Novorossiya: Chuguev Military Settlement

CHUGUEV MILITARY SETTLEMENT

The Fadeevs had another child in 1821, a girl named they named Anastasia. That summer the family spent part of the summer on the southern coast. On their way back to Ekaterinoslav, they stopped at one of the German Colonies. Andrei Mikhailovich was called away on business and departed from the colony a few days before Elena Pavlovna and the girls. When it was finally time for her to leave, Elena Pavlovna was startled by the appearance of one of the colonists, the wife of an Elder who came to wish her a good journey.

“Your husband,” said the woman, looking at the sleeping Anastasia, “how long has been gone?”

“A month and a half,” Elena Pavlovna replied.

“What a pity,” said the woman with deep regret in her voice, “that he will not see this beautiful child again.”

“Why?” asked Elena Pavlovna, greatly taken aback.

“He will not be able to see her again,” the woman repeated before quickly shuffling away from the carriage.

Naturally, these words greatly alarmed Elena Pavlovna, but Anastasia was completely healthy. The journey to Ekaterinoslav was safely completed and the woman’s words—attributed to some kind of delirium—would have been forgotten if Anastasia had not fallen ill with whooping cough a week before Andrei Mikhailovich’s return. The infant was brought to her grave three days later, and Andrei Mikhailovich never saw her again. Elena Pavlovna was long tormented by the thought of how the woman could know this.

The father had little time to grieve, as he was immediately thrown into another matter of resettlement in the Autumn of 1821. Several families were being removed to areas around the Black Sea from Little Russia and the Kherson Province. This was to clear spaces for the Chuguev Military Settlements, the scene of an uprising two years earlier. By 1815, nearly one-third of the Russian budget was devoted to the upkeep of the Imperial Army. Alexander Pavlovich got the idea of reforming the Russian countryside by populating it with thousands of uniformed men who, in times of peace, drained the resources of the treasury. The Tsar planned on solving to problem of the peasant Souls, while at the same time utilizing the untapped reservoir of labor in the Imperial Army. The idea was the Russian Military Settlement. Soldiers and their families would be paired off with farmers on agricultural plots. In this scheme, soldiers would have their families with them during times of peace, while the farmers would benefit from the rigidity of military discipline. The State provided modern health facilities, sanitary facilities, and identical blue or pink cottages built on the sites of razed farm properties. Such invasive and radical policies were unlike anything the peasant had ever known. The people at Chuguev rebelled. 250 men were condemned in the uprising, and brutally punished.[1] Construction on the Chuguev Military Settlement resumed, and the details concerning the resettlement of former inhabitants of that land became the responsibility of Andrei Mikhailovich.

Governor Shemiot told the ministry of the need to purchase fodder at public expense to feed the livestock of the Little Russians to avert their death from lack of food. He gave a quote of several hundred thousand rubles to transport the cattle and the huge mass (numbering many thousands) of Little Russians. Due to inconsistencies and clashes that arose regarding the orders relating to the resettlement of colonists in the southern regions, General Inzov found it necessary to send Andrei Mikhailovich to St. Petersburg in 1822. He was instructed to furnish a report with personal explanations to Prince Kochubey (who headed the Ministry of Internal Affairs.)

“The Minister has instructed me to ask your opinion about this estimate,” said Stepan Semenovich Dzhunkovsky (Director of the Department for Colonization.) “Is it too exaggerated against the actual need?”

“Please tell the Minister, that nothing more should be done at present since one of two things have happened,” said Andrei Mikhailovich. “Either all the cattle of the Little Russians have died of hunger, or they had found a means of feeding them themselves. Cattle in similar cases are already beginning to be driven out into the steppe for grazing in Novorossiysk. The allocation of several hundred thousand rubles for feeding cattle, therefore, will prove to be excessive.”

The Minister found the opinion of Andrei Mikhailovich entirely reasonable, and the petition of Governor Shemiot, together with his estimate, were accepted for consideration. Andrei Mikhailovich found Prince Kochubey to be a dignified and patient man, who considered the opinions and objections of everyone. He carefully looked over the business papers he brought and then submitted them for permission from the Tsar. Prince Kochubey often called on Andrei Mikhailovich and, as usual, was very supportive, but a detailed explanation of matters required a rather long audience, and therefore a lot of time. (Andrei Mikhailovich was detained in St. Petersburg for three months, much longer than he anticipated.) His visits, for the most part, were limited to talking with the Minister’s doorman and Secretary.

