A lady

Description of churches—A devotee—Saints’ portraits—The lower class of worshippers—Infant communion—Administering the sacrament—A funeral—Customs of oriental origin—Tartar burying-ground—A wake—Prayers for the dead—Horror of death—A baptism—Authenticity of Christ’s portraits—A procession in Moscow—Miraculous portrait of the Virgin—Religious processions—Aquatic procession—Pilgrims—A pilgrimage—The miraculous image at Jaroslaf—Angelic artists—Monks and money—A holy tradition—Religious ceremonies—Confession in the Greek Church—Representation of Christ’s interment—High mass in the Kazane church.

The Russian churches are much decorated internally; in some, indeed most of them, the walls are entirely covered with the pictures of saints, the Virgin and Child, and, the Protestant will be shocked to see, of the Creator also, who is generally represented under the figure of an aged man with long white hair and beard, having the triangle or symbol of the Godhead either in his hand or above his head. He is sometimes represented as sitting on the clouds, with his foot placed on the earth or globe; indeed so depicted it appeared to be merely a copy of the heathen Jupiter or the northern Thor. Sometimes our Saviour and the Virgin Mary were painted one on either side. The circle of glory round the brows of the saints is ordinarily of silver gilt, but very often of pure gold, set with pearls and precious stones. Many of the dresses are of metal (either gold or silver gilt), and they so entirely cover the space that only the face and hands of the figures are visible out of the mass of rich settings of innumerable pearls, rubies, and diamonds. An anecdote was told us by the head of a judicial department, of a very devout lady, who was so exceedingly assiduous in repeating prayers, and in earnestly embracing the portrait of “Our Lady” in the Kazane church, that the priests began to suspect that so much unction was not purely spiritual; they therefore set the police to watch, and “sure enough” they discovered that the devotee had actually succeeded in dislodging some of the valuable diamonds with her teeth: she was punished by being sent on a pilgrimage to Siberia. Many of the saints’ portraits are extremely ancient, and costly as regards the materials of which they are composed, but they are executed in the most barbarous taste, and possess no artistic excellence whatever. Some of them are so blackened by time that at first sight the face and hands appear merely dark spaces left in the brilliant surface; but the older and uglier these Virgins are, the more they are adored and the more miracles they are said to perform.

There is an immense deal of gilding about the churches, which, with rows of saints, all in their gold and silver dresses, lighted up by the innumerable little lamps suspended before them, the small tapers stuck in stands here and there, and candles of gigantic circumference in silver sconces, near the shrines and altars, makes a very glittering appearance, and harmonizes well with the splendid robes of the priests when they perform mass. More enlightened nations are apt to look with contempt on all these gewgaws, but undoubtedly they have their use in impressing a people so uncivilized and illiterate as are the lower classes in Russia, with respect for a religion which they are not yet in a condition to understand by precept alone. It is like teaching children to read by means of a pictured alphabet. Many and many a time have we seen deeply-felt devotion among the poorer portion of a Russian congregation; certainly they do frequent their places of worship much more than their brethren in more polished countries, and believe what their pastors teach them. In the Greek Church, even the babies in arms communicate. I was present at a mass in which a child of about three months old took the sacrament. The reason given is, that they follow the command of Christ, that the children should be brought to him, from the text, “Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.” The infant above-mentioned was that of a gipsy-woman, who, with a party of her tribe, had come to worship at the cathedral of Novogorod.

The manner of administering the sacrament in the Greek Church differs from that of ours. The priest holds the cup in his hand, and presents a portion of the wine in a spoon to the communicant, together with a small loaf, something in the shape of what we call a cottage-loaf, which is always made either by a nun or a priest’s widow, but never by less sacred hands. A very small triangular piece is cut out of the loaf, which the communicant takes with the wine.

Everybody in Russia is expected to take the communion once a year at the least, and those in the government employ must produce a certificate from the clergyman to that effect.

We once went to witness the ceremony of electing the mayor of a town: it took place in the cathedral. The bishop, a venerable-looking old man, was standing in the front of the altar when we entered; on his right hand was the golden cross, borne by a priest, and the Bible placed on a stand. Each officer in succession first kissed the cross, then the book, and lastly the prelate’s hand, as a token of his faithfulness to the chief of the commonalty. The address of the bishop and his benediction terminated the election.

