The Press.
London, England, 1855-01-13 00:00:00

40

Nittraturt.

I(-

The Englishwoman in Russia. By a Lady, Ten
Years Resident in that Country. London :
Murray.

Russian Life in the Interior. By Ivan Tourghe-
nieff, of Moscow. Edinburgh: Black.
[Second Notice.]

OUR previous notice of these books last week
closed with some remarks on the deplorable
condition to which Russian peasants are re-
duced, tvhen the estates to which they belong
are committed to the mercy of agents or
middle-men. In the little volume of "Rus
sian Life in the Interior," from a Russian
pen, a graphic description is given of a
village thus managed. The whole place is in
excellent order, the buildings well upheld, the
fields well farmed, but two peasants in the
last stage of misery throw themselves at their
lord's feet, when he visits the place, to com-
plain of the extortion of his bourmister :
My lord, he has taken everything away from us, and
utterly ruined us ; he has sent two of my sons to the army
against the law, and now he is going to take away the third.
No later than yesterday he took away my last cow, and his
worship, the starosta, who is a true son of his, beat my
baba. Ah ! my good lord I do not allow him to put au end
to us altogether.—Bassian L,fe, 197, 198.
The old man is repulsed, and accused of
being rude and unmannerly:—
- - -

" MT good lord," said the old man in an accent of fright-
ful despair, "in the name of God, help us ! And he calls
me rude, too ! Ah ! I tell you before God I have no
longer any means of living. . . . Sophron Jakovliteh
bAs taken a hatred to me. Why, God knows, but he has
ruined me, crushed me. . . This is my last child. . .
ah ! . ." A tear coursed down the yellow shrivelled
cheeks of the old man. "In the name of God, my good
lord, help ns, help us! "—lb. 198, 199.
But the lord to whom they appeal is little
likely to render them justice. Ile character
is drawn with a masterly pen; and in the
sketch of his interior life we discern the harsh
treatment to which domestic serfs are often
exposed :

Arcadi Pavlytch is, according to his own account, severe,
but just; he watches over the wellbeing of his vassals, and
if he chastises them, it is the best proof that he loves
them. " You must treat them like children," he says on
such occasions, "for they are really nothing but grown
children, my dear sir, and one must take that into con-
sideration." When he finds himself under what he calls
the sad necessity of having recourse to rigorous measures,
he does not show the least sign of anger, and does not even
raise his voice: he merely puts out his forefinger, and says
quite coldly to the culprit: I requested you, my friend,"
or, " What is the matter with you, my friend? recal your
scattered senses." He quietly bites his lips, his mouth
contracts imperceptibly, and that is all.—lb. 181, 182.

When a servant is ordered to be whipped he
is sent to be " put to rights." The author of
this clever volume, Ivan Tourghenieff, repre-
sents himself as pressed during one of his
sporting excursions to breakfast with his en-
tei tainer

Besides tea, there were cutlets, eggs, butter, honey,
Gruyere cheese, and some other things. Two valets, in
white trousers, silently and with great activity anticipated
our least wishes. We were seated on a divan of chintz.
Arcadi revived' had on a very wide silk charovar, a waist-
coat of black velvet, an elegant fez with a blue tassel, and
yellow slippers dla Chil)oise, without gnartet•piecea. He
drank some tea, nibbled a bit of dry toast, smiled, looked
his nails, began to smoke, put a cushion under las
elbow, and, in general, showed that he was in an eicellNit
humour. Soon after, he attacked the cutlets and cheese
seriously, and after acquitting himself manfully in this re-
spect, he poured out a glass of red wine, carried it to his
lips . . . and frowned.

" How does it happen that the wine has not been
heated ? " he said in a dry voice to one of his valets. The
roan trembled, grew pale, and stood as if he were petrified.
" I have asked you a question, my dear friend," resumed
the young lord, with a studied calm, his large eyes turned
fall on the poor man, who twisted convulsively the napkin
he had In his hand, and under the fascination of his
master's serpent-look was quite unable to articulate a
syllable.
Arcadi Pavlytch drooped his head, and continued to look
in a pensive way at the unfortunate culprit, but from be-
neath his eyebrows.

