_IRKUTSK._
Province of Irkutsk.--The capital.--Its markets.--Telegraph
officers.--Visit to the Governor.--Ruins of the city.--Attempt
to establish a Bible depôt.--Supposed incendiarism.--Benevolent
arrangements of authorities.--Wife-beating.--Servility of
Russian peasants.--Visit to a rich merchant.--Ecclesiastical
affairs.--Visit to the acting Governor-General.--The prisons.--A
prisoner’s view of them.--Prison committee.--Distribution of
books.--Visit to inspector of schools.--Change of route.
The city of Irkutsk is the capital of a government of the same name,[1]
and was founded in 1680. Its population in 1879 was 33,000. About
4,000 gold-miners spend their winter and their money in the city,
often mentioned as a cheerful place of rest for travellers coming from
China, or proceeding eastward. It is 1,360 feet above the sea, and has
a climate which even in winter is well spoken of, though, in the late
autumn, and previous to the freezing of the Angara, the fogs from the
river bring rheumatism and diseases of the throat and lungs. Little
wind blows, storms are less frequent than at Petersburg or Moscow, and
the snows are not superabundant. Whether in winter or summer, the
panorama of Irkutsk and its surroundings is one of beauty. Of its 20
churches, several were planned and constructed by two Swedish engineer
officers captured at Pultava, and sent into exile by the great Peter.
The markets of Irkutsk are well supplied. Fish and game are plentiful.
Beef is abundant and good, and costs about 2_d._ a pound. Pork, veal,
and mutton are also cheap, especially in winter, when everything that
can be frozen succumbs to the frost. Frozen chickens, partridges, and
other game are often thrown together in heaps like bricks or fire-wood.
Butchers’ meat defies the knife, and some of the salesmen place their
animals in fantastic positions before freezing them. Frozen fish are
piled in stacks, and milk is offered for sale in cakes or bricks. A
stick or string is generally congealed into a corner of the mass to
facilitate carrying, so that a wayfarer can swing a quart of milk at
his side, or wrap it in his handkerchief at discretion. Whilst the
products of the country are thus cheap, it should be observed that
everything brought from beyond the Urals is expensive on account of the
long land carriage. Champagne, for example, costs 12_s._ or 14_s._ a
bottle, and porter and ale 7_s._ 6_d._; the lowest price of sugar is
8_d._ a pound, while sometimes it costs 1_s._; and as much as 2_s._
6_d._ may occasionally be given for a lemon.
Much of this, however, I had to learn by report or reading; for, at
the time of our visit, the Sunday’s fire had upset everything, and it
became a serious question on Monday morning as to what we should do.
Many of the telegraph clerks in Siberia are Danes, and speak several
languages. We found that we had one of them, Mr. Larsen, for a near
neighbour; for the telegraph office had been burnt, and he had come
to our side of the river to take shelter in the next house, where,
having no electric battery, he had tapped the Verchne Udinsk wire,
and was trying in this way, though without success, to communicate
intelligence. He had had nothing to eat for 24 hours, and possessed
only the clothes in which he stood; so it was quite a charity to take
him a glass of tea to his temporary office in the open air, after
which he dined with us. Mr. Larsen, to whom we had an introduction,
had been a telegraphist in London, and spoke English fluently, so that
we were able to discuss our prospects to advantage. It was of prime
importance for us that we should see the Governor of the province and
the Governor-General of Eastern Siberia as quickly as possible, for
it was not hard to perceive that what provisions had escaped the fire
would be sold at famine prices; lawlessness, it was rumoured, might get
the upper hand; and it seemed better that we should leave the place
without much delay. Our adviser feared, however, and reasonably so,
that we should be able to get no attention from the higher officials
in the present state of excitement, seeing the embers of the city were
still smoking, and the authorities would naturally have more important
business than ours to attend to. Mr. Larsen, however, kindly offered
to accompany me over the river to see if anything could be done.
Accordingly we crossed, and, walking along the broad road by the side
of the Angara, the ashes of the fire scorched our faces.
We now saw something of the condition of the people who had fled
to the bank of the river on the previous day, with such effects as
they could save. Here were gentlefolks “camped out” under chests of
drawers, tables, and boxes, arranged in the best manner possible in
the open air--sheets being used for walls, and curtains for coverings.
