Russia

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

RIVERSIDE

IP-

Hi

RUSSIA

RUSSIA

BY

Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace

K.G.I.E., K.C.V.O.

REVISED AND ENLARGED EDITION

WITH MAPS

CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED

London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne

1912

1 A, f

ALL Rir.IITS RF.SF.UVED

PREFACE

The first edition of this work, published early in January,
1877, contained the concentrated results of my studies during
an uninterrupted residence of six years in Russia — from the
beginning of 1870 to the end of 1875. Since that time I have
spent in the European and Central-Asian provinces, at
different periods, two or three years more; and in the in-
tervals I have endeavoured to keep in touch with the progress
of events. My observations thus extend over a period of
forty years.

When I began, in 1905, to prepare for publication the
results of my more recent observations and researches, my
intention was to write an entirely new work under the title
of "Russia in the Twentieth Century "; but I soon perceived
that it would be impossible to explain clearly the actual
state of things without referring constantly to events
of the past, and that I should be obliged to embody
in the new work a large portion of the old one, which had
been long out of print. The portion to be embodied grew
rapidly to such proportions that, in the course of a few
weeks, I began to ask myself whether it would not be better
simply to recast and complete my old material. With a
view to deciding the question, I prepared a list of the prin-
cipal changes which had taken place during the previous
quarter of a century, and when I had marshalled them in
logical order, I recognised that they were neither so
numerous nor so important as I had supposed. Certainly

vi PREFACE

there had been much progress, but it had been nearly all
on the old lines. Everywhere I perceived continuity and
evolution ; nowhere could I discover radical changes and
new departures. In the central and local administration the
reactionary policy of the latter half of Alexander II. 's reign
had been steadily maintained; the revolutionary movement
had waxed and waned, but its aims were essentially the
same as of old ; the Church had remained in its usual som-
nolent condition ; a grave agricultural crisis affecting landed
proprietors and peasants had begun, but it was merely a
development of a state of things which I had previously
described ; the manufacturing industry had made gigantic
strides, but they were all in the direction which the most
competent observers had predicted; in foreign policy the
old principles of guiding the natural expansive forces along
the lines of least resistance, seeking to reach warm-water
ports, and pegging out territorial claims for the future, were
persistently followed. No doubt there were pretty clear
indications of more radical changes to come, but these
changes must belong to the future, and it is merely with
the past and the present that a writer who has no pretensions
to being a prophet has to deal.

Under these circumstances it seemed to me advisable to
adopt a middle course. Instead of writing an entirely new
work, I determined to prepare a much extended and amplified
edition of the old one, retaining such information about the
past as seemed to me of permanent value, and at the same
time meeting as far as possible the requirements of those
who wish to know the present condition of the country.

In accordance with this view I revised, rearranged, and
supplemented the old material in the light of subsequent
events, and I added five entirely new chapters — three on

PREFACE vii

the revolutionary movement, which has come into promi-
nence since 1877 ; one on the industrial progress, with which
the more recent phase of the revolutionary movement was
closely connected; and one on the main lines of the present
situation as it appeared to me at the moment of going to
press.

In the present edition I have carefully revised the whole
on the lines laid down in 1905, and brought it up to date,
paying special attention to the rise and development of
parliamentary institutions which must exercise a great in-
fluence on the future destinies of the country.

