There is one trait in the Russian character, which we recognize distinctly in their poetry, namely, their peculiar and almost Oriental veneration for their sovereign, and a blind submission to his will. There is indeed somewhat of a religious mixture in this feeling; for the Tzar is not only the sovereign lord of the country and master of their lives, but he is also the head of the orthodox church. The orthodox Tzar is one of his standing epithets. The following ballad, which we consider as one of the most perfect among Russian popular narrative ballads, exhibits very affectingly the complete resignation with which the Russian meets death, when decreed by his Tzar. In its other features, also, it is throughout natural. Its historical foundation is unknown. There are several versions of it extant, slightly differing from each other; which seems to prove that it has been for a long time handled by the people.

We add another more modern heroic ballad, composed, perhaps, by one of the soldiers, who was present at the exploit. The first siege of Azof took place in 1695. The fortress was, however, not taken by storm, although repeated assaults were made; but the garrison capitulated in the following year. The great white Tzar is of course Peter I.^[352][pg.353]

Different dialects are spoken, and different ballads are sung by the population of Malo-Russia^[353] and of those Polish-Russian and Polish-Austrian provinces, where the peasantry is of the Ruthenian race. The musical element is still more prevalent among them; and their ditties are rhymed. The few very ancient ones, which are still extant, alone make an exception.[pg.355]

These have the form and the spirit of the ballads of the Great Russians, and can in no way be discerned from them; while the great mass has a different character. Indeed, such an immense number of ballads have originated in the rich and fertile steppes of the Ukraine, that it would seem as if each bough of their forest trees must harbour a singer, and each blade of grass on these endless blooming plains whisper the echo of a song.^[354] The pensive character of the Great Russian popular poetry becomes, in that of the Malo-Russian and Ruthenian, a deep melancholy, that finds vent in a great variety of sweet, elegiac, melodies. According to the author of a little collection of their popular songs, published first in a German translation, "these are the after-pains of whole generations; these are the sorrows of whole centuries, which are blended in one everlasting sigh!" ^[355] If we look back to the history of these regions, we cannot doubt that it is the spirit of their past, that breathes out of these mournful strains. The cradle of the Kozak stood in blood; he was rocked to the music of the clashing of swords. For centuries the country on both banks of the Dnieper as far as to the northwestern branch of the Carpathian mountains, the seat of this race, was the theatre of constant warfare and aggression; there was no time for the blessings of a peaceful development. Their narrative ballads have, therefore, few other subjects than the feuds with Poles and Tartars; the Kozak's parting with his beloved one; or his lonely death on the border, or on the bloody[pg.356] battle field! No wonder that their little lyric effusions have imbibed the same melancholy spirit.

These vast level regions were the principal thoroughfares of the hordes of Mongols and Tartars, who from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century overspread Russia, and penetrated as far as Silesia. In Northern Russia, at least, a shade of the old forms and constitutions was preserved; and native princes reigned under Mongol dominion; but in the South every thing was broken up, and the country laid completely waste. Fugitives, reduced to a life of plunder and booty, congregated here and there; the country on the Lower Don, near the entrance of this river into the sea of Azof, was one of their strongholds; another portion found refuge on the islands of the Dnieper, just below the present site of Yekatrinoslav. Here they fortified themselves in little rude castles; while, after all, their situation out of the track of the wild barbarians was their best shelter.

The first named region was principally the asylum for fugitives from Great Russia; deserters and exiles from other parts of the country joined them; and the Tartar population, which they found on the spot, and the neighbouring Kalmuk tribes, mingled with them. These are the Kozaks of the Don; of whom the Kozaks of Grebensk, of Yaitzk, and of the Ural, are branches. They are Russians, and sing the songs of their brethren, the Russians. The river Don, or, as it is familiarly and at the same time respectfully called, Don Ivanovitch^[356] plays a prominent part in their ballads. They have a touching childlike love for that noble river, so majestic and yet so gentle, that once gave shelter on its banks to their forefathers. Father Don, the stilly (tikho) Don, Don Ivanovitch, are its constant epithets. The scene of a considerable number of their ballads is in the vessels which glide upon the 'stilly' Don.[pg.357]

