THE BEGINNING OF MY LIFE AT VLADIMIR
When I went to get into my sledge at Kosmodemiansk it was harnessed in
the Russian style, three horses abreast, and the shaft horse with the
yoke over its head was gaily jingling the bells.
In Perm and Vyatka the horses are put in tandem, one before the other or
two side by side and the third in front. So my heart throbbed with
delight when I saw the familiar troika.
‘Come now, show us your mettle,’ I said to the young lad who sat smartly
on the box in an unlined sheepskin and stiff gauntlets which barely
allowed his fingers to close enough to take fifteen kopecks from my
hand.
‘We’ll do our best, sir, we’ll do our best. Hey, darlings! Now, sir,’ he
said, turning suddenly to me, ‘you only hold on, there is a hill yonder,
so I will let them go.’
It was a steep descent to the Volga which was used as a road in the
winter.
He certainly did let the horses go. The sledge bounded from right to
left, from left to right, as the horses flew downhill; the driver was
tremendously pleased, and indeed, sinful man that I am, so was I—it is
the Russian temperament.
So I raced with posting horses into 1838—into the best, the brightest
year of my life. I will describe how we saw the New Year in.
Eighty versts from Nizhni, we, _i.e._ Matvey, my valet, and I, went into
the station superintendent’s to warm ourselves. There was a very sharp
frost, and it was windy too. The superintendent, a thin, sickly,
pitiful-looking man, made the inscription in my travelling permit,
dictating every letter to himself and yet making mistakes. I took off my
fur-lined coat and walked up and down the room in immense fur boots,
Matvey was warming himself at the red-hot stove, the superintendent
muttered, while a wooden clock ticked on a faint, cracked note.
‘I say,’ Matvey said to me, ‘it will soon be twelve o’clock, it’s the
New Year, you know. I will bring something,’ he added, looking at me
half-inquiringly, ‘from the stores they gave us at Vyatka.’ And without
waiting for an answer he ran to fetch bottles and a parcel of food.
Matvey, of whom I shall have more to say later, was more than a servant,
he was a friend, a younger brother to me. A Moscow artisan, apprenticed
to Sonnenberg to learn the art of bookbinding, in which Sonnenberg,
however, was not very proficient, he passed into my hands.
I knew that if I refused it would disappoint Matvey, besides I had
nothing against celebrating the day at the posting-station.... The New
Year is a station of a sort.
Matvey brought ham and champagne. The champagne turned out to be frozen
solid; the ham could have been chopped with an axe, it was all
glistening with ice; but _à la guerre comme à la guerre_. ‘May the New
Year bring new happiness.’ Yes indeed, new happiness. Was I not on my
homeward way? Every hour was bringing me nearer to Moscow—my heart was
full of hope.
The frozen champagne did not exactly please the superintendent. I added
half a glass of rum to his wine. This new ‘_half-and-half_’ had a great
success.
The driver, whom I also invited to join us, was still more extreme in
his views; he sprinkled pepper into the glass of foaming wine, stirred
it with a spoon, drank it off at one gulp, uttered a painful sigh and
almost with a moan added: ‘It did scorch fine!’
The superintendent himself tucked me into the sledge, and was so zealous
in his attentions that he dropped the lighted candle into the hay and
could not find it afterwards. He was in great spirits and kept
repeating: ‘You’ve given me a New Year’s Eve, too!’
The scorched driver whipped up the horses.
At eight o’clock on the following evening I reached Vladimir and put up
at the hotel, which is extremely accurately described in the _Tarantass_
with its fowls in rice, its dough-like pastry, and vinegar by way of
Bordeaux.
‘A man was asking for you this morning, he’s waiting at the beer-shop,’
the waiter, who wore the rakish parting and killing lovelocks, which in
old days were only affected by Russian waiters, but are now worn by
Louis Napoleon also, told me after reading my name on my travel permit.
I could not conceive who this could be. ‘But here he is,’ added the
waiter, moving aside.
What I saw first, however, was not a man but a tray of terrific size, on
which were piles of all sorts of good things, a cake and cracknels,
oranges and apples, eggs, almonds, raisins ... and behind the tray
appeared the grey head and blue eyes of the village elder, from my
father’s Vladimir estate.
‘Gavril Semyonitch,’ I cried, and rushed to hug him. This was the first
of our own people, the first figure out of my former life whom I met
after imprisonment and exile. I could not take my eyes off the
intelligent old man, and felt as though I would never say all I had to
say to him. He was the living proof of my nearness to Moscow, to my
home, to my friends; only three days before, he had seen them all, he
brought me greetings from all of them.... So it was not so far away
after all!
The governor, who was a clever Greek called Kuruta, had a thorough
knowledge of human nature, and had long ceased to have a strong
preference for good or evil. He grasped my position at once and did not
make the slightest attempt to worry me. Office work was not even
referred to; he commissioned me and a master at the high school to edit
the _Vladimir Provincial News_—that was my only duty.
The work was familiar to me; I had in Vyatka successfully edited the
unofficial part of the _Provincial News_, and had published in it an
article which almost got my successor into trouble. Describing the
festival on the Great river, I said that the mutton sacrificed to St.
Nicholas at Hlynov used in old days to be distributed to the poor, but
now was sold. The bishop was incensed and the governor had difficulty in
persuading him to let the matter drop.
These provincial newspapers were introduced in 1837. The very original
idea of training the inhabitants of the land of silence and dumbness to
express themselves in print occurred to Bludov the Minister of Home
Affairs. The latter, famous for being chosen to continue Karamzin’s
_History_, though he never actually added a line to it, and for being
the author of the report of the committee of investigation into the
affair of the 14th of December, which it would have been better not to
write at all, belonged to the group of political doctrinaires who
appeared on the scene at the end of the reign of Alexander. They were
intelligent, cultured, old ‘Arzamass geese’[154] who had risen in the
service. They could write Russian, were patriots, and were so zealously
engaged in the history of their native land that they had no time to
give serious attention to its present condition. They all cherished the
never-to-be-forgotten memory of N. M. Karamzin, loved Zhukovsky, knew
Krylov by heart, and used to go to Moscow to converse with I. I.