London, September, 1912.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

1. Travelling in Russia i

2. In the Northern Forests ..... 7

3. Voluntary Exile ....... 37

4. The Village Priest 51

5. A Medical Consultation ...... 72

6. A Peasant Family of the Old Type ... 88

7. The Peasantry of the North . . . . .101

8. The Mir, or Village Community .... 120

9. How the Commune has been Preserved, and What

IT is to Effect in the Future . . . 142

10. Finnish and Tartar Villages ..... 152

11, Lord Novgorod the Great ..... 169
'^ 12. The Towns and the Mercantile Classes . . 182

13. The Pastoral Tribes of the Steppe . . . 202

14. The Mongol or Tartar Domination . . . 223
^5. The Cossacks 233

16. Foreign Colonists on the Steppe .... 246

17. Among the Heretics ...... 258

18. The Dissenters 273

19. Church and State 293

20. The Noblesse ........ 305

21. Landed Proprietors of the Old School . . 323

22. Proprietors of the Modern School . . . 345

23. Social Classes 365

24. The Imperial Administration and the Officials . 370

25. Moscow and the Slavophils 394

26. St. Petersburg and European Influence . . 417

27. The Crimean War and its Consequences . . 437
y 28. The Serfs 462

X CONTENTS

CHAPTER

29. The Emancipation of the Serfs

30. The Landed Proprietors Since the Emancipation

31. The Emancipated Peasantry ....

32. The Zemstvo and Local Self-Government

33. The Reform of the Law Courts

34. Revolutionary Nihilism and the Reaction

35. Socialist Propaganda, Revolutionary Agitation, an

Terrorism .......

36. Industrial Progress and the Proletariat

37. A New Phase of the Revolutionary Movement

38. The Japanese War and its Consequences

39; The Imperial Duma ......

40. Territorial Expansion and Foreign Policy .
Index

489

515

528

558
580
605

625

655
672

689
726

743
771

RUSSIA

CHAPTER I

TRAVELLING IN RUSSIA

Of course, travelling in Russia is no longer what it was.
During the last half-century a vast network of railways has
been constructed, and one can now travel in a comfortable
first-class carriage from Berlin to St. Petersburg or Moscow,
and thence to Odessa, Sebastopol, the Lower Volga, the
Caucasus, Central Asia, Eastern Siberia, Vladivostock, or
Port Arthur. Two or three times a week there are direct
trains from St. Petersburg or Moscow to Vladivostock, and
Port Arthur and Pekin have thereby been brought within
about ten days of London. And it must be admitted that on
the main lines the passengers have not much to complain
of. The carriages are decidedly better than in England,
and in winter they are kept warm by small iron stoves,
assisted by double windows and double doors — a very neces-
sary precaution in a land where the thermometer often
descends to 30° below zero. The trains never attain, it is
true, a high rate of speed — so at least English and Americans
think — ^but then we must remember that Russians are rarely
in a hurry, and like to have frequent opportunities of eating
and drinking. In Russia time it not money ; if it were,
nearly all the subjects of the Tsar would always have a large
stock of ready money on hand, and would often have great
difficulty in spending it. In reality, be it parenthetically
remarked, a Russian with a superabundance of ready money
is a phenomenon rarely met with in real life.

In conveying passengers at the rate of from fifteen to
forty miles an hour, the railway companies do at least all
that they promise; but in one very important respect they
do not always strictly fulfil their engagements. The traveller
takes a ticket for a certain town, and on arriving at what

B

2 RUSSIA

he imagines to be his destination, he may find merely a
railway station surrounded by fields. On making inquiries,
he may discover, to his disappointment, that the station is
by no means identical with the town bearing the same name,
and that the railway has fallen several miles short of fulfil-
ling the bargain, as he understood the terms of the contract.
Indeed, it might almost be said that as a general rule rail-
ways in Russia, like camel drivers in certain Eastern
countries, studiously avoid the towns. This seems at first
a strange fact. We can readily understand that, as travellers
in Arabia tell us, towns are shunned by the wild Bedouin,
enamoured of tent life and nomadic habits, and afraid of
falling a prey to extortionate officials; but surely civil
engineers and railway contractors in Russia have no such
dread of brick and mortar. The true reason, I suspect, is
that land within or immediately beyond the municipal barrier
is relatively dear, and that the railways, being completely
beyond the invigorating influence of healthy competition,
can afford to look upon the comfort and convenience of
passengers as a secondary consideration. Gradually, it is
true, this state of things is being improved by private
initiative. As the railways refuse to come to the towns,
the towns are extending towards the railways, and already
some prophets are found bold enough to predict that in the
course of time those long, new, straggling streets, without
an inhabited hinterland, which at present try so severely the
springs of the rickety droshkis, will be properly paved and
kept in decent repair. For my own part, I confess I am a
little sceptical with regard to this prediction, and I can only
use a favourite expression of the Russian peasants — ddi
Bog! God grant it may be so !

