A lady

Foreigners in Russia—The Poles—The oath of allegiance—Disgraceful treatment—Want of cordiality—Polish exiles—Greek and Roman churches—Difference of creed—Saints—Christmas custom—Warsaw—Polish cottages—Peasants: their treatment—Germans in Russia: their customs; their mode of life—New-Year’s eve—Pleasing custom—Character of the Germans—Variety of foreigners—The French—The Turkish renegade—Mixed society—Conclusion.

In writing about Russia, some notice of the foreign residents will not be out of place, as they form so great a proportion of the inhabitants of all the large towns. The most numerous among them are the Poles and the Germans: the former are dispersed all over the empire, being obliged to serve as employÉs and in the army. Centuries of warfare and mutual cruelties have caused these two great divisions of the same race to hate each other with an intensity that would have satisfied the great Dr. Johnson himself. Every Polish gentleman is forced to take the oath, in which he calls on Heaven to witness that he will shed the last drop of his blood for the Emperor’s sake. It must be galling indeed to have to pronounce these words, with the recollection of the wrongs of his country weighing on his heart, and, perhaps, the remembrance of an outraged mother or sister who might have been publicly flogged for instilling sentiments of patriotism into his soul. Let it not be thought that these are merely idle words. Many a time have I been told of Polish ladies who have been sufferers from the executioner’s lash, not many years ago, in the very capital of their country. A hundred instances have been told me, with the names of the unfortunate women who were the victims of such brutal treatment. To them we may give our pity and compassion—the eternal shame and dishonour will fall on the head of those at whose command such acts were done.

Among my acquaintances abroad I numbered a great many Poles, and I asked a noble one day how he could conscientiously take the oath above mentioned. “We wait patiently,” replied he, “for the time is not yet come. As for the allegiance, we make a reservation to ourselves concerning it; but hope leads us still to expect that the hour for Poland’s resurrection will arrive. What can we do at present?” Notwithstanding that the Poles are everywhere received in society, there is very little cordiality in regard to friendship: many have, it is true, intermarried with Russians, but they are not, for the most part, of the superior class of gentry, but are merely petty employÉs, or people of no “family” in the aristocratic sense of the word. In almost every part of Russia Polish people may be met who have been banished from their native land for some political offence, either proved or suspected. Many have assured me that they were taken away in the middle of the night from their own house, and perhaps dragged from their bed, merely on suspicion of being disaffected. It was impossible to refute the accusation, because, according to the wise laws of despotism, they had never been confronted with their accusers, or even knew who they were: very probably the information had been given by some government spy, the name of whom is “legion” in Poland. One of these victims was a gentleman who, with his wife, had been imprisoned four months, when they were hurried away from Vilna to the interior of Russia, and they assured me that they had not the remotest idea what the crime was of which they were accused. Added to the antipathy the Poles and Russians naturally feel for each other politically, the difference in religion contributes to their animosity; for although the Greek Church and the Roman may appear in the eyes of Protestants to possess few points of difference, yet, perhaps for that very reason, their hatred to each other is the more intense. As far as I could learn, the chief differences between the Greek and Roman belief consist of a trivial distinction, scarcely more than verbal, in the doctrine of the equality of the three persons in the Trinity, of the denial by the Greeks of the necessity of their priests remaining unmarried, and of the substitution of pictures for images as objects of worship and reverence. It is true that, since the division of the Christian Church into the eastern and the western, a vast number of extra saints have been added to each, which may have caused considerable jealousy between them. If so, the Russians must triumph, for they have about twice as many as the Romanists; but, on the other hand, they are not quite so select.

I once went to dine with some Polish friends on Christmas Day, and I remarked a quantity of straw scattered under the table. On my begging to know why this was done, I was informed that it was in commemoration of the Saviour having been born in a manger: the Russians have not this custom.

Warsaw is beautifully situated on the Vistula, and contains a great many buildings erected in former times; but it must be very vexing and grievous to the people to see the monument in their “grande place” supported by Russian eagles, publicly reminding them of their loss of nationality. The Vistula is so extremely shallow that the sand is everywhere visible through the water. As to the general aspect of the country, it much reminded me of some parts of England; even the whitewashed cottages with thatched roofs looked very like those we see at home, but the peasants bore no resemblance to our sturdy, independent-looking countrymen. They, poor people! with their sullen, downcast faces, too plainly showed, even more so than the Russian serfs, how hardly they fared, and how they were ground down by the oppression of their conquerors. It seemed to me that every Muscovite, dressed in a little brief authority, was at liberty to play the tyrant over them, and I used to feel quite indignant at the merciless manner in which the post-guards treated them. The blows they inflicted seemed almost enough to break the back of any human being, whilst the screams they elicited frequently broke the silence of the night, filling our party with horror and dismay, and made us sincerely pray for the time when retribution shall fall on the heads of their oppressors, and Poland shall be free again.

