, 
 
 244, 252, 261-263, 265, 292, 293. 
 Forester, 263. 
 Forget-me-not, 119. 
 Fork, 193. 
 
 Fortress, Peter-Paul, 24, 51. 
 Foundling, 318, 319. 
 Fox, 48, 50, 87. 
 France, 223. 
 
 French, 76, 124, 161, 183, 204, 207, 218. 
 Fresco, 209, 210, 213, 214, 224, 229, 230. 
 Frontier, xi, 2. 
 Fruit, 109, 164, 195, 219, 262, 291, 306, 
 
 307,336. 
 Fuel, 31, 203. 
 
 Funeral, 24, 42, 43, 93, 98, 104, 131, 341. 
 Fur, 15, 35, 48, 50, 84, 86, 87, 90, 99, 
 
 112. 
 Furniture, 103, 167, 269, 294. 
 
 Gabgot, 6. 
 
 Gadflies, 262. 
 
 Gall urn, 154. 
 
 Gallantry wares, 111. 
 
 Gallery, v, 213, 215, 223, 229, 341. 
 
 Gallows, x. 
 
 allstones, 306. 
 Galoshes, 45, 96, 137, 347. 
 Galubtchik, 132. 
 Game, 124, 210, 262. 
 Gangrene, 137. 
 Gapgod, 6. 
 Garden, 123, 129, 212, 232, 254. 255, 280, 
 
 286, 315, 316, 342, 343. 
 Garden, Fish, 30, 115. 
 Garden, Summer, 26, 54, 57, 121. 
 Garden Street, Great, 34. 
 Gardeners, 124. 
 Gas, 323. 
 
 Gate, 157, 251, 270, 320, 325. 
 Gate, Imperial, 214, 217. 
 Gatschina, 101. 
 
 Gendarmes, xi, 2, 91, 94, 96-99. 
 General, 58, 91. 
 Geneva, 75. 
 Genrut, 9. 
 Gentian, 264. 
 Gentleman, 205. 
 Geography, 224, 311, 353. 
 George. See St. George. 
 George Eliot, 173. 
 George Sand, 173. 
 Gepgud, 6. 
 German, viii, 8, 15, 16, 53, 85, 127, 149, 
 
 335. 
 
 Germany, 68, 127, 223. 
 Giant Steps, 124, 190. 
 Gingham, 340. 
 Girdle, 47, 257, 273. 
 Glass, 84, 225, 247. 
 Goat, 36, 87. 
 
 God, ix, 127, 249, 252, 260, 327, 344. 
 Godchild, 232. 
 Godfather, 232. 
 Godmother, 231, 232. 
 Gogol, 208. 
 Goldenrod, 264. 
 Goods, 336. 
 Gooseberries, 114. 
 Gorode-tz, 350, 352. 
 Gostinnitza, 103. 
 Gostinny Dvor, 35, 38, 102, 111, 337, 
 
 338. 
 
 Gourmet, 278. 
 Government, ix. 
 Governor, 238, 333, 337. 
 Gradskaya Duma, 40. 
 Grain, 251, 252, 256, 258, 265, 283, 308. 
 Grainfield, 235, 273, 282. 
 Grammar, 239. 
 Granary, 235, 270. 
 Grand Duchess, 94. 98, 124. 
 Grand Duke, 43, 46, 124. 
 Grand Prince, 222, 229. 
 Granite, 26, 27, 51,59. 
 Grapes, 59, 114, 291, 333. 
 Grave, 184, 185. 
 Graveyard, 131. See also Cemetery. 
 
362 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Greece, 124. 
 
 Greek, 75, 209, 346. 
 
 Greek patriarchs, 138. 
 
 Greenland, 41. 
 
 Gresser, General, 4, 48, 93. 
 
 Grilled, 276, 278. 
 
 Grove, 255. 
 
 Guard, 324, 330. 
 
 Guards, 58, 94, 98, 99, 117, 121, 211. 
 
 Guest, 35, 92. 
 
 Guide-book, 150, 350, 351. 
 
 Guides, viii, 14, 226, 227. 
 
 Guillotine, 183. 
 
 Guitar, 190, 272. 
 
 Gull, 244. 
 
 Gymnasia, 122. 
 
 Gymnastic, 121, 122. 
 
 Haggard, Rider, 171. 
 
 Hair, 41, 188, 211, 214, 215, 226, 256, 266, 
 
 286, 300, 318, 321. 
 Hall, 166. 
 
 Hall porter. See Swiss. 
 Halter, 278. 
 Ham, 298. 
 
 Handkerchief, 39, 112. 
 Happiness, 192. 
 Hare, 262. 
 Harebell, 264. 
 
 Harness, 48, 100, 248, 250, 252. 
 Harvest, 182, 217, 251, 256, 273, 308-309, 
 
 310. 
 
 Hat, 44, 211, 252, 273. 
 Hay, 250, 255. 
 Hayfield, 164, 168, 244. 
 Haying, 235, 256. 
 Haymarket, 38. 
 Health, 216. 
 Heart, 306, 311, 326. 
 Heat, 251, 252, 253, 305, 350. 
 Heaven, ix, 127, 192, 322. 
 Hedge, 255. 
 Helmsman, 243. 
 Hemp, 254, 274. 
 Hercules, 117. 
 Heretic, 322. 
 
 Heroes, 225, 234. See Bogatyri.. 
 Hetman. See Mazeppa. 
 Hill, 221, 244, 251, 273, 300, 318, 333, 
 
 343. 
 
 Hive, 262. 
 