It is but fair to state that in one celebrated instance
neither engineers nor railway contractors were directly to
blame. From St. Petersburg to Moscow the locomotive runs
for a distance of 400 miles, almost as "the crow " is supposed
to fly, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left. For
twelve weary hours the passenger in the express train looks
out on forest and morass, and rarely catches sight of human
habitation. Only once he perceives in the distance what
may be called a town ; it is Tver which has been thus

RAILWAY DEVELOPMENT 3

favoured, not because it is a place of importance, but simply
because it happened to be near the bee-line. And why was
the railway constructed in this extraordinary fashion ? For
the best of all reasons — because the Tsar so ordered it.
When the preliminary survey was being made, Nicholas L
learned that the officers entrusted with the task — and the
Minister of Ways and Roads in the number — were being
influenced more by personal than technical considerations,
and he determined to cut the Gordian knot in true Imperial
style. When the Minister laid before him the map with
the intention of explaining the proposed route, he took a
ruler, drew a straight line from the one terminus to the
other, and remarked in a tone that precluded all discussion,
"You will construct the line so!" And the line was so
constructed — remaining to all future ages, like St. Peters-
burg and the Pyramids, a magnificent monument of auto-
cratic power.

Formerly this well-known incident was often cited in
whispered philippics to illustrate the evils of the autocratic
form of government. Imperial whims, it was said, over-
ride grave economic considerations. In recent years, how-
ever, a change seems to have taken place in public opinion,
and some people now assert that this so-called Imperial
whim was an act of far-seeing policy. As by far the greater
part of the goods and passengers are carried the whole length
of the line, it is well that the line should be as short as
possible, and that branch lines should be constructed to the
towns lying to the right and left. Evidently there is a good
deal to be said in favour of this view.

In the development of the railway system there has been
another disturbing cause, which is not likely to occur to the
English mind. In England, individuals and companies
habitually act according to their private interests, and the
State interferes as little as possible; private initiative does
as it pleases, unless the authorities can prove that important
bad consequences will necessarily result. In Russia, the
onus probandi lies on the other side; private initiative is
allowed to do nothing until it gives guarantees against all
possible bad consequences. When any great enterprise is
projected, the first question is — "How will this new scheme

4 RUSSIA

aflfect the interests of the State ? " Thus, when the course
of a new railway has to be determined, the military authori-
ties are among the first to be consulted, and their opinion
has a great influence on the ultimate decision. The natural
consequence is that the railway map of Russia presents to
the eye of the strategist much that is quite unintelligible
to the ordinary observer — a fact that will become apparent
even to the uninitiated as soon as a war breaks out in Eastern
Europe. Russia is no longer what she was in the days of
the Crimean campaign, when troops and stores had to be
conveyed many hundreds of miles by the most primitive
means of transport. At that time she had only 750 miles
of railway; now she has more than 43,000 miles open, and
new lines are being constructed.

The water communication has likewise in recent years
been greatly improved. On the principal rivers there are
now very good steamers. Unfortunately, the climate puts
serious obstructions in the way of navigation. For nearly
half of the year the rivers are covered with ice, and during
a great part of the open season navigation is difficult. When
the ice and snow melt, the rivers overflow their banks and
lay a great part of the low-lying country under water, so
that many villages can only be approached in boats; but very
soon the flood subsides, and the water falls so rapidly that
by midsummer the larger steamers have great difficulty in
picking their way among the sandbanks. The Neva alone —
that queen of northern rivers — has at all times a plentiful
supply of water.

