I have made occasional mention of the exiles of 1825, and it may be
well to explain how they went to Siberia. In the early part of the
present century Russia was not altogether happy. The Emperor Paul,
called to the throne by the death of Catherine II., did not display
marked ability, but, ‘on the contrary, quite the reverse.’ What his
mother had done for the improvement of the country he was inclined to
undo. Under his reign great numbers were banished to Siberia upon
absurd charges or mere caprice. The emperor issued manifestoes of a
whimsical character, one of which was directed against round hats, and
another against shoe strings. The glaring colors now used upon
bridges, distance posts, watch boxes, and other imperial property,
were of his selection, and so numerous were his eccentricities that he
was declared of unsound mind. In March, 1801, he was smothered in his
palace, which he had just completed. It is said that within an hour
after the fact of his death was known round hats appeared on the
street in great numbers.
Alexander I. endeavored to repair some of the evils of his father’s
reign. He recalled many exiles from Siberia, suppressed the secret
inquisition, and restored many rights of which the people had been
deprived. His greatest abilities were displayed during the wars with
France. After the general peace he devoted himself to inspecting and
developing the resources of the country, and was the first, and thus
far the only, emperor of Russia to cross the Ural Mountains and visit
the mines of that region. His death occurred during a tour through the
southern provinces of the empire. Some of his reforms were based upon
the principles of other European governments, which he endeavored to
study. On his return from England he told his council that the best
thing he saw there was the opposition in Parliament. He thought it a
part of the government machinery, and regretted it could not be
introduced in Russia.
Constantine, the eldest brother of Alexander I., had relinquished his
right to the crown, thus breaking the regular succession. From the
time of Paul a revolutionary party had existed, and once at least it
plotted the assassination of Alexander. There was an interregnum of
three weeks between the death of Alexander and the assumption of power
by his second brother, Nicholas. The change of succession strengthened
the revolutionists, and they employed the interregnum to organize a
conspiracy for seizing the government.
The conspiracy was wide spread, and included many of the ablest men of
the day. The army was seriously implicated. The revolutionists desired
a constitutional government, and their rallying cry of “CONSTITUTIA!”
was explained to the soldiers as the name of Constantine’s wife. The
real design of the movement was not confided to the rank and file, who
supposed they were fighting for Constantine and the regular succession
of the throne.
Nicholas learned of the conspiracy the day before his ascension; the
Imperial guard of the palace was in the plot, and expected to seize
the emperor’s person. The guard was removed during the night and a
battalion from Finland substituted. It is said that on receiving
intelligence of the assembling of the insurgents, the emperor called
his wife to the chapel of the palace, where he spent a few moments in
prayer. Then taking his son, the present emperor, he led him to the
soldiers of the new guard, confided him to their protection, and
departed for St. Isaac’s Square to suppress the revolt. The soldiers
kept the boy until the emperor’s return, and would not even surrender
him to his tutor.
The plot was so wide-spread that the conspirators had good promise of
success, but whole regiments backed out at the last moment and left
only a forlorn hope to begin the struggle. Nicholas rode with his
officers to St. Isaac’s square, and twice commanded the assembled
insurgents to surrender. They refused, and were then saluted with “the
last argument of kings.” A storm of grape shot, followed by a charge
of cavalry, put in flight all who were not killed, and ended the
insurrection.
A long and searching investigation followed, disclosing all the
ramifications of the plot. The conspirators declared they were led to
what they undertook by the unfortunate condition of the country and
the hope of improving it. Nicholas, concealed behind a screen, heard
most of the testimony and confessions, and learned therefrom a
wholesome lesson. The end of the affair was the execution of five
principal conspirators and the banishment of many others to Siberia.
The five that suffered capital punishment were hanged in front of the
Admiralty buildings in St. Petersburg. One rope was broken, and the
victim, falling to the ground, suffered such agony that the officer in
charge of the execution sent to the emperor asking what to do. “Take a
new rope and finish your duty,” was the unpitying answer of Nicholas.
