in the beginning of May, in the yearl838, that I commenced my excursion into the Steppes of southern Russia, from the celebrated city of Poltava, where tlie most adventurous king of modern times, about a century ago, concluded his. Accident had there made me acquainted with a very interesting young Russian whose route also lay through the steppes, and with whom, in a handsome britshka with three horses, I now drove down the high baiilc of the Vorskla just as the sun was rising over the battle-field enveloped in gloomy clouds as it formerly set on the King of Sweden.
I could hardly have desired a better travelling companion than the one now accidentally offered to me, who had wandered over the steppes from Hungary to China, but I might easily have met with better weather. I could scarcely have thought it possible that in the latitude of Paris, the gentle May could bring forth such a wintry storm as now rushed towards us on the wings of the wild east wind, drifting snow and rain with such violence that we had reason to rejoice that we were still wrapped in our warm furs, and had not trusted too implicitly the promises of some passing April days. As the snow melted, the road became very deep ; and in spite of our new britshka. and excellent horses, we got on but slowly through the rich heavy dry soil of the steppe in which Charles XII. s cannon once stuck fast. Every object was enveloped in fog and snow-drift, so that by the time we reached the first station we had added but Httle to the stock of our knowledge of Southern Russia.
The only object, indeed, which we could see at all clearly was our yamtshik, or postilion ; and this was one by no means unworthy of observation, for the Russian is as humorous, obliging, and entertaining, as our German postillion is wilful, commonplace,' and tedious. A series of portraits of the yamtsliiks from Poltava to Odessa, with a commentary descriptive of their peculiar voices, their original answers, their soliloquies, and conversations with their horses, tl)eir whips, their carriages and harness, in short, with all things animate and inanimate that surrounded them, really form an interesting gallery.
Most admirable is the patience with which these people endure every kind of weather. Tims during the pitiless snow-storm which accompanied us to the second station, our yamtshik, a little short thick roguish-looking fellow, had nothing to cover him but his inexpressibles and a red cotton shirt, the two garments being fastened together by a girdle. The brim ot his hat was torn off all round, with the exception of an inch or two on one side which still held together. This small flap he carefully pulled down on the side next the wind, and this was his only protection from the severity of the weather. He uttered not a syllable of complaint, however, but kept pouring forth, as if from an inexhaustible spring, a shower of witticisms, and for all the amusement he afforded us, as well as the hardships he underwent, was more than content with a douceur of thirty kopeks.
The admirable wisdom of Nature in having peopled this rough inhospitable country with so patient, contented, and tough a nation as the Russians, struck us most forcibly on arriving at the third station where we stopped to dine. We there met with a Feldjdger, or courier, coming from Odessa, who told us that he was compelled to make the journey to St. Petersburg, of 200 German miles (850 EngHsh) in four days. He was clothed from head to foot in leather, and thus tolerably protected from the weather, but the intolerable jolting of his most inconvenient equipage had thrown him into a perfect fever. He stated that during the first few days of these courier journeys, so full of fatigue and hardship, this sort of travelling fever usually occurred, but that it passed off by the third or fourth night. These Russian Feldjagers, who are constantly sent about into all parts of this immense empire, with all sorts of commissions and messages, certainly make the longest journeys in the world in the most inconvenient manner. A certain number of them are appointed for the emperor, the empress, the heir to the tlirone, and the different ministers, and they often perform from fifty to sixty German miles a day for ten or twelve days together, in carriages that we should find uncomfortable for an afternoon's drive. Very few of them, however, can support this kind of life for a long period, although the strongest men are of course selected for such a service. Those who have managed to become accustomed to it are extremely well paid, and have many opportunities of pocketing considerable smns of money.