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One who happens to have read the work of
Villebois can easily comprehend the existence of a state of
society, on the banks of the Volga, a hundred years ago, which
is now impossible, and will soon become incredible. What is
strangest in our narrative has been declared to be true.

II.

We are in Kinesma, a small town on the Volga, between Kostroma and
Nijni-Novgorod. The time is about the middle of the last century,
and the month October.
There was trouble one day, in the palace of Prince Alexis, of
Kinesma. This edifice, with its massive white walls, and its
pyramidal roofs of green copper, stood upon a gentle mound to the
eastward of the town, overlooking it, a broad stretch of the Volga,
and the opposite shore. On a similar hill, to the westward, stood
the church, glittering with its dozen bulging, golden domes. These
two establishments divided the sovereignty of Kinesma between them.
Prince Alexis owned the bodies of the inhabitants, (with the
exception of a few merchants and tradesmen,) and the Archimandrite
Sergius owned their souls.


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