Dmitriev in his house in Sadovy Street, where I too visited him as a
student, armed with romantic prejudices, a personal acquaintance with N.
Polevoy, and a concealed disapproval of the fact that Dmitriev, who was
a poet, should be Minister of Justice. Great things were hoped of them,
and like most doctrinaires of all countries they did nothing. Perhaps
they might have succeeded in leaving more permanent traces under
Alexander, but Alexander died and left them with nothing but their
desire to do something worth doing.
At Monaco there is an inscription on the tombstone of one of the
hereditary princes: ‘Here lies the body of Florestan So-and-so—he
desired to do good to his subjects.’[155] Our doctrinaires also desired
to do good, not to their own subjects but to the subjects of Nicholas,
but they reckoned without their host. I do not know who hindered
Florestan, but they were hindered by our Florestan. They were drawn into
taking part in all the measures detrimental to Russia and had to
restrict themselves to useless innovations, mere alterations of name and
form. Every head of a department among us thinks it his duty to produce
at intervals a project, an innovation, usually for the worse but
sometimes simply neutral. They thought it necessary for instance to call
the secretary in the governor’s office by a name of purely Russian
origin, while they left the secretary of the provincial office
untranslated into Russian. I remember that the Minister of Justice
brought forward a plan for necessary changes in the uniforms of civil
servants. This scheme opened in a majestic and solemn style: ‘taking
into special consideration the lack of unity, of standard, in the make
and pattern of certain uniforms in the civil department and adopting as
a fundamental principle,’ and so on.
Possessed by the same mania for reform the Minister of Home Affairs
replaced the rural assessors by police inspectors. The assessors lived
in the towns and used to visit the villages. The police inspectors
sometimes met together in the town but lived permanently in the country.
In this way all the peasants were put under the supervision of the
police and this was done with full knowledge of the predatory,
rapacious, corrupt character of our police officials. Bludov initiated
the policeman into the secrets of the peasants’ industry and wealth,
into their family life, into the affairs of the commune, and in this way
attacked the last stronghold of peasant life. Fortunately our villages
are very many and there are only two police inspectors in a district.
Almost at the same time the same Bludov had the notion of establishing
provincial newspapers. In Russia, although the government has no regard
for popular education, it has literary pretensions, and while in
England, for instance, there are no official organs, every one of our
departments has its own magazine, and so have the universities and the
academy. We have journals relating to mining, to dry-salting, to marine
affairs, and to means of communication, some in Russian, others in
French or German. All these are published at the government expense;
contracts for literary articles are made with the department exactly as
contracts for fuel and candles, but without competition; there are
plenty of statistics, invented figures and fantastic inferences from
them. After monopolising everything else, the government has now taken
the monopoly of talk and, imposing silence on every one else, has begun
chattering unceasingly. Continuing this system, Bludov commanded every
provincial government to publish its own newspaper, which was to have an
unofficial part for articles on historical, literary, and other
subjects.
No sooner said than done, and the officials in fifty provinces were
tearing their hair over this unofficial part. Priests of seminary
education, doctors of medicine, high-school teachers, all who could be
suspected of a tinge of culture and ability to spell correctly were
requisitioned. After much reflection and reading over of the _Library of
Good Reading_ and the _Notes of the Fatherland_, with inward tremors and
misgivings, they at last set to work to write articles.
The desire to see one’s name in print is one of the strongest artificial
passions of this bookish age. Nevertheless it needs favourable
circumstances to induce people to expose their efforts to public
criticism. People who would never have dared to dream of sending their
essays to the _Moscow News_ or to a Petersburg magazine, were ready to
publish them at home. And, meanwhile, the fatal habit of the newspaper
took root. And, indeed, it may not be amiss to have an instrument ready.
The printing press, too, is an unruly member.
My colleague in the editorship was also a Moscow graduate and of the
same faculty. I have not the heart to speak of him with a smile because
of his sad death, and yet he was an absurd figure up to the end. Though
far from being stupid, he was extraordinarily clumsy and awkward. It
would be hard to find an ugliness not merely so complete but so great,
that is, on so large a scale. His face was half as large again as
ordinary and somehow rugged-looking; a huge fish-like mouth reached to
his ears, white eyelashes did not shade but rather emphasised his pale
grey eyes, his skull was scantily covered with bristling hair, and at
the same time he was a head taller than I was, round-shouldered, and
very untidy in his appearance.
Even his name was such that a sentry at Vladimir locked him up on
account of it. Late one evening he was walking past the governor’s
house, wrapped up in his overcoat, carrying a pocket telescope; he stood
still and took aim with it at some planet. This perturbed the sentry who
probably regarded stars as public property. ‘Who goes there?’ he shouted
to the motionless stargazer. ‘Nebaba,’[156] answered my friend in a deep
voice, without budging.
‘Don’t play the fool,’ answered the sentry, offended, ‘I am on duty.’
‘But I tell you I am Nebaba.’
This was too much for the sentry and he rang his bell; a sergeant
appeared and the sentry handed over the astronomer to be taken to the
guardroom. ‘There they’ll find out whether you are a woman or not.’ He
would certainly have spent the night in custody had not the officer on
duty recognised him.
One morning Nebaba came to tell me that he was going to Moscow for a few
days; he gave a sly, rather appealing smile as he told me this. ‘I shall
not return alone,’ he said hesitatingly.
‘What, you mean...?’
‘Yes, I am actually getting married,’ he said shyly. I marvelled at the
heroic courage of the woman who could bring herself to marry this
good-hearted but monstrously ugly man. But when two or three weeks later
I saw in his house a girl of eighteen, who was not exactly good-looking
but rather prepossessing and with a lively expression in her eyes, I
began to look upon him as a hero.
Six weeks later I began to notice that things were not going well with
my Quasimodo. He was plunged in dejection, corrected his proofs badly,
did not finish his article on migratory birds, and was gloomily
preoccupied. It did not last long. One day as I was returning home
through the Golden Gate I saw shopmen and boys running to the
churchyard; policemen bustled about. I went with them.