Sometimes Count Mikhail Mikhailovich Speransky would appear, hastily overtaking Andrei Mikhailovich in the Minister’s office (which made it impossible to do anything else.) During the same trip (on the recommendation of Prince Pavel Vasilyevich) he also met Count Nikolai Semyonovich Mordvinov, a leading political and economic thinker close to the Tsar. The visits from numerous relatives and acquaintances prevented him from being entirely lonely, indeed, he hardly had a spare moment after all the escorting of visitors on trips around the city. He had a pleasant time with his good friends, Anastasevich (Director of the Rumyantsev Museum,) Dzhunkovsky (Director of the Department,) and the Saltykov princes.

Next door to his apartment lived none other than Madame Krüdener, who had taken up rooms in the abode of Princess Anna Golitsyn. She held spiritual meetings in the salon there every Sunday evening, which attracted not a small number of mystically inclined members of the educated class. The religious toleration practiced for many years by Alexander Pavlovich, under the judicious guidance of Prince Alexander Golitsyn, had generated considerable religious ferment. “The impulse given to the study of the Scriptures by the establishment of Bible Societies, and the introduction into Russia of the works of Swedenborg, Saint Martin, Boehme, and other mystics,” it was said, “ had all combined to turn the thoughts of the more earnest-minded men and women of the Empire towards the spiritual problems of existence.” (Alexander Pavlovich’s feelings of love and veneration for Madame Krüdener, by now, had given way to sentiments of coldness and suspicion.)^[2] Such salons were then in fashion in St. Petersburg. The most remarkable of them, in Adrei Mikhailovich’s estimation, was the prayer gatherings at the commune of the Spiritual Brotherhood. It was a movement founded by a Lutheran, Baltic baroness named Ekaterina Tatarinova who, in 1817, upon conversion to Russian Orthodoxy, was given the “gift of prophecy.” The commune, which emerged soon after Tatarinova’s mystical conversion, had an eclectic mix of 70 members of both genders, various ages, and socio-economic statuses. Alexander Pavlovich would ban the group in 1822 (along with all Masonic fraternities, secret societies, and other non-sanctioned gatherings,) but Tatarinova’s followers would meet in secret for many years after.[3] On Shrovetide (mid-February,) not having been to the theatre or masquerades, Andrei Mikhailovich went to a meeting of the Spiritual Brotherhood out of curiosity to see the spectacle and found that it was “worth a good performance.” Accompanied by such a scandalous atmosphere, it was “difficult to imagine anything more comical or ugly.”

A more conventional spiritual leader, Stanislav Bogush-Sestrentsevich, also visited Andrei Mikhailovich during this time. He was the first Archbishop-Metropolitan of Mogilev (effectively the head of the Catholic Church in Russia) as well as the Grand Elemosinary (distributor of alms) of the Knights of Malta. Metropolitan Bogush-Sestrentsevich was an old friend of Elena Ivanovna and General Adolf Frantsevich. He told Andrei Mikhailovich all about the long-gone beauty of Elena Pavlovna (whom he had known since her youth.) It is not surprising that the Catholic Metropolitan took advantage of the opportunity to talk with Andrei Mikhailovich about his old friends de Bandre-du-Plessis. All who knew them closely preserved good memories of them. Elena Ivanovna, in addition to her beauty, was an intelligent, kind, sociable woman, who had seen and observed much in her lifetime and was a very entertaining conversationalist. She accompanied her husband on all his campaigns, including the Crimean campaign, where she became well acquainted with many famous people. General Suvorov often visited her without ceremony and later carried on a friendly correspondence with her and her husband. It was these acquaintances who, with their stories about her, aroused in Catherine the Great a desire to see her. The Empress ordered General Adolf Frantsevich (who was then in the Crimean Campaign,) to come to St. Petersburg with his wife immediately. They were very graciously received Empress and often attended courts in the Hermitage. Elena Ivanovna spent the entire winter of 1779 in St. Petersburg with her husband, and the stories she told about this stay were very curious indeed.