Besides the Neva, the river visited most frequently by
the tourist is the Volga, which forms part of what may be
called the Russian grand tour. Englishmen who wish to
see something more than St. Petersburg and Moscow gener-
ally go by rail from the ancient capital to Nizhni-Novgorod,
where they visit the great fair, and then get on board one
of the Volga steamers. For those who have mastered the
important fact that Russia is not a country of fine scenery,
the voyage down the river is pleasant enough. The left
bank is as flat as the banks of the Rhine below Cologne,
but the right bank is high, occasionally well wooded, and
not devoid of a certain tame picturesqueness. Early on the

ALONG THE VOLGA 5

second day the steamer reaches Kazan, once the capital of
an independent Tartar ichanate, and still containing a
considerable Tartar population. Several metchets (as the
Mahometan houses of prayer are here termed) with their
diminutive minarets in the lower part of the town show that
Islamism still survives, though the khanate was annexed to
Muscovy more than three centuries and a half ago; but the
town, as a whole, has a European rather than an Asiatic
character. If any one visits it in the hope of getting "a
glimpse of the East," he will be grievously disappointed,
unless, indeed, he happen to be one of those imaginative
tourists who always discover what they wish to see. And
yet it must be admitted that, of all the towns on the route,
Kazan is the most interesting. Though not Oriental, it has
a peculiar character of its own, whilst all the others — Simbirsk,
Samara, Saratov — are as uninteresting as Russian provincial
towns commonly are. The full force and solemnity of that
expression will be explained in the sequel.

Probably about sunrise on the third day something like
a range of mountains will appear on the horizon. It may
be well to say at once, to prevent disappointment, that in
reality nothing worthy of the name of mountain is to be
found in that part of the country. The nearest mountain
range in that direction is the Caucasus, which is hundreds
of miles distant, and consequently cannot by any possibility
be seen from the deck of a steamer. The elevations in
question are simply a low range of hills, called the Zhigulin-
skiya Gori. In Western Europe they would not attract
much attention, but "in the kingdom of the blind," as the
French proverb has it, "the one-eyed man is king"; and
in a flat region like Eastern Russia these hills form a
prominent feature. Though they have nothing of Alpine
grandeur, yet their well-wooded slopes, coming down to the
water's edge — especially when covered with the delicate
tints of early spring, or the rich yellow and red of autumnal
foliage — leave an impression on the memory not easily
effaced.

On the whole — with all due deference to the opinions of
my patriotic Russian friends — I must say that Volga scenery
hardly repays the time, trouble ond expense which a voyage

6 RUSSIA

from Nizhni to Tsaritsin demands. There are some pretty
bits here and there, but they are "few and far between."
A glass of the most exquisite wine diluted with a gallon
of water makes a very insipid beverage. The deck of the
steamer is generally much more interesting than the banks
of the river. There one meets with curious travelling com-
panions. The majority of the passengers are probably
Russian peasants, who are always ready to chat freely
without demanding a formal introduction, and to relate —
with certain restrictions — to a new acquaintance the simple
story of their lives. Often I have thus whiled away, when
travelling up and down this great river, the weary hours
both pleasantly and profitably, and have always been im-
pressed with the peasant's homely common sense, good-
natured kindliness, half-fatalistic resignation, and strong
desire to learn something about foreign countries. This last
peculiarity makes him question as well as communicate, and
his questions, though sometimes apparently childish, are
generally to the point.