Nebaba’s dead body was lying by the church wall and beside him a gun. He
had shot himself just opposite the window of his house; the string with
which he had pulled the trigger was still on his foot. The inspector of
the medical board, in well-rounded sentences, assured the bystanders
that the dead man had felt no pain; the police were preparing to take
the body to the police station.
How savage nature is to some people! What were the feelings in the heart
of the victim before he brought himself to stop with his bit of string
the pendulum that measured for him nothing but humiliations and
misfortunes? And why? Because his father was scrofulous and his mother
lymphatic? That may all be so. But what right have we to expect justice,
to call to account, to ask for reasons from—what? The whirling vortex of
life?...
At that very time a new chapter in my life was opening, a chapter full
of purity, serenity, youth, earnestness, secluded and bathed in love....
It belongs to another volume.
-----
Footnote 1:
Golohvastov, the husband of my father’s younger sister.
Footnote 2:
Governor of Moscow in 1812. Believed to have set fire to the city when
the French entered. See Tolstoy’s _War and Peace_.—(_Translator’s
Note._)
Footnote 3:
Mortier, duc de Trévise, general under the Revolution and Napoleon.
Killed, 1835, by the infernal machine of Fieschi.—(_Translator’s
Note._)
Footnote 4:
Fain, François, Baron (1778–1837), French historian and secretary of
Napoleon.
Footnote 5:
Commander-in-chief of the Russian army in 1812. See Tolstoy’s _War and
Peace_.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 6:
Minister of War and the most powerful and influential man of the reign
of Alexander I., whose intimate friend he was, hated and dreaded for
his cruelty.
Footnote 7:
Secretary of State under Alexander I.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 8:
One of the generals of the campaign of 1812. Military governor-general
of Petersburg at the accession of Nicholas in 1825, and killed in the
rising of December 14th. See Merezhkovsky’s novel, _December the
Fourteenth_.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 9:
Gmelin, Johann Georg (1709–1755), a learned German who travelled in
the East.
Footnote 10:
Pallas, Peter Simon (1741–1811), German traveller and naturalist who
explored the Urals, Kirghiz Steppes, Altai mountains, and parts of
Siberia.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 11:
My father had, besides me, another son ten years older. I was always
fond of him, but he could not be a companion to me. From his twelfth
to his thirtieth year he was always in the hands of the surgeons.
After a series of tortures, endured with extreme fortitude and
rendering his whole existence one intermittent operation, the doctors
declared his disease incurable. His health was shattered;
circumstances and character contributed to the complete ruin of his
life. The pages in which I speak of his lonely and melancholy
existence have been omitted. I do not care to print them without his
consent.
Footnote 12:
There were originally four brothers: Pyotr, the grandfather of ‘the
cousin from Kortcheva’ mentioned in Chapter 3; Alexander, the elder
brother here described, who is believed to have been the model from
whom Dostoevsky drew the character of Fyodor Pavlovitch in _The
Brothers Karamazov_; Lyov, always referred to as ‘the Senator,’ and
Ivan, Herzen’s father. Of the sisters one was Elizaveta Alexeyevna
Golohvastov and one was Marya Alexeyevna Hovansky. The family of the
Yakovlyevs was one of the oldest and most aristocratic in
Russia.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 13:
British Foreign Secretary in 1791, and Prime Minister, 1806 and 1807,
when the Act for the abolition of the slave trade was passed.
Footnote 14:
_I.e._, of Jerome Bonaparte, king of Westphalia from 1807 to 1813. ‘At
the court of King Jeremiah’ is a popular phrase equivalent to ‘in the
days of Methuselah.’—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 15:
Kleinmihel, Minister of Means of Communication under Nicholas I.
Footnote 16:
Benckendorf, Chief of Gendarmes, and favourite of Nicholas. See
Merezhkovsky’s _December the Fourteenth_ for character-study.
Footnote 17:
Perekusihin, Darya Savishna, favourite of Catherine II.—(_Translator’s
Notes._)
Footnote 18:
Father Matthew (1790–1856), Irish priest, who had remarkable success
in a great temperance campaign based on the religious
appeal.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 19:
Senkovsky, Joseph Ivanovitch (1800–1878), of Polish origin, was a
whimsical critic on the reactionary side who placed a miserable
poetaster, Timofeyev, above Pushkin and preferred Le Sage to Fielding.
Under the pseudonym Baron Brambàeus, he wrote sensational and
bombastic novels. He edited a serial publication the _Library of Good
Reading_, employing poor young men of talent to write for
it.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 20:
Payment in money or kind by a serf in lieu of labour for his
master.—(_Translater’s Note._)
Footnote 21:
_I.e._, clubs or guilds for messing or working
together.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 22:
_Le Mariage de Figaro_, a satirical comedy by Beaumarchais (_né_
Caron, 1732–1799), a watchmaker’s son, who rose to wealth and
influence, and by his writings helped to bring about the Revolution.
This play and an earlier one, _Le Barbier de Séville_, became popular
all over Europe, but are now chiefly remembered through their
adaptation to operas by Mozart and Rossini.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 23:
The famous passage in Racine’s _Phèdre_.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 24:
Mlle. George (1787–1867), French actress famous for her performances
in classical tragedy.
Footnote 25:
Mlle. Mars (1779–1847), French actress famous for her acting in
comedies of Molière.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 26:
The organist and music-teacher, I. I. Eck, spoken of in the _Memoirs
of a Young Man_, did nothing but give music-lessons and had no other
influence.
Footnote 27:
The English speak French worse than the Germans, but they only distort
the language, while the Germans degrade it.