 Holy City, 203, 206, 234, 326, 327. 
 Holy Gate, 209. 
 Holy Ghost, 25. 
 Holy Mother, 311. 
 Holy Russia, 90, 311, 326. 
 Holy war, 238. 
 Holy water, 321. 
 Homespun, 215. 
 Honey, 115, 262. 
 Hopedale, 161. 
 Horn, 257. 
 Horse, 
 
 60, 82, 83, 99, 106, 142, 
 150, 156, 169, 204, 236, 237, 247-249, 
 250, 262, 264-266, 273, 281, 283, 316, 
 320-322, 347. 
 Horse-cars, 25, 316. 
 
 Horseflesh, 106, 297. 
 
 Horseradish, 298. 
 
 Horse-thieves, 270. 
 
 Hospodi pomilui, 238. 
 
 Hosudar, 95. 
 
 Hotel, 77, 101, 103, 141, 151, 206, 207, 
 
 232, 271, 293, 295, 329, 334. 
 Hours, 329. 
 
 House, 25, 84, 312, 313. 
 House-sprite, 29. 
 Howells, Mr., 174. 
 Hungary, 224. 
 Hussars, 117, 119. 
 
 Ice, 28, 57, 269. 
 
 Ideal, 192. 
 
 Ikona, 39, 51, 128, 220, 224, 225, 232, 
 
 325, 341. See also Image. 
 Ikonostas, 51, 209, 215, 219. 
 Ilarion, 221 , 226. 
 Ilya of Murom, 225, 234. 
 Image, 35, 39, 51, 126, 189, 209, 217, 223, 
 
 230, 232, 251 , 269. See Ikdna. 
 Imperial sceptre, 205. 
 Incendiaries, 270. 
 Incorruptible, 225. 
 Incubator, 318. 
 India, 346. 
 Infections, 206. 
 Inferiors, 281. 
 Influence, 270, 323, 325. 
 Ingermaunland, 132. 
 Ink, 62. 
 Inn, 217-219. 
 Insect, 197. 
 Institution, 318, 328. 
 Intoning, 230. 
 Inundation, 26, 51. 
 Invasion, French, 217. 
 Invitation, 68. 
 Irish, 313. 
 Iron, 244, 340. 
 Ironclad, 93. 
 Ironing, 269. 
 
 Isaac, 232. See also St. Isaac. 
 Iskra, 219. 
 Islands, 42, 60. 
 Italian, 27. 
 Ivan, 80, 169, 216. 
 Ivan the Terrible, vii, 52. 
 Ivan VI., 53. 
 Iversky, 320, 321. 
 Izba. See Cottage. 
 Izvostchik, 46, 48, 60, 82, 95, 99, 127, 
 
 152, 154, 181, 190, 237, 291, 311, 312, 
 
 314, 318, 321, 322, 343, 344. 
 
 Jacob's ladder, ix, 272. 
 Jealousy, 188. 
 Jerusalem, 219. 
 Jew, 179, 230-233, 330. 
 Jewels, 51. 
 Jewess, 231. 
 Johnny, 46. 
 Jordan, the, 57, 59, 92. 
 Judge, 342. 
 Jupiter, 190. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 363 
 
 Kaftan, 14.", 237. 
 
 K.ilumvk, -J'.t2. 
 K.naa, '-'It. 
 Kami>euhausen, 27. 
 
 Kailir:il-00, 194. 
 
 K-iri Ivanovitch, 160. 
 
 Kitlit'i-inel., 102. 
 
 Kath.-rine II., 24, 31-33, 58, 102, 119, 
 
 318, 320. 
 
 Katlierine Institute, 27. 
 Kiitiusha, 108, 132. 
 
 Kii/sik, 31, 49, 52, 88, 91, 138, 209, 266. 
 K.I/ MI, 5, 47, 51, 235-237, 239, 241, 250, 
 
 271,301,331,332,340. 
 K.'iman, Mr., 62. 
 Kerchief, 112, 144, 168, 188-190, 216, 242, 
 
 266. 
 
 Keys, 51. 
 Khalat, 339. 
 Kliarashc), 247. 
 Kholstomir, 150. 
 Kiiikhta, 338, 340. 
 Kieff, 154, 203-234. 
 Kievlyanin, 224. 
 Kirghiz, 304. 
 Kisel, 318. 
 
 Kiss of peace, 346, 347. 
 Kissing, 211, 212, 227, 228. 
 Kittens, 277. 
 Kladderadatsch, 62. 
 Kliukva, x. 
 Klobiik, 39, 211, 213. 
 Klodt, Baron, 25. 
 Klubnika, 113, 306. 
 Knife, 215. 
 
 Kokoshnik, 45, 121, 318. 
 Kolomna, 227. 
 Kopek, 4, 10, 17, 18, 29, 69, 72, 81, 110, 
 
 134, 135, 140, 143, 145, 153, 204, 243, 
 
 326, 342. 
 Kotchubey, 219. 
 Kovsh, 39. 
 Krasnoe Selo, 124. 
 Kremlin, 151, 235-237, 257, 314, 333, 337, 
 
 342. 
 
 Krestchatik, 207. 
 Kreutzer Sonata, 196. 
 Kronstadt, 56. 
 Kulak, 254. 
 Kumatch, 189. 
 Kumys, 288-310. 
 Kuni, 87. 
 Kutuzoff, 50. 
 Kuzmino, 124, 125. 
 Kvas, 1G9, 220, 297. 
 
 Labor, 199. 
 
 Labor Union, 29. 
 
 Lace, 341. 
 
 Lackey, 13, 49, 89, 96, 190. 
 
 Lake, 118. 
 
 Lamb, 335. 
 
 Lamp, 39, 79, 217, 225. 
 