Finally burdened by the long duration of his stay, Andrei Mikhailovich had grown tired of waiting for an audience with the Minister. Stepan Semenovich summoned Andrei Mikhailovich to his office for a meeting on March 25, 1822, during which meeting the latter requested that he be sent home since work matters required his attention. In April, after a very kind audience with the Minister (who declared that he had spoken highly of him to the Tsar,) Andrei Mikhailovich was allowed to return to Ekaterinoslav. He left at once in a comfortable four-seater carriage, and without any stops or obstacles, reached Moscow on the fourth day. He stayed there for three days to conduct some business and to see several people. He met many old acquaintances, including Lazarev, a very rich Armenian, who forced him to dine with him. Andrei Mikhailovich had the opportunity to see, firsthand, the striking difference between the rich burghers and the impoverished nobility. He was surprised by the wealth on display at Lazarev’s home, the magnificent decoration of the rooms, the luxury of the furnishings, and the gastronomic delicacy of the food. The hall was filled with footmen in gilded vestibules, the halls were like those in a palace; Generals, counts and chamberlains were constantly coming to visit. On the evening of the same day, Andrei Mikhailovich went to his relative and friend, Prince Ivan Mikhailovich Dolgoruky, once a famous poet, he now resided in a nearly dilapidated house almost outside the city.[4] His lack of funds was visible in everything. The rooms were poorly decorated, the people were poorly dressed, and the prince himself wore an old, shabby, sheepskin coat. He was very glad to see Andrei Mikhailovich, did not let him leave until late at night, and forced him to give his word to come to him the next day (for the whole day.) Unfortunately, Andrei Mikhailovich could not give his word, because the next day he was back on the road. In the last days of April, he finally reached Ekaterinoslav where he had a pleasant rest among his family for a few days, away from the three-month bustle of the capital.

Trips to St. Petersburg did not prevent Andrei Mikhailovich, upon his return, from renewing his travels through the steppes and Crimea. Besides a few casual engagements, these journeys were not without interest, and even sometimes a pleasure for him. There were visits to Simferopol near Bakhchysarai, the former capital of the Khans. It was a city that was entirely a production of modern times. Forsaking the nest of the Khans, the Russians built laid out Simferopol according to their taste, with streets of such breadth that one could hardly see across them. Like all the new Russian cities, there were many handsome houses, decorated with green paint and rows of columns. There were about forty German families, mostly mechanics from the neighboring colonies—carpenters, watchmakers, painters, etc. The Tartars, meanwhile, carried the trades of saddlers, coppersmiths, shoemakers, and the like.[5] A little further away was the town of Karasubazar (“Black Water Market,”) situated on the Karasu River, from which it derived its name. It was primarily inhabited by Tatars, Jews, and Armenians (the latter being mostly Catholics.) The town itself looked “mean” from the narrowness of its streets, but when viewed from the neighboring heights, the numerous poplars and fruit trees gave it an interesting appearance.

Located between Simferopol and Karasubazar was the Neusatz Colony, a place that Andrei Mikhailovich particularly enjoyed. It was one of the three German colonies occupying the rich land along the Zouia rivulet.[6] Based off appearance, however, one might suppose themselves to be on the banks of the Rhine instead of a remote corner of Europe. As previously mentioned, these colonists had grants for land from the Russian Government to encourage the settlement of foreigners in Crimea. They enjoyed certain privileges, having their own judge by whose decision all disputes among themselves were settled. (In the case of any lawsuit with a Russian, when they were required to appeal to a Russian tribunal, the duty of this judge was to see that justice was administered.) They were an agricultural people and still retained the dress, language, and manners of their mother country. They kept large herds of cattle and supplied the markets in the towns with milk, butter, and cream (as well as with the earliest vegetables.) They married among themselves and adhered to either the Catholic or Protestant religion. Their houses were mostly built of stone, and their little gardens were tastefully laid out.[7]