Footnote 28:
The story is told that on one occasion in his own household, in the
presence, that is, of two or three heads of the secret police, two or
three maids of honour and generals in waiting, he tried his Medusa
glance on his daughter Marya Nikolayevna. She is like her father, and
her eyes really do recall the terrible look in his. The daughter
boldly confronted her father’s stare. The Tsar turned pale, his cheeks
twitched, and his eyes grew still more ferocious; his daughter met him
with the same look in hers. Every one turned pale and trembled; the
maids of honour and the generals in waiting dared not breathe, so
panic-stricken were they at this cannibalistic imperial duel with the
eyes, in the style of that described by Byron in ‘Don Juan.’ Nicholas
got up, he felt that he had met his match.
Footnote 29:
The President of the Academy proposed Araktcheyev as an honorary
member. Labzin asked in what the Count’s services to the arts
consisted. The President was at a loss and answered that Araktcheyev
was the man who stood nearest to the Tsar. ‘If that is a sufficient
reason, then I propose his coachman, Ilya Baykov,’ observed the
secretary, ‘he not only stands near the Tsar, but sits in front of
him.’ Labzin was a mystic and the editor of the _Messenger of Zion_;
Alexander himself was a mystic of the same sort, but with the fall of
Golitsyn’s ministry he handed over his former ‘brethren of Christ and
of the inner man’ to Araktcheyev to do with as he pleased. Labzin was
banished to Simbirsk.
Footnote 30:
Victor Joseph Étienne de Jouy, a popular French writer
(1764–1846).—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 31:
The officer, if I am not mistaken, Count Samoylov, had left the army
and was living quietly in Moscow. Nicholas recognised him at the
theatre; fancied that he was dressed with rather elaborate
originality, and expressed the royal desire that such costumes should
be ridiculed on the stage. The theatre director and patriot, Zagoskin,
commissioned one of his actors to represent Samoylov in some
vaudeville. The rumour of this was soon all over the town. When the
performance was over, the real Samoylov went into the director’s box
and asked permission to say a few words to his double. The director
was frightened, but, afraid of a scene, summoned the actor. ‘You have
acted me very well,’ the Count said to him, ‘and the only thing
wanting to complete the likeness is this diamond which I always wear;
allow me to hand it over to you; you will wear it next time you are
ordered to represent me.’ After this Samoylov calmly returned to his
seat. The stupid jest at his expense fell as flat as the proclamation
that Tchaadayev was mad and other august freaks.
Footnote 32:
Wife of Camille Desmoulins, who at his execution appealed to the
crowd, was arrested and also executed in 1794.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 33:
Alibaud attempted to assassinate Louis-Philippe in
1836.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 34:
Line from Pushkin’s poem, ‘The Tsar Nikita.’—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 35:
People, who knew the Ivashevs well, have since told me that they doubt
this story of the robber, and that, in speaking of the return of the
children and of the brother’s sympathy, I must not omit to mention the
noble conduct of Ivashev’s sisters. I heard the details from one of
them, Mme. Yazykov, who visited her brother in Siberia. But whether
she told me about the robber, I don’t remember. Has not Mme. Ivashev
been mixed up with Princess Trubetskoy, who sent letters and money to
Prince Obolensky through an unknown sectary? Have Ivashev’s letters
been preserved? It seems to us that we ought to have access to them.
Footnote 36:
_I.e._, the secret police.
Footnote 37:
‘Cantonists’ were soldiers’ sons educated at the government expense
and afterwards sent into the army.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 38:
Pestel, leader of the officers in the Southern Army who supported the
attempt to overthrow the autocracy and establish constitutional
government. The other four who were hanged were Ryleyev, Kahovsky,
Bestuzhev-Ryumin, and Muravyov-Apóstol. See Merezhkovsky’s novel,
_December the Fourteenth_, which adheres very closely to the
historical facts.
Footnote 39:
Mirovitch in 1762 tried to rescue from the Schlüsselburg the
legitimate heir to the Russian throne, known as Ivan VI., who perished
in the attempt. It is said that Catherine had given orders that he was
to be murdered if any attempt were made to release him. Mirovitch was
beheaded.
Footnote 40:
Pugatchov, the Cossack leader of the great rising of the serfs in
1775.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 41:
Nicholas’s victory over the Five was celebrated by a religious service
in Moscow. In the midst of the Kremlin the Metropolitan Filaret
thanked God for the murders. The whole of the Royal Family took part
in the service, near them the Senate and the ministers, and in the
immense space around packed masses of the Guards knelt bareheaded, and
also took part in the prayers; cannon thundered from the heights of
the Kremlin. Never have the gallows been celebrated with such pomp;
Nicholas knew the importance of the victory!
I was present at that service, a boy of fourteen lost in the crowd,
and on the spot, before that altar defiled by bloody rites. I swore to
avenge the murdered men, and dedicated myself to the struggle with
that throne, with that altar, with those cannons. I have not avenged
them, the Guards and the throne, the altar and the cannon all remain,
but for thirty years I have stood under that flag and have never once
deserted it.—(_Polar Star_, 1855.)
Footnote 42:
Paul’s mistress, the daughter of Lopuhin, the chief of the Moscow
Police, better known under her married name as Princess
Gagarin.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 43:
The date when the Polish rebellion broke out.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 44:
Tatyana Kutchin, known in Russian literature under her married name,
Passek. She wrote _Memoirs_, which throw interesting sidelights on
Herzen’s narrative.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 45:
Originally a convent, this was a famous girls’ school founded by
Catherine II.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 46:
Heinrich Zschokke (1771–1848), wrote in German _Tales of Swiss Life_,
in five vols., and also dramas—as well as a religious work _Stunden
der Andacht_, in eight vols., which was widely read up to the middle
of the nineteenth century and attacked for ascribing more importance
to religious feeling than to orthodox belief.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 47:
Translated by Juliet Soskice.
Footnote 48:
One of the leaders of the Decembrists.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 49:
Biron, favourite of the Empress Anna Ivanovna, was by her made
practically ruler of Russia during her reign and designated as
successor by her.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 50:
Joseph II. of Austria paid a famous visit to Catherine II. of Russia
in 1780.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 51:
Karamzin (1766–1826), author of a great _History of the Russian
State_, and also of novels in the sentimental romantic style of his
period.
