Through Siberia

Difficulties in prospect.—Appearance of the country.—Vegetation.—Garden produce.—Medicinal plants.—Ginseng.—Country almost uninhabited.—A serious loss.—Remarkable landscape.—Distribution of animals in Siberia.—Little-Russian settlers.—Peasant affairs and taxes.—Travelling by night.—Arrival at Rasdolnoi.—Clerical functions in request.—War in the post-house.—Summary of tract distribution.—Russia as a field for Christian effort.—The Suifun.—Cheap travelling.—Baptizing children.—Arrival at Vladivostock.

From Kamen Ruiboloff I had before me a drive of nearly 100 miles to Rasdolnoi, on the river Suifun, and this comparatively short journey I feared might present greater difficulties than any I had encountered since leaving my interpreter. In towns, or on the steamer, some one could be found with whom to exchange ideas in one of the three principal languages of Europe; but now I was to go alone through a district where even Russians are comparatively strangers, and where, if my half-dozen words of Sclavonic failed, I expected to be quite at a loss in communicating with the Manchu. Besides this I had heard uncomfortable accounts of the Manzas, Coreans, and other congeners of the Chinese, many of whose culprits had been expatriated to these regions as to a Botany Bay, and were giving the authorities trouble, not from political causes, but by forming themselves into banditti and plundering Russians and Chinese alike. At Khabarofka Major Evfanoff informed me that quite recently a number of these robbers had committed depredations on the Russians, and that Cossacks were gone in search of them. I also heard further on that they had entered an officer’s house, murdered his wife, hung her up by the heels, and carried away her child. Again, tigers were said to infest the district.⁠[1]

I was so delighted, however, with the thought of reaching the coast, and with the hope of getting from thence to Japan, that I hastened to depart notwithstanding. A letter of introduction had been given me from Nikolaefsk to Colonel Vinikoff, stationed at Kamen Ruiboloff, and the prospect held out that he would perhaps show me the wonderful manœuvres of his cavalry Cossacks; but, hearing that he was away, I contented myself with sending to him by the captain of the steamer a letter, and a box of books for his men, and by 8 o’clock I was ready to start. The weather was charming, like that of a sunny English September—a morning without clouds.

The district through which I was to travel, south of Lake Khanka, is about 100 miles from north to south, and the Chinese frontier is a few miles west of the post-road. Extensive plains constitute a prominent feature of the country, which is sufficiently hilly, however, to render the landscape pleasing. The soil, loamy and black, is covered with rich vegetation. These Manchurian plains are like enormous limitless meadows and heaths, from which the herbage has never been cut, and where pasture is ready for cattle by thousands. The country was fairly but not thickly wooded until I crossed the hills, south of which flows the Suifun. Water in some places was scarce, and I had to wait at one station at least an hour whilst a man fetched a supply. The climate resembles that of the Ussuri. On the 5th and 6th of September, at Khabarofka, I found it decidedly hot. The mean annual temperature is 48°, which allows of the cultivation of the cereals of Northern Europe, and of some of the hardier fruit-trees. Wild grapes I saw in abundance, but none cultivated. On the coast the Governor had recently planted some fruit-trees, and Madame one day, during my visit, brought to table her fruit harvest, which consisted of less than a dozen apples. Vegetables, however, thrive well. My host told me that near Vladivostock, on his island, he had raised potatoes twice from the same ground, between the middle of April and October.⁠[2] He had grown cart-loads of tomatoes, but, being unable to sell them to his satisfaction, salted them for his cows. Carrots and parsnips grow wild, and in the market at Vladivostock I observed, in addition to what have been mentioned, pumpkins, celery, turnips, beetroot, the egg plant, and Chinese onions and radishes. The missionary Huc mentions three treasures of Manchuria. One is the sable, another a grass called oula, the peculiar property of which is that, when put into the boots, it communicates to the feet a soothing warmth even in the depth of winter.⁠[3] The third treasure is “Ginseng.” The Chinese call it Orhota, that is, “the first of all plants.” They consider it the most costly produce of the earth, diamonds excepted, and ascribe to it the most wonderful healing properties. It is said to be a specific in all kinds of bodily ailments, to cure consumption when half the lungs are gone, and to restore to dotards the fire of youth. Huc says the Chinese physicians think it too heating for the European temperament, already in their opinion too hot.⁠[4]