Ikons from churches were lying about; likewise tables, heaped with
philosophical instruments from the high school; and carts filled with
movables. The instruments from the telegraph station were standing by a
post, to which paper streamers were fastened to intimate that this was
the temporary telegraph office. The people’s demeanour, however, was in
strange contrast with their pitiable condition; for many, having saved
their samovars, were drinking afternoon tea, and on all sides were
joking and laughing at their comical situation.
We found many of his friends among those beside the river, and each
began good-humouredly to ask what the other lost in the fire, and
what had been saved. Nobody seemed inclined to be at all dull over
the matter, and the same thing was apparent with the Deputy-Governor
Ismailoff, upon whom we called. “What have you lost?” said the General
to my companion. He lightly threw open his coat, and intimated that
_that_ was all he had saved. At this the General laughed heartily, and
said that he was not so well off, for that the very shirt on his back
was a borrowed one! Yet the Governor had lost in the fire a brand-new
house, upon which he had spent many thousands of roubles.
Contrary to our expectation, it was arranged for us to see the acting
Governor-General next morning, and meanwhile we had time to look at
the ruins of the city. People had taken refuge with their effects in
the large squares, as well as on the banks and islands of the river.
Many had fled into the neighbouring villages. The suburbs had escaped
the fire, as well as many of the houses standing in spacious grounds.
A few of the churches also were untouched. The large hospital was
safe, likewise the usine for smelting gold, and the Governor-General’s
house, but many of the public buildings had perished; amongst these the
museum, in which I expected to find a good ethnographical collection.
I should judge about three-fourths of the city were destroyed, and
that the best part of the town; and so complete was the wreck that the
_isvostchiks_ with their droshkies hardly knew their way about the
blackened streets.
We met a few of the higher class of exiles living free in Irkutsk,
and, on asking them what they would do, received for reply, “We do not
know. We have been earning something by teaching, but now our patrons
will leave us. All sorts of provisions will be frightfully dear, and
yet we dare not leave. So what is to be done?” The same doubts as to
the future pressed heavily upon those tradesmen whose shops were not
burnt.[2]
Of course there were various rumours afloat during the excitement of
the previous day--one, that the devastation was caused by a wilful act.
Similar rumours were afloat at Perm and Tagil, and at Irkutsk more than
twenty arrests were reported. But, upon asking the Governor, it proved
to be nonsense; for only two men had been arrested, and it was very
doubtful whether even they were guilty. The only origin I heard given
was that a hay-loft ignited, from which the flames spread.[3]
In Siberian towns the police are represented by the _gendarmerie_; and
in other places are police-masters with their employés. There are,
strictly speaking, no policemen, but Cossacks are usually employed in
their stead; and at the end of their short service are allowed to go
home. They are, however, anything but efficient constables, and I was
told that at Irkutsk the authorities do not employ them. To protect
whatever might be of value among the ruins, and to keep order after the
fire, troops were marched into the city by day, and patrolled the place
at night.
Great credit was due to the officials for the prompt manner in
which they attempted the relief of distress. The fire was scarcely
extinguished before a committee was formed, and some of the merchants
laid down handsome sums. Proclamations were posted about the place,
saying that officers could be furnished with dinners at the rate of
30 kopecks a plate, that bread might be bought for 2 kopecks--that
is, a halfpenny--a pound; and that for the first week the poor might
have bread for nothing; further, that all persons burnt out might, on
application, receive the sum of 30 kopecks. No serious outbreak of
disorder occurred during our stay, though a good deal of drunkenness
was visible. With two inebriates we were brought palpably into contact.
In the yard we occupied was a small kitchen-house, where lived a woman
cook, her husband, and some children. The husband had been to the fire,
had been drinking, and came home accompanied by a drunken associate.
The companion, referring to the cook, said, “As for that woman, she
ought to be hanged”; whereupon her husband fell to beating mercilessly
both her and her boy of about ten years old; and the child came to us
crying, as if he were half killed. Whereupon we rushed to the rescue,
and one of the party, seizing the drunken man, took him from his wife,
and gave him a thrashing.[4]
When I got further east, I heard of a third and similar instance of
wife-beating, related to me by a merchant in whose house I stayed. His
servants were convicts, simply because he could get no others; but he
said he was not usually curious to ask for what crimes they had been
sent to Siberia. It happened, however, that he had a woman-cook who
was particularly well-behaved, and an excellent servant; and he asked
her one day why she had been exiled. She said it was for poisoning her
husband; upon which my friend opened his eyes, and said,--
“Oh, then, perhaps you will murder me?”
“Oh, no, master; I should not murder _you_.”
