We breakfasted with him, and seeing him apparently so contented with his lot, we thought how little is sufficient to make a man happy when his desires are limited. Major Vanderschbrug beguiles his solitude with reading and the arts, for which he has preserved a taste. He showed us some fine water-coloured drawings he had made, and an old volume of Jean Jacques Rousseau, which he has kept for many years as a precious treasure. To all the objections we raised against the strange exile to which he condemned himself, he replied that ennui had not yet invaded his humble dwelling.
Before bidding farewell to Bagtche Serai, we went in company with our recluse to visit the Valley of Jehoshaphat and the famous mountain of Tchoufout Kaleh,[68] which has been for several centuries the exclusive property of certain Jews, known by the name of Karaimes or Karaites. They are a sect who still adhere to the law of Moses, but who separated from the general body, as some writers suppose, several centuries before the Christian era. According to other authorities, the separation did not occur until A.D. 750. There is a marked difference between them and the other Jews. The simplicity of their manners, their probity and industry give them a strong claim to the traveller's respect.
At six in the morning we mounted our little Tatar horses, and began to ascend the steep road that winds through a vast cemetery, covering the whole side of the mountain. The melancholy aspect of the tombs, covered with Hebrew inscriptions, accords with the desolation of the scene. Of the whole population, that during the lapse of ages have lived and died on this rock, nothing remains but tombs, and a dozen families that persist, from religious motives, in dwelling among ruins.
In the time of the khans, the Karaites of Tchoufout Kaleh were stoutly confined to their rock, being only allowed to pass the business hours of the day in the Tatar capital, returning every evening to their mountain. When one of them arrived opposite the palace on horseback, he was bound to alight and proceed on foot until he was out of sight. But since the conquest by the Russians, the Karaites are free to reside in Bagtche Serai, and they have gradually left the mountain, with the exception, as I have stated, of a few families who regard it as a sacred duty to abide on the spot where their forefathers dwelt.
Considering the almost inaccessible position of the town, its want of water, the sterility of the soil, and the loneliness of the inhabitants, we cannot fail to be struck by the thirst for freedom that made the Karaites of yore choose such a site, and the constancy of the families that still cling to it. Tchoufout Kaleh is built entirely on the bare rock, and the mountain is so steep that in the only place where it admits of access, it has been necessary to cut flights of steps several hundred feet long. As you ascend, huge masses of overhanging rocks seem to threaten you with destruction, and when you enter the ruined town, the sepulchral silence and desolation of its dilapidated streets make a painful impression on the mind. No inhabitant comes forth to greet the stranger or direct him on his way. The only living beings we saw abroad were famished dogs that howled most dismally.
Besides the interest we felt in this acropolis of the middle ages, we had a still stronger motive for our journey to Tchoufout Kaleh; namely, to see a poet who has resided from his youth upwards on that dreary rock. We had heard a great deal about it from M. Taitbout de Marigny and from Major Vanderschbrug; the first point, therefore, towards which we bent our steps was the rabbi's dwelling, built like an eagle's nest on the point of a rock. Being shown into a small room furnished with books and maps, we found ourselves in presence of a little old man with a long white beard who received us with the grave and easy dignity of the Orientals. His features were of the most purely Jewish cast. With the help of the major, who acted as our interpreter, we were enabled to carry on a long conversation, and to admire the varied knowledge possessed by a man so completely cut off from the world. Is it not wonderful that a person in such a position, and so totally deprived of all necessary appliances, should undertake the gigantic task of writing the history of the Karaites from the time of Moses to our days? Yet thus our rabbi has been employed for upward of twenty years, undismayed by the difficulties of all kinds that lie in his way. It was not a little moving to see a man of great intellect, vast erudition, and poetic imagination, wearing out on a desolate rock the remains of a life which would have been so fair and so productive if passed in more active scenes. He showed us several sacred poems in manuscript written in his youth. How much I regretted that I could not read the productions of such a poet.