 Lamp-post, 92. 
 
 Landing, 244. 
 
 Landlord, 5, 11, 78, 107. 
 
 Language, 61, 71, 264. 
 
 Landyshee, 113. 
 Lftntern.66, 60, 210. 
 
 Laplander, 57. 
 
 Larkspur, 251. 
 
 Lanurh, <J3. 
 
 Laundress, 313. 
 
 Lavra, 23, 208, 220. 
 
 Law, 176, 249. 
 
 Law School, 36. 
 
 Lawn, 119, 190, 255. 
 
 Lay brethren, 212. 
 
 Lay sisters, 39. 
 
 Lazarus, 225. 
 
 Laziness, 198. 
 
 Leak, 276. 
 
 Leather, 236, 242, 273, 301, 340, 347. 
 
 Ledger, 68. 
 
 Legation, American, 10, 74. 
 
 Leipzig, 75. 
 
 Lemon, 296, 306. 
 
 Lenten, 97. 
 
 L6shi, 264. 
 
 Letters, 7. 
 
 Levin, 160. 
 
 Liberty, 172, 173. 
 
 Library, 34, 70, 122, 155. 
 
 License, 67. 
 
 Lieutenant, 272. 
 
 Life, 66. 
 
 Likatchi, 99. . 
 
 Lilacs, 116, 157. 
 
 Lilies, 113, 260. 
 
 Linden, 144, 161, 166, 167, 257, 270, 278. 
 
 Line. See Lineika. 
 
 Lineika, 169, 203, 271, 272, 283. 
 
 Linen, 113, 122, 133, 158, 188, 241, 242, 
 
 256, 268, 294, 328, 353. 
 Liquor, 102. 
 Literary, 12. 
 Literature, 61. 
 Lithuanian, 210. 
 Little bird, 266. 
 Little boy, 266. 
 Little Russia, 31, 114, 203-205, 209, 233, 
 
 Liturgy, 51, 115, 213, 329. 
 
 Liver, 146, 197, 306. 
 
 Lives, 220. 
 
 Lodgings, 4, 11,211. 
 
 Log Chouses, 25, 187, 189, 251, 267,268, 
 
 Lombardy. See Poplar. 
 Lomonosoff, 6. 
 Lomovoi, 29. 
 London, 62, 70. 
 Looking Backward, 192. 
 Loom, 269. 
 Lord, 226, 238. 
 Lord Chancellor, 67. 
 Love, 189. 
 Luck, 150, 260. 
 Luggage, 241, 250, 286. 
 Lukerya, 258, 259. 
 Lumber-yard, 31, 292, 293. 
 Lungs, 305, 306. 
 Lutheran, 9, 44, 327. 
 Luxury, 193. 
 
364 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Lyceum, 36, 116. 
 Lye, 302. 
 
 Madame. 80. 
 
 Magazine, 63, 71, 74. 
 
 Maid, 107, 191. 258. 
 
 Makary, 336. 
 
 Mangling, 269. 
 
 Manure, 113, 203, 254, 269. 
 
 Manuscript, 68, 196. 
 
 Mare, 239, 298, 299, 301-308. 
 
 Market, 35, 38, 111, 211, 236, 257, 267, 
 
 308, 309, 315. 
 Market, Louse, 143, 145. 
 Market, Pushing, 143, 145. 
 Mark Tapley, 173. 
 Marriage, 174, 175, 179, 180, 269. 
 Married women, 187. 
 Martin Chuzzlewit, 173. 
 Martyrs, 315. 
 Masque noir, 61. 
 
 Mass, 57, 130, 185, 228. See also Liturgy. 
 Massage, 268. 
 Mast, 121, 124. 
 Mastic, 84. 
 Matchmaker, 120. 
 Matins, 216. 
 
 Matushka, 145, 234, 235, 343. 
 Mazeppa, 209, 219. 
 Meadow, 192. 
 
 Meat, 144, 219. See also Beef. 
 Medal, 231, 301. 
 Medicine, 259. 
 Melilot, 154. 
 Melodies, 194. 
 Merchant, 35, 79, 80, 105, 108, 110, 118, 
 
 138, 144, 223, 224, 233, 236, 279, 337, 
 
 341, 342. 
 
 Metropolitan, 23, 57, 58, 219, 221, 326. 
 Mikado, 108. 
 Mik^shin, 33. 
 Mikhtf, 104, 105, 298. 
 Militia, 91. 
 Milk, 125, 177, 218, 269, 296, 298, 299, 
 
 301-304. 
 
 Milk-bottle, 257. 
 Milkmaid, 302. 
 Mill, 245, 254, 258. 
 Millet, 251. 
 Milliner, 262, 271. 
 Milton, 262, 271. 
 Mines, 244. 
 
 Minister, 93, 151, 184, 271. 
 Ministry, 58, 59. 
 Minsk, 230-233. 
 Misha, 263. 
 Missionary, 201. 
 Mitre, 57. 
 
 Modistka, 262. See Milliner. 
 Moika, 52, 54. 
 Molodyetz, 312. 
 Monastery, 23, 25, 28, 39, 41, 138, 205, 
 
 208, 209, 212-214, 216-219, 222, 223, 
 
 226-228, 233, 320, 324, 353. 
 Monk, 39, 51, 54, 209, 211-212, 214, 215, 
 
 218-223, 226-228. 
 Monument, 33, 50, 58, 131. 
 
 Moon, 190, 279, 282, 283. 
 
 Moorish, 293. 
 
 Moose, 262. 
 
 Mordviuian, 263, 264. 
 
 Mormon, 172, 173. 
 
