wretched through fear and anxiety. His ministers were killed by the
revolutionists. Some of the guards placed about his person became
victims of the secret band. Letters bordered with black and threatening
the emperor's life were found among his papers or his clothes. An
explosive powder placed in his handkerchief injured his sight for a
time; a box of asthma pills sent him proved to contain a small but
dangerous infernal machine. He grew haggard through this constant peril;
his hair whitened, his form shrank, his nerves were unstrung.
In February, 1879, Prince Krapotkin, governor-general of Kharkoff, was
killed by a pistol-shot fired into his carriage window. In April a
Nihilist fired five pistol-shots at the czar. In June the Nihilists
resolved to use dynamite with the purpose of destroying the
governors-general of several provinces and the czar and heir-apparent.
Among their victims was the chief of police, while two of his successors
barely escaped death.
The first attempt to kill the czar by dynamite took the form of
excavating mines under three railroads on one of which he was expected
to travel. Of these mines only one was exploded. A house on the Moscow
railroad, not far from that city, was purchased by the conspirators, and
an underground passage excavated from its cellar to the roadway. Here
auger-holes were bored upward in which were inserted iron pipes
communicating with dynamite stored below. On the day when the emperor
was expected to pass, a woman Nihilist named Sophia Perovskya stood
within view of the track, with instructions to wave her handkerchief to
the conspirators in the house at the proper moment. The pilot train
which always preceded the imperial train was allowed to pass. The other
train drew up to take water, and was wrecked by the explosion of the
mine. Fortunately for the emperor, he was in the pilot train and out of
danger.
Some of the participants in this affair were arrested, but their chief,
a German named Hartmann, escaped. Despite the utmost efforts of the
police, he made his way safely out of Russia, aided by Nihilists at
every step, sometimes travelling on foot, at other times in peasants'
carts, finally crossing the frontier and reaching the nest of
conspirators at Geneva. Here he is supposed to have taken part with
others in devising a new and what proved a fatal plot. Meanwhile a fresh
attempt was made on the life of the czar.
On February 5, 1880, Alexander II. was to entertain at dinner in the
Winter Palace a royal visitor, Prince Alexander of Hesse. Fortunately,
the czar was detained for a short time, and the hour fixed for the
dinner had passed when the party proceeded along the corridor to the
dining-hall. The brief delay probably saved their lives, for at that
moment a tremendous explosion took place, wrecking the dining-hall and
completely demolishing the guard-room, which was filled with dead and
dying victims, sixty-seven in all. It proved that a Nihilist had
obtained employment among some carpenters engaged in repairs within the
palace, and had succeeded in storing dynamite in a tool-chest in his
room. He escaped, and was never seen in St. Petersburg again. Two days
later the corpse of a murdered policeman was found on the frozen surface
of the Neva, a paper pinned to his breast threatening with death every
governor-general except Melikoff, the successor of the murdered
Krapotkin.
Their failures had proved so nearly successes that the Nihilists were
rather encouraged than depressed. New plans followed the failure of old
ones. It was proposed to poison the emperor and his son, the murder to
be followed by a revolt of the disaffected in Moscow and St. Petersburg,
the seizure of the palaces, and the establishment of a constitutional
government. This plan, however, was given up as not likely to have the
"_great moral effect_" which the Nihilists hoped to produce.
A Nihilist student in St. Petersburg had sent to the Paris committee of
the society a recipe for a formidable explosive of his invention. A
quantity of this dangerous substance was manufactured in France and
secretly conveyed to St. Petersburg, where bombs to contain it had been
prepared. The plans of the conspirators were now very carefully laid.
They did not propose to fail again, if care could insure success. A
cheesemonger's shop was opened on a street leading to the palace, under
which a mine was laid to the centre of the carriage-way, it being
proposed to kill the czar when out driving. If his carriage should take
another route and follow the street leading from the Catharine Canal, it
was arranged to wreck it with bombs flung by hand. The death of the czar
was the sole thing in view. The conspirators seemed willing freely to
sacrifice their own lives to that object. As regards the mine, it was so
heavily charged with dynamite that its explosion would have wrecked a
great part of the Anitchkoff Palace while killing the czar.