Footnote 52:
In the _Philosophische Briefe_.
Footnote 53:
See the _Tagebuch_ of Bettina von Arnim for the account of her famous
first interview with Goethe.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 54:
Schiller’s poetry has not lost its influence on me. A few months ago I
read _Wallenstein_, that titanic work, aloud to my son. The man who
has lost his taste for Schiller has grown old or pedantic, has grown
hard or forgotten himself. What is one to say of these precocious
_altkluge Burschen_ who know his defects so well at seventeen?
Footnote 55:
Written in 1853.
Footnote 56:
Translated by Juliet Soskice.
Footnote 57:
The hero of _La Vie du Chevalier de Faublas_ (1787), by Louvet de
Couvray, is the type of the effeminate rake and fashionable exquisite
of the period.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 58:
Beaumarchais, author of _Le Barbier de Séville_ and _Le Mariage de
Figaro_.
Footnote 59:
Casti (1721–1803), an Italian poet, ‘attached by habit and taste to
the polished and frivolous society of the _ancien regime_, his
sympathies were nevertheless liberal,’ satirised Catherine II. and,
when exiled on that account from Vienna, had the spirit to resign his
Austrian pension. The _Talking Animals_, a satire on the predominance
of the foreigner in political life, is his best work. The influence of
his poems on Byron is apparent in ‘Don Juan.’—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 60:
Gonzaga was a Venetian painter who came to Petersburg in 1792 to paint
scenery for the Court Theatre. He planned the celebrated park at
Pavlovsk.
Footnote 61:
Derzhavin, Gavril Romanovitch (1743–1816), was poet-laureate to
Catherine II., and wrote numerous patriotic and a few other odes.
Footnote 62:
Krylov, Ivan Andreyevitch (1768–1844), was a very popular writer of
fables in verse.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 63:
Marmontel (1723–1799), author of the _Contes Moraux_ and other
stories.
Footnote 64:
Marivaux (1688–1763), author of numerous plays and a novel called
_Marianne_—all distinguished by an excessive refinement of sentiment
and language.
Footnote 65:
Shalikov and V. Panaev were insignificant writers of the early part of
the eighteenth century.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 66:
Arapov (1796–1861) wrote some twenty plays, but is chiefly remembered
for the _Chronicle of the Russian Theatre_ (published after his
death), a chronological record of everything performed on the Russian
stage up to 1825.
Footnote 67:
I. I. Dmitriev (1760–1837) wrote a number of fables and songs, of
which ‘The Little Dove’ is the best known. He was a great patron of
young literary men, and in 1810 was made Minister of Justice.
Footnote 68:
Vassily Lvovitch Pushkin, a minor poet, uncle of the famous
Pushkin.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 69:
The uniform of the secret police of which Benckendorf was head was
light blue with a white strap.
Footnote 70:
See later, Appendix to Chapter 7 for a full account of this.
Footnote 71:
The Kritsky brothers were said to have broken a bust of the Tsar at a
drinking party.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 72:
By the way, here is another of the fatherly measures of the ‘never to
be forgotten’ Nicholas. Foundling hospitals and the regulations for
their public inspection are among the best monuments of the reign of
Catherine. The very idea of maintaining hospitals, almshouses, and
orphan asylums on part of the percentage made by the loan banks from
the investment of their capital is remarkably intelligent.
These institutions were accepted, the banks and the regulations
enriched them, the foundling hospitals and almshouses flourished so
far as the universal thievishness of officials permitted them. Of the
children brought into the Foundling Hospital some remained in it,
while others were put out to be brought up by peasant-women in the
country; the latter remained peasants, while the former were brought
up in the institution itself. The more gifted among them were picked
out to continue the high-school course, while the less promising were
taught trades or sent to the Institute of Technology. It was the same
with the girls. Some were trained in handicrafts, others as children’s
nurses, while the cleverest became schoolmistresses and governesses.
But Nicholas dealt a terrible blow to this institution, too. It is
said that the Empress on one occasion, meeting in the house of one of
her friends the children’s governess, entered into conversation with
her and, being very much pleased with her, inquired where she had been
brought up, to which the young woman answered, the Foundling Hospital.
Any one would suppose that the Empress would be grateful to the
government for it. No—it gave her occasion to reflect on the
_impropriety_ of giving such an education to abandoned children.
A few months later Nicholas transferred the higher classes of the
Foundling Hospital to the Officers’ Institute, _i.e._ commanded that
the foundlings should no longer be put in these classes, but replaced
them with the children of officers. He even thought of a more radical
measure, he forbade the provincial institutions in their regulations
to accept new-born infants. The best commentary on this intelligent
measure is to be found in the records of the Minister of Justice under
the heading ‘Infanticide.’
Footnote 73:
Immense progress has been made in this respect. All that I have heard
of late of the theological Academies, and even of the Seminaries
confirms it. I need hardly say that it is not the ecclesiastical
authorities but the spirit of the pupils that is responsible for this
improvement.
Footnote 74:
Griboyedov’s famous comedy, which appeared and had a large circulation
in manuscript copies in 1824, its performance and publication being
prevented by the Censorship. When performed later it was in a very
mutilated form. It was a lively satire on Moscow society and full of
references to well-known persons, such as Izmailov and Tolstoy ‘the
American.’ Griboyedov was imprisoned in 1825 in connection with the
Fourteenth of December.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 75:
Stanislav Leszcynski, king of Poland from 1702 to 1709. His daughter
Maria was married to Louis XV. of France.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 76:
Lalande (1732–1807), a French astronomer connected with the theory of
the planets of Mercury.
Footnote 77:
Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire (1772–1844), French naturalist and author of
many books on zoology and biology—in which, in opposition to Cuvier,
he advanced the theory of the variation of species under the influence
of environment.
Footnote 78:
Oken, German naturalist, who aimed at deducing a system of natural
philosophy from _à priori_ propositions, and incidentally threw off
some valuable and suggestive ideas.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 79:
At that time there were none of the inspectors and subinspectors who
played the part of my Pyotr Fyodorovitch in the lecture-room.