“Yes, but if you would murder your husband, why not, some day, _me_?”
“Oh, no, master; you would not do as he did, for he beat me every day
for two years.”
Thus it was not altogether a meaningless form at a Russian wedding,
that anciently the bridegroom took to church a whip, and in one part of
the ceremony lightly applied it to the bride’s back, in token that she
was to be in subjection.
It should be remembered, however, that the brutal conduct just
described belongs to a type well known in a certain part of England;
the difference between the two being that the Russian bully beats his
wife with a whip, while the English one kicks her to death. The Russian
wives take very kindly to a moderate amount of such treatment, and
those of the lower class do not murmur or complain, but consider the
“master” has a right to chastise them; and when things do not go so
far as this, they expect, when they do not please their husbands, to
be slapped and corrected accordingly. In fact, the Russian wife among
the lower classes does not take what we think her proper position in
a house. The husband usually goes to market once a week, and buys all
he wants, business of such importance not being entrusted to the wife,
who therefore knows nothing even of the cost of her household articles.
Among the higher classes, also, the master usually sends his chief
servant to market, and pays for all that is consumed in the house.
There came out of this quarrel between man and wife another
characteristic of the Russian peasantry, which perhaps is a remnant
of serfdom, and betrays their want of manliness in the presence of
their superiors. My merchant friend, just referred to, had a convict
in the house whilst I was there, whom once before he had dismissed for
drunkenness. The man came back entreating that he might be reinstated,
but his master said, “No, I have warned you continually, and done
everything I could to keep you sober, but in vain.” “Yes, sir,” said
the man; “but then, sir, you should have given me a good thrashing.”
So with the fighting husband at Irkutsk: after receiving his stripes
he went away, but soon after came back, thanking the gentleman for
his thrashing, and promising to behave better in future. In the days
of serfdom, it was no uncommon thing for a gentleman to box the ears
of his droshky driver; but this cannot now be done with impunity. My
mercantile friend told me he was one day driving in Petersburg with
a Russian gentleman, when the latter struck the isvostchik for doing
something that displeased him; whereupon the man turned round and said,
“No more of that, sir; those days are gone by, and if you strike me
again I shall return it,”--a threat quite unbearable to a _blagorodni_,
or “noble”; and he was about to go on as of old, when my friend said,
“Look! you had better not; for if you are summoned, and I am called as
a witness, I shall be bound to say that you began it”; whereupon he
desisted.
We took an early opportunity after the fire to deliver up to General
Khamenoff, its owner, the second tarantass we had borrowed at Tomsk,
and in which my companion and I had driven and slept for a thousand
miles. Our benefactor was in reality a rich merchant, and had given,
if I mistake not, very handsome sums of money for educational purposes
in Irkutsk. This patriotic action had gained him the distinction of
“General.” His buildings had been saved, and we thus had an opportunity
of seeing the house of one well-to-do merchant at Irkutsk.
The General was getting old, and appeared in a long dressing-gown,
coming out of his beautiful garden, and seating us in a little
secretarial chamber, which had about it sundry marks of foreign
influence and taste. Before joining us, however, he bade adieu to
a previous visitor, and called his footman to open the door. There
was something inexpressibly droll about his manner of doing so, for
he simply gave a prolonged grunt--ugh!!--and as the footman did not
come at grunt number one, it was repeated, and the servant in passing
received from his master a cuff at the back of the head, doing so with
a grin and a duck of the noddle, as a schoolboy receives a blow from
his mother’s palm, knowing that he shall not be hurt. The old gentleman
then heard from us how we had escaped from the hotel, and how we were
making a sleeping chamber of his tarantass, which he said we might
continue to do until we left the town.
I was anxious to learn something of the state of ecclesiastical affairs
in the province, and to inquire what the Russian Church was doing in
her missions to the Buriats. The chief ecclesiastic of the province is
one Benjamin, Archbishop of Irkutsk and Nertchinsk, under whom is a
suffragan bishop, Meleti of Selenginsk. The Diocese has 347 churches
and chapels, 5 monasteries, and one nunnery. One of the monasteries
is near Lake Baikal, and here lives, if I mistake not, the Bishop of
Selenginsk, who could have given information about the Buriats, but
the monastery lay too far out of our way to allow of our visiting
it. Nor were we successful with the Archbishop; for on going to the
monastery, his official residence, which had narrowly escaped the fire,
we found him gone to his country residence in the suburbs. “When will
he return?” we asked. “God knows,” said our priest informant; thereby
using an expression which I observed to be very common among all
classes of Russians.[5]
On the Tuesday morning after the fire we were to be presented, as I
have said, to the acting Governor-General of Eastern Siberia. The
supreme Governor-General was Baron Friedrichs, to whom I had two
private letters of introduction, besides my official documents; also
we had made the acquaintance of his son when travelling on the Obi.