 Mosaic, 230. 
 
 Moscow, vii, 17,19, 27, 35, 51, 63, 70-72, 
 
 88, 92, 106, 134, 144, 146, 149, 162, 184, 
 
 227, 236, 257, 271, 305, 311-329, 333, 337, 
 
 339, 340, 348, 355. 
 Moslem, 238. 
 Mosque, 237, 315, 347. 
 Moss, 268, 292, 317. 
 Mother, 206, 222. 
 Mother Earth, Damp, 234. 
 Mourning, 189. 
 Mowing, 159. 
 Muezzin, 347. 
 Mollah, 348. 
 Mullein, 205. 
 Munchausen, Baron, 15. 
 Murder, 183, 185, 195. 
 Murman, 38. 
 Murom. See Ilya. 
 Muscovy, 314. 
 
 Museum, Moscow Historical, viii. 
 Mushrooms, 115, 134, 168, 218, 241, 256, 
 
 260, 261, 263. 
 Music, v, 230, 258, 332, 346. See also 
 
 Singing ; Song. 
 Mussulman, 348. 
 Muzhik, 40, 57, 104, 141, 271. 
 
 Names, 314. 
 
 Nantucket, 317. 
 
 Napoleon I., viii, 32. 
 
 Natalya Ilinitchna, 191. 
 
 National, 122. 
 
 Naval, 306. 
 
 Naval Academy, 245. 
 
 Navy, 245, 272. 
 
 Necklace, 300. 
 
 Negroes, 332. 
 
 Nekrasoff, 173. 
 
 Net, 48, 121, 278. 
 
 Nettles, 268. 
 
 Neva, 22, 24, 30, 31, 49, 54, 55, 84, 92. 
 
 Ne"vsky Prospect, vii, 22-60, 92. 
 
 New England, 102, 300. 
 
 Newspapers, 41, 64, 75, 183, 184. 
 
 New Year, 92. 
 
 New York, 62, 65, 70, 91, 231, 315. 
 
 Niagara, 241. 
 
 Niche, 222. 
 
 Nicholas I., 32, 58, 176, 272. 
 
 Nicholas II., 92. 
 
 Nightingale, 234, 331. 
 
 Nights, 30, 118, 246. 
 
 Nihilism, 64. 
 
 Nikon, 138. 
 
 Nitchevo, 65, 104. 
 
 Nizhni Novgorod, 149, 235, 244, 290, 330- 
 
 349. 
 
 Nobility, 53, 129, 163. 
 Noble, 205, 254, 280, 281, 285, 344. 
 Nogai Tartars, 292. 
 Nose-bleed, 305. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 3G5 
 
 Novels, 7G. 
 
 Novgorod (Old), 22, 30, 205. 
 
 Novo-Dyevitche, 42. 
 
 Numbers, 313. 
 
 Nun, 40, 51, 227, 296, 325, 326. 
 
 Nurses, 45, 121, 100, 318. 
 
 Nyeiu<$tzky, 223. 
 
 Oak, 117, 154. 
 
 Oak, damp, 234. 
 
 Oats, 251, 205, 308. 
 
 Octagon, 210. 
 
 Officer, 44, 48, 99, 184, 211, 241, 245, 266, 
 
 334. 
 
 Official, 182, 251, 323, 324. 
 Officials, 5, 41, G4, 07, 72, 73, 82, 130, 271. 
 Oil, 216, 218, 227. 
 Oka, 149, 333, 340, 343. 
 Oldenburg, 32. 
 Oleg, 205. 
 Onion, 113, 298. 
 Opera, 120. 
 Orchard, 222. 
 Order, 44, 231. 
 Orenburg, 36, 45, 291. 
 Organs, v, 230. 
 Organists, v. 
 Oriental, 236, 339, 340. 
 Orloff, 24, 48. 
 
 Orthodox, 153, 211, 228, 238, 327, 329. 
 Osip, 261, 271, 282. 
 Ostrovsky, 79, 286. 
 Ot(5tz kaznatch&, 212. 
 Oven, 126, 189, 198, 267-269, 282, 292. 
 Overcoat, 44, 122. 
 Overland, 338, 340. 
 Overshoes, 89. See Galoshes. 
 Oxen, 282. 
 Oysters, 44. 
 
 Paddle, 269. 
 
 Pads, 47. 
 
 Pagan, 285. 
 
 Pages' Corps, 36. 
 
 Palace, 94, 97, 102, 121, 124, 213, 221, 234, 
 
 269. 
 Palace, Anitohkoff, 26-28, 31, 49, 58, 92, 
 
 315. 
 Palace, Winter, 24, 32, 50, 53, 57, 59, 92, 
 
 99, 116-118, 122. 
 Palace, Michael, 95. 
 Pall, 42. 
 
 Palms, 37. See Pussy Willows. 
 Palm Sunday, 36, 123, 269. 
 Pan, 126. 
 Pane, 84. 
 Papert, 214. 
 Parade, 94. 
 Paris, 183. 
 Parish, 314. 
 
 Park, 32, 91, 103, 117, 127, 157, 167, 208. 
 Paskha, 37. 
 
 Passport, 1, 16, 19, 182, 344. 
 Passport office, 12, 15. 
 Pastils, 36. 
 Pasture, 298, 299. 
 Patriarch, 138, 326. 
 
 Paul I. (Pavel Petrovitch), 24. 
 
 feace doctrine, 161. 
 
 Peace, War and. See War and Peace. 
 
 Peaches, 336. 
 
 Peacock, 273, 340. 
 
 Peanut, 273. 
 
 Pears, 114. 
 