" Pardon me, my dear sir," he said, addressing me, with
an amiable smile, and laying his hand in a confidential way
on my knees; and he looked again in silence at the valet.
"Go! " he said at last, raising his eyebrows. lie touched
the button of a little spring-bell, and a stout dark man with
a low forehead and streaky eyes entered.
" See Fedor put to rights," said, but in still fewer words,
Arcadi Pavlytch, with perfect self-possession.
The little thick man bowed, and left the room.
" One of the little inconveniences of the country, my
dear sir," said Arcadi, smiling. . . " But where

THE PRESS.

are you going? Stay, stay ; do be so good as to sit down."—
/b. 184, 183.

The peasants, instead of the statute work
which can be claimed from them by their pro-
prietor, often pay a tribute, and this tribute is
fixed according to their supposed ability to pay.
The serfs who have been reared to trades often
yield a considerable revenue to their pro-
prietors, and sometimes are mulcted of their
last copeck to satisfy their rapacious lords.
M. Tourghenicff represents a poor peasant,
who had been to see his barin, or master, to
petition for a reduction of his tribute, or to be
put on statute work, as, through the death of
his son, who had assisted him, he had no longer
the means of paying the yearly sum he had
been accustomed to do:—

" The master? the master?—ha drove me away, and
said—' How dare you come to me? Why have I a steward
on my estates down there ? Your duty is to address your-
self first to him. You speak of statute work : pay me first
what you owe me.' He was in a great rage."
• • a • • •

The peasant told us all this with as much coolness as if
he had been speaking of a stranger, but the water stood in
his little bloodshot eyes, and his lip quivered.
"You are going home now ?" said Tolman.
" Where should I go to? my wife's there at home gnaw-
ing her hand for hunger—dying of hunger.
" Will you go to the steward?" said Touman, observing
with some astonishment the calmness and composure of

the peasant.
" What ! go to him ? lam in debt, and have not paid.
My boy, before he died, was a long time ill, and did not
even pay his own tribute. Bah ! that's no great matter;
one can't get water out of a stone."—lb. i 3.
Even girls, who are expert at an occupation,
yield a considerable revenue to their pro-
prietors :

Fedocia lived in Moscow by her needle, and bravely
paid an annual tribute of one hundred and eightytwo
roubles, fifteen kopecks. She is clever at her work ; she
had a great deal to do, and was st!ry happy at Moscow. M.
Garpentchenko made her come to the village, and keeps
her there without giving her any employment. She wishes
to redeem herself, and has spoken to her master about it;
but he will not give her an answer.—lb. 103.

In another of these sketches, a small pro-
prietor, answering to our yeoman, relates his
experience of the past, when things were much
worse than they are now. But he says the
young nobles of the present day

treat the peasant very much as they treated their toys
fifteen years ago; they turn them round and round, break
them, and throw them away. The overseer, himself a serf,
and the German steward, do what they please with the
peasants. We live in a strange epoch; what was is no
more, and what will be is not yet."—lb. 08, 09.

Some proprietors have whims which the
peasants, whatever their disposition, must con-
form to :

Tatiana Vacilievna—may the Lord open the gates of
heaven to her !—onr late mistress, did not permit any one
here to marry. She once said in the presence of the
priest, " God keep me from allowing that. I am a maid,
and yet I live; I shall remain a maid. . . . What
then? My people are well taken care of, what on earth do
they wish ?"—lb. 118.
Before parting with these sketches, let us
notice one Muscovite peculiarity, which has
received abundant illustration in the fearful
struggles before Sebastopol—the calmness
with which a Russian dies:—

The Russian peasant has a way of dying quite peculiar
to him; although one can by no means say that the state
of mind which he exhibits before expiring is that of in•
difference or stupidity. He dies, and I have invariably
observed, dies with calmness and simplicity, and as if he
were performing a piece of business—an inevitable and
quite natural formality.—lb. 285.
•

A good old country lady died in my presence ; the priest
stood by her pillow, uttering the prayers for the dying.
The standers by listened thoughtfully, the woman lay
motionless; all at once, a change was perceptible ; the offici-
ating priest, thinking she was just expiring, hastily put the
cross on her lips. The woman turned round with an ex.
pression of displeasure. " Why in such a hurry, father? "
she muttered, with a tongue already paralysed. "Stop, you
will get. . ."
She turned her left cheek on the pillow, made an effort
to push her hand under it, and in this position expired.
Under the pillow was found a crown; her wish had been,
even in her dying moments, to pay for the last prayer with
her own hand.
Yes, the Russians have a way of their own when
they die. —/b. 297, 298.