A mile away from the Neusatz Colony there lived the venerable Abbé Mesliot. Andrei Mikhailovich often visited this learned and amiable French clergyman. Being a confessor of Louis Joseph, the Abbé told many fascinating stories, like how he accompanied the Prince of Condé during his command of the Armée de Condé during the French Revolution. During his silent visits to the Molochnye Vody, Andrei Mikhailovich often met another Frenchman, Count de Maison, in his house at Nogaisk. He left France during the Revolution, traveling to many countries, over many seas. He visited Odessa during the stay of Duke Richelieu, the latter, with his usual insight, immediately understood his potential to be a good administrator over a nomadic people, and Count de Maison was asked to enter the service. The region over which he ruled was inhabited partly by colonies of Russian Dissenters and partly by Nogai Tatars, a people who, until the past few years, had led a life corresponding to that of the nomadic Scythians described by Herodotus. Because of the wars carried on during the last century in the south of Russia, this division of the great body that passed into the West under Ghengis Khan, now found it necessary to quit the country, and emigrate partly across the Dniester into Turkey, and partly across the Kuban into the regions of the Caucasus. The latter group, however, annoyed by the Cherkessians, returned and submitted to the Russian scepter in 1791 and had their residence allotted to them between the Molochnye Vody and the Sea of Azof. From the time of their return until 1812, they continued to follow the same erratic mode of life as their ancestors, that is to say, they lived in tents, moving their flocks and herds from place to place. A series of attempts were made to “civilize” them between the years 1805 and 1812. Mosques were built in different places, and incentives were offered to build houses in their vicinity to form villages for their mutual advantage and accommodation.

Little changed until the arrival of Count de Maison as Governor in 1808. After fixing on a place of residence at Nogaisk, he gave orders that the Armenians and Karaite Jews (who were in the habit of supplying them with various articles of foreign produce) would only be allowed to trade with the Nogais on the condition that they settled in the vicinity of the Government House. The consequence was that the Nogais were obliged, for the sake of convenience, to gather around it as a center; and certain regulations having been enforced (such as the appointment of Elders and other magistrates) the villages began to rise in the steppe. Towards the end of 1812, the whole population was brought into a “settled and orderly state of society.” The reformers among the Nogais burned their tents, and by 1818, around 32,000 the total number Nogais were inhabiting seventy-three villages. Each of which had its own duly elected magistrate who regulated its internal policy with a council composed of officers chosen from every tenth family. Their territory was divided into five Kadiships, each of which was presided over by a Kadi (judge.) They had eleven mosques altogether, each of which had its Effendi (lord,) Imam (prayer leader,) and Muezzin (prayer herald.) Having reduced the Nogais to some kind of external order, Count de Maison then proceeded to adopt measures for their “mental culture,” Fearing that the introduction of Christian principles among them might excite their prejudices, or alarm their fears, he instead proposed that extracts in “accordance with the spirit and precepts of the Gospel” should be made from the Qur’an, and printed for circulation in the villages. Owing to the existence of certain obstacles, he has not been able to effect his purpose. Many copies of the Tatar New Testament, Psalms, and separate copies of the Gospel of Luke were forwarded to Nogaisk for distribution, but few of them were circulated, and the Nogais manifested little disposition to receive them.[8]

Andrei Mikhailovich also visited General Inzov again, staying with him in his home in Chisinau. It was something of a reunion for, once again, he boarded with Pushkin (who was continuing his Kishinev exile.) He was just as animated as their previous encounter, but at least he gave Andrei Mikhailovich some personally handwritten poems this time, “The Fountain of Bakhchisarai,” and “The Prisoner Of The Caucasus.” Knowing Elena Pavlovna’s love for poetry, Andrei Mikhailovich took them to her in Ekaterinoslav as a gift. He could not have given his wife a better present. Elena Pavlovna was so delighted with these poems, that she spent the whole night reading and rereading them. The next day she declared that Pushkin was undoubtedly a brilliant great poet.”[9]

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SOURCES:

[1] Pipes, Richard E. “The Russian Military Colonies, 1810-1831.” The Journal Of Modern History. Vol. XXII, No. 3 (September 1950): 205-219; Troubetzkoy, Alexis S. Imperial Legend: The Mysterious Disappearance Of Tsar Alexander I. Arcade Publishing. New York, New York. (2002): 116-118.