 Peasant, 13, 30, 54, 60, 85, 111, 122, 125, 
 128, 159, 162, 163, 171, 177, 179-181, 
 189, 190, 197, 198, 204, 211, 215, 216, 
 220, 228, 242, 247, 252, 257, 259, 261, 
 265, 268, 270, 274, 280, 281, 285, 292, 
 310, 319, 351, 352. 
 
 Peddler, 133, 237, 238, 240. 
 
 Pelisse, 242, 253. 
 
 Pen, 62. 
 
 Pentecost, 115. 
 
 Perfume, 244. 
 
 Persia, 56, 88, 91. 
 
 Periin, 258. 
 
 P(5ski, 54. 
 
 Peter I. (Great), 23, 26, 52, 55, 102, 138, 
 163, 219, 222, 257, 272, 279, 311. 
 
 Peter HI., 23. 
 
 Peterhoff, 91, 99, 101, 107. 
 
 Peter and Paul's day, 187. 
 
 Peter-Paul fortress, 24. 
 
 Petroleum, 241. 
 
 Petticoat, 3, 188, 189, 258. 300. 
 
 Pews, v. 
 
 Philosopher, 156, 238. 
 
 Photographer, 345, 346. 
 
 Photographs, 20, 285, 345. 
 
 Physician, 293. See Doctor. 
 
 Piano, 167, 334, 335. 
 
 Picnic, 263, 271,283. 
 
 Picture, holy. See Ikona. 
 
 Pigeons, 25, 50. 
 
 Pilgrim, 152, 153, 176, 185, 217, 218, 226, 
 28, 326, 327. 
 
 Pilgrimage, 206, 216. 
 
 Pillow, 241, 294. 
 
 Pine, 203, 261, 263. 
 
 Pinks, 265. 
 
 Piotr, 274-281. 
 
 Pipe-bowls, 339. 
 
 Pistol, 282. 
 
 Pitcher, 295. See Ewer. 
 
 Plague, 270. 
 
 Plain, 252. 
 
 Plants, 84, 104, 285. 
 
 Playground, 121. 
 
 Pletuschka, 250. 
 
 Plot, 93. 
 
 Plow, 283. 
 
 Plum, 114, 291. 
 
 Plumber, 231. 
 
 Plume-grass, 208, 299, 305. 
 
 Pocket, 284. 
 
 Podol, 211. 
 
 Poet, 205. See Lomondsoff. 
 
 Poker, 6, 205. 
 
 Poland, 114, 209, 327, 328. 
 
 Poles, 222. 
 
 Police, 1, 7, 9, 14, 18, 46, 91, 94, 95, 98, 
 152, 347. 
 
 Police, chief of, 7. 
 
366 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Police office, 16, 17, 20, 66, 208, 246, 326, 
 
 344, 345. 
 Polish, 210. 
 Pond, 1G7, 191. 
 Pope, 209. 
 Poplar, 205. 
 Poppies, 115. 
 Poppy-seeds, 234. 
 Porcelain, 339. 
 Porter, 332. See also Yard Porter; 
 
 Dv6rnik. 
 Portrait, 285. 
 
 Post-boy, 246-248, 252. See Yamtschik. 
 Post-house, 152, 247, 274. 
 Post-office, 1, 6-21. 
 Pot, 126, 268, 269. 
 Potato, 123, 218, 307. 
 Pote^nkin. 32, 34. 
 Pottery, 354. 
 Poverty, 200. 
 Power of Darkness, 185. 
 Pravoslavny, 214, 231, 234. See Orthodox. 
 Prayer, 39, 42, 57, 117, 128, 131, 177, 178, 
 
 214-216, 219, 251, 269, 278, 320, 324, 
 
 326, 331, 347. 
 Prefect, 4, 8, 48. 
 
 Price, 29, 77, 78, 88, 308, 309, 316, 334. 
 Priest, 41, 138, 228, 231, 232, 262, 263, 
 
 285, 321, 326. 
 Primogeniture, 163. 
 Prince, 22, 23, 30-33, 181, 186, 205, 213, 
 
 218, 221, 222, 230, 234, 249, 250, 256, 
 
 314, 315, 317, 323, 324, 342. 
 Princess, 33, 78, 329. 
 Printing, 211. 
 Prisoners, 155, 184. 
 Prisons, 34, 135. 
 Profession, 344. 
 Propaganda, 183. 
 Property, 196, 199, 200. 
 Proprietor, 204, 252, 256. 
 Proscribed, 64. 
 Prosfora, 215, 216. 
 Protestants, 230, 327. 
 Provincial assemblies, 280. 
 Provisions, 84, 273. 
 Pse-tz, 87. 
 Publisher, 195. 
 Punch, 62. 
 Purgatory, 224. 
 Purity, 225. 
 Pushkin, 116. 
 Pussy willow, 36, 123, 269. 
 
 Quays, 29, 49, 57. 
 
 Raccoon, 44. 
 
 Race, viii, 316, 
 
 Rac-ing-gig, 272. 
 
 R'ulish, 114. 
 
 Rail, 31. 
 
 Railway, 102, 293, 336, 355. 
 
 Rain, 84, 349. 
 
 R linfall, 308. 
 
 Raisins, 113, 340. 
 
 R inks, table of, ix, 272. 
 
 Raspberries, 110, 186, 241, 244. 
 
 Rastrelli, 31, 52. 
 
 Rat, Siberian, 89. 
 
 Rawhide, 338. 
 
 Razumovsky, 31. 
 
 Ready-made, 273. 
 
 Reaping, 256. 
 
 Red Forest, 263, 293. 
 
 Reef, 243. 
 
