Never in my life did I flog so unmercifully, or whirl along so fast, but many a verst had to be traversed, the mettled horses flagged and panted, forcing me to relax my speed, and it was very late when I drew near Batschuvatz, and saw a crimson glow, as of sunset, bursting through the trees. When I got nearer, I perceived that it was a conflagration, and the smell of burning wood reached me; and presently, as I dashed into the village, clouds of smoke half-blinded me. The cotton mill was in flames, but I hastened on, and saw by the red glare over the pine-tops, that Prince Emindoff’s palace was also burning.
Then my horses snorted and trembled, and planting their feet firmly, refused to stir, and the wind drove down upon me a volley of eddying smoke, mixed with sparks, and through this I dimly saw that the block of stone houses was also in a blaze. Flames were gushing forth from the lower windows, against the doors were heaped a quantity of massive logs, so as to bar all egress, and round the conflagration surged a dark crowd of human forms, hoarsely murmuring, and waving torches here and there.
“The people,” thought I; “but why do they not extinguish the fire? Why—”
The half-unconscious question was answered by a roar that greeted the appearance on the roof of one of the houses of a number of persons, who had evidently been driven upwards by the flames, which now spouted forth in fiery cascades from even the upper windows. I recognised my friends, Emma Murray, pale and fainting, supported by Vaughan, her old white-haired father, who looked gigantic through the glare and glow of the yellow fire-light, the steward Wohler, and others. The yell that greeted them was fierce enough to have broken from the throats of exulting demons, and left no doubt that the fire was the work of incendiary hands, and that Paul had really saved me from the horrid doom impending over the rest of the foreign settlers.
I could not bear to see it. I rushed forward, forgetful of all risk to myself, and in my broken Russian appealed to the bystanders to aid those within, offering a reward for help, and menacing the recusants with the vengeance of the Government. A dreadful clamour arose; I was hustled, surrounded, and at one time in peril of being tossed, as Black Ivan proposed, into the fire. But at that very moment the walls bent, the roof crashed in, and while the unhappy group upon the burning house was lost for ever to view in the fiery gulf below, a mass of burning beams and brickwork rained around, scattering the multitude, and injuring many, and among others myself, for I was struck senseless by a falling piece of timber. When I recovered, I was on a bed in one of the forester’s huts, cared for by the rough inmates, who had picked me up, trampled and bloody, after the crowd of furious serfs had departed, and thanks to them I was enabled to reach Moscow, and, in due time, St. Petersburg. Martial law was proclaimed in the district of Mohilew, but I believe no punishment ever fell on the perpetrators of the cruel and wanton outrage I have chronicled.
PRINCE ALFRED’S ROMANCE.
Amidst the solemn discussions of politics; in the presence of a revolution, and in full view of an empty throne; nobody ventures to introduce what may seem like levity, or the “personal talk” which Wordsworth looked down upon so grandly: but I have no sort of doubt that, while columns upon columns of the newspapers have been daily filled with the politics of Greece, everybody in England would have liked better to read twenty lines about Prince Alfred’s feelings and sayings than all the wisdom of all the statesmen. I have no doubt whatever that the commonest thought of all, in England, and possibly on the Continent, has been the longing to know how the youth himself felt when a crown was offered him—when a whole people was worshipping him, and he was not allowed to accept the homage or the throne. The Queen’s children have been brought up in an atmosphere of such good sense, and with such habits of practical activity, that it seems to have been taken for granted at once that Prince Alfred would see, as a man of full age would, the difficulties and perplexities that he would have had to deal with as King of Greece; so that his state of mind has probably been a more dignified one than a mere tame obedience to other people’s decisions: but still,—he is eighteen,—he is at the very age of enthusiasm and confidence, when all things seem possible to an heroic spirit: and we may easily conceive that there may have been some struggle at heart while the young midshipman was under orders to go aloft, or trying to attend to his lessons in his cabin, in preparation for his examination for lieutenant.
Of one thing he cannot be deprived—that of having as romantic a story as any young person of his generation. It is true, every youth and maiden, of any age or country, believes that his or her own story is as perfect a romance as life ever yielded, and there may be nobody of eighteen who has not felt much as Prince Alfred feels to-day<!— see list of hyphenated words -->; but there is the great difference in his case, that the thing is true. The story cannot appear more romantic to him than it does to everybody else. Hence all the world is overflowing with sympathy towards him; whereas it would only smile at the emotions excited in other young people by the contemplation of their own story.
The Prince and his brothers and sisters have been brought up in the businesslike and simple way which is usually supposed to belong to the strongest sort of royalty. It is everywhere understood that there is more formality and exclusiveness in the habits and manners of constitutional sovereigns and their families and courts than is seen where the monarch has such entire possession of power as not to have to think of the appearance of it: but, in the case of our Royal family, while there is all possible watchfulness over the dignities and claims of all its members, there is none of the helplessness of grandeur, none of the pernicious leisure for dreaming, and temptation to a relaxing egotism—which are the worst liabilities of princes. The Queen’s children have done real work of head and hands all their lives. After school hours, their play was another