The provincial city of Ekaterinoslav was built by the Great Catherine: she herself laid the first stone of the cathedral church in the presence of Emperor Joseph the Second in 1787. It stands on the right bank of the Dnipro, several miles above the first rapids. It seems to me that he will never become worthy of his loud name. Now the borders of the State have moved away from him on all sides; there is nothing in it that would attract people, despite the five fairs established in it. As the center of the province, containing public places, it also retains officials, and the affairs of the district residents attract several people and traders. The current Governor-General, Count Vorontsov, built a rather beautiful and spacious house for himself here. However, I didn’t find anything particularly remarkable in the city. After having a rather bad lunch at a tavern, I continued my journey along the Dnipro to Nikopol.
The road lies along the steppe; the rich pastures and tall grass fairly showed the rich soil of the earth. The drokhva and even the little bustards walked quietly next to the very road and were not afraid of us. Having changed horses, late in the evening we were riding across the steppe, when suddenly a terrible storm overtook us. Thunderclaps followed one another incessantly; the rain was pouring down in buckets; to complete our misfortune, the darkness was such that we could barely see our horses. We lost our way, and for about ten miles we were driving along Khersonskaya instead of Perekopskaya; fortunately the coachman came to his senses and suggested that I go to Kherson; This was not at all part of my plan, because it would have cost me an extra eighty miles. I ordered to stop, and to the extreme surprise of the driver and my people I ordered the horses to be unharnessed. I figured that in this darkness there was no way to see the road, and that if we got lost again, it would be no wonder that we would fall into a ravine, of which there are many on this steppe, and therefore it was better to stand and wait for the day. The coachman and one of my men sat under the carriage to protect themselves somewhat from the rain, while I and the other were completely trapped in it. And so we slept in it quite peacefully until the morning; the rain passed, they harnessed the horses, turned back, found their road and rushed to Nikopol.
The sons of our fatherland who fell away in unfortunate times for Russia, they founded their own government here. We see them either under the patronage of the Polish Kings, or allies of the Crimean Khans, Moldavian Gospodars and Transylvanian Princes; sometimes caressed and helped by the Turkish Sultans, but unshakably retaining their commitment to the Orthodox Greek Church, to their native land and freedom. While enduring unheard-of oppression from Poland, they nevertheless served it for a long time and faithfully; but the incessant tyranny of the Poles, the oppression of faith, and the deprivation of freedom brought them out of patience. They repeatedly rebelled and armed themselves against the Poles. The names of their heroes: Konashevich-Sagaidachny, Sulima, Nalivayk, and finally the immortal Bohdan Khmelnitsky and others, will remain in History along with the names of all the glorious saviors of their fatherland. Khmelnitsky, having defeated the Poles in many bloody battles, finally managed to persuade Tsar Alexei Mikhailovich to accept Little Russia under his protection. From that time on, all of Ukraine, our ancient heritage, Kyiv, Chernihiv, Pereyaslavl and others, forever joined their old relatives and co-religionists, the Russians.
It will sometimes seem strange that a small people living in the middle of the steppes, surrounded on all sides by strong powers, constantly fighting with one or the other, could hold out and not be completely exterminated; but look at the map and you will see that, located between Poland and Crimea, it served as a stronghold and guard army for the Poles against the Crimeans; in case of strong oppression from his rulers, he rebelled, and together with the Tatars he broke into and devastated Poland. Their leaders, depending on the circumstances, pestering first one side or the other, were confident of always having an ally; fearlessly sailing in small boats across the Black Sea, sticking to the shores, they devastated Anatolia, repeatedly captured and plundered Trebizond, Sinop and burned Turkish ships; when the superior forces of the enemies forced them to retreat, they went beyond their thresholds and hid between the islands of the Dnipro, where it was difficult or completely impossible for large ships to pursue them. The same islands served them as a refuge from the Tatars.