THE HISTORY OF THE WILL
In order to understand why Sofya Andreyevna's attitude to Leo
Nikolaevitch was so exasperated, and what impelled her to treat him
so cruelly, it is essential to have some conception why he found it
necessary about this time to make a will, leaving all his writings
free to the public.
The story of Tolstoy's will is so complicated and full of details
that a separate circumstantial account of it is required. Here I will
only briefly state the most essential facts.
At the beginning of the 'eighties, at the time when the spiritual
regeneration of Leo Nikolaevitch was taking place, though his new
attitude of completely disapproving of property was not yet fully
defined, he made over to his wife an authorisation for the
publication and sale of his collected works, the income from which
was the principal source of the material means by which his family
lived. Later on, when he came to realise that property of every kind
was wrong, he did not, in spite of all his efforts, succeed in
persuading Sofya Andreyevna to renounce this income voluntarily and
to give him back the authorisation he had given her. He did not feel
morally justified in forcibly depriving her of what she clung to so
passionately, and what against the will of Leo Nikolaevitch she
considered had been put at the disposal of the family for ever. This
trading in his works by his wife against his wish was, in his own
words, one of the most agonising sufferings of his life. All his new
works, however, those that had appeared after 1881 and those destined
to appear later, he thereupon freed from the monopoly of his family,
announcing in a letter to the newspapers, that all who wished could
reprint them without any fee. Sofya Andreyevna had, willy-nilly, to
submit to this decision on the part of the author. But every time
when, instead of articles of a religious and social character, which
did not in the literary market command the immense value enjoyed by
his artistic works, Leo Nikolaevitch undertook any work in artistic
form, Sofya Andreyevna was so much excited and so persistently
demanded that the publication of the new work should be handed over
to her for the benefit of the family, that it completely destroyed
the spiritual tranquillity which he needed for concentrated creative
work.
Many times repeated, these family scenes led him to decide to print
no more works of art during his lifetime.[14] And this decision of
his is the real reason why, during the latter period of his life, he
gave so little to humanity in that sphere.
In the end Sofya Andreyevna began quite openly to declare, even in
the presence of Leo Nikolaevitch, that after his death, according to
the advice of lawyers whom she had consulted, his renunciation of all
literary property in the works of the second period would lose its
validity, and that those works also would, like all the rest, become
the property of his family. Besides this she began to insist that
Leo Nikolaevitch should give her a fresh authorisation for the sale
of his writings of the first period for a long time in the future and
also give her the right to prosecute at law anyone who should
infringe the copyright.
In his diary for 1909 Leo Nikolaevitch writes: "Last night I felt
wretched after talking to Sofya Andreyevna about publishing my works
and prosecuting. If she only knew and understood how she alone
poisons the last hours, days, months, of my life! I do not know how
to say it to her and have no hope that anything one could say would
produce the slightest effect upon her."[15]
Becoming convinced that this greed of Sofya Andreyevna on behalf of
the family would only increase with years, and that she really was
capable of taking possession of all his works after his death and of
depriving other publishers of the possibility of printing them, Leo
Nikolaevitch felt himself morally bound to guard against such a
monopolisation of his writings. And he was so firmly convinced that
it was his duty before God and men to do this, that in spite of all
that he had to endure on account of it afterwards, he remained
unshaken upon this point right up to his death, which was brought
about by the spiritual sufferings which were inflicted upon him in
consequence of this.[16]
After carefully thinking over all the circumstances of the case and
taking advice of persons conversant with the subject, Leo
Nikolaevitch came to the conclusion that if he really desired that
his writings should be freely accessible to everyone after his
death, he could not secure his object without making a formal will.
And therefore, with this end in view, he decided to have recourse to
that means. The editorship and first publication of all his
posthumous works he entrusted to me, with the understanding that
everything brought out by me should at once become public property.
And in order to make the fulfilment of this task secure in practice,
he made a formal will in favour of his younger daughter Alexandra
Lvovna, which would make it possible for her to safeguard my task
from any attempts to hinder it. The profit on the first issue of his
works after his death he assigned in the first place for the
redemption of the Yasnaya Polyana estate from the Tolstoy family in
order to hand it over to the peasants, and this was duly carried out
after his death.
Of course the legal form of the will could not but be distasteful to
Leo Nikolaevitch. But this was to some extent counterbalanced in his
eyes by the fact that the object of the will was not prosecution of
anyone in the future, but, on the contrary, the prevention of the
possibility of legal proceedings being taken by persons who might put
in claims to inherit proprietary rights in the works of Leo
Nikolaevitch if there had been no such will.
