linen; and the reader will remark with justice that this is inconsistent
with the relations between the two. I am sorry, but I cannot help it. It
is really true that female persistence triumphed, as it always does,
over male violence. My grandmother got more than one beating over the
coarse linen, but she continued to supply him with it till at last her
husband got used to it. He resorted once to extreme measures: he took an
axe and chopped up all his objectionable shirts on the threshold of his
room, while my grandmother howled at the sight and implored him to beat
_her_ rather than spoil his good clothes. But even this device failed:
the coarse shirts appeared once more, and the victim submitted. I must
apologise for interrupting my narrative, in order to meet an imaginary
objection on the part of the reader.
Without troubling any one, he went himself to the store-room, fetched a
woollen mat, and spread it out on the top step of the stoop; then he sat
down upon it, meaning to follow his regular custom of watching the sun
rise. To see sunrise gives every man a kind of half-conscious pleasure;
and my grandfather felt an added satisfaction when he looked down over
his courtyard, by this time sufficiently equipped with all the buildings
necessary for his farming operations. The court was not, indeed, fenced;
and the animals, when turned out of the peasants' yards, used to pay it
passing visits, before they were all gathered together and driven to the
common pasture. So it was on this morning; and the same thing was
repeated every evening. Some pigs, fresh from the mire, rubbed and
scratched themselves against the very stoop on which my grandfather was
sitting, while they feasted with grunts of satisfaction on crab-shells
and other refuse from the table which that unsophisticated household
deposited close to the steps. Cows and sheep also looked in, and it was
inevitable that these visitors should leave uncleanly tokens behind
them. But to this my grandfather did not object in the least. On the
contrary, he looked with pleasure at the fine beasts, taking them as a
certain indication that his peasants were doing well. The loud cracking
of the herdsman's long whip soon evicted the trespassers. Now the
servants began to stir. The stout groom, Spiridon--known even in
advanced old age as "little Spirka"--led out, one after another, three
colts, two bays and one brown. He tied them to a post, rubbed them down,
and exercised them at the end of a long halter, while my grandfather
admired their paces and also admired in fancy the stock he hoped to
raise from them--a dream which he realised with entire success. Then the
old housekeeper came forth from the cellar in which she slept, and went
down to the river to wash. First she sighed and groaned, according to
her invariable custom; then she turned towards the sunrise and said a
prayer, before she set to work at washing and scrubbing plates and
dishes. Swallows and martins twittered cheerfully as they cut circles in
the air, quails called loudly in the fields, the song of the larks
rained down from the sky, the hoarse note of the sitting landrails came
from the bushes, and the bleat of the snipe from the neighbouring marsh,
the mocking-birds imitated the nightingales with all their might; and
forth from behind the hill issued the bright sun! Blue smoke rose in
columns from the peasants' houses and then swayed in the breeze like the
fluttering flags of a line of ships; and soon the labourers were
plodding towards the fields.
My grandfather began to feel a desire for cold water to wash in and then
for his tea. He roused his two servants from their ungainly attitudes;
and they jumped up in a great fright at first, but were soon reassured
by his good-humoured voice: "Mazan, my washing things! Tanaichonok, wake
Aksyutka and your mistress, and then tea!" There was no need to repeat
these orders: clumsy Mazan was already flying at top speed to the spring
for water, carrying a glittering copper basin, while handy Tanaichonok
woke up Aksyutka, a young but ugly maid; and she, while she put straight
the kerchief on her head, called her mistress, Arina Vassilyevna, now
grown old and stout. In a few minutes all the household were on their
legs, and all knew by this time that the old master had got out of bed
on the right side! A quarter of an hour later, a table was standing by
the stoop--the white tablecloth was home-made and adorned with a
pattern--a _samovar_,[16] in the shape of a large copper teapot, was
hissing on the table, and Aksyutka was busy about the tea. Meanwhile
Arina Vassilyevna was greeting her husband. On some mornings it was the
etiquette to sigh and look sorrowful; but to-day she asked after his
health in a loud cheerful voice: "How had he slept? What dreams had he
had?" Stepan Mihailovitch greeted his wife affectionately and called her
"Arisha"; he never kissed her hand, but sometimes gave her his to kiss
as a sign of favour. Arina Vassilyevna, in her pleasure, looked quite
young and pretty; one forgot her stout awkward figure. She brought a
stool at once and sat down on the stoop beside my grandfather, which she
never ventured to do unless he was in a very good humour. "Come, Arisha,
let us have a cup of tea together before it gets hot," said Stepan
Mihailovitch; "it was a stifling night, but I slept so sound that I have
forgotten all my dreams. How did you sleep?" This question was a signal
mark of favour, and my grandmother replied at once that, when Stepan
Mihailovitch had a good night, she of course had one too, but that
Tanyusha[17] was restless all night. Tanyusha was the youngest daughter
and, as often happens, her father's favourite. He was vexed to hear this
account of her, and ordered that she was not to be called but to sleep
on till she woke. She had been called at the same time as her sisters
Alexandra and Elizabeth, and was dressed already; but no one ventured to
mention this fact. She made haste to undress, got back into bed, and had
the shutters drawn. She could not get to sleep, but she lay in the dark
for two hours; and her father was pleased that Tanyusha had had her
sleep out. The only son,[18] who was now nine, was never wakened early.