[2] Ford, Clarence. The Life And Letters Of Madame De Krüdener. Adam And Charles Black. London, England. (1893): 309-310.

[3] Emeliantseva, Ekaterina. “Situational Religiosity: Everyday Strategies Of The Moscow Christ-Faith Believers And Of The St. Petersburg Mystics Attracted By This Faith In The First Half Of The Nineteenth Century.” In: Religion And The Conceptual Boundary In Central And Eastern Europe. (ed.) Thomas Bremer. Palgrave Macmillan. New York, New York. (2008): 98-120.

[4] “Dolgorukov, Ivan Mikhailovich, Vladimir Governor, writer; son of Prince Mikhail Ivanovich from his marriage with Baroness Anna Nikolaevna Stroganova, was born in Moscow on April 7, 1764 […] In Penza, Prince Dolgorukov was actively involved in literature; thus, here he wrote (1793) a message ‘Order to the Doorman,’ which attracted much attention to the author […] For the next 5 years the prince lived in Moscow, writing, staging performances and visiting the theatre and high society circles, where, among other things, he met Princess Varvara Petrovna Volkonskaya, whom he glorified in his poems under the name of ‘Glafira.’ […] [In] 1802, Prince Dolgorukov was appointed civil governor of Vladimir […] At the beginning of 1804, the prince was promoted to privy councilor, and a little earlier he received a rescript of thanks from Emperor Alexander I. In the same year, the prince lost his dearly beloved wife, who died of consumption in Vladimir on May 12; this death greatly saddened the prince, and he could not forget his loss for a long time […] With the onset of 1812, the prince began a series of disagreements with Vice-Governor Dunant regarding the latest recruitment. The prince went to Petersburg for a personal explanation with the sovereign, but his ill-wishers achieved their goal: on March 23, 1812, a decree was issued by which Prince Dolgorukov received his resignation. During his stay in Petersburg, Prince Dolgorukov, who had already established his reputation as a writer, was elected an honorary member of the Conversation of Lovers of the Russian Word, the Free Society of Lovers of Literature, Sciences and Arts, and the Society of Competitors of Education and Charity, and on his way from Petersburg to Moscow, he was elected an honorary member of the recently founded Society of Lovers of Russian Literature at Moscow University. The prince’s stay in Moscow was short-lived, for the approach of the enemy forced residents to flee the capital; the prince and his family retired to Shuya, where he stayed until the beginning of 1813 and only at the end of that year settled permanently in Moscow, where his family home was not destroyed in a fire. […] [One] entertainment for Prince Dolgorukov after his retirement were literary parties, which he organized at his place on Saturdays. These evenings were attended, among others, by M. N. Zagoskin and S. T. Aksakov, who tells about them in his memoirs: ‘During the Great Lent of 1821, Prince Dolgorukov, who living nature required modern; social activity, formed a friendly literary society in his house, at which,’ however, ‘even then other members and visitors laughed. Some of us, of course, from the sole desire to console the kind host, agreed to take part in his old man’s fun. There were 5 meetings, and at each I, like the others, presented one or two poems.’ […] Prince I. M. Dolgorukov died in Moscow after a short illness on December 4, 1823.” [Polovtsov, A. A. Russian Biographical Dictionary. Vol. VI: Dabelov-Dyadkovsky. Imperial Russian Historical Society. St. Petersburg, Russia. (1905): 537-541.]

[5] Kohl, Johann Georg. Russia. Chapman And Hall. London, England. (1844): 457.

[6] The other colonies were Friedenthal and Rosenthal.

[7] [Mrs. Andrew Nellson.] The Crimea: Its Towns, Inhabitants, And Social Customs. Partridge, Oakey, And Co. London, England. (1855): 83-84.

[8] Henderson, Ebenezer. Biblical Researches And Travels In Russia. James Nisbet. London, England. (1826): 369-371, 379-381.

[9] Fadeyev, Andrei Mikhailovich. Vospominaniia: 1790-1867. Vysochaishe Utverzhd. Yuzhno-Russkago. Odessa, Ukraine. [Russian Empire.] (1897): Part I: 67-78, 70n-71n.