The accession of Nicholas and the attempted revolt occurred on the
14th December, (O.S.) 1825. Within six months from that date the most
of the conspirators reached Siberia. They were sent to different
districts, some to labor in the mines for specified periods, and
others to become colonists. They included some of the ablest men in
Russia, and were nearly all young and enterprising. Many of them were
married, and were followed into exile by their wives, though the
latter were only permitted to go to Siberia on condition of never
returning. Each of the exiles was deprived of all civil or political
rights, and declared legally dead. His property was confiscated to the
crown, and his wife considered a widow and could marry again if she
chose. To the credit of the Russian women, not one availed herself of
this privilege. I was told that nearly every married exile’s family
followed him, and some of the unmarried ones were followed by their
sisters and mothers.
I have previously spoken of the effect of the unfortunates of the 14th
December upon the society and manners of Siberia. These men enjoyed
good social positions, and their political faults did not prevent
their becoming well received. Their sentence to labor in the mines was
not rigorously enforced, and lasted but two or three years at
farthest. They were subsequently employed at indoor work, and, as time
wore on and passion subsided, were allowed to select residences in
villages. Very soon they were permitted to go to the larger towns, and
once there, those whose wives possessed property in their own right
built themselves elegant houses and took the position to which their
abilities entitled them.
[Illustration: HOME OF TWO EXILES.]
General Korsackoff told me that when he first went to serve in Siberia
there was a ball one evening at the Governor General’s. Noticing one
man who danced the Mazurka splendidly, he whispered to General
Mouravieff and asked his name. “That,” said Mouravieff, “is a
revolutionist of 1825. He is one of the best men of society in
Irkutsk.”
After their first few years of exile, the Decembrists had little to
complain of except the prohibition to return to Europe. To men whose
youth was passed in brilliant society and amid the gayeties of the
capital, this life in Siberia was no doubt irksome. Year after year
went by, and on the twenty-fifth anniversary of their banishment they
looked for pardon. Little else was talked of among them for some
weeks, but they were doomed to disappointment. Nicholas had no
forgiving disposition, and those who plotted his overthrow were little
likely to obtain favor, even though a quarter of a century had elapsed
since their crime.
But the death of Nicholas and the coronation of Alexander II. wrought
a change for the exiles. Nicholas began his reign with an act of
severity; Alexander followed his ascension with one of clemency. By
imperial ukase he pardoned the exiles of 1825, restored them to their
civil and political rights, and permitted their return to Europe. As
the fathers were legally dead when sent into exile, the children born
to them in Siberia were illegitimate in the eye of the law and could
not even bear their own family name. Properly they belonged to the
government, and inherited their father’s exile in not being permitted
to go to Europe. The ukase removed all these disabilities and gave the
children full authority to succeed to their father’s hereditary titles
and social and political rights.
These exiles lived in different parts of Siberia, but chiefly in the
governments of Irkutsk and Yeneseisk. But the thirty years of the
reign of Nicholas were not uneventful. Death removed some of the
unfortunates. Others had dwelt so long in Siberia that they did not
wish to return to a society where they would be strangers. Some who
were unmarried at the time of their exile had acquired families in
Siberia, and thus fastened themselves to the country. Not more than
half of those living at the time of Alexander’s coronation availed
themselves of his permission to return to Russia. The princes
Trubetskoi and Volbonskoi hesitated for some time, but finally
concluded to return. Both died in Europe quite recently. Their
departure was regretted by many persons in Irkutsk, as their absence
was quite a loss to society. I heard some curious reminiscences
concerning the Prince Volbonskoi. It was said that his wife and
children, with the servants, were the occupants of the large and
elegant house, the prince living in a small building in the court
yard. He had a farm near the town and sold the various crops to his
wife. Both the princes paid great attention to educating their
children and fitting them for ultimate social position in Europe.
While in Irkutsk I saw one of the Decembrists who had grown quite
wealthy as a wine merchant. Another of these exiles was mentioned, but
I did not meet him. Another resided at Selenginsk, a third near Verkne
Udinsk, and a fourth near Lake Baikal. There are several at other
points, but I believe the whole number of the Decembrists now in
Siberia is less than a dozen. Forty-two years have brought them to the
brink of the grave, and very soon the active spirits of that unhappy
revolt will have passed away.