Footnote 80:
A pun on the name—the phrase meaning also ‘Nine all but a
little.’—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 81:
Merzlyakov, a critic and translator of some merit.—(_Translator’s
Note._)
Footnote 82:
Abencerrages, a Moorish family, on the legend of whose tragic fate in
Granada, Chateaubriand founded his romance _Les Aventures du Dernier
des Abencérages_.
Footnote 83:
Tredyakovsky (1703–1769), son of a priest at Astrakhan, is said, like
Lomonossov, to have walked to Moscow in pursuit of learning. He was
the author of inferior poems, but did great service to Russian culture
by his numerous translations. He was the first to write in Russian as
spoken.
Footnote 84:
Kostrov (1750–1796), a peasant’s son and a seminarist, wrote in
imitation of Derzhavin, but is better known for his translations of
the Iliad, Apuleius and Ossian.
Footnote 85:
Heraskov (1733–1807), author of an immense number of poems in
pseudo-classic style. Wiener says ‘they now appal us with their inane
voluminousness.’ But readers of Turgenev will remember how greatly
they were admired by Punin. The best known of his epics is the
Rossiad, dealing with Ivan the Terrible.
Footnote 86:
Knyazhnin (1742–1791) wrote numerous tragedies and comedies, chiefly
adaptations from the French or Italian, and of no literary
merit.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 87:
Byelinsky, Vissarion Grigoryevitch (1810–1848), was the greatest of
Russian critics. See later, Chapter 25, Vol. II., for an account of
him.
Footnote 88:
Kavelin (1818–1855), a writer of brilliant articles on political and
economical questions. Friend of Turgenev.
Footnote 89:
Pirogov (1810–1881), the great surgeon and medical authority, was
the first in Russia to investigate disease by experiments on
animals, and to use anæsthetics for operations. He took an active
part in education and the reforms of the early years of Alexander
II.’s reign, and published many treatises on medical subjects. To
his genius and influence as Professor of Medicine in Petersburg
University is largely due the very high standard of medical training
in Russia.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 90:
Glinka, author of patriotic verses of no merit. Referred to as ‘the
officer’ by Pushkin in a poem.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 91:
How diversely Humboldt’s travels were understood in Russia may be
gathered from the account of an Ural Cossack who served in the office
of the Governor of Perm; he liked to describe how he had escorted the
mad Prussian Prince, Gumplot. What did he do? ‘Just the same silly
things, collecting grasses, looking at the sand; at Solontchaki he
said to me, through the interpreter, ‘Go into the water and get what’s
at the bottom’; well, I got just what is usually at the bottom, and he
asks, ‘Is the water very cold at the bottom?’ ‘No, my lad,’ I thought,
‘you won’t catch me.’ So I drew myself up at attention, and answered,
‘When it’s our duty, your Highness, it’s of no consequence, we are
glad to do our best.’
Footnote 92:
Homyakov. See later, Chapter 30, for Herzen’s account of this leader
of the Slavophil movement.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 93:
Pic-de-la-Mirandole (1463–1494), a learned Italian who was the most
famous of all infant prodigies, a mediæval ‘Admirable
Crichton.’—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 94:
Ledru-Rollin (1808–1874), member of the French Provisional Government
of 1848, and one of the earliest advocates of universal adult
suffrage.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 95:
Catherine II., born a German princess, rose to be Empress of Russia
through the murder—by her orders or with her connivance—of her
husband, Peter III., to the great advantage of the country.
Footnote 96:
Mrs. Radcliffe (1764–1823) wrote many stories, _The Mysteries of
Udolpho_ and _The Italians_ being the best known. All largely turn on
mysterious haunted castles, and had great vogue in their
day.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 97:
Manuel (J. A.), a man of great independence and honesty, was expelled
from the Chambre des Députés for his opposition to the war with Spain
in 1823.
Footnote 98:
Dupont de l’Eure (J. C.), a leader in the revolution of 1830, was
afterwards president of the Provisional Government in 1848.
Footnote 99:
Armand Carrel (1800–1836), as editor of _Le National_, offered
spirited opposition to Charles X., as well as to aggressive acts of
the government of Louis-Philippe.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 100:
Here is what Denis Davydov[101] tells in his Memoirs:
‘The Tsar said one day to A. P. Yermolov: “I was once in a very
terrible position during the Polish War. My wife was expecting her
confinement, the mutiny had broken out in Novgorod, I had only two
squadrons of Horse Guards left me; the news from the army only reached
me through Königsberg. I was forced to surround myself with soldiers
discharged from hospital.”’
The Memoirs of this general of partisans leave no room for doubt that
Nicholas, like Araktcheyev, like all cold-hearted, cruel and
revengeful people, was a coward. Here is what General Tchetchensky
told Davydov: ‘You know that I can appreciate manliness and so you
will believe my words. I was near the Tsar on the 14th December, and I
watched him all the time. I can assure you on my honour that the Tsar,
who was very pale all the time, had his heart in his boots.’
And again Davydov himself tells us: ‘During the riot in the Haymarket,
the Tsar only visited the capital on the second day when order was
restored. The Tsar was at Peterhof, and himself observed casually, “I
was standing all day with Volkonsky on a mound in the garden,
listening for the sound of cannon-shot from the direction of
Petersburg.” Instead of anxiously listening in the garden, and
continually sending couriers to Petersburg,’ added Davydov, ‘he ought
to have hastened there himself; any one of the least manliness would
have done so. On the following day (when everything was quiet) the
Tsar rode in his carriage into the crowd, which filled the square, and
shouted to it, “On your knees!” and the crowd hurriedly obeyed the
order. The Tsar, seeing several people dressed in parti-coloured
clothes (among those following the carriage), imagined that they were
suspicious characters, and ordered the poor wretches to be taken to
the lock-up and, turning to the people, began shouting: “They are all
wretched Poles, they have egged you on.” Such an ill-timed sally
completely ruined the effect in my opinion.’
A strange sort of bird was this Nicholas!