Among the passengers are probably also some repre-
sentatives of the various Finnish tribes inhabiting this part
of the country; they may be interesting to the ethnologist
who loves to study physiognomy, but they are far less
sociable than the Russians. Nature seems to have made
them silent and morose, whilst their conditions of life have
made them shy and distrustful. The Tartar, on the other
hand, is almost sure to be a lively and amusing companion.
Most probably he is a pedlar or small trader of some kind.
The bundle on which he reclines contains his stock-in-trade,
composed, perhaps, of cotton printed goods and especially
bright-coloured cotton handkerchiefs. He himself is en-
veloped in a capacious greasy khaldt, or dressing-gown, and
wears a fur cap, though the thermometer may be at 90° in
the shade. The roguish twinkle in his small piercing eyes
contrasts strongly with the sombre, stolid expression of the
Finnish peasants sitting near him. He has much to relate
about St. Petersburg, Moscow, and perhaps Astrakhan ; but,
like a genuine trader, he is very reticent regarding the
mysteries of his own craft. Towards sunset he retires with
his companions to some quiet spot on the deck to recite the

AN UNCOMFORTABLE JOURNEY 7

evening prayers. Here all the good Mahometans on board
assemble and stroke their beards, kneel on their little strips
of carpet and prostrate themselves, all keeping time as if
they were performing some new kind of drill under the eye
of a severe drill-sergeant.

If the voyage is made about the end of September, when
the traders are returning home from the fair at Nizhni-
Novgorod, the ethnologist will have a still better opportunity
of study. He will then find not only representatives of the
Finnish and Tartar races, but also Armenians, Circassians,
Persians, Bokhariots, and other Orientals — a motley and
picturesque but decidedly unsavoury cargo.

However great the ethnographical variety on board may
be, the traveller will probably find that four days on the
Volga are quite enough for all practical and aesthetic pur-
poses. In that case, instead of going on to Astrakhan, he
will quit the steamer at Tsaritsin. Here he will find a rail-
way connecting the Volga and the Don. I say advisedly
a railway, and not a train, because trains on this line are
not very frequent. When I first visited the locality, forty
years ago, there were only two a week, so that if you in-
advertently missed one train you had to wait at least three
days for the next. Prudent, nervous people preferred travel-
ling by the road, for on the railway the strange jolts and
mysterious creakings were very alarming. On the other
hand, the pace was so slow that running off the rails w^ould
have been merely an amusing episode, and even a collision
could scarcely have been attended with serious consequences.
Happily, things are improving, even in this outlying part
of the country; trains are now more frequent and go at a
less funereal pace.

From Kalatch, on the Don, a steamer starts for Rostoff,
which is situated near the mouth of the river. The naviga-
tion of the Don is much more difficult than that of the
Volga. The river is extremely shallow, and the sandbanks
are continually shifting, so that many times in the course
of the day the steamer runs aground. Sometimes she is
got off by simply reversing the engines, but not unfrequently
she sticks so fast that the engines have to be assisted. In
the old times above referred to this was effected in a curious

8 RUSSIA

way. The captain always gave a number of stalwart
Cossacks a free passage on condition that they should give
him the assistance he required; and as soon as the ship
stuck fast, he ordered them to jump overboard with a stout
hawser and haul her off ! The task was not a pleasant one,
especially as the poor fellows could not afterwards change
their clothes; but the order was always obeyed with alacrity
and without grumbling. Cossacks, it would seem, have no
personal acquaintance with colds and rheumatism.

In the most approved manuals of geography the Don
figures as one of the principal European rivers, and its
length and breadth give it a right to be considered as such ;
but its depth in many parts is ludicrously out of proportion
to its length and breadth. I remember one day seeing the
captain of a large, flat-bottomed steamer slacken speed, to
avoid running down a man on horseback who was attempt-
ing to cross his bows in the middle of the stream. Another
day a not less characteristic incident happened. A Cossack
passenger wished to be set down at a place where there was
no pier, and on being informed that there was no means of
landing him, coolly jumped overboard and walked ashore.
This simple method of disembarking cannot, of course, be
recommended to those who have no local knowledge regard-
ing the exact position of sandbanks and deep pools.