How the explosive material was conveyed from Paris to Russia is a
mystery which was never successfully traced by the police. The utmost
care was taken at the frontiers to prevent the entrance of any
suspicious substance. For a year or two even the tea that came on the
backs of camels from China was carefully searched, while all travellers
were closely examined, and all articles coming from Western Europe were
almost pulled to pieces in the minuteness of the scrutiny. The explosive
is said to have looked like golden syrup, and to have been sweet to the
taste, though acrid in its after-effects. A drop or two let fall on a
hot stove flashed up in a brilliant sheet of flame, though without smell
or noise.
[Illustration: THE ARREST OF A NIHILIST.]
Among the conspirators, one of the most useful was Sophia Perovskya, the
woman already named. She was young, of noble family, handsome, educated,
and fascinating in manner. Her beauty and high connections gave her
opportunities which none of her fellow-conspirators enjoyed, and by her
influence over men of rank and position she was enabled to learn many of
the secrets of the court and to become familiar with all the precautions
taken by the police to insure the safety of the czar. There was another
woman in the plot, a Jewish girl named Hesse Helfman. Eight men
constituted the remainder of the party.
The fatal day came in March, 1881. On the morning of the 12th Melikoff,
minister of the interior, told the czar that a man connected with the
railroad explosion had just been arrested, on whose person were found
papers indicating a new plot. He earnestly entreated Alexander to avoid
exposing himself. On the next morning the czar went early to mass, and
subsequently accompanied his brother, the Grand Duke Michael, to inspect
his body-guard. Sophia Perovskya had been apprised of these intended
movements, and informed the chief conspirators, who at once determined
that the deed should be done that day. The lover of Hesse Helfman had
been arrested and had at once shot himself. Papers of an incriminating
character had been found in her house, and it was feared that further
delay might frustrate the plot, so that the purpose of waiting until the
czar and his son might be slain together was abandoned. It was not known
which street the czar would take. If he took the one, the mine was to be
exploded; if the other, the bombs were to be thrown.
Two men, Resikoff and Elnikoff, the latter a young man completely under
Sophia's influence, were to throw the bombs. She took a position from
which she might signal the approach of the carriage. As it proved, the
Catharine Canal route was taken. The carriage approached. Everything
wore its usual aspect. There was nothing to excite suspicion. Suddenly a
dark object was hurled from the sidewalk through the air and a
tremendous report was heard. Resikoff had flung his bomb. A baker's boy
and the Cossack footman of the czar were instantly killed, but the
intended victim was unhurt and the horses were only slightly wounded.
The coachman, who had escaped injury, wished to drive onward at speed
out of the quickly gathering crowd, but Alexander, who had seen his
footman fall, insisted on getting out of the carriage to assist him. It
was a fatal resolve. As his feet touched the ground, Elnikoff flung his
bomb. It exploded at the feet of the czar with such force as to throw
men many yards distant to the ground, but proved fatal to only two,
Elnikoff, who was instantly killed, and Alexander, who was mortally
wounded, his lower limbs and the lower part of his body being
frightfully shattered. He survived for a few hours in dreadful pain.
Terrible as was the crime, it was worse than useless. The proposed
rising did not take place. A new czar immediately succeeded the dead
one. The hoped-for constitution perished with him upon whom it depended.
The Nihilists, instead of gaining liberal institutions, had set back the
clock of reform for a generation, and perhaps much longer. Of the
conspirators, one of the men was killed, one shot himself, and two
escaped; the other four were executed. Of the women, Sophia was
executed. She knew too much, and those who had betrayed to her the
secrets of the court, fearing that she might implicate them, privately
urged the new czar to sign her death-warrant. She held her peace, and
died without a word.
_THE ADVANCE OF RUSSIA IN ASIA._
The Emperor of Russia, lord of his people, absolute autocrat over some
one hundred and twenty-five millions of the human race, to-day stands
master not only of half the soil of Europe but of more than a third of
the far greater continent of Asia. To gain some definite idea of the
total extent of this vast empire it may suffice to say that it is
considerably more than double the size of Europe, and nearly as large as
the whole of North America. The tales already given will serve to show
how the European empire of Russia gradually spread outward from its
early home in the city and state of Novgorod until it covered half the
continent. How Russia made its way into Asia has been described in part
in the story of the conquest of Siberia. The remainder needs to be told.