Other medicinal plants of the district are the yellow rhododendron and marsh wild-rosemary, of which the natives use an infusion against stomach-ache; also the root of the tokose herb is used for diarrhœa, produced by feeding on fish. The burnt heads of burdock are laid on ulcers as in Peking, wounds are covered with agaric, the root of “Solomon’s seal” is applied for pains in the throat, and that of the hand-shaped bulb of an orchid for ulcers. The Goldi, however, as I have said, often attempt another method of cure, by making a wooden model of the part afflicted, which they carry about; but authorities do not record the comparative values of the two modes of treatment. It is said that the enlightened portion of the native community despise vegetable medicine, and more frequently resort to the services of the shaman and his brandy-drinking performances, which no doubt are popular with all parties concerned.

On leaving Kamen Ruiboloff the country was almost uninhabited. On the first stage I met one vehicle and three men, but passed not a single house. On the second stage two men only were seen.⁠[5] On arriving at the fourth station—Dubininskaya—I discovered that I had lost a large pocket-book, or paper wallet, in which were my most valuable documents, including the letter from the Minister of the Interior, my podorojna, and other official papers. This alarmed me, for without the podorojna I could not claim post-horses to go either backwards or forwards; and the situation was the more serious because none of the post-people could speak anything but Russian. I made them understand by signs that I had lost my letter-case, and that I must go back with the yemstchik to see if I had left it at the previous station. Giving my heavy luggage in charge to the post-mistress at Dubininskaya, I mounted the returning vehicle. It was now nine o’clock, and quite dark, and I journeyed in anything but a pleasant mood. I remembered, too, with appreciation, the luxury I had had further west, in Mr. Cattley’s tarantass, for here I had nothing but a wretched post-tumbril, without springs, seat, or hood. One of the horses went lame, which retarded progress, and I lay on my bear-skin, with only a shawl to cover me, for six hours of the night, gazing up into the heavens. The moon arose in her beauty, and the number of stars visible might have delighted the eye of an astronomer, but I could think of nothing but my loss. At three o’clock in the morning we reached the station, where they knew nothing of the pocket-book, and where the guest-room was occupied by a Chinese packman and his assistant, with whom I did not at first relish passing the remainder of the night. One, however, got off the bedstead and offered it me, and the other wished to give me tea, which, to say the least, was civil. So I spread my bearskin on the wooden couch, and the candle was extinguished. In less than two minutes I had kicked out the tester-board of the rickety bedstead, and it came down with a clatter, causing my room-fellows to start. “Ladna! ladna!” said I, thinking this was the Russian for “all right”; and then we recomposed ourselves. On awaking, and after further search, I ascertained that my difficulties were increased, for I now discovered, to my dismay, that beside the important papers alluded to in the wallet, there were also two volumes of manuscript notes, taken in coming across Siberia. I was now in an agony; and if crying would have availed I could well have done it, so distressed was I at the thought of losing information that had cost so much. It occurred to me that I might have left the wallet at the station still further back, and, seeing a Cossack saddle in the post-house, I pointed at it, intimating that the yemstchik should mount, and ride courier to inquire for the lost treasure. But he did not welcome the task, though he intimated I might have the saddle if I chose to go myself. Thinking to quicken the post-master into further exertion I offered a reward of five roubles if the book could be found. Meanwhile the two Chinamen evinced great kindness and sympathy with me in my loss, and the more so when they discovered I was an Englishman. At breakfast they offered me rice and onions, and I returned the compliment by inviting them to partake of bread and jam. They were travelling to Kamen Ruiboloff, and offered me a place for two stages in their vehicle. I resolved at first to go back, but afterwards determined to send a note by the Chinamen to Colonel Vinikoff, asking him to make inquiries for the wallet, and then continue my way, and to look very narrowly on the road for what I had lost. The yemstchik was not a good specimen of his profession, being fonder, if I mistake not, of drink than of work, and my slender knowledge of Russian led me to suspect that he was congratulating himself on the extra money he was exacting from me, which, in my suppliant condition, I was ready enough to pay if only the books could be found. At last we started, and I was scanning the road with the eyes of a lynx when about a mile from the station we met a post-vehicle, in which was a lady traveller whom I had seen the previous evening at Dubininskaya. We pulled up, and she placed her hands at distances apart, showing the length and breadth of something that had been found, and spoke to the yemstchik, from which I was able to make out that my troubles were over. I clapped my hands, and pushed forward with a light heart to the station, and there was my wallet, well hauled over, but with nothing missing. The yemstchik had told a peasant of my loss, and of the promised reward, and he had found the article lying in the road. I then remembered that, in the cool of the evening, I had put on my ulster, standing up in the conveyance, without stopping the horses, and so had jerked the wallet out of my pocket. Never did I pay ten shillings with greater pleasure than to the finder, after which I set forward, truly grateful, and prepared with reanimated spirits to enjoy the prospect before me.