 Refectory, 219. 
 
 Regiment, 94, 184. 
 
 Registration, 4. 
 
 Reindeer, 23, 28, o7. 
 
 Relay, 249, 253. 
 
 Religion, v, 230, 232 
 
 Religions, 175, 176. 
 
 Remembrance, eternal, 214. 
 
 Re"pin, 159. 
 
 Restaurant, 41, 297. 
 
 Resurrection, 315. 
 
 Revolutionary, 183. 
 
 Rheumatism, 259. 
 
 Rhitiowa, 22. 
 
 Rick-yard, 283. 
 
 Ritual, 138. See Mass; Liturgy. 
 
 Ritualists, Old, 347. See Believers, Old. 
 
 Robber, 234. 
 
 Robe, 211. 
 
 Rock-crystal, 59. 
 
 Rolling-pin, 269. 
 
 Roman Catholic, 325, 327, 347. 
 
 , Romanoff, 186. 
 
 Rome, 209. 
 
 Rope, 250, 257, 268, 278, 284, 292. 
 
 Rosary, 337, 338, 341. 
 
 Rows, 337, 338, 341. 
 
 Ruble, 135, 197, 207, 338. 
 
 Rug, 85, 210-212, 233, 263, 264, 278, 279. 
 334. 
 
 Rurik, 30. 
 
 Russia. See Little Russia; South Rus- 
 sia. 
 
 Rybinsk, 274, 353. 
 
 Rye, 168, 251, 282, 308. 
 
 Saari, 102. 
 
 Sable, 36, 87. 
 
 Sack, 258, 300. 
 
 Sacramental, 216. 
 
 Sailor, 55, 118, 121. 
 
 Saint, 209, 210, 216, 219, 220, 225, 227, 
 
 230, 251 , 314, 322, 325, 326. 
 St. Alexander Ne" vsky, 23, 30. 
 St. Antony, 221, 223, 225, 227. 
 St. Fedosy, 214, 221, 226. 
 St. George, 44, 92, 315. 
 St. Ilya, 128, 258. See also Ilya of 
 
 Murom. 
 St. Isaac, 51, 29. 
 St. John, 225, 314, 315. 
 St. Makary, 336, 338. 
 St. Nicholas, 232, 314, 315. 
 St. Pantale-imon, 321, 322. 
 St. Patrick, 91. 
 St. Peter, 50. 
 
 St. Peter and Paul, 24, 115. 
 St. Petersburg, vli, 2, 17, 18, 22, 51, 56, 
 
 61, 63, 66, 70-72, 74, 85, 91, 98, 99, 
 
INDEX. 
 
 367 
 
 305, 
 
 St. Sergiusj 321. 
 St. .s .,,|,ia, 228. 
 
 LJ . I ' i 
 
 t- VasU,, ... 
 
 St. Veronica, 39. 
 
 St. Vladimir. 213. 221. 229 
 
 Salmon, 298. 
 
 Salt, 84. 
 
 Samara, 273, 289-292. 
 
 Samarcaml, 2;>3. 
 
 , . 
 
 ture, s, 14, 18, 323, 324 
 
 | Kin, 116, 21 
 I Bind bad, 3. 
 
 279, 
 
 Sample, 338. 
 
 S.iiiigou, 107. 
 
 S .in.l, 54, 84. See George Sana. 
 
 Sandbank, 240, 276, 290. 
 
 SaiuLspit, 277, 338, 340. 
 
 Sanitary, 286, 338. 
 
 Sarpink'a, 340. 
 
 Saviour, 39, 139, 221, 321 
 
 Saytchas, 240, 243, 249. 
 
 Sbiten, 144. 
 
 Scheremt5tieff, 28. 
 
 School, 130, 165, 176, 266, 318. 
 
 School, Sunday, 165. 
 
 Schoolboy, 41. 
 
 Schoolhouse, 254. 
 
 Scum, 278. 
 
 Scurvy, 306. 
 
 Sea, 245, 252. 
 
 Seal, 63. 
 
 Sealskin, 86. 
 
 Season, 294. 
 
 Secretary, 184. 
 
 Sseds, 119. 
 
 Seed-corn, 265. 
 
 Seraph, 28, 51, 210. 
 
 Serf, 5, 108, 129, 254, 260, 266. 
 
 Serf, crown, 12'J. 
 
 Serfdom, 233, 280. 
 
 Sergiei, Grand Duke, 27, 28 
 
 Sermon, 51. 
 
 ^Wofshfa' See MaSS '' Litur 9lf : Ritual 
 
 Sewer, 207,' 217. 
 
 Sewing-machines, 285. 
 
 Shakers, 174, 175. 
 
 Sharpshooters, 118 
 
 Shawl, 36, 39, 45, 339. 
 
 She, 172. 
 
 Sheep, 282. 
 
 Sheep-dog, 45, 335. 
 
 Sheepskin, 40, 47, 144, 189, 215, 242. See 
 
 Sheets, 104, 112, 246. 
 
 Shepherd, 132 
 
 Shibboleth, 6. 
 
 Sll 2 i g' 47 ' 145 > 171, 242, 250, 256, 275, 
 
 Shoes, 257, 270. 
 
 Shrine, 176, 217, 225, 326, 327. 
 
 Shuba, 36, 48, 96, 101. ' 
 
 . 
 
 [Singers, 119, 214, 335. 
 Singing, 213, 296. 312. 
 Skates, 57. 
 Skating, 28. 
 Skull, 225, 227, 228. 
 
 Sleep, 189 
 
 blushaiu's, 96, 
 
 Smoking, 338. 
 
