p. 572 | The Russian Peasant by Sel.

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Sep 16, 1886

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 12, No. 36.

The Russian Peasant.

By Sel.

THE life of the Russian peasant is full of misery and wretchedness. The constant care and hard struggle for his daily existence, the heavy taxes that he is burdened with and which he is bound to pay under any circumstances, all this is sufficient to deprive him of all the enterprise and ambition that are peculiar to the more civilized, and consequently more happy, nations. Total darkness and blind superstition are the main features of his character. The belief in the evil spirit as a mighty power, having a great deal to do with the fate of every individual, has taken deep root in his mind, and no reason seems able to extricate it. Any tale of the supernatural is taken as a matter of fact, and any matter of fact is looked upon rather skeptically.

I can recall facts of shocking superstition that will, to a certain extent, illustrate the character of the peasant. On one dark, rainy autumn night a poverty-stricken old man threw an infant into the river, or, as he said, handed it over to the devil in exchange for a purse of gold that he supposed was hidden in a certain secluded place, and that could not be found unless some innocent human being be sacrificed! In another village, a sick woman was choked to death by her kind neighbors in their desperate efforts to squeeze the devil out of her throat! Furthermore, an old woman, a supposed witch, was beaten to death by the villagers for bringing a pestilence upon the cattle through the aid and influence of the evil one! These are a few of the incidents that occur daily in the peasant's life. The American reader can hardly imagine anything more miserable, more wretched, than the little hut in which a family, averaging six or seven members, is often found living. Imagine a little dark and gloomy cave, half of which is cut off by a large primitive stove, and that will be the “sweet home” of the Russian peasant. Every inch of space is inhabited, so that, as a matter of course, the air is made poisonous and intolerable, and this explains the frequent fatal diseases prevailing among the Russian peasantry.

The daily habits and methods of life are of the simplest character. Five o'clock in the morning, in all seasons, is generally the hour at which a family rises. The woman immediately begins to prepare breakfast, which generally consists of a mixture of sour-krout, beets and potatoes, called “borshtch,” and coarse rye bread. A large trunk, the only piece of furniture to be seen in a peasant's hut, which at the same time serves as a table, is spread with a coarse cover, and after saying prayer the head of the family, followed by the rest of the members, occupies his seat. After the “borshtch” pot is emptied, every one goes out to his work. If it is winter time, the men are engaged in feeding the cattle, and the women in spinning their flax. Every one has his hands full. At 12 o'clock dinner is announced—again “borshtch,” on the trunk table, followed by a potful of boiled potatoes and plenty of coarse rye bread. Supper consists of the remnants of the dinner. On Sundays, however, or days of festival, an epicurean piece of salt pork or mutton and fresh rye bread—of which the peasant, and still more his better half, is very fond—adorn the table. White bread is looked upon as a luxury beyond the reach of the peasantry. It is only on very rare occasions that such a luxury finds place in the peasant's home.

After a day's work is over, the peasant goes out for recreation. The tavern, which is the only place of attraction for him, is generally crowded in the evenings. The most burning topics of the day are discussed there. What strikes a stranger who is present at one of these meetings, is the absolute confusion which characterizes its proceedings. All speak at once, no one listens, and the debates are scenes of wild disorder. But there is no rule without an exception; an orator may sometimes command general attention. In such cases utter silence prevails, and those who interrupt are ordered to ‘shut up.’ As a general thing, however, everybody is arguing at the top of his voice, a wild uproar goes on, which oftentimes ends in a fight.

Balloting is unknown in the Russian village assemblies. Every question, of whatever character, must be settled unanimously. The settlement of a question mostly depends on the proposal of the starosta (village official), or any other important person of the village, whose influence conciliates all interests and wins the suffrage of the entire community. To reach this consummation, however, thorough debates and a good threshing of the subject discussed are indispensable. Every one must freely express his opinion and shout out at the top of his voice his arguments before any concessions are made.—Sel.