The best of these sketches is " Karataeff, or
the Slave Mistress." A proprietor, of the
warm-hearted, extravagant kind, answering to
our Irish squire in days past, falls in love with
a beautiful girl, the property of a neighbouring
lady, who refuses to part with her on any
terms, and to punish her for her presumption
in wishing to be free sends her to work on a
distant farm. Her lover persuades her to run
off with him ; he secretes her in his house,

SATURDAY,

and for a time they are perfectly happy, as b.;
grows more and more attached to her. Bu; at
length the police are sent to make search for
her. Bought off from time to time, they con.
tinually return, and the girl, seeing her pro-
tector's peril, returns to her mistress to save,
him from prosecution. Lost after that, he
goes to Moscow, takes to play and drink, and
sinks to beggary. There is great pathos in
this story, and, like the other sketches, it gives
a strong impression of reality, from the dis-
tinctness with which the characters are drawn,
and from its marked peculiarity of style. It
has the disadvantage of coming to us through
a double translation, as this book is from the
French version, but we have read no descrip-
tions of the home life of Russia comparable
to these for clearness and force, though from
their very sketchy style they require attentive
perusal to Le appreciated.
We return to the volume of the English-
woman. In some of the preceding extracts
it will be noticed that the proprietors com-
monly treat their serfs as children, and of this
treatment amusing instances are given by the
Lady. A lacquey, who had an awkward habit
of letting everything he touched fall through
his fingers, was told the next time he committed
the fault he should be punished :

The very next day, as he was handing the dish of fish to
madame, down went the elegant silver slice ; after having
picked it up with a very red face, he cast a terrified look on
his master, expecting some awful retribution on his head
for the sin he had committed; when the lady, turning to
him, ordered him immediately to go and stand in the corner
for the rest of the time we should be at dinner. He obeyed
with the most contrite face, and stood there like one of
Madame Tassand's waxwork figures, without changing
countenance or moving in the least. It was wonderful
how the other servants could keep a serious expression.
We were all nearly choked with suppressed laughter, it
was so perfectly ridiculous.—The Englishwoman in Russia,
pp. 150, 151.

Another story is told of a lady who had a
review of her twelve footmen in their new
liveries, to see the effect of front, side front,
and back, as they stood in order ; and another,
of a lady in the country who beat her gardener,
a tall athletic young fellow, while he blubbered,
confessed his fault, and implored forgiveness.
Generally, the peasants seem extremely
simple and kind-hearted, but when oppressed
beyond endurance, they are known to take
terrible revenge. A man who had been flogged,
when he next met his master raised his axe
and clove his skull from the forehead to the
chin. A lady in the country missed her
husband, and went into the neighbouring
wood to seek him. The body was found
with the head severed from the trunk by
its side. He had ill-treated the daughter of
one of his peasants, and this was the revenge
taken. A Swiss governess in the interior of
Russia, finding that the gentleman and lady
did not come down to breakfast as usual, went
to their room, and found them both beheaded
in their bed. They had been oppressive to
their serfs. The Lady says :
I heard of many more examples, hut these will show
that even the serfs of Russia, ground down to the dust as
they are, will not always writhe like a trodden worm, bat
will turn and seek revenge.—lb. 145. _

But there are other instances in which the
serfs, who are often so in name rather than
reality, from having accumulated considerable
property, have voluntarily come forward to re-
lease their proprietor from debt and difficulty.
The natural disposition of the people is un-
questionably docile, industrious, and humane,
and it requires the greatest provocation to
induce them even to think of turning against
their proprietors. As a rule, all classes of
officials are corrupt, and a most amusing ac-
count is given by the Lady of a drama she wit-
nessed, the whole plot and fun of which con-
sisted in a scamp representing himself as a
Government inspector, and thus receiving all
kinds of bribes and presents to induce him to
report favourably.
Nothing is more remarkable in the English-
woman's book than her anticipation of some
fearful and irresistible outbreak in Russia as
soon as by accident, or by the natural progress
of events, the power of the despotism which
now rules the country shall be weakened :

"Le ndtre est le siecle de Lonis Qninze," said a gen-
tleman one day, in speaking of the society at St. Peters•
burg. Alas ! with too much truth. Yet, if we take his as
a true comparison, we shall find that all claws in France,
even under the reign of such a king, at the head of such a
Court, were not equally corrupted.-16. 110.