There was also another disagreeable side to this business for Leo
Nikolaevitch. To avoid in connection with the will any altercations
and dissensions, which would have been undesirable in themselves and
would have made the position of Alexandra Lvovna, as legal heiress of
his manuscripts, utterly impossible in the family, Leo Nikolaevitch
resolved not to tell anyone of his will. Though to keep the fact of
the existence of a will secret is a fairly usual thing to do in such
circumstances, it will be readily understood that it was against the
grain for Leo Nikolaevitch, and he resolved to act in this way solely
because he saw no other alternative.[17]
Sofya Andreyevna's fears that Leo Nikolaevitch might make a will
depriving his family of the copyright of his works were the
underlying cause of her hostile attitude to him. It was on account of
this that she made such efforts, on the one hand to wring out of him
the complete transfer of all rights in his works to her, and on the
other hand by incessant watchfulness over him to eliminate all
possibility of his signing any business document without her
knowledge. And it was for this same reason that she was filled with
such hatred for me personally, assuming, though quite mistakenly,
that the initiative in Leo Nikolaevitch's renunciation of his
copyrights and the arrangements for carrying this out came from me.
Leo Nikolaevitch was so firm in his resolution to leave his writings
for the free use of all, that with his own hand he wrote a will in
accordance with that idea, not once only but several times, owing to
the fact that the legal form of the documents he composed were never
sufficiently correct to secure the required authority for them. The
last time he made his will while Sofya Andreyevna was watching over
him most vigilantly, during a ride on horseback in the thickest part
of the forest, having previously invited three persons of the circle
of friends living with me at Telyatniki near Yasnaya Polyana to meet
him there and witness his signature.
By making this will Leo Nikolaevitch secured that after his death his
writings became accessible to all, and not the property of his
family. This result in itself is of vast social importance, seeing
that it gave the working people--the poorest class of all
countries--access to Tolstoy's works in the cheapest form, since
it was open to any number of publishers to print them, and the
competition between them would bring down the price of the books.
But apart from this purely practical gain for the vast masses of
mankind, the struggle between Leo Nikolaevitch and his wife for the
copyright of his works,--the struggle which cost him his life,--had
also a great significance from the ideal side. It displayed before
the eyes of mankind, present and future, an extremely important truth
in connection with the Christian doctrine of the non-resistance to
evil by force which Tolstoy so vividly set forth and lighted up in
his writings. Leo Nikolaevitch completely sacrificing himself showed
in practice that this principle does not lead, as many suppose, to
helplessly giving in to evil and allowing it to triumph unchecked.
Unyieldingly maintaining his rejection of copyright in the interests
of the working masses of mankind, he confirmed by his example, plain
to the whole world, what the less eminent "non-resistants" are
continually exemplifying in their life. He showed that people of
such a theory of life do not give in to evil, but are continually
struggling against it in the best and truest way, by refusing to
take part in it. He showed also that to yield to the demand of
others from meekness and love for them is only admissible up to the
limit beyond which they try to make one do what is against one's
conscience; and that when people's demands pass beyond those limits,
one ought not to yield to them in any way in spite of any sufferings
oneself or those one loves may have to bear.
No insistence on the part of those nearest him, no sufferings of his
own on account of it, were able to compel him in this case to depart
from what he considered himself bound to do. Is it possible to find
a more convincing proof that Tolstoy recognised it as morally
necessary to resist evil in the most resolute way?--and it was just
in consequence of this resistance to evil that he had to sacrifice
both his peace and his life.
In a letter to me of September 10, 1910, Leo Nikolaevitch writes of
his inner experience in a way which is highly significant. He says:
"Of late, not with my brains but with my sides, as the peasants say,
I have come to a clear understanding of the difference between the
resistance which is returning evil for evil and the resistance of
refusing to yield in the line of conduct which one recognises as
one's duty to one's conscience and God. I will try."
At the same time by his attitude to the very idea of literary
property Tolstoy, by the exceptional sincerity and consistency of his
manner of action, has helped and still more will help his literary
brethren to see clearly in this "delicate" question, to shut their
eyes to which has now become impossible. As time passes a greater and
greater number of writers will undoubtedly be troubled by doubts as
to whether it is not as morally reprehensible to traffic in one's
words, in one's soul, as to traffic in one's body, and Tolstoy's
attitude will serve conscientious writers as a guiding star in
illuminating this question.
One cannot but recognise Tolstoy's conspicuous services in all this.
And though he acted as he did without considering what bearing this
would have on the consciousness of men, merely striving not to
let himself be drawn into an action contrary to his conscience,
nevertheless this first renunciation of literary property on the part
of one of the greatest writers of the world undoubtedly has a vast
significance for humanity.