The Baron, who was in ill-health, was at some mineral springs on
the Mongolian frontier, and his place was filled at the time of our
visit by M. Lochwitzky, the Governor of Yeneseisk, to whom we were
presented by General Ismailoff. We met at the Governor-General’s house,
the finest in the city, having been originally built and furnished,
regardless of expense, by an enormously rich tea merchant. We
found M. Lochwitzky the first of the Siberian Governors (except the
Governor-General in the West) who could converse in French. He entered
readily into my plans for the distribution of books, thanked me for
those I had left at Krasnoiarsk for his province, and promised to do
for me what was a great boon, namely, to send some books to the town
of Yakutsk, to be distributed throughout that largest province of the
country. We were introduced to a Colonel Solovief, whose brother was in
London, as Secretary to the Grand Duchess of Edinburgh; and after an
assurance from the Governor-General that he would do all he could to
further our wishes, we started to see the prisons, under the conduct of
the Procureur of the town.
We drove through the ruins of the fire, and then crossed, by a wooden
bridge 300 yards long, the Uska-Kofka, by which one side of Irkutsk
is bounded. This stream divides the town from the prison and the
workshops, where a certain number of convicts are employed.[6] Speaking
generally, the prison seemed to me to resemble others I had seen in
Siberia, and to call for no special remark. Perhaps, however, I ought
to add that before I left the town I had the opportunity of hearing
about the establishment from a prisoner’s point of view. Thus I heard
that, at six o’clock on the morning of our visit, the prisoners were
told to have all in order because some Englishmen were expected, and
that certain objectionable things were hidden away. I thought, however,
that it did not speak much for my informant’s candour when, on pressing
him to say what the objectionable things were, he did not tell me.
Again, my informant tried to make it appear that the officers stole
the prisoners’ food by giving them short quantity, though he said the
_quality_ of the food was good enough. The Procureur said the prisoners
did not eat all the food allowed them; and from the quantity of pieces
of bread which we so often saw lying about in Russian prisons, I should
be disposed to think this true. This seems to be so common, that we
were told at Tiumen the prisoners may _sell_ what they do not eat; but
at Irkutsk my informant said that they did not receive more than half
their allowance, and that a quarter of a pound only of meat was given
for 10 men--a quantity so ridiculously small, that one could not but
think that here exaggeration must have overshot the mark. Moreover, my
informant told me that what he said was not from personal experience,
because he was not one of the peasant prisoners whose circumstances he
professed to relate.[7]
I was told in the town that to take books to the Irkutsk prison was a
work of supererogation; and I confess to a feeling of disappointment
when, on asking to see the library, I was taken to a cupboard full of
New Testaments and tracts, precisely the same as some of those I was
distributing, but all kept so fresh and in such order that evidently no
one had used them. The committee was reported to have spent as much as
£30 on books for the prison, but the officials had evidently not made
the books accessible to those for whom they were intended. Their excuse
was that the prisoners did not ask for them; but no doubt the officials
were afraid of their being torn, and that trouble would ensue, and so
had kept them locked up. It reminded me of what my Finnish friend had
written, that when she went to the prison, the officials said, “The
books must be arranged in order, in case the inspector should come”;
and thus the books were practically kept from the inmates. When the
Governor asked me what I thought of the prison, I did not fail to
point out the inconsistency of withholding the books; but of this he
was ignorant, and he promised to look into the matter. I endeavoured
also to make clear, in speech and by writing, that wherever my books
or tracts went throughout the province, they were to be placed within
reach at all times of the prisoners, and not to be put away in any of
the libraries.