There is a very curious painting on the walls of the cathedral in Archangel. It represents the parable of the mote and the beam; the former is depicted as a large branch of holly, stuck in a man’s eye; the latter as an immense rafter traversing his neighbour’s head. On the other side is a large view of the place of final punishment, in which hideous-looking devils, with birds’ claws in lieu of hands and feet, are engaged in punishing the wicked.

A Russian funeral, if it be that of a rich person, is a very splendid sight. An old lady of rank, with whom I was acquainted, died suddenly. A description of her interment may serve to convey an idea of such in general.

No sooner had it been ascertained that life was extinct, than the body was carefully washed, and dressed in the handsomest gown she possessed when alive, together with all the remaining articles of toilet, even to the satin shoes and silk stockings, the beautiful lace cap trimmed with flowers, and the white kid gloves, just as if she were going to an evening party. Sometimes the face is painted, as it was not long ago in the case of a certain prince in St. Petersburg; but in the instance of which I speak this was not done.

The body was then placed in the coffin, which is not like those used in England, but more resembles an ornamental box,[11] highly decorated with silver lace and large bullion tassels at each corner, and laid on the table in the great hall of reception. Priests came and sang mass incessantly night and day until the fourth morning, which is the time fixed by law for the interment.

During all this time the friends and acquaintances of the family came and stayed with them in succession night and day, so that they should not be left alone with the corpse for a single instant; and even for a considerable time after the funeral, as they have a belief that the soul still haunts the abode for a stated period previous to taking its flight to the place of eternal rest. In all cases of domestic misfortune and trouble the Russians are unequalled in their display of kindness of heart and sympathy towards the sufferers, and unwearied in their endeavours to lighten the sorrows of their friends—a most estimable trait in the national character. It is at such times as these that their amiable qualities, their charity, and affectionate feelings ought to be witnessed: they serve to counterbalance the grave faults and errors of which they are guilty.

When the day of interment arrived, the cover of the coffin was placed on it, but was not fastened down—that is done at the very last moment; the coffin was then placed on an open hearse, a rich pall of cloth of gold was partly thrown over it, on which a silver cross was embroidered. But previously I should mention that a piece of paper was placed in the hand of the corpse, a kind of certificate from the priest, a passport to heaven. This may remind the reader of the Egyptian custom of judging the dead and the story of Charon.

When all was ready the procession set out; although it was midday, several men with lighted torches preceded it. They were dressed in long black cloaks, with very broad-brimmed hats, ornamented with streamers of white ribbon. Then followed the bishop, wearing his mitre, and carrying a golden cross, accompanied by several priests and deacons, habited in black velvet robes, trimmed with silver lace, bearing church banners and pictures of saints, followed by a number of choristers chanting a part of the mass for the dead. After them came the hearse, drawn by four black horses, covered with cloth, escorted by more torchbearers: immediately following were the nearest relatives; a long line of carriages belonging to friends and acquaintances closed the procession. After the interment was over, the priests and acquaintances returned to the house and partook of a magnificent repast, which it is the custom to provide on these occasions. I believe that it was on the fortieth day after the death that the nearest relatives went to the church, and made an offering of rice, bread, and salt, the reason of which they could not tell us, but said it was an ancient rite that ought to be attended to. Probably, like many of their customs, it is one derived from the East. The ceremony of blessing the waters twice a year, which has been so often described, the reverence shown to doves and pigeons, although ascribed by the Russians to a Christian origin, must (if Asiatic travellers tell truly) have had a similar one.

The same may be said of their driving out to meet the summer, which seems to find its counterpart in China; and the presentation of the egg at Easter might have been derived from the Hindoo religion, as we are told that the Brahmins affirm that the Creator was floating on the surface of the waters under the form of an egg. It is certain that some superstitions regarding this object must have a more ancient origin than the Christian era, so many traces of it having been found in Egyptian tombs; nor can it have been since that time confined to the Christian Church alone; for when we were at Twer a new road was being cut close to our house, and the men in digging came to a Tartar burying-ground; hundreds of coffins were removed, and in many eggs were found; some of them were brought to us. The bodies were all enclosed in strips of the birch-bark, but a few had the remains of the Tartar costume. In speaking on this subject I may mention that in one coffin a large bottle of some strong liquor was discovered, which the workmen had no sooner opened than they drank the whole of its contents, which they pronounced as some of the best they had ever tasted! It had probably been some centuries under ground.