 Snobbishness, 146 
 
 Snow, 46, 48, 50, 84 
 
 Soap, 239. 
 
 Socialists, 179. 
 
 Soldiers, 44, 119, 184, 266, 331 
 
 ' ' 
 
 ' ^ 279 ' 
 
 Soul, 216, 224. 
 Soul-warmers, 45. 
 
 ISh^cl 18 ' 271 ' 277 ' 278 ' 28 '- 
 
 Spear, 215. 
 Spice, 144, 277. 
 Spice-cakes, 350, 351. 
 Spies, 14. 
 
 pire, 50, 102, 210, 229 
 
 piraea, 154. 
 
 pirits, 115. 
 
 ponsors, 231,233. 
 Spoon, 193, 216, 269. 
 
 prmg, 60, 86, 101, 237, 250, 257 
 
 S,n9 e ' 127 ' 217 ' 245 ' m ' 
 
 table, 161, 255. 
 tamp, 17, 21, 69, 72 
 tar, 28, 210. 
 tarchy, 305. 
 
 
 e"nka Raziu, 279. 
 Jepniak, 64 
 
 Sickles, 2oV! 
 
 Ste 
 
 *3-*.^v, A. ij., z.iu i\y. 
 
 eward, 254. 266. 
 ewardess, 351, 353. 
 Stirrup, 47, 250. 
 
 . 
 
 Stove, 85. 
 
 Strada, 257. See Suffering. 
 
 Strangers, 346. W 
 
 Strap, 48. 
 
 Straw, 248, 249, 254, 268, 283. 
 
368 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Strawberry, 110, 133, 161, 305, 306, 317. 
 
 Stroganoff, 52. 
 
 StryHki, 118, 119. 
 
 Stucco, 25, 291. 
 
 Studena, 44. 
 
 Student, 179, 182. 
 
 Studieff , 214. 
 
 Study, 195. 
 
 Sudarynya, 80, 110, 224. 
 
 Suffering season, 198. See Stradd. 
 
 Sugar, 298. 
 
 Sumach, 205. 
 
 Sumbeka, 237. 
 
 Summer, 60, 69, 91, 101, 148, 206, 213, 
 
 260, 330, 334. 
 Sun, 41. 
 Sun, Fair, 234. 
 Sunday, 116, 145, 284, 346. 
 Sunflower, 119, 218, 273, 282. 
 Superstitions, 285. 
 Suzdal, 138. 
 Swaddling, 319. 
 Swing, x. 
 
 Swiss, 52, 96, 98, 312, 314. 
 Syeunaya Ploshtschad, 38. 
 Symbolic, 215. 
 Symbols, 25. 
 Synagogue, 327. 
 
 Tableaux, 97. 
 
 Tales, 155, 157, 158, 181. 
 
 Tapers. See Candles. 
 
 Tarautas, 250. 
 
 Taras Bulba, 208. 
 
 Taster, 299. 
 
 Tatar, viii, 3, 43, 52, 106, 108, 145, 222, 
 236, 237, 239-242, 284, 285, 292, 297, 299, 
 301, 305, 315, 331, 340, 342, 347. 
 
 Tatar beauty, 299. 
 
 Tatiana, 191, 216. 
 
 Tax, 52. 
 
 Tchernigoff, 221, 234. 
 
 Tchernitzi, 39. 
 
 Tchernozyom, 203. See Black Earth. 
 
 Tchiuovinki, 263. 
 
 Tchuvashi, 251, 264, 284, 286. 
 
 Tea, 3, 110, 157, 161, 164, 167, 187, 191, 
 216, 240, 247, 268, 279, 285, 296, 301, 
 306, 313, 314, 331, 338, 340, 342, 343. 
 
 Tea-cloth, 241. 
 
 Tea-kettle, 215. 
 
 Tea-money, 130, 157, 213, 238 253, 274, 
 282. 
 
 Teapot, 247, 285. 
 
 Teat, 257. 
 
 Te Deum, 95. 
 
 Teeth, 187, 300. 
 
 Telegram, 68. 
 
 Telegraph, 250. 
 
 Telyt5ga, 257, 261, 264. 
 
 Tent, 278. 
 
 Termalama, 340. 
 
 Teutonic order, 22. 
 
 Thackeray, 173. 
 
 Thatch, 248, 251, 268, 269. 
 
 Thfintre, 33, 34, 53, 56, 67, 88, 120, 352, 
 353. 
 
 i The ft, 261. 
 Theological, 322. 
 Thermometer, 140, 141, 164, 316. 
 Thibet, 48, 87. 
 Thou, 281. 
 Thunder, 258. 
 Thunderstorm, 276, 286. 
 Tile, 85. 
 Titles, 144, 342. 
 Tolerance, 43. 
 Tolstoy, 66, 122, 134, 148-204, 235, 236, 
 
 253, 255, 351. 
 
 Tolstoy, Countess, 136, 148-204. 
 Tomb, 209. 
 Toothache, 305. 
 Towel, 104, 220, 268, 276, 282. 
 Tow-path, 281, 288. 
 Toys, 37. 
 Trade, 344. 
 Train, 149, 203, 206. 
 Traktir, 103, 106, 108. 
 Tramp, 152. 
 Tramway, 45. 
 Transfiguration, 114, 262. 
 Trap, 105. 
 Traveler, vii, viii, 12, 13, 60, 103, 205, 218, 
 
 243, 315, 318, 337. 
 Treasury, 323. 
 Trickery, 249, 340. 
 Trinity, 115, 315, 322. 
 Troika, 49, 56, 152, 251, 272. 
 Troitzky, 28. 
 Trousers, 133, 141, 158, 242, 269, 275, 
 
 285. 
 