But the two elder daughters appeared immediately; and Stepan
Mihailovitch gave them his hand to kiss and called them by their pet
names, Lexanya and Lizanka. They were both clever girls, and Alexandra
had also inherited her father's active mind and violent temper but none
of his good qualities. My grandmother, a very simple woman, was entirely
under the thumb of her daughters; and, whenever she ventured to play
tricks upon Stepan Mihailovitch, it was because they had put her up to
it; but she was so clumsy that she seldom succeeded, and her husband
knew very well who was at the bottom of it. He knew also that his
daughters were prepared to deceive him whenever they got the
chance--though, for the sake of a quiet life, he let them suppose that
he was blind to their goings-on. But this only lasted while he was in a
good temper: as soon as he got angry, he stated his view of their
conduct in the most unsparing and uncomplimentary terms, and sometimes
even chastised them. But, like true daughters of Eve, they were not
discouraged. When the fit of anger passed and the cloud lifted from
their father's brow, they started again upon their underhand schemes,
and pretty often they were successful in carrying them out.
[16] An urn, with a central receptacle for hot charcoal. In this case,
the receptacle is inserted where the teapot lid should be.
[17] A diminutive form of Tatyana.
[18] The author's father, called throughout Alexyei; his real name was
Timofei (Timothy). So his mother, whose name was Marya (Mary) is
called Sofya (Sophia).
When he had drunk his tea and talked about things in general with his
womankind, my grandfather got ready to drive out. Some time before, he
had said to Mazan, "My horse!"--and an old brown gelding was already
standing by the steps, harnessed to a long car, a very comfortable
conveyance, with an outer frame-work of netting and a plank, covered
with felt, to sit on. Spiridon, the driver, wore a simple livery: he had
bare feet and nothing on but his shirt, with a red woollen belt, from
which hung a key and a copper comb. On a similar occasion on the
previous day, he had worn no hat; but this had been disapproved of, and
he now wore some head-gear which he had woven out of broad strips of
bast.[19] My grandfather made merry over this "sunbonnet." Then he put
on his own cap and long coat of unbleached home-made cloth, placed
beneath him his heavy cloak in case of rain, and took his seat on the
car. Spiridon also folded his coat and sat upon it; it was made of
unbleached cloth but dyed bright red with madder. Madder grew freely in
the fields round Bagrovo, and was so much used that the servants about
the house were called by the neighbours "redbreasts"; I have heard the
nickname myself fifteen years after my grandfather's death.
[19] The inner bark of the lime-tree, used for many purposes in Russia.
