Journalists’ accounts were frequently peppered with observations that dacha locations contained a disproportionate number of foreigners. As usual, Germans were the butt of much unkind comment. Thus, for example, the son of a merchant family recalled rowdy toasts to the Kaiser at the neighboring dacha: “Notwithstanding the fact that the majority of them were German only in name and had been born and bred in Russia, the force of gravitation drew them to the land of their origin with such attraction as to make them avowed traitors to the country of their birth.”87 Germans attained more public prominence than was seemly at their annual Kullerberg celebrations on the eve of St. John’s Day (23 June).88 They were commonly alleged to be ubiquitous all through the summer in dacha settlements. As Vsevolod Krestovskii commented in the mid-1860s: “From May on dacha humanity can be sorted as follows: Pavlovsk is reserved for the beau monde; Novaia Derevnia equals Germans; Krestovskii equals Germans; Petrovskii—Germans again; Poliustrovo—civil servants and—alas!—Germans yet again!”89 An account of 1867 divided the Novaia Derevnia settlement into three parts: the trading area (with its inns, booths, and peddlers), the German district, and the “Jewish quarter” (a name that had taken hold, but in fact this district was not notably more Jewish than others). The staid atmosphere of the German district was in sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere of the Russian area. These differences in temperament had led to violent confrontations between the national groups.90
As the last example suggests, Jews were at least the equal of Germans as objects of disparagement. Of the lake district to the north of St. Petersburg it was observed that “these days Jews are aristocrats too . . . anyone who has money must be an aristocrat.”91 N. A. Leikin, speaking specifically of Pavlovsk, commented on the preponderance of “Jews, Jews, Jews, beginning with stockbrokers and contractors right up to concessionaires—polished Jews who try as hard as they can to cover their garlicky odor with eau de cologne.”92
Finnish peasants were also harshly treated on occasion, though attitudes toward them were on the whole less pointed and more affectionate. The worst that could be said about them was that they were surly and not overly concerned with hygiene; in particular, they took a long time to bury their dead and left manure and human excrement in open pits that fouled the atmosphere.93 The northern side of the Gulf of Finland had the reputation of being expensive (especially given the need to pay customs duties) and not unfailingly welcoming to Russians.94 But Finnish settlements had the compensating advantage of being quiet and safe (Terioki, for example, had none of the public disorder that characterized Russian locations).95
