Up to the time of Ivan Petrovitch's return from abroad, Fedya had
been, as we have already said, in the hands of Glafira Petrovna. He was
less than eight years of age when his mother died, he had not seen her
every day, and he had loved her passionately: the memory of her, of her
pale and gentle face, her melancholy glances and timid caresses, had
forever imprinted itself upon his heart; but he dimly comprehended her
position in the house; he was conscious that between him and her there
existed a barrier which she dared not and could not overthrow. He shunned
his father, and Ivan Petrovitch never petted him; his grandfather
occasionally stroked his head, and permitted him to kiss his hand, but he
called him and considered him a little fool. After the death of Malanya
Sergyeevna, his aunt took him in hand definitively. Fedya feared
her,--feared her bright, keen eyes, her sharp voice; he dared not utter a
sound in her presence; it sometimes happened that when he had merely
fidgeted on his chair, she would scream out: "Where art thou going? sit
still!" On Sundays, after the Liturgy, he was permitted to play,--that is
to say, he was given a thick book, a mysterious book, the work of a
certain Maximovitch-Ambodik, entitled: "Symbols and Emblems." This book
contained about a thousand in part very puzzling pictures, with equally
puzzling explanations in five languages. Cupid, with a plump, naked body,
played a great part in these pictures. To one of them, labelled "Saffron
and Rainbow," was appended the explanation: "The action of this is great
..."; opposite another, which represented "A Heron flying with a violet
blossom in his mouth," stood the inscription: "All of them are known unto
thee." Cupid and a bear licking its cub was designated as: "Little by
little." Fedya contemplated these pictures; he was familiar with the
most minute details of them all; some of them--always the same ones--set
him to thinking and excited his imagination; he knew no other diversions.
When the time came to teach him languages and music, Glafira Petrovna
hired, for a paltry sum, an elderly spinster, a Swede, with frightened,
hare-like eyes, who spoke French and German indifferently, played the
piano after a fashion, and, in addition, knew how to salt cucumbers in
first-class style. In the society of this instructress, of his aunt, and
of an old chambermaid, Vasilievna, Fedya passed four whole years. He
used to sit in the corner with his "Emblems"--and sit ... and sit ...
while the low-ceiled room smelled of geraniums, a solitary tallow candle
burned dimly, a cricket chirped monotonously, as though it were bored,
the little clock ticked hastily on the wall, a mouse stealthily scratched
and gnawed behind the wall-hangings, and the three old maids, like the
Parcae, moved their knitting-needles silently and swiftly to and fro, the
shadows cast by their hands now flitted, again quivered strangely in the
semi-darkness, and strange thoughts, also half-dark, swarmed in the
child's head. No one would have called Fedya an interesting child: he
was quite pallid, but fat, awkwardly built, and clumsy,--"a regular
peasant," according to Glafira Petrovna's expression; the pallor would
speedily have disappeared from his face if he had been permitted to go
out of doors more frequently. He studied tolerably well, although he
frequently idled; he never wept; on the other hand, at times a fierce
obstinacy came over him; then no one could do anything with him. Fedya
loved none of the persons around him.... Woe to the heart which loves not
in its youth!
Thus did Ivan Petrovitch find him, and without loss of time he set to
work to apply his system to him.--"I want to make a man of him first of
all, _un homme_,"--he said to Glafira Petrovna:--"and not only a man,
but a Spartan." Ivan Petrovitch began the execution of his intention by
dressing his son in Highland garb: the lad of twelve began to go about
with bare knees, and with a cock's feather in his crush-cap; the Swede
was superseded by a young Swiss man, who had learned gymnastics to
perfection; music, as an occupation unworthy of a man, was banished
forever; the natural sciences, international law, mathematics, the
carpenter's trade after the advice of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and
heraldry, for the maintenance of knightly sentiments--these were the
things wherewith the future "man" was to occupy himself; he was waked at
four o'clock in the morning, was immediately drenched with cold water,
and made to run around a tall pillar, at the end of a rope; he ate once a
day, one dish, rode on horseback, practised firing a cross-bow; on every
convenient opportunity he exercised his strength of will, after the model
of his parent, and every evening he noted down in a special book an
account of the past day and his impressions; and Ivan Petrovitch, on
his side, wrote him precepts in French, in which he called him _mon
fils_, and addressed him as _vous_. In Russian Fedya called his father
"thou," but he dared not sit down in his presence. The "system"
bewildered the boy, introduced confusion into his head, squeezed it; but,
on the other hand, the new mode of life acted beneficially on his health:
at first he caught a fever, but soon recovered, and became a fine,
dashing fellow. His father was proud of him, and called him, in his
strange jargon: "A son of nature, my product." When Fedya reached the
age of sixteen, Ivan Petrovitch regarded it as his duty to instil into
him betimes scorn for the fair sex,--and the youthful Spartan, with
timidity in his soul, with the first down upon his lips, full of vigour,
strength, and blood, attempted to appear indifferent, cold, and harsh.