The other political exiles in Siberia are almost entirely Poles. Every
insurrection in Poland adds to the population of Asiatic Russia, and
accomplishes very little else. The revolt of 1831 was prolific in this
particular, and so was that of 1863. Revolutions in Poland have been
utterly hopeless of success since the downfall and division of the
kingdom, but the Poles remain undaunted.
I do not propose entering into a discussion of the Polish question, as
it would occupy too much space and be foreign to the object of my
book; but I will briefly touch a few points. The Russians and Poles
were not inclined to amiability when both had separate governments.
Europe has never been converted to Republican principles, and however
much the Western powers may sympathize with Poland, they would be
unwilling to adopt for themselves the policy they desire for Russia.
England holds India and Ireland, regardless of the will of Indians
and Irish. France has her African territory which did not ask to be
taken under the tri-color, and we are all aware of the relations once
held by her emperor toward Mexico. It is much easier to look for
generosity and forbearance in others than in ourselves.
Those who are disposed to shed tears over the fate of Poland, should
remember that the unhappy country has only suffered the fortune of
war. When Russia and Poland began to measure swords the latter was the
more powerful, and for a time overran a goodly portion of the
Muscovite soil. We all know there has been a partition of Poland, but
are we equally aware that the Russia of Rurik and Ivan IV. was
partitioned in 1612 by the Swedes (at Novgorod) and the Poles (at
MOSCOW?) In 1612 the Poles held Moscow. The Russians rose against them
in that year, just as the Poles have since risen against the Russians,
but with a different result.
The Polish exiles of 1881 and previous years were pardoned by the same
ukase that liberated the Russian exiles of 1825. Just before the
insurrection of 1863 there were not many Poles in Siberia, except
those who remained of their own free will. The last insurrection
caused a fresh deportation, twenty-four thousand being banished beyond
the Ural Mountains. Ten thousand of these were sent to Eastern
Siberia, the balance being distributed in the governments west of the
Yenesei. The decree of June, 1867, allowed many of these prisoners to
return to Poland.
The government has always endeavored to scatter the exiles and prevent
their congregating in such numbers as to cause inconvenience. The
prime object of deportation to Siberia is to people the country and
develop its natural wealth. Though Russia occupies nearly an eighth of
the land on the face of the globe, her population numbers but about
seventy millions. It is her policy to people her territory, and she
bends her energies to this end. She does not allow the emigration of
her subjects to any appreciable extent, and she punishes but few
crimes with death. Notwithstanding her general tolerance on religious
matters, she punishes with severity a certain sect that discourages
propagation. There are other facts I might mention as illustrations
were it not for the fastidiousness of the present age. Siberia is much
more in need of population than European Russia, and exiles are sent
thither to become inhabitants.
So far as the matter of sentence goes there is little difference
between political and criminal exiles. The sentence is in accordance
with the offence to be punished, and may be light or severe. Some
exiles are simply banished to Siberia, and can do almost anything
except go away. They may travel as they choose, engage in business,
and even hold official position. It is no bar to their progress that
they emigrated involuntarily. If they forget their evil ways and are
good citizens, others will be equally oblivious and encourage them.
They have special inducements to become colonists and till the soil or
develop its mineral wealth. With honesty and industry they have at
least a fair chance in life.
Some exiles are confined to certain districts, governments, towns, or
villages, and must report at stated intervals to the Chief of Police.
These intervals are not the same in all cases, but vary from one day
to a month, or even more. Some are not allowed to go beyond specified
limits without express permission from the authorities, while others
may absent themselves as they choose during the intervals of reporting
to the police. Some can engage in whatever business they find
advantageous, while others are prohibited certain employments but not
restricted as to others.
If a man is sentenced to become a colonist, the government gives him a
house or means to build it, a plot of ground, and the necessary tools.