In the fields, Stepan Mihailovitch found everything to his mind. He
examined the rye-crop; it was now past flowering and stood up like a
wall, as high as a man; a light breeze was blowing, and bluish-purple
waves went over it, now lighter and now darker in the sunlight; and the
sight gladdened his heart. He visited the young oats and millet and all
the spring-sown crops, and then went to the fallow, where he ordered his
car to be driven backwards and forwards over the field. This was his
regular way of testing the goodness of the work: any spot of ground that
had not been properly ploughed and harrowed gave the light car a jolt;
and, when my grandfather was not in a good humour, he stuck a twig or a
stick in the ground at the place, sent for the bailiff if he was not
present, and settled accounts with him on the spot. But to-day all went
well: his wheels may have encountered such obstacles, but he took no
notice of them. His next point was the hay-fields, where he admired the
tall thick steppe-grass which was to fall beneath the scythe before many
days were past. He paid a visit to the peasants' fields also, to see for
himself, who had a good crop and who had not; and he drove over their
fallow to test it. He noticed everything and forgot nothing. Passing
over an untilled strip, he saw some wild strawberries nearly ripe; he
stopped and, with Mazan's help, picked a large handful of splendid big
berries, which he took home as a present for his "Arisha." In spite of
the great heat, he was out till nearly noon.
As soon as my grandfather's car was seen descending the hill, dinner was
set on the table, and all the family stood on the steps to receive him.
"Well, Arisha," he called out cheerfully, "what splendid crops God is
giving us this year! Great is His goodness! And here are some
strawberries for you; they are nearly ripe; the pickers must go out
to-morrow." This attention was almost too much for my grandmother. As he
spoke, he walked into the house, and the smell of the hot cabbage-soup
came to meet him from the parlour. "Ah! I see dinner's ready; good!"
said Stepan Mihailovitch more cheerfully than before, and walked
straight into the parlour and sat down at table, without visiting his
own room. I should mention that my grandfather had a rule: at whatever
hour, early or late, he returned from the fields, dinner must be on the
table, and Heaven help the women, if they did not notice him coming and
failed to serve the meal in time! There were occasions when such neglect
gave rise to sad consequences; but, on this happy day, everything went
without a hitch. Behind my grandfather's chair stood a stout lad,
holding a birch-bough with the leaves on, to drive away the flies. The
hottest weather will not make a true Russian refuse cabbage-soup, and my
grandfather supped his with a wooden spoon, because silver would have
burnt his lips. Soup was followed by a fish-salad, made of kippered
sturgeon, as yellow as wax, and shelled crayfish. All the courses were
of this light kind, and were washed down with _kvass_[20] and home-made
beer; the drinks were iced and so was the salad. There were days when
dinner was eaten in terrible stillness and silent dread of an explosion;
but this was a cheerful meal, with much loud talking and laughing. Every
boy and girl about the place had heard that the master was in a cheerful
temper, and they all crowded into the parlour in hopes of a "piece." He
gave them all something good to eat; for there was five times as much
food on the table as the family could eat.
[20] A drink made of malt and rye.
Immediately after dinner he went to lie down. All flies were expelled
from the bed-curtains, and the curtains drawn round him with the ends
tucked under the mattress; and soon his mighty snoring proclaimed that
the master was asleep. All the rest went to their rooms to lie down.
Mazan and Tanaichonok, when they had had their dinner and swallowed
their share of the remnants from the dining-room table, also lay down in
the passage, close to the door of my grandfather's bedroom. Though they
had slept before dinner, they went to sleep again at once; but they were
soon wakened by the heat and the burning rays of the sun coming through
the windows. They felt a strong desire to cool their parched throats
with some of their master's iced beer; and the bold scamps managed to
get it in the following way. My grandfather's dressing-gown and nightcap
were lying on a chair near the half-open door of his room. Tanaichonok
put them on and sat down on the stoop, while Mazan went off to the
cellar with a jug and wakened the old housekeeper, who like every soul
in the house was fast asleep. He said his master was awake and wanted an
iced tankard at once. She was surprised at his waking so soon; but Mazan
then pointed to the figure in the dressing-gown and nightcap sitting on
the stoop. The beer was drawn at once and ice added; and Mazan went
quickly back with his prize. The cronies shared the jug between them and
then replaced the garments. An hour later their master awoke in
excellent humour, and his first words were, "Iced beer!" This frightened
the rascals; and, when Tanaichonok hurried off to the cellar, the
housekeeper guessed at once where the previous jug had gone. She
produced the liquor, but followed the messenger back herself, and found
the real Simon Pure sitting on the stoop and wearing the dressing-gown.
The truth came out at once; and Mazan and Tanaichonok shaking with fear
fell at their master's feet. And what do you think my grandfather did?