The Polish dishes are not at all according to the English taste; they contain too much garlic and sour cream, and are much too coarse to be pleasant. In all the provinces of Poland through which I have travelled the bread was extremely bad; even in Warsaw, at the hotels, although the waiters presented us with what they called English loaves, they bore very little resemblance to the white bread of London. Perhaps the best bread in Europe is made in Moscow: it is perfectly delicious.

The Germans in Russia are extremely numerous; they have spread themselves over the whole country and have monopolized a great deal of the trade. “There are only two patriotic nations in Europe,” said a Russian admiral, “Russia and England; the French are partisans of their party; but as for those Germans, their country is where they find they can gain most money.” In regard to his judgment on the French, it must be a false one, for in their history we see many proofs of real patriotism, which show that, in respect to them, he was in error; but his assertion touching the German people, especially those in Russia, was probably the truth. They are not liked by the Russians, who look upon them with all the antipathy of race; added to which, their penurious habits and desire for accumulating wealth, qualities so different from the national character of the people among whom they dwell, and their excessive severity as officers and overseers, cause them to be detested by the lower classes, while the upper classes look down upon them with disdain, and consider them as a sordid, money-getting nation, who possess no nobility of soul, so that with them the name German and “nobody” are synonymous, although, owing to the German predilections of the Emperor, many of the very highest places in every department are filled by people of that race. Among the lower classes they go by the name of sausage-eaters, from their love of that viand. The Germans in St. Petersburg are mostly from Livonia and Esthonia, countries long under the Russian rule: indeed the same may be said of those scattered over the empire; some of them are from Prussia, but, upon the whole, there are not many from the true Teutonic states. They live mostly in small colonies, mixing but little with the Russian society; indeed many of them, although they have been born and educated in the country, do not speak Russ at all well. They retain the manners and customs of their ancestors as well as their religion; they have their Christmas-tree on the eve of Christmas Day, their commemoration of Luther, and their festivities at the New Year in their own fashion. The Christmas-tree, with its gay decorations and hundred lights, the presents laid round it for the children and relations, and the croque-mitaine, so formidable to baby offenders, are all now so well known in England that a description of them is not necessary. The Germans are a social people among themselves, and they enjoy life quietly—mais ils mÈnent une vie ennuyante. Their society, however agreeable, still wants that gay animation of the French, which makes even trifling subjects interesting in conversation.

A great many of the medical men in Russia are Germans, and people of that nation may be found in every town: I believe I may say, without exaggeration, that nearly all the bakers’ shops, as well as those of chemists, are kept by them.

The ladies are exceedingly good housewives, but, as a French person of my acquaintance remarked, “Elles sont ou des heroÏnes de Werter ou des mÉnagÈres.” One of their greatest pleasures consists in going once a week to the Singanstalt, or singing-club, to which nearly all the young persons of both sexes belong: the evening is passed in singing German Lieder, and the choruses from operas and oratorios by national composers, which they perform in very agreeable style.

One of the most delightful New-Year’s Eves I ever passed was at the house of a German friend. The family was a very large one, and all the members of it were assembled, even down to the third-cousins—grandmamma, grandpapa, all their married sons and daughters, with every one of the children, those of a few months old included, cousins, nephews, and nieces, not one was absent. After spending the evening in various social games, in which both great and small took part, the whole company took their seats round the room a little before midnight, and waited in silence until the clock struck twelve, announcing that another year had passed for ever, and that a new one had already commenced. All those who could sing stood in a group at one end of the hall, and the instant that the last stroke had solemnly sounded they burst into a chorus of thanksgiving. Each then sang a verse in turn, the grandfather, although past sixty, commencing in a fine tenor; after him sang the eldest son, and then the eldest daughter, and so on. The words, which are really beautiful, were partly composed by Voss; other verses had been added by the singers themselves. They began by thanking God for the renewal of another great division of time, expressed delight that so many were thus joyously assembled, with hopes for the welfare of those far away: but in the midst of their rejoicings they affectingly referred to the dead, who were sleeping in solitude, wrapped in their cold and silent graves, and whose place on earth was no more seen; and much emotion was excited by the following verses:—

Tears fell fast from many an eye as each gazed round that circle of friends and relatives, and all seemed to dread that some beloved face would be missing ere another New-Year’s Eve found them there assembled; they were scarcely dried ere the two concluding lines echoed cheerfully through the hall—

And then the grand chorus of thanksgiving was sung in gratitude to Heaven for the hope of an eternal re-union hereafter.