[Illustration: DOWAGER CZARINA OF RUSSIA.]
It is now more than three hundred years since the Cossack robber Yermak
invaded Siberia, and more than two centuries since that vast section of
Northern Asia was added to the Russian empire. The great river Amur,
flowing far through Eastern Siberia to the Pacific, was discovered in
1643 by a party of Cossack hunters, who launched their boats on this
magnificent stream and sailed down it to the sea. It was Chinese soil
through which it ran, its waters flowing through the province of
Manchuria, the native land of the emperors of China.
But to this the Russian pioneers paid little heed. They invaded Chinese
soil, built forts on the Amur, and for forty years war went on. In the
end they were driven out, and China came to her own again.
Thus matters stood until the year 1854. Six years before, an officer
with four Cossacks had been sent down the river to spy out the land.
They never returned, and not a word could be had from China as to their
fate. In the year named the Russians explored the river in force. China
protested, but did not act, and the whole vast territory north of the
stream was proclaimed as Russian soil. Forts were built to make good the
claim, and China helplessly yielded to the gigantic steal. Since then
Russia has laid hands on an extensive slice of Chinese territory which
lies on the Pacific coast far to the south of the Amur, and has forcibly
taken possession of the Japanese island of Saghalien. Her avaricious
eyes are fixed on the kingdom of Corea, and the whole of Manchuria may
yet become Russian soil.
Siberia is by no means the inhospitable land of ice which the name
suggests to our minds. That designation applies well to its northern
half, but not to the Siberia of the south. Here are vast fertile plains,
prolific in grain, which need only the coming railroad facilities to
make this region the granary of the Russian empire. The great rivers and
the numerous lakes of the country abound in valuable fish; large forests
of useful timber are everywhere found; fur-bearing animals yield a rich
harvest in the icy regions of the north; the mineral wealth is immense,
including iron, gold, silver, platinum, copper, and lead; precious
stones are widely found, among them the diamond, emerald, topaz, and
amethyst; and of ornamental stones may be named malachite, jasper, and
porphyry, from which magnificent vases, tables, and other articles of
ornament are made. The region on the Amur and its tributaries is
particularly valuable and rich, and a great population is destined in
the future to find an abiding-place in this vast domain.
South of Siberia lies another immense extent of territory, stretching
across the continent, and comprising the great upland plain known as the
steppes. On this broad expanse rain rarely falls, and its surface is
half a desert, unfit for agriculture, but yielding pasturage to vast
herds of cattle, horses, and sheep, the property of wandering tribes.
Here is the great home of the nomad, and from these broad plains
conquering hordes have poured again and again over the civilized world.
From here came the Huns, who devastated Europe in Roman days; the Turks,
who later overthrew the Eastern Empire; and the Mongols, who, led by
Genghis and Tamerlane, committed frightful ravages in Asia and for
centuries lorded it over Russia.
To-day the greater part of this vast territory belongs to China. But
westward from Chinese Mongolia extends a broad region of the steppes,
bordering upon Europe on the west, and traversed by numerous wandering
tribes known by the name of the Kirghis hordes. For many years Russia,
the great annexer, has been quietly extending her power over the domain
of the hordes, until her rule has become supreme in the land of the
Kirghis, which in all maps of Europe is now given as part of Siberia.
One by one military posts have been established in this semi-desert
realm, the wandering tribes being at first cajoled and in the end
defied. The glove of silk has been at first extended to the tribes, but
within it the hand of iron has always held fast its grasp. The
simple-minded chiefs have easily been brought over to the Russian
schemes. Some of them have been won by money and soft words; others by
some mark of distinction, such as a medal, a handsome sabre, a cocked
hat or a gold-laced coat. Rather than give these up some of them would
have sold half the steppes. They have signed papers of which they did
not understand a word, and given away rights of whose value they were
utterly ignorant.