We were once at a grand festival given in honour of the memory of a rich proprietor on the anniversary of his death: it lasted three days, and was in fact a “wake,” as the Irish call it. It differed in no way from an ordinary rejoicing, excepting that we went in the morning to church, in which all the peasants belonging to the estate were assembled. In the afternoon the villagers danced in front of the edifice, just as they would have done at a wedding, whilst the friends of the gentleman at whose house it was given dined together. There were all kinds of delicacies and every description of wine—champagne, oeil de perdrix, burgundy, claret, &c.

A family with whom my friends were acquainted had the misfortune to lose their mother. The friends and relatives of the deceased as usual assembled to keep the survivors company, and the people below stairs actually played at cards, whilst the clergy above were singing the mass over the corpse. The reason given us was “que c’Était tellement ennuyant À s’asseoir et ne rien faire;” but this was an exception to the general conduct on such occasions. The Russians believe in the efficacy of prayers for the dead, and for the good of souls in the intermediate state, but they do not seem to have any very definite ideas about purgatory. Indeed the Greek religion only teaches that there are two places: one for the good, and the other for the bad. Yet they attend to the annual performance of a mass for those that are departed, and hold the communion of spirits in its literal sense. They endeavour by every means to render the prospect of death less terrible, yet perhaps there is not a nation upon the earth that contemplates it with so great horror and dread: like the ancient Romans, they cannot endure to hear it even named before them, and frequently, when death becomes accidentally the subject of conversation, they will beg that the subject may be dropped as being too disagreeable.

One morning the porter found a basket on the snow in front of the house in which we were residing, and brought it to the princess. To our astonishment, on removing the numerous wrappings on the top, a little baby of not more than a few days old was exposed to our view. Madame, although she had six children of her own, immediately, with all the kindness of a Russian, declared that she would adopt it. “She would not,” she said, “on any account show such inhospitality to the little distressed stranger as to send it away; it had been evidently destined by Heaven that it should be left at her gate, so that she might afford it the protection its own unfortunate mother was unable to give it.” She therefore immediately sent to a priest, and requested him to christen the child, and she and the prince stood as sponsors. It is a curious thing that among the Russians the father and mother of an infant not only cannot stand as sponsors to it, but they are not allowed to be present at its baptism. The godfather and godmother, by answering for the child, become related to it, and to each other; and a lady and gentleman who have stood as sponsors to the same child are not allowed to marry each other. The form of christening differs materially from that of our Church. The priest takes the child, which is quite naked, and, holding it by the head, so that his thumb and finger stop the orifices of the ears, he dips it thrice into the water; he cuts off a small portion of the hair, which he twists up with a little wax from the tapers and throws into the font; then, anointing the baby’s breast, hands, and feet with the holy oil, and making the sign of the cross with the same on the forehead, he concludes by a prayer and benediction.

In regard to the authenticity of the pictures of Christ, I have often asked my Russian friends how they could prove that the portrait before which they bowed really in any way resembled the Saviour or the Virgin. “In respect to that of Christ,” was the reply, “we are convinced of its being like him, for, when he had wiped the apostles’ feet, to show a still greater humility, he immediately after removed the moisture from his own face with the same cloth, and his likeness became instantly miraculously reflected thereon. It is from this towel, which some say is still preserved, that all the portraits have been handed down to us.”

“Well! but you have not accounted for that of the Virgin; we have no record of her wiping the feet of any one.” “How you heretics talk!” exclaimed they; “why, have you never heard how many miraculous pictures of her have descended from heaven? they must needs be like her, for they were painted by the angels themselves who attend on her.”

It appears that there are a great many of these portraits dispersed about Russia, for we saw several miracle-working ones in different parts of the country. In Moscow I frequently met a carriage and six, with postilions, coachman, and two footmen behind, all with uncovered heads, though it might have been in the depth of winter. It contained a portrait of the Virgin placed on the seat of honour, with two priests sitting facing it. All the people along the streets took off their hats and made the sign of the cross as it passed by, and seemed to regard it with as much respect as they would have done the Czar himself. During the time of the cholera I frequently used to see this carriage pass, and my Russian friends informed me that the presence of the image served to raise the spirits of the people, who believed that the dreadful scourge became lessened by it. I was even assured that, when taken, as it frequently was, into the chamber of the dying, their faith in it was so great that they had been often known to rally their failing energies and recover from a hopeless sickness, even after they had been entirely given over by the doctors that attended them. “But as it costs a great deal of money,” continued my informant, “to cause a miraculous portrait to be brought to a house, of course only the rich can afford it.”

