parts of the Crimea and Sevastopol, and Balaclava, and the sea shining beyond them; and the abundance of its waters, and the mountains that encompass the valley with a line of battlemented walls, make it a favourite spot with the lovers of natural beauty.

Here Madame de Hell and her husband were received at the guest-house of the princess by a double line of richly-dressed servants, drawn up in the vestibule to receive them, and they were conducted into a saloon arranged in the fashion of the East, with gaily painted walls and red silk divans.

Thus far an ungrudging hospitality received every distinguished guest alike, but Madame de Hell was allowed an interview with the princess in her own apartments, a favour which has been permitted to very few ladies.

From her account it appears that Eastern beauty still deserves its reputation, and that the ancient manners and dress are still to be found unaltered in the mountains of the Crimea. Admitted into a fairy apartment looking out on a terraced garden, "a curtain was suddenly raised at the end of the room, and a woman of striking beauty entered," says Madame de Hell, "dressed in a rich costume. She advanced to me with an air of remarkable dignity, took both my hands, kissed me on the two cheeks, and sat down beside me, making many demonstrations of friendship. She wore a great deal of rouge; her eyelids were painted black, and met over the nose, giving her countenance a certain sternness, which nevertheless did not destroy its pleasing effect. A furred velvet vest fitted tight to her still elegant figure, and altogether her appearance surpassed what I had conceived of her beauty. After some time, when I offered to go, she checked me with a very graceful gesture, and said eagerly, 'Pastoi, pastoi,' which is Russian for 'Stay, stay,' and clapped her hands several times. A young girl entered at the signal, and by her mistress's order threw open a folding-door, and immediately I was struck dumb

with surprise and admiration by a most brilliant apparition. Imagine, reader, the most exquisite sultanas of whom poetry and painting have ever tried to convey an idea, and still your conception will fall far short of the enchanting models I had then before me. There were three of them, all equally beautiful and graceful. Two were clad in tunics of crimson brocade, adorned in front with broad gold lace; the tunics were open, and disclosed beneath them cashmere robes, with very tight sleeves terminating in gold fringes. The youngest wore a tunic of azure blue brocade, with silver ornaments: this was the only difference between her dress and that of her sisters. All three had magnificent black hair escaping in countless tresses from a fez of silver filagree, set like a diadem over their ivory foreheads; they wore gold embroidered slippers, and wide trousers drawn close at the ancle. I had never beheld skins so dazzlingly fair, eyelashes so long, or so delicate a bloom of youth. The calm repose that sat on the countenances of these lovely creatures had never been disturbed by any profane glance. No look but their mother's had ever told them they were beautiful; and this thought gave them an inexpressible charm in my eyes. It is not in our Europe where women, exposed to the gaze of crowds, so soon addict themselves to coquetry, that the imagination could conceive such a type of beauty. The features of our young girls are too soon altered by the vivacity of their impressions to allow the eye of the artist to discover in them that divine charm of purity and ignorance with which I was so struck in beholding my Tatar princesses. After embracing me they retired to the end of the room, where they remained standing in those graceful Oriental attitudes which no woman in Europe could imitate. A dozen attendants, muffled in white muslin, were gathered round the door, gazing with respectful curiosity. Their profiles, shown in relief on a dark ground, added to the picturesque character of the scene. This delightful vision lasted an

hour. When the princess saw that I was decided on going away, she signified to me by signs that I should go and see the garden; but though grateful to her for this further mark of attention, I preferred immediately rejoining my husband, being impatient to relate to him all the details of this interview, with which I was completely dazzled."

Travels in the Steppes of the Caspian: see p. 369, English edition.

CHAPTER VI.

SEVASTOPOL.

Road to Sevastopol from Baktchéserai - Conquest and foundation of Sevastopol in 1783-84 - Description of town and fortress-"The Dvoretz "Engineer buildings Fort Alexander and Fort Constantine South Bay The Hulks - Bay of Vessels, now the Docks Description of the barracks Hospitals, Slobodes · Colonel Upton and anecdotes of Russian workmen Sevastopol in 1834 — Reservoir of Sevastopol Sievarna fort The citadel Observations of Sir Howard Douglas on the siege Military stores Arsenals of Russia - Manufactories of fire-arms Cannon foundries Stores come to Sevastopol by the Don and the Azof - The road by the Arabate and Perecop Fortifying of Cape Kazantip - Undefended state of Kertch up to May last - Public gardens Haxthausen on the object of Sevastopol and the Black Sea Fleet the Anglo-French alliance Conclusion.

Chopin on

THE high road from Baktchéserai to Sevastopol is carried entirely along the terrace which separates the chalk from the tertiary ridges of the Steppe. It passes along its whole length over a white clay soil, and in summer is very dry and dusty, except in the valleys of the Katcha and the Belbek. Here the eye is refreshed by the verdure of vineyards and orchards, especially on the banks of the Belbek, where there are several country houses belonging to the superior officers in Sevastopol, and the little Tatar village of Douvankoi offers some charming points of view. From Douvankoi the road follows the valley of the Belbek till it crosses the stream near the village of the same name, and then, after skirting for a moment the sea, it turns again inland, and passing close to Fort Constantine, arrives at Sievarna," the citadel of Sevasto

a

a Douvankoi means the Valley of Prayer (see Pallas's Travels ').

This is the name of the fort

and suburb on the north side of the bay of Sevastopol. "Sievarna " means northern in Russian.

pol, on the north of the Great Bay, which must be crossed to enter the town.

From so important a place as Sevastopol it is a great inconvenience to be obliged to cross the water to reach the high road leading to the interior of the Crimea and Petersburg, but the country is so extremely cut up with ravines to the east of the town, towards Inkerman, that no direct communication by this the shortest route has yet been attempted.

Sevastopol has succeeded the ancient Greek colony of Kherson, with this difference, that as the latter was a great commercial mart, so the former is entirely devoted to warlike purposes, and no considerations of a commercial or manufacturing nature ever entered into the mind of those who founded it. It is in It is in consequence entirely military, and contains nothing but men-of-war, arsenals, barracks, and batteries.

When the conquest of the Crimea had been assured to Russia by the treaty of Constantinople, of the 10th of June, 1783, the Russians found nothing around the magnificent bay of Sevastopol except the little village of Aktiar, placed at the extremity of the bay near Inkerman, under the cliffs of white clay that border its steep shores. During all the time of the Tatar possession of Crimea, this basin, which might have been made an incomparable port, had been neglected. The Tatars called the Great Bay Kadi Liman, and the more inland portion of it, including the careening bay, Avlita.

No sooner were the Russians in possession of it, than within a year they had made preparations for turning to account its natural advantages. Already in the spring of 1784 they began to build houses for the invalids of the fleet, placed near a beautiful spring of water at the extremity of the Bay of Artillery. The fleet at that time consisted of fourteen ships of war in the port, one