Leaving Dubininskaya, the post-road lay over a range of low hills, the top commanding a view such as I had never before seen. The distant horizon was bounded by pointed hills, and between were enormous plains of tall, brown, luxuriant pasture, waving like fields of corn—a land of plenty, at all events, if not flowing with milk and honey. No cities were visible, nor a human being, nor a habitation. There were just one or two spots where the grass had been cut and piled in heaps, but the abundance that remained seemed to mock such puny efforts. The hills were wooded with oak, and the plains with aspens, elms, lime trees, ashes, black and white birches, maples, and walnuts.⁠[6] In young forests of this district are vines, roses, and a great many lilies. In the grass land there is much wormwood and pulse, the marsh ranunculus, and field-pink-clover. This last I saw in such abundance as to remind one of an English clover-field. There were also wild sun-flowers, and, growing at the roadside, wild millet, and what looked like bastard wheat or darnel.

Nor is this richness confined to the vegetable kingdom. To the 20,000 sable-skins sold annually at Khabarofka, Southern Manchuria contributes its quota; but I heard more of its abundance of deer, the flesh of which sells in Vladivostock in winter from 1½d. to 2d. per lb.⁠[7] Wild turkeys are found in the district. Ducks and water-fowl we caused to fly up without number on the Ussuri, and pheasants, like those in England, rose before me as I drove to the south. At the station I was now approaching, woodcocks cost from 10d. to 1s. each, riabchiks or black grouse 5d. each, and pheasants 6d. each. So plentiful were pheasants in 1875, that they could be bought for 7½d. a brace, and at Paseat for 2½d. each.⁠[8] This was in strong contrast to what the telegraph inspector told me of the prices of butchers’ meat at Vladivostock. He had been asked nearly £3 for the half of a calf, and beef, he said, cost 5d. per lb.

I now and then saw large herds of cows grazing, and learned that in 1878 there were imported to the Ussuri districts 80 horses, 600 sheep and pigs, and 1,000 head of cattle.

On arriving at the next station, Nicolsk, there was a good-sized village, with a church, barracks of the 3rd Ussuri battalion, and, what was better to me, a telegraph station. It was now Friday afternoon, and I was anxious, if possible, to reach Vladivostock on the following day, so as to be ready for Sunday. I had heard that they had been building there a Lutheran church, and it was suggested to me at Nikolaefsk that I might open it, as there was no resident pastor. I knew also that steamers served on the Suifun only for the mail service, and that when travellers required a passage, a telegram had to be sent to the Governor. I had heard that he was absent; but as his wife spoke English I telegraphed from Nicolsk, and said that if I could reach Vladivostock in time I should be happy to conduct a Sunday service. In the telegraph office I met Captain Alexander Jdanoff, to whom I gave some reading material for his soldiers, and then went to the post-house.

