ELIZABETH; OR, THE EXILES OF SIBERIA. A TALE, FOUNDED UPON FACTS. FROM THE FRENCH OF MME. SOPHIE RISTAUD COTTIN. INTRODUCTION. THE story of "Elizabeth, or The Exiles of Siberia," is one whose novel descriptions of unfamiliar scenes, perfect simplicity of plot and naturalness of incident, singular pathos and tenderness of sentiment, have united to make it one of the choicest and most interesting tales in any language. The purity and noble elevation of its characters have commended it as the best kind of fictional literaturę to place in the hands of the young, while maturer minds find a true pleasure in reading and re-reading it. Its translation from the original French into several other tongues is one of the best evidences of its admirable characteristics. Madame Sophie Ristaud Cottin, the writer of this touching story, was born at Touneins, France, in the year 1773. At the early age of seventeen she married M. Cottin, a wealthy Bordeaux banker, who left her a widow within three years. Literature was rather a recreation than a pursuit with Madame Cottin; her first work, indeed, (a novel called Claire d'Albe,) was published in 1798 in order to help a friend. Her benevolent purposes, however, were generally carried out by means of the wealth left her by her husband; and she never would allow her name to be used on her publications, until the secret was found out by those interested to discover the author of tales which were attracting so much attention. This generous-hearted and highly gifted lady died in Paris, August 25, 1807. Elisabeth was the work on which Madame Cottin bestowed the most care. It was founded upon a fact (as her Preface relates); but the delicacy and interest of the tale, the passion without extravagance and love without sentimentality, the filial pięty and parental tenderness, the adventurous journey of the one friendless, moneyless girl across deserts of ice and snow, through forests, strange cities, wild people, and all manner of perils, these elements are wrought up with that highest perfection of art which reproduces nature. And as long as children and parents and lovers have hearts, so long will the story of "Elizabeth affections of those who read. hold a firm place in the AUTHOR'S PREFACE. THE incident which gave rise to this history is founded in truth. No imagination, however fertile, could produce actions so heroic or sentiments so noble and elevated. The heart alone could inspire them. The daughter who conceived the glorious design of delivering her parents from exile, and who carried this design into execution in spite of the various and almost insurmountable obstacles which opposed her, is not the child of fiction, but of nature. She really existed, nay, does still exist, and should my tale possess any of the powers of attraction it will from this source be principally derived. Authors have been frequently accused of representing the beauties of virtue with too bold a pencil and in colors too vivid. Far am I, however, from presuming to insinuate that this criticism is applicable to myself, who possess not the abilities requisite to attain this brilliant though creative talent; nor do I conceive that it is in the power of the most eloquent author, by all the studied embellishments and decorations of language, to add a single charm to the innate beauties of virtue; on the contrary, she is in herself so far superior to the adscititious aids of ornament that it would rather appear impossible to describe her in all her native dignity and loveliness. This is the chief difficulty I have experienced in writing Elizabeth. The real heroine is far superior to mine, and has gone through more perils. By bestowing a guide upon Elizabeth, and in terminating her journey at Moscow, I have considerably diminished her fatigue and danger, and consequently her merit. But there are many who are not sufficiently sensible how paramount is the duty to parents, and therefore know not to what extent this duty will instigate a child, at once affectionate and enterprising, when achieving the service and preservation of a beloved parent; to such, had I related the whole truth, my tale might have borne the appearance of exaggeration or improbability, and to them a recital of long fatigues, though unable to exhaust the courage and perseverance of a heroine of eighteen, might yet appear tedious and uninteresting. The scene of the principal anecdote of this story is removed as far as Siberia; yet I must add that it was unnecessary for me to extend my researches to so distant a region, since every country affords traits of filial piety, and of mothers animated with the glow of parental tenderness. ELIZABETH. I. N the banks of the Irtish, which rises in Calmuck Tartary, and falls into the Oby, is situated Tobolsk,* the capital of Siberia; † bounded on the north by forests eleven hundred versts in length, extending to the borders of the Frozen Ocean, and interspersed with rocky mountains covered with perpetual snows. Around it are Tobolsk, or Tobolski, is the residence of a governor and of the Greek Archbishop of Siberia. It is situated at the confluence of the Irtish and the Tobol, and is built partly upon a little hill on the east of the Irtish, so that it is divided into upper and lower. The governor's palace is in the citadel, some part of which was still in ruins when Kotzebue arrived there, as an exile, in 1800. sterile plains, whose frozen sands have seldom received an impression from the human foot, and numerous frigid lakes, or rather stagnant marshes, whose icy streams never watered a meadow nor opened to the sunbeam the beauties of a flower. On approaching nearer to the pole, these stately productions of nature, whose sheltering foliage is so grateful to the weary traveller, totally disappear. Brambles, dwarf birches, and shrubs alone ornament this desolate spot; and, farther on, even these vanish, leaving nothing but swamps covered with a useless moss, and presenting, as it were, the last efforts of expiring nature. But still, amidst the horror and gloom of an eternal winter, nature displays some of her grandest spectacles: the Aurora Borealis,* enclosing the horizon like a Tobolsk contains several churches; its inhabitants are computed at 15,000 souls. The bazar, or market-resplendent arch, emits columns of quivering place, swarms with Kalmuck merchants, who bring goods from India; but the principal trade of Tobolsk consists in furs. In this city provisions are very cheap. + Siberia is the most northern country of the Russian empire in Asia. It is bounded on the east by the sea of Japan, on the south by Chinese Tartary, on the west by European Russia, and on the North by the Frozen Ocean. As this immense country, more than 2,000 English miles in length, scarcely contains more than 3,500,000 inhabitants, the emperors of Russia send thither all the criminals of the empire, condemned to exile by the sentence of a court of justice, and all persons suspected of crimes against the state, often without their having been summoned to a single interrogatory or knowing the cause of their banishment. The people who inhabited Siberia when it was conquered in 1777 by Yermak, a Cossack chief, were the Tartars, the Vogouls, and the Ostiacks. The verst is a measure which serves to mark distance in Russia, like the mile in England and the league in France. Three versts are nearly equal to two English miles. *The Aurora Borealis is a brilliant phenomenon of nature, which exists almost exclusively to the northern regions of the terrestrial globe, though some travellers have asserted that the South Pole has likewise its Aurora Australis. It is a sort of circular cloud, extended over the horizon, from which issue spouts, sheafs, and columns of fire of different hues, yellow, blood-color, red, blue, violet, &c. The matter of which the Aurora Borealis is composed appears to have its seat in the atmosphere, at a considerable height, the same Aurora having been seen at Petersburg, Naples, Rome, Lisbon, and even at Cadiz. M. de Mairan, in his treatise on the Aurora Borealis, maintains that these phenomena are generally at an elevation of from three to nine miles. The progress of electricity, in the century which has just passed, promises a sure way to the physical causes of the Aurora Borealis, whose rockets, spouts, and sheets of light seem to be so many electrical currents, which float in the highly rarified air of the elevated regions of the atmosphere. |