Thus we inspected the two prisons, and also saw a school built by the
committee for prisoners’ children; in it were 42 scholars. We visited
likewise a gentleman named Sokoloff, who was the deputy-inspector of
schools for Eastern Siberia. There is also an inspector of schools for
Western Siberia, who lives at Omsk. I was surprised to hear of the many
schools and scholars in the sparsely-populated and, for scholastic
purposes, exceedingly difficult country of Eastern Siberia.[8] Our
object in calling upon the inspector was to ask him to distribute
throughout the schools copies of my tracts and periodicals, and to that
end I began by showing my credentials. But upon hearing my object, he
said that was quite sufficient; and he needed to see no papers, but
would willingly help. He bought, moreover, on his own account, 200 New
Testaments for 40 roubles, to give as prizes to the young schoolmasters
on leaving the institution, by which means the books would be scattered
widely.[9]
We now considered our next step. My original idea, when leaving
England, as already intimated, was to proceed to Irkutsk; and then,
after running on to Kiakhta for the gratification of seeing a Chinese
town, to return to Europe, and come home by the Caucasus and the
Mediterranean. I had been warned before quitting London that I should
see nothing of the severities of Siberian exile-life if I did not
penetrate the region beyond Lake Baikal; and, travelling on the Obi,
this statement was confirmed by a Russian officer in the prison
service. I feared, however, I could not do this in a single summer, and
that, if I went so far east, I should be unable to return before winter
set in. It never occurred to me that there was any available way of
reaching the Pacific from Irkutsk other than by crossing the Mongolian
desert to China, and this I was not disposed to do.
But when I learned that there was a service of steamers on the Amur,
this opened the way for other possibilities; and on June 21st, as
we rolled away from Tomsk, there dawned upon my mind a thought, the
conception of which seemed at once to promise the birth of great
things. What, said I to myself, if I could go right across Asia and
leave so many copies of Scripture as would suffice for putting at
least a New Testament or a copy of the Gospels in every room of every
prison, and in every ward of every hospital, throughout the whole of
Siberia! As I look back upon it now as an accomplished fact, the matter
seems ordinary enough; but when the thought came into my mind it looked
like a consummation far beyond anything I had hoped to accomplish,
and a result which, if it might be compassed, would be a cause of
thankfulness for the rest of my life.
Accordingly I quietly nursed the idea till we reached Irkutsk, thus far
having given a sufficiency of books answerable to the plan for all the
provinces behind me; and there yet remained three before me. Several
boxes of books were unopened, but these could not be sent forward,
because, in the first place, there was no carrier, or, if there were,
the fire had confounded all order; and even if some one could be
persuaded to take the books, it was very doubtful if they would reach
the hands of the prisoners unless I went with them in person and showed
my credentials.
I determined, therefore, to journey onward and do my best to carry out
the scheme which had taken possession of my mind. But to do this it was
necessary to have supplementary documents, for I had asked the Minister
of the Interior for letters only as far as Kiakhta. M. Lochwitzky,
however, most kindly helped in the matter, and gave me the letters I
needed for my extended plans. We were then free to go forward again
(which the reader may do at once, if he prefers, by missing the next
two chapters); but something must first be said of the routes by which
former travellers have proceeded eastwards.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Compared with some of the enormous provinces of Siberia, that of
Irkutsk is comparatively small, with an area of 300,000 square miles
only; that is, about the size of Sweden and Norway. The surface is
mountainous, and through it flow two rivers of importance, namely, the
Angara, issuing from Lake Baikal, and the Lena, which rises not far
from the capital. The province is divided into five uyezds, and has a
population of 380,000, of whom only 10 per cent. are dwellers in towns.
Marriages 4,600, and 25,000 births are recorded in the province yearly.
[2] I was specially anxious to open a depôt for the Bible Society in
Irkutsk, and to that end called upon a bookseller and printer named
Sinitzun, of Harlampi Street, and invited him to become a depositary.
He replied that he had the will to do so, but that he must first
consult his partners; for it was doubted whether the city would be
rebuilt, and whether persons having lost their premises would not,
instead of re-erecting them, go and live elsewhere. I have heard, since
my return, however, that the town is rising from its ashes even on a
grander scale than it formerly possessed.
[3] The Russians have reason, however, for constant suspicion, for they
have a revengeful way of “letting loose the red cock” upon a man, which
means setting his house on fire; and this is only too common among the
peasants of Siberia, as, in fact, generally in all Russia. Thus, of 758
fires which took place in Siberia in 1876, no less than 99, or more
than one-eighth, were due to incendiaries, to say nothing of nearly
500 more of which the causes could not be traced. Further particulars
relating to these 758 fires are, that 185 were registered as due to
“carelessness,” and 10 to lightning, whilst the estimated loss of the
whole 758 was reckoned at £82,162. With such a number of fires it is
not difficult to understand the dread of destruction in which Siberians
live, nor their practice of having a large chest in the house, in which
they habitually keep their valuables, to be removed, if necessary, at a
moment’s notice.
