indeed, I had often heard in Russia, that all the
detail of attack was carefully planned in St.
Petersburg by the Emperor Nicholas, who was
perfectly convinced of its complete success.
And it would most certainly have sufficed had
that handful of Englishmen but known when it
was overmatched. "But this we could not
make them understand," he said; "so in time
the French came, in overwhelming masses, and
our troops were forced to retire. English
stupidity lost us the best chance we had during
that war." When the express courier reached
St. Petersburg with the first news of that
defeat, and the entire failure of the carefully
devised plan that was to drive the allies into the
sea, the emperor, scouting the rumour of
defeat, arrived the day before, received the
messenger—an officer of rank—as the bearer of
joyful tidings. Something, however, in the
officer's looks betokened anything but joy, and
in breathless silence from the assembled court,
the emperor stalked up to the man, seized him
by both shoulders, and said with evident effort
and concentrated emotion, "Say! speak? Is it
victory?"

"My liege, I have instructions. There is the
despatch!"

"Speak one word: Victory!—quick."

"Nay, sire, I am distressed to say it is Defeat,"
replied the officer, and hung his head.

"Liar!" roared the emperor; and with his
whole force he flung the messenger of evil to
the other side of the room, and walked into the
adjoining cabinet with the unopened despatch in
his hand.—How far this scene, repeated again
by my friend the soldier, is true, I cannot tell,
but as it is said to have had many witnesses, so
I know it is widely credited among men likely
to be right as to such matters.

The only other traveller in our kibitka was a
Russianised German: one of a class very common
in Russia, and, as a class, inquisitive, crafty,
unscrupulous, hating the English with what soul
they have, cheating and injuring them when they
have the power. Russia is overrun with Germans
of this sort, who are to be found in all places
except where sound knowledge and honourable
dealing are essential. Nearly all the apothecaries
are such Germans, and the prices they sell
drugs at, are audacious. They get to be stewards,
and then woe to the poor peasants. They
largely import German girls, who are preferred
to Russian by the dissolute. They are
confectioners, factors, watchmakers, sausage and ham
dealers, organ and knife grinders, anything.
When they first invaded the country they
were called "neimitz," or dummies, because,
unable to speak the language, they talked only
by signs. The army itself is overrun with
greedy German officers and doctors: too
commonly men who, while poor, will submit to any
degradation; but who, when they get up in the
world a little, are fastidious and proud. The
Russians hate them with good cause, because they are
cruel, extortionate, tyrannical, and practically
useless. Many of the nobility and gentry are
married to German women, for the Russian
women are wan, and not usually good-looking.
The German wives exert the influence of their
husbands in advancing the interests of all their
poor relations. Let me illustrate this by a short
history, which will show also the state of
Russian serfdom under German management.

FACTORY LIFE—UNDER A GERMAN STEWARD.

General R. was a pure Russian, but having
in his youth been employed as a diplomatist in
England and elsewhere, he became so deeply
sensible of the political degradation of his
countrymen, and of his own responsibility in relation
to his serfs, that when he returned to Russia
he obtained the emperor's permission to retire
from public life, and devote himself, assisted
by his wife (also of an old Russian family), to the
task of improving the condition of the ten
thousand serfs on his estates. These estates
were extensive, had a splendid soil, and
happened to be situated in a genial climate. The
general himself went to live in the midst of his
people, looked into their wants, established schools
and churches, as well as factories, corn-mills,
sugar-works, adopted agricultural improvements,
and increased his wealth. He was the first to set
up a cotton-mill in Russia, in order to employ
profitably his people and time during the long
lazy winter months formerly spent in perfect
idleness. The fortunate serfs increased their
allotments; the sound of whip or stick was never
heard; traders came far distances to trade in
the thriving valleys of R., and their produce
brought the best prices in the large town, distant
only one hundred versts. In all disputes the general
himself was judge and jury; he was adviser
and friend in all difficulties. Incorrigible
delinquents were punished by being sent off the
estate to work, according to the common
custom, under other owners, on the "obrok," and
on this estate no heavier punishment could be
inflicted. He built a country-house, a copy
from some English gentleman's seat that he
had seen and liked; surrounded it with gardens
and a park; erected farm-houses on a large
scale; imported implements, cattle, and
experienced overseers; and when his barns and
coffers were full, and all went well with him
and his, he died, beloved and almost worshipped
by the men to whom his life had been a blessing.
Ten years after the old general's death, I
inhabited a wing of his mansion for a twelvemonth,
so that I know well what I am relating. Evidences
were around me daily, on all sides, of the
good that was done, and the cause of the change
that followed.

"Ah!" said the old Russian overseer of the
cotton-mill, "you should have come in the old
general's time. Then, we were men; now, we are
beasts. Then, we were all rich; now, we are
skinned and robbed of our very flesh. Then, we
could eat beef; now, we cannot get enough of
'casha' to keep us alive. Look at me. Am I
not as thin as a ghost? The year the general
died, I weighed fifteen stone, I had six hundred
roubles, saved from rearing poultry, pigs, growing
flax, and getting presents from the master. It's