I noticed in several of the houses at Nicolsk that the chimneys were built of lattice work like English hurdles, plastered with mud. These erections told a tale to those who could read it, the builders being emigrants from Little Russia. So long as serfdom continued, the Russian peasantry were rooted to the soil, and often in great poverty;⁠[9] but when the serfs were liberated they came in some cases to the Government in numbers, and said, “We are poor; please send us to colonize in Siberia, or make us Cossacks.” And the Government, desiring to populate the Ussuri, had sent them hither, freed from taxes, and with the usual privileges granted to colonists.⁠[10]

The telegraphist at Nicolsk strongly advised me to push on to the Suifun without delay, so as that night to reach the steamer, which was to leave Rasdolnoi early on the morrow. I therefore started after tea for a drive of 14 miles, the first stage being to Baranofskaya, or the “sheep” station. On arriving I thought more of wolves than of sheep, and of tigers than either. The post-house was in the middle of a wood, and near it were burning large fires to keep away the mosquitoes and, as I supposed, beasts of prey. It was now night, and I certainly should have preferred proceeding by day; but I remembered the advice just received, and told the men to put to the horses. A sailor youth, travelling to Vladivostock, apparently on foot, and speaking a few words of English, made himself officious on my behalf, and then wanted to be allowed to mount my vehicle. It was too dark for me to see what he was like, but I consented, thinking that if we did have any encounter with wild animals or robbers, it might be an assistance to have some one who understood if only a word or two of my mother tongue. I sincerely hoped that we should not meet a supperless tiger, though I think I should have been really uneasy had I known what I learned on the morrow—that several of these animals had been killed during the summer at the very village to which I was going.⁠[11]

It was nearly midnight when we reached Rasdolnoi. On the way my fellow-traveller showed that he had been drinking, and his stock of English words proved to be very small and by no means choice. I went to the telegraph office and ascertained that the steamer, lying a few miles off in the river, would leave at seven next morning; accordingly, I took up my quarters at the post-house, and at midnight was writing up my diary when, the news having spread that a clergyman had come, a Finnish shopkeeper, named Rosenstrom, presented himself and asked if I would baptize his little girl. The request came at an awkward moment, for I had ordered the horses for five. At half-past three, however, I sallied forth, arrayed in my cassock, with the Finn to conduct me, lantern in hand. His house was not far, though approached by a rough road; and, passing through the shop, I found a room nicely arranged and brilliantly lighted, with some half-dozen persons present—the telegraph officer and his wife or sister (who had communicated my arrival), and a Finnish friend, besides the father and mother of the child. After the service and breakfast, dawn appeared, and by five I was ready to depart. Much to my chagrin, however, the smoke from the funnel, among the distant trees, showed the vessel to be moving, and I was left behind. I telegraphed to Vladivostock to this effect, and received a reply that the steamer would return and bring me on Monday morning.

I had abundance of time, therefore, to inspect the little station of Rasdolnoi.⁠[12] Had I not felt impatient at losing the boat, I might have enjoyed the view from the post-house, for it was exceedingly pleasing. The country was well wooded, and the curves of the Suifun added much to the beauty of the picture. It was in this post-house, and only here, that I had a desperate battle with thousands of cockroaches or tarakans. By day they hid themselves, but at night they came out on to the table, the couch, and everywhere, great grandfathers and grandmothers with their offspring to the third and fourth generation. To wage general warfare against them was hopeless; therefore I set my wits to work to keep the table free. I recalled a visit paid to Messrs. Huntley and Palmer’s Biscuit Manufactory at Reading, where, on the floor, were thousands of little insects running about. Let no lover of Huntley and Palmer’s biscuits, however, be dismayed, for none of these creepers are allowed to mount the tables, the legs being made to stand each in a little pan of water; and as the emmets will not take to swimming, they have to be content with the crumbs on the floor. This plan I adopted with modifications. My friends had strongly urged me to take from Petersburg a box of Persian powder, supposed to be an abomination to B flats and F sharps. I had not used it once, but now I surrounded each leg of the table with an embankment of the said powder, and great was my delight to see the enemy advance, evidently thinking to scale the ramparts and mount as usual, but, instead, suddenly stop, hold a council of war, wave feelers, and then beat a retreat!