He is not allowed to be any thing else than a colonist. Criminals of a
certain grade cannot engage in commerce, and the same restriction
applies to ‘politiques.’ No criminal can be a teacher, either in a
public or private school, and no politique can teach in a public
school. While I was in Siberia an order was issued prohibiting the
latter class engaging in any kind of educational work except music,
drawing, and painting.
Many criminal and political offenders are ‘drafted in the army’ in
much the same manner that our prisons sent their able-bodied men into
military service during our late war. Their terms of enlistment are
various, but generally not less than fifteen years. The men receive
the pay and rations of soldiers, and have the possibility of promotion
before them. They are sent to regiments stationed at distant posts in
order to diminish the chances of desertion. The Siberian and Caucasian
regiments receive the greater portion of these recruits. Many members
of the peculiar religious sect mentioned elsewhere are sent to the
Caucasian frontier. They are said to be very tractable and obedient,
but not reliable for aggressive military operations.
An exile may receive from his friends money to an amount not exceeding
twenty-five roubles a month. If his wife has property of her own she
may enjoy a separate income. Those confined in prisons or kept at
labor may receive money to the same extent, but it must pass through
the hands of the officials. Of course the occupants of prisons are fed
by government, and so are those under sentence of hard labor. The men
restricted to villages and debarred from profitable employment receive
monthly allowances in money and flour, barely enough for their
subsistence. There are complaints that dishonest officials steal a
part of these allowances, but the practice is not as frequent as
formerly. A prisoner’s comfort in any part of the world depends in a
great measure upon the character of the officer in charge of him.
Siberia offers no exception to this rule.
Formerly the Polish exiles enjoyed more social freedom than at
present. The cause of the change was thus explained to me:
Five or six years ago a Polish noble who had been exiled lived at
Irkutsk and enjoyed the friendship of several officers. The Amoor had
been recently opened, and this man asked and obtained the privilege of
visiting it, giving his parole not to leave Siberia. At Nicolayevsk
he embraced the opportunity to escape, and advised others to do the
same. This breach of confidence led to greater circumspection, and the
distrust was increased by the conduct of other exiles. Since that time
the Poles have been under greater restraint.
Many books on Russia contain interesting stories of the brutality
toward exiles, both on the road and after they have reached their
destination. Undoubtedly there have been instances of cruelty, just as
in every country in Christendom, but I do not believe the Russians are
worse in this respect than other people. I saw a great many exiles
during my journey through Siberia. Frequently when on the winter road
I met convoys of them, and never observed any evidence of needless
severity. Five-sixths of the exiles I met on the road were in sleighs
like those used by Russian merchants when traveling. There were
generally three persons in a sleigh, and I thought them comfortably
clad. I could see no difference between them and their guards, except
that the latter carried muskets and sabres. Any women among them
received special attention, particularly when they were young and
pretty. I saw two old ladies who were handled tenderly by the soldiers
and treated with apparent distinction. When exiles were on foot, their
guards marched with them and the women of the party rode in sleighs.
The object of deportation is to people Siberia; if the government
permitted cruelties that caused half of the exiles to die on the road,
as some accounts aver, it would be inconsistent with its policy. As
before mentioned, the ripe age to which most of the Decembrists lived,
is a proof that they were not subjected to physical torture. In the
eyes of the government these men were the very worst offenders, and if
they did not suffer hardships and cruelties it is not probable that
all others would be generally ill-used. I do not for a moment suppose
exile is either attractive or desirable, but, so far as I know, it
does not possess the horrors attributed to it. The worst part of exile
is to be sent to hard labor, but the unpleasant features of such
punishment are not confined to Siberia. Plenty of testimony on this
point can be obtained at Sing Sing and Pentonville.
It is unpleasant to leave one’s home and become an involuntary
emigrant to a far country. The Siberian road is one I would never
travel out of pure pleasure, and I can well understand that it must be
many times disagreeable when one journeys unwillingly. But, once in
Siberia, the worldly circumstances of many exiles are better than they
were at home. If a man can forget that he is deprived of liberty, and
I presume this is the most difficult thing of all, he is not, under
ordinary circumstances, very badly off in Siberia. Certainly many
exiles choose to remain when their term of banishment is ended. A
laboring man is better paid for his services and is more certain of
employment than in European Russia. He leads a more independent life
and has better prospects of advancement than in the older
civilization. Many Poles say they were drawn unwillingly into the acts
that led to their exile, and if they return home they may be involved
in like trouble again. In Poland they are at the partial mercy of
malcontents who have nothing to lose and can never remain at ease. In
Siberia there are no such disturbing influences.