In St. Petersburg there are very often processions of these pictures when the cholera is about, or any great event takes place: I saw them many times. The priests in their magnificent robes, bearing golden crosses and sacred banners, and several deacons carrying some miraculous portrait or other, go round the town accompanied by a band of choristers singing mass, and followed by immense crowds of the poorer classes, who consider themselves to be thereby performing an act of great devotion, every man having his head uncovered during the whole time. The picture is generally taken to some church, wherein mass is performed in its presence. When I was staying in Jaroslaf one spring, I had an opportunity of seeing the extent to which the superstition of the people and their reverence for these pictures prevailed.

As soon as the Volga was cleared of ice, hundreds of pilgrims and peasants from all parts of the country poured into the town, and they might have been seen in groups lying asleep on the bare ground, both men and women, there not being lodgings sufficient for their accommodation, but they probably preferred the open air, as they frequently sleep by the roadside on their marches. The custom of going on a pilgrimage is very general in Russia. We had a servant who went from St. Petersburg to Jerusalem and back again on foot. She went to the holy sepulchre to return thanks for her son’s recovery from sickness, and was absent a year. There is really something very affecting in such an act of gratitude and devotion.

The object of the pilgrimage to Jaroslaf was to assist in the procession of a wonderful miraculous picture of the Virgin, which was shortly expected to arrive from a monastery distant about eighty versts down the river.

The day at length came. Several barks with streamers flying and sacred banners displayed were seen from afar. On their nearer approach the sound of monkish hymns floating on the air caused a lively excitement among the people, who began crossing themselves with extreme assiduity. At last the Virgin disembarked: she was received by the governor with intense respect, who, together with the vice-governor, the marÉchal de noblesse, the military, the police, and all the employÉs, were in their most magnificent uniforms. Those who had stars and crosses (which are about as plentiful in Russia as gingerbread-nuts at a fair, and as valuable) displayed them in their full splendour on this occasion in rows along their breast. The mayor and shopkeepers, and about twenty thousand of the lower classes all in their gala dresses, the pilgrims, and large numbers of children, accompanied the picture in the procession round the town, the governor walking next to it and the rest following according to their rank. It was then placed in the cathedral, where it was to remain for some weeks in order to receive the adoration (and the money) of the devout. Hearing so much about this wonderful portrait, I was induced to pay it a visit also. It was some time ere I could make my way into the cathedral, so great was the crowd, but at last my friend and I reached the altar on which it was placed. Certes, if the angels are no better artists they would assuredly starve on earth, for nobody, and certainly no lady, would wish her likeness taken in the same style. It could be compared to nothing but to a piece of a brown saddle, with some dark lines for the eyebrows, added to which the unfortunate Virgin had no nose—great age had deprived her of every trace of it. As usual in these old pictures, nothing but the face and hands were visible: the crown and robes were sheets of gold set with precious stones. A priest was standing near singing mass, another by his side had a tray in his hands, a third had charge of a powder-puff and a bowl of flour. As soon as the worshipper had contributed to the tray, the priest with the puff powdered the Madonna’s hand, and then the former was permitted to have the consolation of kissing it, which he did with many bows and crossings; he then retired with the air of being highly edified with what he had done: hundreds of people in succession performed the same ceremony. The clergy must obtain immense sums of money by means of these miraculous portraits, for I am afraid to say how frequently, even during the short time we were in the cathedral, the tray was filled by the offerings and taken to a chest placed against the wall, and secured by three locks, into which its contents were emptied. To be sure, a great deal of the coin was in copper, but there was also a fair quantity of silver.

The history of this Madonna may serve to give an idea of the traditions taught not only to the common people but to those of education.

