Circassia (Russia) -- Social life and customs; Crimea (Ukraine) -- Social life and customs; Harems
There has ever been such kind feeling and such friendship between
Russia and England that it must always be painful to an Englishman
to think circumstances should have forced us into a cruel war with
an old and steady friend.
The day after our arrival we got three droskies to take us to the
Redan and the neighbouring heights. Crimean droskies are like very
low gigs, and hold two persons besides the driver, who sits upon a
small box or perch high above the body of the carriage. One of the
horses is in shafts, with a wooden arch hung with bells over his head,
the other is in traces on the left side. When well driven this horse
canters while the other trots, and however rough and uneven the road,
the pace is generally tremendous.
The drivers were strange wild creatures, with long unkempt beards, and
hair that flew out behind them like a cloud as we raced along. They
wore coarse frieze coats, with long full skirts coming down to their
heels, and loose trousers tucked into great Wellington boots, so
redolent of musk and train oil that every time their owner kicked
the plank beneath his feet, in his energy to overcome some unusual
difficulty, an odour was wafted to us that was far from resembling
those that come from Araby the Blest.
Our progress was both noisy and exciting. On coming to a bad place
the drivers stood up, stamped with excitement, shouting to their
team, and addressing them in a stream of terms both of endearment and
abuse. The horses tossed their heads as they struggled and plunged,
the bells jangling furiously, and we could only hold tight as the
light carriage bounded over hole or mound.
Carriage-hire is dear, each drosky costing about one rouble and a
half an hour; a rouble is nearly 3s. 4d. in English money.
The dust during the summer in and about Sevastopol is quite remarkable,
and can be only equalled by the mud in winter. The soil is principally
of a description of chalk that rapidly pulverises during dry weather,
and equally rapidly dissolves during wet. The result is that in summer
the town and country seem wrapped in clouds of fine penetrating dust,
and during winter the mud is ancle-deep.
Within ten minutes of our start we were as white as millers, and
half-choked besides, as, perfectly regardless of our wishes and
requests, the drivers occasionally amused themselves by racing, or else
insisted upon keeping close to the wheels of the preceding carriage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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