Vladimirofka is one of the finest properties I have seen in Russia. The whole economy of this magnificent establishment bespeaks the enlarged and enlightened views of its master. It is about fifty years since M. Rebrof laid the first foundations of his colony, undismayed by the obstacles and dangers he encountered in all shapes. He wished to make profitable use of the fine waters of the Kouma, which had never before been bridled in their course by man; and now several mills, set up by him, enliven the whole neighbourhood by their continual din. The mildness of the climate has allowed him to make numerous plantations of mulberries, which have perfectly succeeded, and to establish factories, the productions of which may vie with the finest silks of Provence.
Another manufacture which he is carrying on with great spirit is that of Champagne wine. He sends every year at least 10,000 bottles to Moscow, and sells them at the rate of four rubles a bottle. By dint of energy and perseverance he has called up life and abundance in a wild uncultivated spot, which before had served only for the temporary halts of the Kalmucks and Turcomans. Many peasants whom he brought with him from Great Russia, and who had been habituated to an almost savage state of existence, have been transformed by him into good workmen, industrious husbandmen, and, on occasion, into soldiers devoted to their master.
In 1835, some three-score Circassians, tempted by the hope of a rich booty, made a descent from their mountains to sack and pillage Vladimirofka, expecting to surprise the little village population by night, and to find them wholly unprepared. But though M. Rebrof had enjoyed complete security for many years, he had never deceived himself as to the dangers of his position, but always expected to be attacked sooner or later; and, therefore, he had from the first taken all possible precautions against the designs of his formidable neighbours. Two branches of the Kouma served as fosses for the village and the chateau; there was a small redoubt with two pieces of cannon commanding the most exposed side, and in a room on the ground-floor of the mansion there was a well-stocked armoury, with all things requisite for sustaining a siege. With these means, M. Rebrof felt confident he could resist any attack.
Every night two sentinels kept watch until dawn, and it was this seemingly superfluous measure that saved Vladimirofka from total destruction. The Circassians, never reckoning on such extreme caution, arrived one night in face of the village, and felt sure that their approach was unsuspected. But the alarm had been already given, and the whole population, suddenly aroused out of their sleep, were ready for the fight. Arms were distributed to the workpeople and servants, the drawbridges were raised, the two cannons were loaded with grape, and the chateau was transformed into a fortress. All this was done with such rapidity, that when the Circassians came to the banks of the river, they found the village in a perfect state of defence. They attempted, however, to swim their horses over the Kouma, but were repulsed by a brisk fire. Three or four other attempts were equally unsuccessful; all points were so well guarded, and the men did their duty so well, that the Circassians were obliged to retreat at break of day. But enraged at their disappointment, they set fire to the village and the surrounding woods, and escaped unmolested, under cover of the conflagration, without its being discovered what direction they took.
As an economist and administrator, M. Rebrof may be compared with the most eminent men of Europe, and his manufacturing enterprises are the more meritorious, as he is destitute of the aid of books. Knowing only his own language, which is very poor in such practical works as would suit his purposes, he has nothing but a few bad translations of French and German works, which would be of little avail but for his own superior sagacity.
His gardens are filled with all the fruits of Europe, and with several kinds of grapes, from which he derives a large profit. Among these I particularly noticed the Schiras grape, which has no stones. Nor must I forget his excellent oeil de perdrix wine, which he set before us every day after dinner, with the pride of a manufacturer. Nothing could exceed his satisfaction on hearing us compare it with the best vintages of France, as we did in all sincerity on our first arrival. Afterwards our enthusiasm cooled down a little; but it did not matter; our host was still persuaded that his wine could compete with the best made in Champagne.