Meanwhile, time passed and passed. Ivan Petrovitch spent the greater
part of the year at Lavriki (that was the name of his paternal estate),
and in the winters he went alone to Moscow, stopped at an inn, diligently
frequented the club, orated and set forth his plans in drawing-rooms, and
conducted himself more like an Anglomaniac, a grumbler, and a statesman
than ever. But the year 1825 arrived, and brought with it much woe.[5]
Ivan Petrovitch's intimate friends and acquaintances were subjected to
severe trials. Ivan Petrovitch made haste to retreat to his country
estate, and locked himself up in his house. Another year elapsed, and
Ivan Petrovitch suddenly grew feeble, weakened, declined, his health
deserted him. A free-thinker--he took to going to church, and to ordering
services of prayer; a European--he began to steam himself at the bath, to
dine at two o'clock, to go to bed at nine, to fall asleep to the chatter
of the aged butler; a statesman--he burned all his plans, all his
correspondence, trembled before the governor, and fidgeted in the
presence of the rural chief of police; a man with a will of iron--he
whimpered and complained when an abscess broke out on him, when he was
served with a plate of cold soup. Glafira Petrovna again reigned over
everything in the house; again clerks, village bailiffs, common peasants,
began to creep through the back entrance to the "ill-tempered old
hag,"--that was what the house-servants called her. The change in Ivan
Petrovitch gave his son a great shock; he was already in his nineteenth
year, and had begun to reason and to free himself from the weight of the
hand which oppressed him. He had noticed, even before this, a discrepancy
between his father's words and deeds, between his broad and liberal
theories and his harsh, petty despotism; but he had not anticipated such
a sudden break. The inveterate egoist suddenly revealed himself at full
length. Young Lavretzky was getting ready to go to Moscow, to prepare
himself for the university,--when an unforeseen, fresh calamity descended
upon the head of Ivan Petrovitch: he became blind, and that hopelessly,
in one day.
Not trusting in the skill of Russian physicians, he began to take
measures to obtain permission to go abroad. It was refused. Then he took
his son with him, and for three whole years he roamed over Russia, from
one doctor to another, incessantly journeying from town to town and
driving the physicians, his son, his servants, to despair by his
pusillanimity and impatience. He returned to Lavriki a perfect rag, a
tearful and capricious child. Bitter days ensued, every one endured much
at his hands. Ivan Petrovitch calmed down only while he was eating his
dinner; he had never eaten so greedily, nor so much; all the rest of the
time he never gave himself or others any peace. He prayed, grumbled at
fate, railed at himself, reviled politics, his system,--reviled
everything which he had made his boast and upon which he had prided
himself, everything which he had held up as an example for his son; he
insisted that he believed in nothing, and then prayed again; he could not
bear to be left alone for a single moment, and demanded from the members
of his household, that they should sit uninterruptedly, day and night,
beside his arm-chair, and amuse him with stories, which he incessantly
interrupted with the exclamation: "You are inventing the whole of
it--what trash!"
Glafira Petrovna had a particularly hard time; he positively could not
get along without her--and to the end she complied with all the invalid's
whims, although sometimes she could not make up her mind on the instant
to answer him, lest the sound of her voice should betray her inward
wrath. In this manner he lingered on two years, and died in the beginning
of May, when he had been carried out upon the balcony, in the sunshine.
"Glashka, Glashka! the bouillon, the bouillon, you old foo ..." lisped
his stiffening tongue, and without finishing the last word, it became
silent forever. Glafira Petrovna, who had just snatched the cup of
bouillon from the hands of the butler, stopped short, stared her brother
in the face, crossed herself slowly and broadly, and withdrew in silence;
and his son, who was present, said nothing, either, but leaned against
the railing of the balcony, and gazed for a long time into the garden,
all fragrant and verdant, all glittering in the rays of the golden sun of
spring. He was twenty-three years old; how terribly, how imperceptibly
fast those three and twenty years had sped past!... Life was opening
before him.
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[5] At the accession to the throne of Nicholas I.--Translator.