As soon as the New-Year’s hymn had been sung, the sons and daughters embraced the aged mother and father, and then the grandchildren came forward to do the same; after them the other relatives, according to their proximity of relationship, and finally the friends who had been invited. Champagne was then handed round; universal congratulations and affectionate embraces followed, after which a merry supper restored the gaiety and cheerfulness of the whole party.

Although I have mentioned the general character which the Germans bear among the Russians, it must not be concluded therefrom that they are not very frequently most estimable people; indeed many of them merit the utmost respect and admiration. It must be borne in mind that the lower class in Russia hold all foreigners in detestation, and the Germanic race more than any other. Until the present war broke out, all strangers to their country were designated by them “Germans,”[31] for the petty distinctions of French, English, and so on, were not known to the half-barbarous serfs; they only knew that they were not Russians, and concluded therefore that they came from Germany. Now all other nations of Europe are swallowed up in the designation of English, which at present is a word of hateful import to them, as our country-people are held up as the most to be feared and detested.

The French people, as well as the English, live in societies quite distinct from either the Germans or the Russians; but the French, being more liked in company, and considered more agreeable, from their gay and lively temperament, associate much more with the Russians, who take them as the established model for bon genre and politeness: their language also is as much used in society as it is in France, for everybody speaks it; so that, in making friends and acquaintances, our neighbours get on a great deal better than we do. Among the Russians the English were certainly greatly respected by the upper classes, and were perhaps (if it be possible for the lower classes to like any foreigner) preferred by them, especially in matters of business.

There are many Italians and Greeks established in the country; the latter visit a great deal at the houses of the nobility, their common religion being a bond of union between them. There are some renegade Mahometans also in the Russian service. I remember once dining at a friend’s house where I met several; one of them was a general, who had previously served the Sultan, and was himself a Turk by birth. In throwing aside his nationality he seemed also to have thrown away his natural characteristics; for his laugh was the loudest, and his jest the merriest, in the whole party. He gave good proof of eschewing the doctrines of Mahomet, by drinking two bottles of champagne; and when one of his neighbours took the liberty of reminding him of the prohibition against wine, his reply was that the Prophet had never tasted champagne, or he would have ordered the faithful to drink nothing else. There are of course a great number of Mahometans in the Russian army, as many of the tribes of the South of Asia profess that religion; also a vast number of Jews, and even gipsies, are to be found in the army, as no one in the empire is exempt from military service. I was told that all creeds are respected by the government. There are not many Englishmen in the imperial army; I believe the greater part of those so designated are either Scotch or of Scotch extraction.

Perhaps in no country in the world does one meet so great a variety of foreigners: almost every nation has its representative in Russia; from the Norwegian and Swede to the Albanian and Turk, from the Spanish adventurer to the Moldavian and Wallachian, they are all to be encountered in society. At an evening party natives of perhaps ten or a dozen countries may be met, and that not by any remarkable accident, but merely in an invitation to one’s general acquaintances. French is the medium by which all these people hold communication with each other, and interchange ideas; but it is necessary to understand German and Russian to enjoy a conversation, as it very often lapses into one or the other, according to the majority of people of either nation in the company. It is exceedingly disagreeable for those who speak only the French language, as very frequently, when some interesting anecdote is being recounted, a chance remark made by some one in German will cause the conversation to be continued in that tongue, to the great disappointment of the listener.

Having said thus much of Russia and the Russians, I have but few words to add. Of the character of the people I leave the reader to draw his own conclusions, from the anecdotes with which the preceding remarks are illustrated. That the Russians possess most excellent and amiable qualities of heart, no one can deny who has ever resided in their country, or had the pleasure of knowing them. Their virtues are their own, and many of their grave defects may be ascribed to the evil system of government under which they have so long suffered. Centuries of slavery and oppression are enough to change the characteristics of any people, and to infuse into the national mind all the meanness, cunning, and moral cowardice of a Helot. Wild though the country be, it is no inhospitable shore, and the warm-heartedness of the people richly compensates for the coldness of its clime. It is that which throws a kind of charm over the remembrance of Russia in the mind of one who has long resided on its snow-clad plains, and gives an interest to everything connected with them. There is much to love and little to esteem—much to admire and little to respect—in Russia and the Russians; and should these pages ever fall into the hands of my friends there, I entreat them not to consider what is herein written as ill meant. If I have remarked upon what is evil, I have not omitted to note that which is good. I have “nothing extenuated nor set down aught in malice;” and the greatest proof I can give of my attachment for them is the assurance of the sincere regret with which I bade adieu to the Russian shores for ever, and of the anxious and earnest desire with which I look forward to the time when a change in their system of government shall free them from the withering thraldom under which they now suffer, and shall enable the many good qualities of their nation to expand and come to maturity under the fostering influence of free and enlightened institutions.