Thus insidiously has the power of the emperor made its way into the
steppes, fort after fort being built, those in the rear being abandoned
as the country became subdued and new forts arose in the south. Cities
have risen around some of these forts, of which may be mentioned Kopal
and Vernoje, which to-day have thousands of inhabitants.
"Russia is thus surrounding the Kirgheez hordes with civilization," says
the traveller Atkinson, "which will ultimately bring about a moral
revolution in this country. Agriculture and other branches of industry
will be introduced by the Russian peasant, than whom no man can better
adapt himself to circumstances."
Michie, another traveller, gives in brief the general method of the
Russian advance. It will be seen to be similar to that by which the
Indian lands of the western United States were gained. "The Cossacks at
Russian stations make raids on their own account on the Kirgheez, and
subject them to rough treatment. An outbreak occurs which it requires a
military force to subdue. An expedition for this purpose is sent every
year to the Kirgheez steppes. The Russian outposts are pushed farther
and farther south, more disturbances occur, and so the front is year by
year extended, on pretence of keeping peace. This has been the system
pursued by the Russian government in all its aggressions in Asia."
But this does not tell the whole story of the Russian advance in Asia.
South of the Kirghis steppes lies another great and important territory,
known as Central Asia, or Turkestan. Much of this region is absolute
desert, wide expanses of sand, waterless and lifeless, on which to halt
is to court death. Only swift-moving troops of horsemen, or caravans
carrying their own supplies, dare venture upon these arid plains. But
within this realm of sand lie a number of oases whose soil is well
watered and of the highest fertility. Two mighty rivers traverse these
lands, the Amu-Daria--once known as the Oxus--and the
Syr-Daria--formerly the Jaxartes,--both of which flow into the Sea of
Aral. It is to the waters of these streams that the fertility of _the_
oases is due, they being diverted from their course to irrigate the
land.
Three of the oases are of large size. Of these Khiva has the Caspian
Sea as its western boundary, Bokhara lies more to the east, while
northeast of the latter extends Khokand. The deserts surrounding these
oases have long been the lurking-places of the Turkoman nomads, a race
of wild and warlike horsemen, to whom plunder is as the breath of life,
and who for centuries kept Persia in alarm, carrying off hosts of
captives to be sold as slaves.
The religion of Arabia long since made its way into this land, whose
people are fanatical Mohammedans. Its leading cities, Khiva, Bokhara,
and Samarcand, have for many centuries been centres of bigotry. For ages
Turkestan remained a land of mystery. No European was sure for a moment
of life if he ventured to cross its borders. Vambery, the traveller,
penetrated it disguised as a dervish, after years of study of the
language and habits of the Mohammedans, yet he barely escaped with life.
It is pleasant to be able to say that this state of affairs has ceased.
Russia has curbed the violence of the fanatics and the nomads, and the
once silent and mysterious land is now traversed by the iron horse.
The first step of Russian invasion in this quarter was made in 1602. In
that year a Russian force captured the city of Khiva, but was not able
to hold its prize. In 1703, during the reign of Peter the Great, the
Khan of Khiva placed his dominions under Russian rule, and during the
century Khiva continued friendly, but after the opening of the
nineteenth century it became bitterly hostile.
Meanwhile Russia was making its way towards the Caspian and Aral seas.
In 1835 a fort was built on the eastern shore of the Caspian and
several armed steamers were placed on its waters. Four years later war
broke out with Khiva, and the khan was forced to give up some Russian
prisoners he had seized. In 1847 a fort was built on the Sea of Aral, at
the mouth of the Syr-Daria, whose waters formed the only safe avenue to
the desert-girdled khanate of Khokand. Steamers were brought in sections
from Sweden, being carried with great labor across the desert to the
inland sea, on whose banks they were put together and launched. Armed
with cannon, they quickly made their appearance on the navigable waters
of the Syr.
The Amu-Daria is not navigable, so that the Syr at that time formed the
only ready channel of approach to Khokand, and from this to the other
khanates, none of which could be otherwise reached without a long and
dangerous desert march. Russia thus, by planting herself at the mouth of
the Syr, had gained the most available position from which to begin a
career of conquest in Central Asia.