The fugitives who had congregated on the Dnieper were also Russians; but the mixture of other nations, which they received, would appear to have come principally from the Circassians of the Caucasus, as the still beautiful shape and countenance of the Tshernomorski seem to indicate;^[357] and also in part from the Ruthenian tribes of the Carpathian mountains, as their language proves. These are the Zaporoguean Kozaks; so called from having their principal seats beyond the porogues, or water-falls of the Dnieper. Both sections of the Kozaks founded a kind of military democratic government; and tried to shelter themselves against their enemies in those rude castles called Sicza, best protected by thick woods and the surrounding water. They soon began to spread out in the small towns called Groazisko, fortified also indeed, but built so slightly that they were almost as soon erected as destroyed. The Kozaks of the Don, after the deliverance of Russia in the second half of the fifteenth century, acknowledged in some degree the sovereignty of the Russian Tzar; and aided Ivan II to conquer Siberia. They were used by his successors as border guardians against the wild Asiatic hordes; whom they partly chased from their homes in the Ural mountains, and settled there in their stead. Thus they spread all over Siberia; always looking back with a pensive and languishing feeling to their "dear fatherling," their gentle "nourisher," their "stilly Don Ivanovitch." ^[358]

From the Zaporoguean Kozaks, meanwhile, had issued the[pg.358] population of the Ukraine. Their first establishment consisted of a strict republic of warriors; no female was admitted into their strongholds on the islands of the Dnieper. By degrees they relaxed; and began with keeping their families in villages in the vicinity, where they spread with incredible rapidity. Then a line of separation was drawn between the inhabitants of the settlements, and the Zaporogueans in the castles; none of these latter were allowed to marry. Thus their youth were always ready for the enemy; and the distinction was only dropped in more peaceful times. They kept themselves independent of Russia until the latter part of the seventeenth century; but their more dangerous enemies had long been the Poles, their north-western neighbours. It was the period of Poland's glory. The Poles were conquerors in the North and in the East. At last the Kozaks, after a century of struggles, acknowledged the authority of the Polish sovereign Stephan Bathori (ob. 1586); moved partly, it is said in their traditions, by the personal grandeur of that chevaleresque monarch. But now the Polish nobility overspread the Ukraine. They became land-owners and oppressors; and their stewards, their still more detested assistants. They were followed by the Jesuits; who alternately by persuasion and compulsion attempted to entice the natives, who all belonged to the Greek church, to come under the dominion of the Pope. A war of religious persecution and resistance arose. The Kozaks ultimately revolted in 1648; and a few years after (in 1654) their Hetman Chmielnitzky submitted himself and the whole Ukraine to Tzar Alexei, the father of Peter I.

The struggles of this insurrection, their previous feuds with the Poles their oppressors, and afterwards their repeated revolts from the Russians, who tried to undermine their liberties, have given birth to a great number of simple ballads, the bold spirit of which presents a noble relief to the habitual melancholy of Malo-Russian poetry in general. They have professional[pg.359] singers, who are called Bandurists; and who, with a kind of simple guitar in their hand, ramble through the country, sure to find a willing audience in whatever village they may stop. Their ballads are of course not confined to the scenes of the earlier centuries; the more recent wars with the Turks and Tartars also, and the campaigns made in modern times in the service of Russia, present subjects enough of interest; for their productiveness is still alive, although the race of the professional bards is growing more and more scarce. They call their historical ballads Dumi, or Dumki, an appellation for historical elegies, which has recently been adopted by Polish literati.^[359]

We give here a few characteristic specimens of their poetry; serving to illustrate their warlike spirit, as well as their domestic relations; their skill in narrative ballads, as well as their power of expressing in lyric strains the unsophisticated feelings of a tender heart. We begin with two genuine Kozak elegies.

ON THE MURDER OF YESSAUL TSHURAÏ.^[360]