PERSECUTIONS IN TOGAROG.
The flight of time brings us to the year 1855--the epoch of the Crimean
War.
Ever since the days when Bonaparte was driven from burning Moscow, there
was a popular belief that the Russian soldiery was superior to that of
the western nations. The Emperor Nicholas was a thorough soldier as well
as a tyrant, possessing an enormous and well-equipped army, which he
deemed invincible. This boasted superiority was now to be tested. For
years the Russians had been groaning under heavy taxes. During this
period they had been finding fault with their central government in a
mild, Siberia-fearing manner. To keep them from brooding on their
oppressed condition, visions of glory and conquest were to be opened to
them by a foreign war. As the patriotic enthusiasm and military fervor
increased, the praises of Nicholas were sounded throughout the vast
dominion. "The coming war was regarded by many as a kind of crusade, and
the most exaggerated expectations were entertained of its results. The
old Eastern question was at last to be solved in accordance with Russian
ideals, and Nicholas was about to realize Catherine's grand scheme of
driving the Turks out of Europe. That the enemy could prevent the
accomplishment of these schemes was regarded as impossible. 'We have
only to throw our hats at them,' became a favorite expression."[10]
The greater portion of the army was concentrated at the Southern
extremity of Russia, for it was here that the fleets of the allied
powers would be encountered. Like devastating swarms of locusts the
semi-barbarous warriors descended upon the fertile fields, destroying
all that lay in their path. Great was the misery of the peasantry in
that section of the Empire; greater still the hardships endured by the
Jews, who were despoiled of their possessions and driven from their
homes.
In the village of Togarog the Jewish quarter was exactly as we last saw
it--poverty-stricken and dilapidated. Nothing appeared to be changed in
it except the miserable inhabitants. The Governor of Alexandrovsk
continued to persecute the Jews with relentless ferocity, and the
kidnapping of their children was followed by other acts almost as cruel.
If a Jew was suspected of possessing money, he was forced by the gentle
persuasion of the Governor's men to disgorge. Broken in fortune and in
spirits, the Israelites were indeed in a pitiable plight.
Mordecai Winenki was reduced to dire want. Deprived of the means of
livelihood by the removal of his former pupils, despoiled of his meagre
savings, the reward of years of toil, there was no occupation open to
him but to peddle, the meagre income from which, added to the earnings
of his wife by knitting and sewing for the neighboring peasantry, gave
them a scanty subsistence.
For six days of each week they toiled patiently, saving and scraping to
provide for the holy Sabbath, the celebration of which alone compensated
for days of misfortune and privation. On the Sabbath all work was laid
aside; the dreary room blazed with the lights of many candles; white,
unsullied linen adorned the table; a substantial meal was served, and
joy returned to the oppressed and weary hearts. Then the father and
mother spoke lovingly of the dear ones whom a cruel despotism had torn
from them, and a prayer of thanks was sent to the God of Israel that one
of the boys, at least, was alive and well; for Mendel since his arrival
in Kief had regularly corresponded with his parents, and his progress
and welfare were in a measure a compensation for the trials they had
endured. Of Jacob they had never discovered a trace, and they had long
since believed him dead.
It was the Sabbath eve. Mordecai and his wife were seated in their
humble little room, happy for the time being, in spite of their
deplorable condition. A sudden noise in the street interrupted their
conversation. The narrow Jewish quarter became animated, and a company
of Russian soldiers, led by the Elder of the village and followed by a
group of ragged urchins, marched with martial tread through the crooked
lane.
"Soldiers!" cried Mordecai and his wife, in one breath. "God help us,
they will quarter them on us!"
It was the advance guard of the great army that had entered Togarog.
Before Mordecai and his wife could recover from their fright, the door
opened and half a dozen soldiers entered the room.
"Give us something to eat!" cried one of the men, boisterously, as he
relieved himself of his gun and knapsack. His example was followed by
his comrades.
"We are hungry," said another of the men. "We have had nothing to eat
since five o'clock this morning. Get us our supper!"
"We have nothing to give you," replied Mordecai, trembling. "Why do you
come to us?"
"Not from choice, I can tell you," said a soldier, angrily. "Lots were
cast and we were unlucky enough to be sent here. As we are here,
however, let us make the best of it and see what your larder contains."
"Bah!" said another, as Mordecai did not move; "you can't expect these
people to wait upon us! We must help ourselves," and suiting the action
to the word, he strode to the cupboard and pulled it open.
The harvest was more plentiful than they had anticipated. Cooking, like
all other work, being forbidden on the Sabbath, provisions sufficient
for the holy day were prepared on Friday, and stood temptingly upon the
shelves. In a twinkling the succulent viands were placed upon the table
and quickly devoured by the half-famished soldiers. The repast, however,
failed to satisfy the hunger of these sturdy warriors.
"Come," cried one of them, "what else have you to eat?"
"Nothing," answered Mordecai, sullenly.
"You lie, Jew. Tell us where we may find something to eat."
"You have just eaten all there was in the house," said Mordecai, gulping
down a rising lump in his throat, as he thought of the fast he would
have to endure on the morrow.
"Then give us money that we may buy our own food!" shouted one of the
soldiers.
"I have no money; it is all gone, all gone," said the poor man, sadly.
"Ha! ha! ha! that is a good joke!" retorted the soldier, while his
companions laughed immoderately. "A Jew without money! I'll wager there
is gold and silver in every closet. I know you Jews; you are sly dogs."
"Look for yourselves," cried Mordecai, driven to desperation. "You are
welcome to all the gold and silver you can find."
The soldiers took him at his word and began to ransack the house, while
Mordecai and Leah, paralyzed with fear, great beads of perspiration
starting from their foreheads, sat idly by and watched the work of
destruction. Not an article of furniture was left entire in the wild
search for treasure, which, according to popular belief, every Jew was
supposed to possess. Finding nothing, they bestowed a few resounding
curses upon the inmates of the house, and in sheer desperation wended
their way to the village inn and sought the solace of Basilivitch's
vodka.
Poor Mordecai! Poor Leah! For hours they sat just as the soldiers had
left them, great tears streaming down their pale and haggard faces,
viewing the destruction of their few earthly possessions, the loss of
all they could still call their own. They knew not what course to
pursue, whether to remain or to flee. The unexpected blow appeared to
have robbed them of their faculties; all power of reflection seemed to
have left them, and trembling and groaning they remained where they
were, in fearful expectancy of what might follow.
Towards midnight the soldiers returned. The liberal potations in which
they had indulged had washed away the last semblance of humanity. Food
and money had been the motives of their previous excesses, but on their
return, hunger and cupidity had made way for lust. Mordecai's wife
became the object of their insults, and in the resistance which she and
her husband offered, both were beaten unmercifully. Finally, the
soldiers, overpowered by the close quarters and by the fumes of the
wretched liquor they had imbibed, dropped off, one by one, into a
drunken sleep.
"Let us take what we can, Leah," said the wretched man, after assuring
himself that the soldiers were all fast asleep, "and let us flee."
"We dare carry nothing--we dare not even travel, for this is the
Sabbath," answered Leah, sadly.
Poor Jews! In the midst of sorrow, as in the midst of joy, the behests
of their holy religion are never forgotten.
"Yes, we may travel," replied Mordecai. "It is a matter of more
importance than life and death, and the Talmud authorizes the
desecration of the Sabbath in time of great danger."
"Then let us go at once," whispered Leah.
Hand in hand they left the miserable hut, the place they had for so many
years called home, and wandered out into the world, without a prospect
to cheer them on their desolate way.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 10: Wallace.]