War necessarily followed these steps of invasion. In 1853 the Russians
besieged and captured the fort of Ak Mechet, on the Syr, thought by its
holders to be impregnable. Up the river, bordered on each side by a
narrow band of vegetation from which a desert spread away, the Russians
gradually advanced, finally planting a military post within thirty-two
miles of Tashkend, the military key of Central Asia.
Such was the state of affairs in 1862, when war arose between the
khanates themselves, and the Emir of Bokhara invaded and conquered
Khokand. Russia looked on, awaiting its opportunity. It came at length
in an appeal from the merchants of Tashkend for protection. The
protection came in true Russian style, a Cossack force marching into and
occupying the town, which has since then remained in Russian hands. The
movement of invasion went on until a large portion of Khokand was
seized.
This audacious procedure of the Muscovites, as the Emir of Bokhara
regarded it, roused that ruler to a high pitch of fury and fanaticism.
He imprisoned Colonel Struve, an eminent Russian astronomer who was on a
mission to his capital, and declared a holy war against the invading
infidels.
The emir had little fear of his foes, having what he considered two
impassable lines of defence. Of these the first was the desert, which
enclosed his land as within a wall of sand. The second, and in his view
the more impregnable, was the large number of saints that lay buried in
Bokharan soil, before whose graves the infidel host would surely be
stayed.
He probably soon lost faith in the saints, for the Russians quickly
drove his troops out of Khokand and then invaded Bokhara itself,
defeating his troops near the venerable and famous city of Samarcand, of
which they immediately afterwards took possession. These infidel
assaults soon brought the holy war to an end, the emir being forced to
cede Samarcand and three other places to Russia, the four being so
chosen as to give the invaders full military control of the country.
This disaster, which fell upon Bokhara in 1868, was repeated in Khiva in
1873. Bokharan troops aided the Russians, and Bokhara was rewarded with
a generous slice of the conquered territory. Khiva was overthrown as
quickly as the other oases had been, and the whole of Central Asia
became Russian soil. It is true that a shadow of the old government is
maintained, the khans of Bokhara and Khiva still occupying their
thrones. But they are mere puppets to move as the Czar of Russia pulls
the strings. As for Khokand, it has disappeared from the map of Asia,
being replaced by the Russian province of Ferghana.
We have thus in few words told a long and vital story, that of the steps
by which Russia gained its strong foothold in Asia, and extended its
boundaries from the Ural Mountains and Caspian Sea to the Pacific Ocean
and the boundaries of China, Persia, and India, all of which may yet
become part of the vast Russian empire, if what some consider the secret
purpose of Russia be carried out.
Asia has been won by the sword; it is being held by other influences.
Schools have been founded among the Kirghis, and a newspaper is printed
in their language. Their plundering habits have been suppressed,
agriculture is encouraged, and luxuries are being introduced into the
steppes, with the result of changing the ideas and habits of the nomads.
Thriving Cossack colonies have grown up on the plains, and the wandering
barbarians behold with wonder the ways and means of civilization in
their midst.
The same may be said of Turkestan, in which violence has been suppressed
and industry encouraged, while the Russian population, alike of the
steppes and of the oases, is rapidly increasing. A railroad penetrates
the formerly mysterious land, trains roll daily over its soil, carrying
great numbers of Asiatic passengers, and an undreamed-of activity of
commerce has taken the place of the old-time plundering raids of the
half-savage Turkoman horsemen.
The Russian is thoroughly adapted to deal with the Asiatic. Half an
Asiatic himself, in spite of his fair complexion, he knows how to baffle
the arts and overcome the prejudices of his new subjects. The Russian
diplomatist has all the softness and suavity of his Asiatic congeners.
He conforms to their customs and allows them to delay and prevaricate to
their hearts' content. He is an adept in the art of bribery, has
emissaries everywhere, and is much too deeply imbued with this Asiatic
spirit for the bluntness of European methods. "You must beat about the
bush with a Russian," we are told. "You must flatter them and humbug
them. You must talk about everything but _the_ thing. If you want to buy
a horse you must pretend you want to sell a cow, and so work gradually
round to the point in view."