If in my present brief account of Tolstoy's leaving home I have
had to dwell rather minutely upon the question of his will, it
is because all the threads of the complicated conditions and
circumstances which caused his departure meet about that central
question. It is true that some of those near to Leo Nikolaevitch have
tried to persuade themselves that Sofya Andreyevna's attitude to him,
which made it impossible for him to remain longer with her, was
chiefly provoked by property interests not connected with his will.
They ascribe her conduct to various causes and principally to her
neurotic condition and morbid, abnormal jealousy. Although putting
the matter in such a light is undoubtedly due to affectionate
goodwill to Sofya Andreyevna, I consider it my duty to protest
against such an interpretation most decisively in the interests of
truth, which here as everywhere is more important than anything.
We ought not to hide from ourselves that there are more than a
sufficient quantity of facts going to prove that Sofya Andreyevna in
this case acted first of all, and most of all, under the influence of
feelings and considerations immediately concerned with the material
prosperity of her numerous family, consisting, as she was continually
reminding people, of twenty-eight persons, counting children and
grandchildren. It is essential to keep this circumstance in view in
order to have a correct understanding of the attitude of Leo
Nikolaevitch to his will.
True love for people dead and alive alike is not shown by concealing
their mistakes and failures from oneself and others, but in knowing
how, in spite of all the undesirable qualities which every one of us
has in sufficient quantity, to behave to one another with compassion
and tolerance, recognising that everyone is responsible for all. Then
we shall not try to pass by the weak spots without noticing them, or
to smear over the cracks on the outside, but shall, on the contrary,
display them in order that they may be corrected by the efforts of
all.
The above-mentioned circumstances and motives of the testamentary
dispositions of Leo Nikolaevitch in regard to his writings must be
kept in mind if one is to have a true conception of his position in
the family at the period immediately preceding his "going away." An
acquaintance with those circumstances and impulses makes it possible
to understand the true character of the relations which have been
formed between Leo Nikolaevitch and her with whom he had been
connected for forty-eight long years and out of love and pity for
whom he was ready to sacrifice all but his conscience.
FOOTNOTES
[14] This decision, which Leo Nikolaevitch reached alone
with his conscience, he tried to keep a secret from everyone, and
when, guessing from certain signs how it was, I told him on one
occasion, he was much puzzled to know how I could have discovered his
secret. To explain why this decision not to publish his artistic work
during his lifetime put a stop to Leo Nikolaevitch's work upon them,
it must be pointed out that it was his habit to make the chief
revision of his first rough sketches on the proofs sent him from the
printer's. Besides, if he had merely worked at them in manuscript he
would have been subjected to the same persistent persecution which so
distracted his peace and his concentration upon his work. (Sofya
Andreyevna told me that she had actually exacted a promise from him
not to give anyone but herself his manuscripts to copy.)
[15] D. P. Makovitsky in his diary says the same thing: "In
1909 before the Stockholm Peace Congress, Sofya Andreyevna wanted to
prosecute I. I. Gorbunov for publishing _The Prisoner in the
Caucasus_, and sent Torba (a Court official, her helper in publishing
Tolstoy's works) to see a lawyer. The lawyer asked what authority
Sofya Andreyevna had for instituting proceedings. 'She has a deed of
trust for transacting all Leo Nikolaevitch's affairs.' 'This is not
enough, she must have a deed transferring the copyright to her.'
Sofya Andreyevna asked Leo Nikolaevitch for it, but he refused point
blank. Then Sofya Andreyevna had recourse to hysterics and did not
let Leo Nikolaevitch go to Stockholm. In the summer of that year
she started playing very cleverly the same game (this time against
Tchertkoff), pretending to be ill in order to force Leo Nikolaevitch
to give her the copyright. It was not Sofya Andreyevna who said the
other thing, but Misha and Andryusha. They blurted out about the
will."--(Sept. 14, 1910, Kotchety.)
[16] A clear light is thrown upon what Leo Nikolaevitch had
to endure in this connection by a letter which a relation of his, the
lawyer I. V. Denisenko, wrote for my benefit when I was exiled from
the province of Tula in 1909, and being unable to be at Yasnaya
Polyana, did not know what was taking place there. I append a few
abstracts from the letter to complete the picture:
"In the July of 1909, when I was at Yasnaya Polyana, Leo Nikolaevitch
Tolstoy was intending to go to the Peace Congress at Stockholm, and
Sofya Andreyevna was opposed to this. This provoked a regular series
of misunderstandings and Sofya Andreyevna fell ill, not wishing Leo
Nikolaevitch to go to the Congress.