I was enjoying my tea on Saturday afternoon from a clean table when two officers, a wife, and child arrived from Vladivostock. Then was cleared up the mystery of the boat having left so early; a telegram had been sent that it should depart at five to meet these travellers, one of whom was merely accompanying his friends for a few miles in Russian fashion, and was to return next day. They spoke French and a little English, and, having started in a hurry, they asked if I could sell them some quinine, which I thought I might venture to do, seeing that I had not once opened my store. Arnica had been needed for the sprain of the interpreter’s foot, but as for myself I am not sure that I had taken so much as a pill since leaving London, so that the counsel of my medical adviser had proved to be sound; for when I proposed to take a lot of medicines, he strongly urged me not to carry too much, “lest,” he said, “you should be tempted to excess.”

Though Rasdolnoi was so small a place, yet, when it became known that I had good books in possession, several came from I know not where to buy them. I now had time to reckon up my “takings,” and found that sales amounted in all to about £18—not a large sum truly, but a good deal to make up in kopecks, of which 100 equal only 2s. My receipts covered, I suppose, about a fourth of the cost of the transport of books and tracts, and as these had been given me, with grants toward their carriage, by the Bible and Tract Societies of London and Petersburg, I subsequently divided among them the proceeds. From Nikolaefsk I sent to the Governor of the Primorsk 1,000 New Testaments, 10,000 tracts, and 200 copies of the “Life of Christ,” requesting that they might be distributed from Vladivostock to Kamchatka, to the prisons, hospitals, soldiers, Cossacks, schools, and the seamen of the Siberian fleet; and it has gratified me to hear, during the present year, that this was thoroughly and carefully done. Thus I distributed in all by proxy—that is through the authorities—about 44,000 publications, and personally about 12,000, the exact total being 55,812 of all kinds.⁠[13]

On my return to England I wrote to the Director of the Central Administration of Prisons, saying what I had done, and enclosing a list of the persons to whom and for whom the books had been given. I also stated my “strong conviction that a wider and better knowledge of the Holy Scriptures would do much both to lessen crime and also to reform the criminal. Hence I wished that a copy of the New Testament might always remain within reach of every prisoner and hospital patient in Siberia, and I cherished the hope that some who might perhaps take up the book to while away time might read to profit and subsequent reformation.” To this end I asked the administration to do anything they could to forward the successful completion of my work; and this letter I enclosed to the Minister of the Interior, when writing to thank his Excellency for the great kindness and attention his letter had secured for me.⁠[14]

My “work” was now almost done, and I looked forward with hope, for I regard the Russian people as presenting a promising field for the diffusion of a more spiritual religion than they now possess. Many, it is true, do not cease to speak of Russian bribery and untruthfulness, gambling and dishonesty. But, however that may be, there seemed to me to be a general willingness in Russia to learn better things. The sceptics we met were few and far between. In Western Siberia a Polish veterinary surgeon—a Romanist—argued as if he would like to upset Christianity, but he ended by giving money for a New Testament, and acknowledged that he envied the experience of his antagonist. In Eastern Siberia I met a Protestant gentleman who said that most educated people in Siberia were materialists; but I had afterwards reason to suspect he was measuring by his own bushel, for so material was his creed that, though holding a high position in the Government, with a large salary, he was not above suspicion of asking a bribe. I ought, however, to add that a Russian critic, by no means unfriendly, lamented to me that, owing to the want of teaching power in the priests, men of the educated classes in Russia are, as a rule, perfectly indifferent to religion, and therefore tolerant to all and every creed, though jealous of the orthodox Church as a national institution.

A good type of a religious gentleman—a devotee perhaps some would say—was an officer I met, who goes to mass every morning at five; or, again, a lady of high rank, who, whilst continuing strictly “orthodox,” learns to look at the errors of her Church in their least objectionable form, and to separate the good from the bad. Another educated man, an advocate, was typical, I should judge, of many in his rank of life. All are required to attend church on certain occasions, and beyond this he acknowledged that he did so very little; but it was because he got no teaching there. He went, he said, on the festivals, from six to twelve times a year, and oftener whilst his children were young; but he was ready to go every Sunday if something could be learned thereby. As for the uneducated Russians, the distances they will go, amounting to literally thousands of miles, for religious purposes, manifests at least something intensely earnest about religious affairs. Never—certainly, in any other country—have I met with such eagerness to get Scriptures and good books. This extends to both clergy and laity. When, on one occasion, my friend who edited the Russian Workman thought of giving it up, some of the priests sent their subscriptions again, and implored that it might be continued; and some of those interested in the religious societies at work in the empire have told me that, in spite of the obstacles put in their way, they have far more opportunities of usefulness than they can use. I agree, therefore, with those who look upon Russia as a promising field for Christian effort.