[4] This assault by the husband was, as far as I know, quite unprovoked
on the part of his better half, and it serves as an illustration of
the way in which a certain class of the Russians treat their wives.
It also serves to confirm what is written of Akoulka’s husband in
Dostoyeffsky’s “Buried Alive,” where two prisoners are talking in the
night, and one relates: “I had got, somehow or other, in the way of
beating her. Some days I would keep at it from morning till night. I
did not know what to do with myself when I was not beating her. She
used to sit crying, and I could not help feeling sorry for her, and so
I beat her.” Subsequently he murdered her. After which relation, the
other prisoner acquiesces, and says that “wives _must_ be beaten to be
of any service.”
[5] The chief ecclesiastical shrine of Irkutsk is a large church a
little way out of the city. In it are the remains, gorgeously entombed,
of St. Innokente, said to be preserved as fresh as when he died.
This man is regarded as the apostle of Siberia. He was originally a
missionary, who, in 1721, was sent to China; but the Chinese Government
refusing him admission to their country, he settled six years
afterwards at Irkutsk.
[6] There were 270 men in the prison, one room holding 21 murderers,
another 28 thieves, a third 20 forgers, a fourth 28 who had been
exchanging their names and punishments, and a fifth 39 who were
“without passports,” and so on. In one room they were making
match-boxes, for which they received for themselves a tenth of their
earnings. Other prisoners were making furniture, of which the materials
were supplied by the prison officers, and for which, of course, they
recouped themselves.
[7] The citizen prisoners, he said, were allowed in money 17½ kopecks a
day, which they could spend as they pleased, and with which they could
buy a pound of meat (10 kopecks), and 2½ lbs. of bread (7½ kopecks).
They have, however, in Irkutsk, a liberal prison committee, who help
in the matter of food--the cabbage in the soup, for instance, being
provided by them; and my informant, though grumbling about almost
everything else, allowed that the dinners given to the sick, which cost
20 kopecks, and all the arrangements about the prison hospital, were
exceedingly good. There were even books provided for the patients,
but this was through the kindness of the doctor. My non-official
informant also alleged that the prison officials took from the pay
of the workmen, giving them far less than the value of their labour,
and so unrighteously enriched themselves. His tone, however, was so
exceedingly bitter, that had he not allowed that there was _one_
good thing in connection with the prison, I should have discredited
all he said, especially as he dealt so much in generals, and avoided
particulars. As it was, I thought perhaps he might have spoken the
truth in some respects. I heard subsequently, from another exile, that
the Director of the prison received only £40 a year for salary, whilst
from another I heard £120 or £150; and if either of these figures
are true, it is not difficult to see that a dishonest official may
be strongly tempted to take advantage (as the Russians say) “of his
opportunities.” These “opportunities,” however, are not confined to
matters of food. I heard of a prison director at Nijni Udinsk who had
orders to send 30 prisoners to Nikolaefsk, which for certain reasons
is a favourite place with the convicts; whereupon this director made
his choice to fall upon those whose wives could pay him 25 roubles,
or 50 shillings. This looks a large amount for a prisoner to pay, but
my informant had in possession 50 roubles to be transferred for this
purpose.
[8] Mr. Sokoloff had under his inspection, in 1878, 13 classical
schools, 1 commercial, 1 industrial, 11 inferior, and 211 elementary
schools, attended by 6,000 boys and 1,500 girls. These figures,
moreover, were exclusive of the Amur district, and parts about the
Sea of Okhotsk. There were also under his inspection two training
institutions, one of them being the house at which we called--a new
building for the training, at one time, of 80 village schoolmasters.
Its furniture and fittings were admirable. It had an excellent museum,
and a room for tutorial practice; and I was particularly struck with
the number of models and apparatus for the teaching of natural science.
[9] Besides these sent to the inspector, we confided to M. Lochwitzky
for the government of Yakutsk, and for Eastern Siberia generally, about
170 New Testaments and portions of Scripture, and upwards of 3,000
tracts and periodicals; and with General Ismailoff, for the province
of Irkutsk, about the same number of Scriptures, but rather less of
other papers. We also left with General Ismailoff 500 Finnish tracts
and books for the German pastor, Ratcke; these last I have since
heard from the pastor were specially acceptable, inasmuch as when he
returned to Irkutsk he found all his books burnt. I have heard, too,
since my return, from M. Lochwitzky, that those in his hands have been
distributed according to my directions.