About ten thousand exiles are sent to Siberia every year. Except in
times of political disturbance in Poland or elsewhere, nearly all the
exiles are offenders against society or property. The notion that they
are generally ‘politiques,’ is very far from correct. As well might
one suppose the majority of the convicts at Sing Sing were from the
upper classes of New York. The regular stream of exiles is composed
almost entirely of criminal offenders; occasional floods of
revolutionists follow the attempts at independence.
I made frequent inquiries concerning the condition of the exiles, and
so far as I could learn they were generally well off. I say
‘generally,’ because I heard of some cases of poverty and hardship,
and doubtless there were others that I never heard of. A large part of
the Siberian population is made up of exiles and their descendants. A
gentleman frequently sent me his carriage during my stay at Irkutsk.
It was managed by an intelligent driver who pleased me with his skill
and dash. One evening, when he was a little intoxicated, my friend and
myself commented in French on his condition, and were a little
surprised to find that he understood us. He was an exile from St.
Petersburg, where he had been coachman to a French merchant.
The clerk of the hotel was an exile, and so was one of the waiters.
_Isvoshchiks_, or hackmen, counted many exiles in their ranks, and so
did laborers of other professions. Occasionally clerks in stores,
market men, boot makers, and tailors ascribed their exile to some
discrepancy between their conduct and the laws. I met a Polish
gentleman in charge of the museum of the geographical society of
Eastern Siberia, and was told that the establishment rapidly improved
in his hands. Two physicians of Irkutsk were ‘unfortunates’ from
Warsaw, and one of them had distanced all competitors in the extent
and success of his practice. Then there were makers of cigarettes,
dealers in various commodities, and professors of divers arts. Some of
the educated Siberians I met told me they had been taught almost
entirely by exiles.
Before the abolition of serfdom a proprietor could send his human
property into exile. He was not required to give any reason, the
record accompanying the order of banishment stating only that the serf
was exiled “by the will of his master.” This privilege was open to
enormous abuse, but happily the ukase of liberty has removed it. The
design of the system was no doubt to enable proprietors to rid
themselves of serfs who were idle, dissolute, or quarrelsome, but had
not committed any act the law could touch.
A proprietor exiling a serf was required to pay his traveling expenses
of twenty-five roubles, and to furnish him an outfit of summer and
winter clothing. A wife was allowed to follow her husband, with all
their children not matured, and all their expenses were to be paid.
The abuse of the system consisted in the power to banish a man who had
committed no offence at all. The loss of services and the expense of
exiling a serf may have been a slight guarantee against this, but if
the proprietor were an unprincipled tyrant or a sensualist, (and he
might be both,) there was no protection for his subjects. It has
happened that the best man on an estate incurred the displeasure of
his owner and went to Siberia in consequence. Exile is a severe
punishment to the Russian peasant, who clings with enduring tenacity
to the place where his youthful days were passed.
Every serf exiled for a minor offense or at the will of his master was
appointed on his arrival in Siberia to live in a specified district.
If he could produce a certificate of good behavior at the end of three
years, he was authorized to clear and cultivate as much land as he
wished. If single he could marry, but he was not compelled to do so.
He was exempt from taxes for twelve years, and after that only paid a
trifle. He had no master and could act for himself in all things
except in returning to Russia. He was under the disadvantage of having
no legal existence, and though the land he worked was his own and no
one could disturb him, he did not hold it under written title. The
criminal who served at labor in the mines was placed, at the
expiration of his sentence, in the same category as the exile for
minor offences. Both cultivated land in like manner and on equal
terms. Some became wealthy and were able to secure the privileges of
citizenship.
[Illustration: TAIL PIECE—QUARTERS]