Footnote 101:
Davydov (see Tolstoy’s _War and Peace_) and Yermolov were both leaders
of the partisan or guerilla warfare against the French in
1812.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 102:
And where are the Kritskys? What had they done? Who tried them? For
what were they condemned?
Footnote 103:
_I.e._, Tatyana Kutchin, the ‘cousin from Kortcheva,’ mentioned in
Chapter 3.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 104:
Venevitinov, a young poet whose few poems showed the greatest promise.
He died at the age of seventeen.
Footnote 105:
The members of the Petrashevsky group, of whom Dostoevsky was one,
were condemned to death, and led out to the scaffold. At the last
moment their sentence was transmuted to penal servitude in
Siberia.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 106:
_I.e._, of supervision by the secret police, whose light-blue uniform
was worn with a white strap.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 107:
The dynasty of kings of Poland from 1386 to 1572.
Footnote 108:
Karl Sand, a student of Jena University, who in 1819 assassinated the
German dramatist Kotzebue, because he threw ridicule on the
Burschenschaft movement.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 109:
In 1844, I met Perevoshtchikov at Shtchepkin’s and sat beside him at
dinner. Towards the end he could not resist saying: ‘It is a pity, a
very great pity, that circumstances prevented you from taking up work,
you had excellent abilities.’
‘But you know it’s not for every one to follow you up to heaven. We
are busy here on earth at work of some sort.’
‘Upon my word, to be sure that may be work of a sort. Hegelian
philosophy perhaps. I have read your articles, there is no
understanding them; bird’s language, that’s queer sort of work. No,
indeed!’
For a long while I was amused at this verdict, that is, for a long
while I could not understand that our language really was poor; if it
were a bird’s, it must have been the bird that was Minerva’s
favourite.
Footnote 110:
Among the papers sent me from Moscow, I found a note in which I
informed my cousin who was in the country that I had taken my degree.
‘The examination is over, and I am a graduate! You cannot imagine the
sweet feeling of freedom after four years of work. Did you think of me
on Thursday? It was a stifling day, and the torture lasted from nine
in the morning till nine in the evening.’ (26th June 1833.) I fancy I
added two hours for effect or to round off the sentence. But for all
my pleasure, my vanity was stung by another student’s winning the gold
medal. In a second letter of the 6th July, I find: ‘To-day was the
prizegiving, but I was not there. I did not care to be second at the
giving of the medals.’
Footnote 111:
St. Just was a member of the Convention and the Committee of Public
Safety, a follower of Robespierre and beheaded with him at the age of
twenty-seven.
Footnote 112:
Hoche and Marceau were generals of the French Revolutionary Army. Both
were engaged in the pacification of La Vendée. Both perished before
reaching the age of thirty.
Footnote 113:
Desmoulins was one of the early leaders of the French Revolution, and
headed the attack on the Bastille; afterwards accused of being a
Moderate and beheaded together with Danton at the age of thirty-four.
Footnote 114:
Escousse (b. 1813) and Lebras (b. 1816) were poets who wrote in
collaboration a successful play, _Farruck le Maure_, followed by
an unsuccessful one called _Raymond_. On the failure of the latter
they committed suicide in 1832. Béranger wrote a poem on
them.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 115:
_I.e._, Nikolay Pavlovitch Golohvastov, the younger of the two sons of
a sister of Herzen’s father. These two sons are fully described in
Vol. II. Chapter 31.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 116:
This is the earliest record of Russian history. It begins with the
Deluge and continues in leisurely fashion up to the year 1110. Nestor,
of whom nothing is really known, is assumed to have been a monk of the
twelfth century.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 117:
Enfantin, a French engineer, was one of the founders of
Saint-Simonism.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 118:
Familiar to all English school-girls of the last generation in the
French as _La Jeune Sibérienne_ by Xavier de Maistre. I cannot
discover whether the Russian version is the original and the French
the translation or vice versa.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 119:
Translated by Juliet Soskice.
Footnote 120:
J. S. Bailly (1736–1793), one of the early leaders of the French
revolution, and an astronomer and literary man of some distinction,
was Mayor of Paris after the taking of the Bastille, and executed in
1793.
Footnote 121:
Fieschi, the celebrated conspirator, executed in 1836 for
the attempt with an ‘infernal machine’ on the life of
Louis-Philippe.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 122:
The League of Public Welfare was formed in the reign of Alexander I.
to support philanthropic undertakings and education, to improve the
administration of justice, and to promote the economical welfare of
the country. The best men in Russia belonged to it. At first approved
by Alexander, it was afterwards repressed, and it split into the
‘Union of the North,’ which aimed at establishing constitutional
government, and the ‘Union of the South’ led by Pestel, which aimed at
republicanism. The two Unions combined in the attempt of December the
Fourteenth.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 123:
See Gogol’s _Dead Souls_.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 124:
A character in Gogol’s _Dead Souls_.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 125:
Philip Wouverman (1619–1668), a Dutch master who excelled in drinking
and hunting scenes.
Footnote 126:
Jacques Callot (1592–1635), a French painter and
engraver.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 127:
The epithet in the last line is left to the imagination in Russian
also.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 128:
Among those who have distinguished themselves in this line of late
years is the notorious Liprandi, who drew up a scheme for founding an
Academy of Espionage (1858).
Footnote 129:
I need not say that this was a barefaced lie, a shameful police trap.
Footnote 130:
Marlinsky (pseudonym for Bestuzhev) (1795–1837), author of numerous
tales, extremely romantic in style and subject. Readers of Turgenev
will remember that he was the favourite author of the hero of _Knock,
Knock, Knock_.