On Sunday afternoon the officer returned to Rasdolnoi, and I began immediately to question him. There was no ship sailing to Japan, he said, for a fortnight; and then, by way of preface to information respecting Vladivostock, he asked my standing, and whether I was rich or poor. Having classed myself with those who have neither poverty nor riches, he said that, as for himself, he was a man of means, and that he took the journeys to the Caucasus and Egypt (of which he had told me) because he had money in pocket, and so on—tall talk which sank down wonderfully when I searched him out at Vladivostock.⁠[15] He appeared well posted, however, in his professional studies, and willing to give me information; so, as we were to start very early in the morning, we boarded the steamer towards sunset. The Suifun is 120 yards wide. It varies in summer from 30 inches to 7 feet in depth, and in winter rises 20 feet. Our vessel was named Suifun, after the stream, and drew 2 feet of water, and could steam 8 or 10 miles an hour. Vladivostock was only 50 miles distant, but the boat was not suited for the sea, and therefore, on reaching the mouth of the river at Richnoi, 30 miles distant, we were to be transhipped to a sea-going steamer, the Amur, and so landed at Vladivostock. The Suifun was not a passenger vessel in the ordinary sense of the word, but belonged to the Government. It was used for bringing the mails from Khabarofka, and if there happened to be passengers accompanying them, they travelled the 50 miles free. They were, moreover, so obliging, that, if travellers arrived and telegraphed to the post as I had done, the two ships were put in motion; and as if that were not enough, an allowance was made to the officers to feed hungry passengers free of expense, so that, on the whole, this was the cheapest 50 miles I travelled.

I did not know of these arrangements at first, and heard that there were no provisions to be had on board, and no sleeping accommodation. My fellow-passenger slept in the open air, on deck, and I thought I should be compelled to do the same; but the captain gave me an excellent cabin, with plenty of room, which the officer, however, would not share. I had not been long on board when my clerical services were asked for a second time. We were to pass a saw-mill where lived a Protestant family, and the captain, knowing that the children were unbaptized, thought my coming very opportune, and asked whether, if he stopped the steamer, I would go ashore and officiate. As we approached Richnoi we came in sight of the mill, built, as I afterwards ascertained, by Captain de Vries, and subsequently sold to the Government. There are three such mills near Vladivostock, employing 39 workmen, chiefly Chinese, who earn £4,500 a year. The manager was a Swede, named Lovelius, his wife, if I mistake not, being one of the whaling community who had come from Finland. The father spoke a little English, calling me “parson”; and after I had christened his three children he placed a fee in my hand. When I demurred to take it, he said he wished to stand indebted to no man, and added that I had saved him a “lot of trouble,” for otherwise he must have brought all the children into Vladivostock, when there chanced to arrive a minister or chaplain.⁠[16]

The saw-mill was prettily situated, and the manager received good remuneration, but he was not much in love with his position; for one thing, the mosquitoes troubled him, as on the previous evening they did me.⁠[17] Fear of the Manza robbers, however, troubled the manager more, and he pointed to a house across the river where they had lately murdered an old man of seventy.

On reaching the mouth of the Suifun we met the Amur, and the two vessels exchanged passengers, whereupon I discovered, to my surprise, that some of our new officers were those I had travelled with on the Shilka. I had breakfasted that morning, not very comfortably, in the open air, and was, therefore, ready for dinner in the officers’ cabin, after which it was I learned that I had eaten at the expense of the Emperor; and then, steaming down the Amur Gulf, and rounding the promontory into the Golden Horn, we dropped anchor before Vladivostock.