He burst out laughing, sent for his wife and daughters, and told them
the story with loud bursts of laughter. The culprits breathed again, and
one of them even ventured to grin. But Stepan Mihailovitch noticed this
and very nearly grew angry: he frowned, but the composing effect of his
good day was so strong that his face cleared up, and he said with a
significant look, "Well, I forgive you this once; but, if it happens
again ..."--there was no need to end the sentence.
It is certainly strange that the servants of a man so passionate and so
violent in his moments of passion should dare to be so impudent. But I
have often noticed in the course of my life that the strictest masters
have the most venturesome and reckless servants. My grandfather had
other experiences of a similar kind. This same servant, Mazan, was
sweeping out his master's room one day and preparing to make the bed,
when he was suddenly tempted by the soft down of the bedding and
pillows. He thought he would like a little taste of luxury; so down he
lay on his master's bed and fell asleep. My grandfather himself came
upon him sound asleep, and only laughed! He did, indeed, give the man
one good rap with his staff; but that was nothing--he only did it in
order to see how frightened Mazan would be. Worse tricks than these were
played upon Stepan Mihailovitch in his time. During his absence from
home, his cousin and ward, Praskovya Ivanovna Bagroff, was given in
marriage to a dangerous and disreputable man whom he detested; the girl,
who was only fourteen and a great heiress, was an inmate of Bagrovo and
very dear to its owner. It is true that the plot was executed by the
girl's relations on her mother's side; but Arina Vassilyevna gave her
consent, and her daughters were actively engaged in it. But I shall
return to my narrative for the present and leave this incident to be
told later.
He woke up at five in the afternoon and drank his iced beer. Soon
afterwards he wanted his tea, in spite of the sultry heat of the day;
for he believed that a very hot drink makes hot weather more bearable.
But first he went down to bathe in the cool waters of the river, which
flowed under the windows of the house. When he came back, the whole
family were waiting for him at the tea-table--the same table set in the
shade, with the same hissing teapot and the same Aksyutka. When he had
drunk his fill of his favourite sudorific beverage, with cream so thick
that the curd on it was yellow, my grandfather proposed that the whole
party should make an expedition to the mill. The plan was received with
joy; and Alexandra and Tatyana, who were fond of angling, took
fishing-rods with them. Two cars were brought round in a minute. Stepan
Mihailovitch and his wife took their seats on one, and placed between
them their one boy,[21] the precious scion of their ancient and noble
line; while the other carried the three daughters, with a boy to dig for
worms on the mill-dam and bait their hooks for the young ladies. When
they reached the mill, a seat was brought out for Arina Vassilyevna, and
she sat down in the shade of the building, not far from the mill-race
where her daughters were fishing. Meanwhile Elizabeth, the eldest,
partly to please her father and partly from her own interest in such
matters, went with Stepan Mihailovitch to inspect the mill and the
pounding-machine. The little boy either watched his sisters fishing--he
was not allowed to fish himself in deep places--or played beside his
mother, who never took her eyes off him, in her fear that the child
would somehow tumble in.
[21] The author's father.
Both sets of millstones were at work, one making wheat-flour for the
master's table, and the other grinding rye for a neighbour; and there
was millet under the pounding-machine. My grandfather was well
acquainted with all farming operations: he understood a mill thoroughly
and explained all the details to his attentive and intelligent
companion. He saw in a moment any defect in the machinery or mistake in
the position of the stones. One of them he ordered to be lowered half a
notch, and the rye-meal came out finer, to the great satisfaction of its
owner. At the other stone, his ear detected at once that one of the cogs
on the small wheel was getting worn. He stopped the current, and
Boltunyonok,[22] the miller, jumped down beside the wheel. He looked at
it and felt it and then said, "You are quite right, _batyushka_ Stepan
Mihailovitch! One of the cogs is a little worn." "A little you call
it!"--said my grandfather, not at all vexed: "but for my coming, the
wheel would have snapped this very night!" "I am sorry I did not notice
it, Stepan Mihailovitch." "Well, never mind! Bring a new wheel, and take
the worn cog off the other; and mind the new cog is neither thicker nor
thinner than the rest; the whole secret lies in that." The new wheel,
fitted and tested beforehand, was fixed at once and greased with tar;
and the current was turned on by degrees, also by my grandfather's
instructions; at once the stone began to hum and grind smoothly and
evenly, with no stumbling or knocking. The visitors went next to the
pounding-machine, where my grandfather took a handful of millet from the
mortar. He blew the chaff away and said to the man who had brought the
grain to the mill, a Mordvinian and an old acquaintance: "Have a care,
friend Vaska! If you look, every grain is pounded already, and, if you
go on, you will have less of it." Vaska tried it himself and saw that my
grandfather was right. He said, "Thank you," ducked his head by way of
bowing, and ran off to stop the current. Their last visit was to the
poultry-yard, where a large number of ducks and geese, hens and turkeys,
were looked after by an old woman and her little grand-daughter.