Footnote 131:
Zagoskin (1789–1852), author of popular historical novels, sentimental
and patriotic.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 132:
The _Prisoner of the Caucasus_, _Voynarovsky_, and the _Fountain of
Bahtchisaray_ are poems of Pushkin’s. The line quoted is from the last
of the three.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 133:
The Votyaks are a Mongolian tribe, found in Siberia and Eastern
Russia.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 134:
Jean-Baptiste Carrier (1756–1794) was responsible for the _noyades_
and massacre of 1600 people at Nantes, while suppressing the
counter-revolutionary rising of La Vendée.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 135:
Pun on the Russian word for ‘translate,’ which also means ‘transfer
from place to place.’—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 136:
In 1802, Alexander I. ordered a report to be sent him concerning the
management by Major-General Izmailov of the latter’s estates in Tula,
where serfs were tortured and imprisoned by their owner on the
slightest provocation. By the connivance of the local authorities,
Izmailov was able to retain control and persist in his brutal
practices till 1830. Even then he was only punished by being deprived
of the management of his estates and interned in a small town. Both
Izmailov and Tolstoy ‘the American’ are referred to in Griboyedov’s
famous play, _Woe from Wit_.
Footnote 137:
Mamonov was one of the lovers of Catherine II., declared insane for
having married against her wishes.—(_Translator’s Notes._)
Footnote 138:
Minih was a minister and general prominent under Peter the Great and
Anna. On the latter’s death he brought about the downfall of Biron,
was exiled by Elizabeth, and finally brought back from Siberia by
Catherine.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 139:
Simon Konarski, a Polish revolutionary, also active in the ‘Young
Europe’ (afterwards ‘Young Italy’) movement, lived in disguise and
with a false passport in Poland, founding a printing press and
carrying on active propaganda till he was caught and shot at Vilna in
1839. His admirers cut the post to which he was tied into bits which
they preserved as relics of a saint.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 140:
Speransky, a leading statesman of the early period of the reign of
Alexander I., banished in 1812 on a trumped-up charge of treason,
recalled by Nicholas. He was responsible for the codification of
Russian laws. See Tolstoy’s _War and Peace_ for sketch of
him.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 141:
This gave Count Rastoptchin occasion for a biting jest at Pestel’s
expense. They were both dining with the Tsar. The Tsar, who was
standing at the window, asked: ‘What’s that on the church, the black
thing on the cross?’ ‘I can’t distinguish,’ observed Count
Rastoptchin. ‘You must ask Boris Ivanovitch, he has wonderful eyes, he
sees from here what is being done in Siberia.’
Footnote 142:
I see with great pleasure that the New York papers have several times
repeated this.
Footnote 143:
Seslavin was a famous leader of the guerilla warfare against Napoleon
in 1812.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 144:
An epigram of Pushkin’s contains the two lines:—
‘“I’ll buy all,” said Gold.
“I’ll take all,” said Steel.’—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 145:
All their prayers may be reduced to a petition for the continuance of
their race, for their crops, and the preservation of their herds.
‘May Yumala grant that from one sheep may be born two, from one grain
may come five, that my children may have children.’
There is something miserable and gloomy, the survival from ancient
times of oppression, in this lack of confidence in life on earth, and
daily bread. The devil (Shaitan) is regarded as equal to God. I saw a
terrible fire in a village, in which the inhabitants were mixed
Russian and Votyak. The Russians were hard at work shouting and
dragging out their things, the tavern-keeper was particularly
conspicuous among them. It was impossible to check the fire, but it
was easy at first to save things. The Votyaks were huddled together on
a little hill, weeping copiously and doing nothing.
Footnote 146:
A similar reply (if Kurbanovsky did not invent this one) was made by
peasants in Germany when refusing to be converted to Catholicism.
Footnote 147:
Cyril and Methodius were brothers who in the ninth century evangelised
in Thrace, Moesia and Moravia, invented the Slav alphabet, and made a
Slav translation of the Bible. They are saints of both the Greek and
the Catholic Churches.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 148:
In the Province of Vyatka the peasants are particularly fond of
forming new settlements. Very often three or four clearings are
suddenly discovered in the forest. The immense waste lands and forests
(now half cut down) tempt the peasants to take this _res nullius_
which is left unused. The Minister of Finance has several times been
obliged to confirm these squatters in possession of the land.
Footnote 149:
Zhukovsky (1786–1852), the well-known poet, was tutor to the
Tsarevitch, afterwards Alexander II. He was a man of fine and
generous character. His original work is not of the first order,
but as a translator from the European and classical languages he
was of invaluable service in the development of Russian
culture.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 150:
Leroux, a follower of Saint Simon, of the first half of the nineteenth
century.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 151:
Gebel, a well-known musical composer of the period.
Footnote 152:
I thought fit, I don’t understand why, to write these scenes in verse.
Probably I thought that anybody could write unrhymed five-foot
iambics, since even Pogodin[153] wrote them. In 1839 or 1840, I gave
both the manuscripts to Byelinsky to read and calmly awaited his
eulogies. But next day Byelinsky sent them back to me with a note in
which he said: ‘Do please have them copied to run on without being
divided into lines, then I will read them with pleasure, as it is I am
bothered all the time by the idea of their being in verse.’
Byelinsky killed both my dramatic efforts. It is always pleasant to
pay one’s debts. In 1841, Byelinsky published a long dialogue upon
literature in the _Notes of the Fatherland_. ‘How do you like my last
article?’ he asked me, as we were dining together _en petit comité_ at
Dusseau’s. ‘Very much,’ I answered, ‘all that you say is excellent,
but tell me, please, how could you go on struggling for two hours to
talk to that man without seeing at the first word that he was a fool?’
‘That’s perfectly true,’ said Byelinsky, bursting into laughter.
‘Well, my boy, that is crushing! Why, he is a perfect fool!’
Footnote 153:
Pogodin, chiefly known as an historian of a peculiar Slavophil tinge,
was co-editor with Shevyryov of the _Moskvityanin_, a reactionary
journal, and wrote historical novels of little merit.—(_Translator’s
Note._)
Footnote 154:
The reference is to the ‘Arzamass,’ a literary club of which Karamzin,
Batyushkov, Uvarov, this Bludov and some others were members. The town
Arzamass is noted for its geese.—(_Translator’s Note._)
Footnote 155:
_Il a voulu le bien de ses sujets._
Footnote 156:
The name means ‘not a woman.’—(_Translator’s Note._)
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● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.