 Trunk, 241. 
 
 Tula, 138, 148, 149, 155, 157. 
 Tulip, 283. 
 
 Tuliip, 40, 47, 140, 242. . 
 Turanian, 242, 284. 
 Turban, 347. 
 Turgenetf, 181, 256. 
 Turkey, 138, 238. 
 Turkish, 118, 120, 177, 252. 
 Turks, 236. 
 Types, 337. 
 
 Tzar, 22, 52, 60, 272, 311, 314. 
 Tzare"vitch, 124. 
 Tzarskoe Sela, 99, 101, 132. 
 
 Ufa, 292. 
 
 Ukha, 271, 278. 
 
 Umbrella, 50, 253, 263, 307. 
 
 Underclothing, 86. 
 
 Undiscovered Country, 174. 
 
 Uniates, 209. 
 
 Uniform, 41, 91, 204, 245, 266, 319, 330, 
 
 University, 182, 222, 236, 331. 
 Ural, 52, 236, 244, 340, 342. 
 Usurers. See Kulak. 
 Utopia, 193. 
 
 Valley, 251, 253. 
 
 Vanity, 339. 
 
 Vanka, 46, 54, 83, 105, 151, 153, 157, 238. 
 
 Vasily, 47, 171, 172. 
 
 Vasily 6-strolf , 43, 83. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 369 
 
 3, 115, 107. 
 Vegetable diet, 146, 177, 197. 
 v.-ii. i:;. 211. 
 
 Velvet, 42, 47, 87, 242, 246, 290, 300, 325. 
 Velveteen, 41. 
 Vender, 109, 111. 
 Venice, 339. 
 Ventilation, 293, 338. 
 Ventilator, 84. 
 Veranda, 255, 293, 336. 
 Vrbnaya Yarmarka, 36. 
 Veronica, St., 39. 
 \>rt, 246, 312. 
 Vespers, 216. 
 Vestments, 41, 51,57, 219. 
 Villa, 101, 103. See Datcha. 
 Village, x, 101, 111, 124, 130, 133, 189, 
 
 190, 244, 251-253, 256, 260, 267, f" 
 
 271, -J73, 280, 349. 
 Vint, 41. 
 
 Viollet-le-Duc, 354. 
 Virgin, 50, 51, 117, 128, 129, 216, 217, 222, 
 
 230, 260, 320-322, 327. 
 Vladimir, 23, 213, 221, 327. See St. 
 
 Vladimir. 
 Voditchka, 186. 
 
 Vodka, 134-136, 143, 171, 239, 274, 275. 
 Vodyanoi, 264. 
 Voice, 190, 255. 
 Volga, 114, 149, 235-243, 245, 252, 256, 
 
 2(i3, 271, 273, 279, 289, 290, 293, 298, 
 
 330-336, 340, 348-354. 
 V>azemsky, 36, 351. See Cake. 
 Vyborg, 36. 
 
 Wadding, 84, 317. 
 
 Waiter, 3, 104, 105, 108, 141, 236, 298, 
 
 W ill/The'lndestructible, 230. 
 
 Wapta, 161. 
 
 War, 54, 93, 177, 238, 245. 
 
 War and Peace, 163, 166, 191. 
 
 Warsaw, 14, 34, 121. 
 
 Washing, 30, 52, 191. 
 
 Washing babies, 318, 319. 
 
 Washstand, 104, 286, 294. 
 
 Washtub, 269, 354. 
 
 Water, holy, 39. 
 
 Water-king. See Vodyandi. 
 
 Watermelon, 39, 281, 286, 291, 332. 
 
 Wattle, 101,161,189,251, 270. 
 
 Weasel, 207. 
 
 Weaver, 162. 
 
 Wedding, 92, 120, 188. 
 
 Wells, 2-Jti. 
 
 West, 230, 339. 
 
 Western, 58, 123, 206, 210, 236, 265. 
 
 Wharf, 237, 239, 240, 241, 281, 287, 291, 
 
 292,348,349,351. 
 What to Do ? 174, 186, 195. 
 Wheat, 251, 282, 308. 
 Wheelbarrow, 241. 
 Whist, 41. 
 Whistling, 123. 
 White Town, 318, 320. 
 Whitsunday, 115. 
 Willow, 154, 276, 277. 
 Windlass, 282. 
 
 Windsor, 84, 125, 187, 268, 317. 
 Wine, 215, 234, 303, 304, 306. 
 Winter, 36, 41, 84, 86, 89, 94, 198, 200, 
 
 206, 242, 316. 
 Wirballen, 2. 
 Wolves, 262, 265, 282. 
 Wood, 31, 85, 203, 210, 261, 269. 
 Wood-king. See Leshi. 
 Wood-yard, 273. 
 Wool, 135, 140, 141. 
 Worship, 348. 
 Writer, 173. 
 Wylie, 6. 
 
 Yakoff Petrovitch, 94, 98. 
 
 Yamtschik, 250, 253, 274. See also Post- 
 boy. 
 
 Yankee, 105. 
 
 Yard porter, 85, 313. See also Dv6r- 
 nik. 
 
 Yaroslaff, 221, 355. 
 
 Yaroslavl, 105, 353-355. 
 
 Yarrow, 154. 
 
 Yasnaya Polyana, 134, 148-204. 
 
 Yay Bogu, 80, 249, 250, 260. 
 
 Yeast, 193, 194, 301. 
 
 Yerniak, 52. 
 
 Zakharoff, 55. 
 Zhiryokha, 271, 276. 
 Znamenskaya, 25, 51. 
 Zulus, 183. 
 
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