Everything here was in excellent order. As a sign of special favour, my
grandfather gave both of them his hand to kiss, and ordered that the
hen-wife should get an extra allowance of 20 lbs. of wheat-flour every
month to make pies with. Stepan Mihailovitch rejoined his wife in good
spirits. Everything had gone right: his daughter had shown intelligence,
the mill was working well, and the hen-wife, Tatyana Gorozhana,[23] was
attending to her duties.
[22] A nickname: "Little Chatterer," a diminutive of _boltun_.
[23] She had got this nickname ("the town-woman") because she had spent
part of her youth in some town.
The heat had long been abating; coolness came from the water and from
the approach of evening; a long cloud of dust drifted along the road and
came nearer the village with the bleating of sheep and lowing of cattle;
the sun was losing light and sinking behind the steep hill. Stepan
Mihailovitch stood on the mill-dam and surveyed the wide mirror of the
pond as it lay motionless in the frame of its sloping banks. A fish
jumped from time to time; but my grandfather was no fisherman. "Time to
go home, Arisha," he said at last: "I expect the bailiff is waiting for
me." Seeing his good humour, his daughters asked leave to fish on: they
said the fish would take better at sunset, and they would walk home in
half an hour. Leave was given, and the old couple started for home on
one of the cars, while Elizabeth took her little brother in the other.
As Stepan Mihailovitch had expected, the bailiff was waiting for him by
the stoop, and some peasants and their wives were there with him; they
had got a hint from the bailiff, who knew already that his master was in
the right mood, and now seized the opportunity to state some exceptional
needs or prefer some exceptional requests. Not one of them was
disappointed. To one my grandfather gave corn, and forgave an old debt
which the man could have paid; another was allowed to marry his son
before the winter[24] and to a girl of their own choosing; he gave leave
to a soldier's wife,[25] who was to be turned out of the village for
misconduct, to go on living with her father; and so on. Nor was that
all: strong home-made spirits were offered to each of them, in a silver
cup which held more than an ordinary dram. Then my grandfather gave his
orders to the bailiff, shortly and clearly, and went off to his supper
which had been standing ready some time. The evening meal did not differ
much from the midday dinner; but the cooler air probably gave a keener
edge to appetite. It was a custom with Stepan Mihailovitch to send his
family off to bed and sit up for half an hour or so on the stoop, with
nothing on but his shirt, for the sake of coolness. This day he stayed
there longer than usual, laughing and jesting with Mazan and
Tanaichonok; he made them wrestle and fight with their fists, and urged
them on till they began to hit out in earnest and even clutched each
other by the hair. He had laughed his fill; and now a word of command,
and the tone it was spoken in, brought them to their senses and parted
them.
All the landscape lay before him, still and wonderful, enfolded by the
short summer night. The glow of sunset had not yet disappeared, and
would go on till it gave place to the glow of dawn. Hour by hour, the
depths of the vault of heaven grew darker; hour by hour, the stars
flashed brighter, and the cries of the night birds grew louder, as if
they were becoming more familiar with man; the clack of the mill sounded
nearer in the misty damp of the night air. My grandfather rose from his
stoop, and crossed himself once or twice, looking at the starry sky.
Then, though the heat in his bedroom was stifling, he lay down on the
hot feather-bed and ordered his curtains to be drawn round him.
[24] After harvest is the normal time for peasants' marriages.
[25] A _soldatka_ is a woman whose husband is away serving in the Army.
FRAGMENT II: MIHAIL MAXIMOVITCH KUROLYESSOFF