It was in the fourteenth century, they say, that a holy pilgrim, on his way to Jerusalem, rested a night on the banks of the Volga, and lo! whilst he slept a vision appeared unto him and told him that under a certain tree on the opposite side of the river he should find the portrait of the “Mother of God.” In troubled agitation he awoke, for he knew that he had seen the blessed Virgin herself. On looking round him he perceived, to his unspeakable astonishment, that he had been conveyed in a miraculous manner across the rapid waters in the night, and that he was reposing under the very tree described in his dream. Near him was the heavenly portrait mentioned by the spiritual visitant. He gazed on it in silent extasy, but on reflection he felt convinced that he ought to make known the event to the proper authorities: he therefore proceeded to a neighbouring monastery and informed the venerable abbot and brothers of the facts. They immediately set out in grand procession to the spot, singing joyfully on the way, and there, as the pilgrim had said, was the miraculous portrait, now guarded by two bright angels, who instantly vanished. The abbot and the brotherhood interpreted the vision as the desire of Heaven that a church should be built on the spot, which was accordingly done, and the wonderful picture was reverently placed in it.

The service in the Russian Church is neither in Greek nor in the vulgar tongue, but in Sclavonic, which has about the same resemblance to Russ as the old English has to the modern. Religious ceremonies are used on all the ordinary occasions of life; in removing from one house to another, when the priest comes and sprinkles the doorposts and the threshold, blesses the images, and says prayers; on the reopening of a school after the vacation; on the anniversary of alleged victories, when perhaps a dozen enemies have fallen and the rest run away; thanksgivings for having taken a flag from the Turks (which is then paraded round the town with a band of music playing); Te Deums for such triumphs as that of Odessa, when, indeed, they might have had good reason to praise Heaven that their foes were too merciful; &c. &c.

Confession is one of the sacraments, but it is by no means of so particular a kind as among the Roman Catholics, but in a much more general sense, and is ordinarily made but once a year, during the first or last week in Lent. The six or eight days preceding the performance of this duty the penitents attend mass twice a day very strictly and fast conscientiously in order to prepare themselves for it. They assured me that it was not necessary to name any particular sin, but that, in acknowledging themselves guilty of having broken the commandments, they are exhorted by the confessor and advised to repent. The rite is generally performed at home, the priest attending for that purpose, and not in the church, but they go thither the next morning, or perhaps the same evening, to communicate: even the merest children are expected to confess, but it is not necessary that they should fast.

On Good Friday the ceremony of Christ’s interment takes place: it is conducted in exactly the same manner as if it were a real funeral. I witnessed this ceremony at one of the cathedrals.

First came the priests and deacons bearing sacred banners, on which were depicted the lying in the sepulchre, the Resurrection, and various other incidents in the history of the Saviour; next two clergymen, who preceded the archbishop, a fine old man with a long silvery beard; four others followed him, who bore the coffin on their shoulders: the whole of the officiating clergy were dressed in black and silver. I followed the procession into the cathedral, and the service immediately commenced by the choristers chanting a psalm whilst the supposed body was being placed before the altar. On that being accomplished, the archbishop advanced and prostrated himself thrice on the pavement, each time being raised by the attendant priests, after which he kissed with great reverence the hands and feet of the image on the cover of the coffin, walked three times round the bier and bowed, signing himself with the cross at each corner; he then concluded the act of worship by prostrating himself as before. After the archbishop had retired, the different members of the clergy advanced two and two and performed the same devotions. The prelate then seated himself on a throne, a priest advanced and read a discourse to the people, which contained some excellent moral advice, and the service concluded with the usual benedictions.

The high mass in the Kazane church in St. Petersburg is well worthy of the stranger’s attendance, especially when the metropolitan officiates. His venerable figure standing before the altar offering incense, the prostrations of the clergy, their splendid dresses, the beautiful voices of the two bands of choristers alternately making the responses whilst the high priest is in the seclusion of the Holy of Holies interceding with Heaven for the sins of the people, have an imposing and solemn effect. Although their creed may not be ours, still it is impossible to assist at such a service without being edified, or without feeling that it is the house of the great Father of all in which the prayers are being offered; but this feeling of reverence was greatly diminished by the scenes that were enacted on our leaving the church. The lower class, as usual, rushed forward to kiss the metropolitan’s hand, when the police made a charge on them in a body, and there was such a scuffling and such a shower of blows given right and left as would have been a disgrace to a den of thieves. At last, with great exertions, a space was cleared, and the prelate, surrounded by the officials, was hustled out more like a criminal than aught else, and safely lodged in the carriage. We then, amidst a crowd of whining beggars and mendicant nuns and monks, with difficulty made our way into the open air. It was really a pleasure to do so, for the smell of the incense, the smoke of so many lamps and candles, the bad odour that there always is in a Russian crowd (perhaps from the sheepskins), made the fresh breeze outside particularly agreeable.