"It happened once that she called me into her bedroom, and showing me
a general authorisation for the management of their affairs given her
long ago by Leo Nikolaevitch, asked me whether she could upon this
authorisation sell to a third person the right of publishing his
work, and, what was still more important, institute proceedings
against Sergeyenko and some teacher in a military school for making
books of extracts and anthologies from the works of Leo Nikolaevitch
on the ground that these books of extracts would cause her, Sofya
Andreyevna, considerable material damage....
"I believe it was on the day after that that I was in the park
picking berries with my wife and children. My wife asked me to
go for something to the lodge. I went along an avenue, passing
between flower-beds, and there quite unexpectedly I came upon Leo
Nikolaevitch. I was struck by his appearance. He was bowed and he
looked worried and exhausted. His eyes were dim and he seemed weak as
I had never seen him before. He caught hurriedly at my arm on meeting
me, and said with tears in his eyes: 'Ivan Vassilyevitch, darling,
what is she doing to me? What is she doing to me? She is insisting on
having an authorisation for instituting proceedings. You know I can't
do that.... It would be against my principles.'
"Then walking a few steps with me he said: 'I have a great favour to
ask of you, only let it be a secret between us. For the time don't
speak of it to anyone, not even to Sasha. Please make up a deed for
me by which I could announce publicly that I give all my works at
whatever date they may have been written freely for the benefit of
all.'"
[17] There was even a moment when these two undesirable
conditions associated with the will, _i.e._ its legal form and the
secrecy accompanying it, caused Leo Nikolaevitch to feel doubts as
to the rectitude of his action. These doubts were aroused by a
conversation with one of his intimate friends, who came in from
outside and knew little of the circumstances of this complicated
affair. Leo Nikolaevitch, who was distinguished by an extreme degree
of touching sensitiveness to every criticism of his behaviour,
agreed with his friend that he had acted, as the latter asserted,
"inconsistently," and he told me of it, declaring, however, that he
should nevertheless not change the dispositions he had made. On my
side I was compelled to reply that in that case of course I should
refuse to be his future executor for carrying out his testamentary
dispositions, since only a conviction that I was accomplishing his
definite and conscious desire could give me the necessary moral
support for the performance of this difficult and responsible duty.
At the same time, in accordance with his request, I reminded him of
the circumstances and considerations which had induced him to have
recourse to a will. In answer I received from him the following
letter:
"I write this on little scraps of paper because I am in the woods out
for a walk. Ever since yesterday evening I have been thinking about
your yesterday's letter. The two chief feelings which it aroused in
me were repulsion for the manifestations of coarse greed and
heartlessness which I either did not see or have seen and forgotten,
and distress and repentance that I should have hurt you by the letter
in which I expressed regret for what I had done. The deduction I have
made from the letter is that N. N. was wrong, and also that I was
wrong in agreeing with him, and that I fully approve your conduct,
but all the same am not satisfied with my own: I feel that it was
possible to act better, but I don't know how. Now I do not regret
what I have done, _i.e._ that I have made the will I did make, and I
can only be thankful to you for the interest you have taken in the
matter.
"I shall tell Tanya about it to-day, and that will be very pleasant
to me.
"Leo Tolstoy.
"_Aug. 12, 1910._"
In his private pocket diary on Aug. 11, 1910, Leo Nikolaevitch wrote
as follows:
"A long letter from Tchertkoff describing all that has gone before.
Very sad. Painful to read and recall. He is perfectly right, and I
feel to blame in regard to him. N. N. was wrong. I will write to both
of them."
Certain persons who, for one reason or another, do not sympathise
with the testamentary dispositions of Leo Nikolaevitch, and
especially those of them who took a personal share in the upsetting
of them, continue to this day to assert that Leo Nikolaevitch saw in
the end that he had made a mistake and regretted that he had made a
will.
In confirmation of this they quote a few words written by Leo
Nikolaevitch in his pocket diary at the time of his doubts; but they
are carefully silent with regard to the later note in the same diary
which I have just quoted.
In reality, of course, this incident of Leo Nikolaevitch's hesitation
can only serve to prove how consciously from every point of view he
weighed and considered all the circumstances of the case. If no
doubts had ever assailed him it would have been possible to admit the
supposition that it had never occurred to him to look at the question
from the other side, and that therefore his attitude to it was
one-sided. But now we know that he not only took a critical attitude
as to his action, but that at one time he even doubted if it were
right. If, even after such hesitation, he yet definitely confirmed
his desire that the will should remain in force, what can be a better
proof that this his final decision expresses his real and fully
conscious will?--Cf. _Diary_, Vol. I. ed. 1916; Appendix, p. 260,
"The Will," July 22, 1910.