Good serviceable fellows are those Cossacks who drag
the steamer off the sandbanks, and they are often entertain-
ing companions. Many of them can relate from their own
experience, in plain, unvarnished style, stirring episodes of
irregular warfare, and if they happen to be in a communi-
cative mood they may divulge a few secrets regarding their
simple, primitive commissariat system. Whether they are
confidential or not, the traveller who knows the language
will spend his time more profitably and pleasantly in chatting
with them than in gazing listlessly at the uninteresting
country through which he is passing.

Unfortunately, these Don steamers carry a large number
of free passengers of another and more objectionable kind,
who do not confine themselves to the deck, but uncere-
moniously find their way into the cabin and prevent thin-
skinned travellers from sleeping. I know too little of natural

ADVENTURES ON THE DON 9

history to decide whether these agile, bloodthirsty parasites
are of the same species as those which in England assist
unofficially the Sanitary Commissioners by punishing un-
cleanliness; but I may say that their function in the system
of created things is essentially the same, and they fulfil it
with a zeal and energy beyond all praise. Possessing for
my own part a happy immunity from their indelicate
attentions, and being perfectly innocent of entomological
curiosity, I might, had I been alone, have overlooked their
existence, but I was constantly reminded of their presence
by less happily constituted mortals, and the complaints of
the sufferers received a curious official confirmation. On
arriving at the end of the journey, I asked permission to
spend the night on board, and I noticed that the captain
acceded to my request with more readiness and warmth than
I expected. Next morning the fact was fully explained.
When I began to express my thanks for having been allowed
to pass the night in a comfortable cabin, my host inter-
rupted me with a good-natured laugh, and assured me that,
on the contrary, he was under obligations to me. "You
see," he said, assuming an air of mock gravity, "I have
always on board a large body of light cavalry, and when
I have all this part of the ship to myself they make a com-
bined attack on me ; whereas, when someone is sleeping
close by, they divide their forces ! "

On certain steamers on the Sea of Azov the privacy of
the sleeping cabin is disturbed by still more objectionable
intruders : I mean rats. During a voyage which I made on
board the Kertch, these disagreeable visitors became so
importunate in the lower regions of the vessel that the ladies
obtained permission to sleep in the deck saloon. After this
arrangement had been made, we unfortunate male passengers
received redoubled attention from our tormentors. Awakened
early one morning by the sensation of something running
over me as I lay in my berth, I conceived a method of
retaliation. It seemed to me possible that, in the event
of another visit, I might, by seizing the proper moment,
kick the rat up to the ceiling with such force as to produce
concussion of the brain and instant death. Very soon I
had an opportunity of putting my plan into execution. A

B*

10 RUSSIA

significant shaking of the little curtain at the foot of the
berth showed that it was being used as a scaling ladder.
I lay perfectly still, quite as much interested in the sport
as if I had been waiting, rifle in hand, for big game. Soon
the intruder peeped into my berth, looked cautiously around
him, and then proceeded to walk stealthily across my feet.
In an instant he was shot upwards. First was heard a sharp
knock on the ceiling, and then a dull "thud" on the floor.
The precise extent of the injuries inflicted I never discovered,
for the victim had sufficient strength and presence of mind
to effect his escape; and the gentleman at the other side of
the cabin, who had been roused by the noise, protested
against my repeating the experiment, on the ground that,
though he was willing to take his own share of the intruders,
he strongly objected to having other people's rats kicked
into his berth.

On such occasions it is of no use to complain to the
authorities. When I met the captain on deck I related to
him what had happened, and protested vigorously against
passengers being exposed to such annoyances. After listen-
ing to me patiently, he coolly replied, entirely overlooking
my protestations, "Ah ! I did better than that this morning;
I allowed my rat to get under the blanket, and then
smothered him ! "

Railways and steamboats, even when their arrangements
leave much to be desired, invariably effect a salutary revolu-
tion in hotel accommodation; but this revolution is of
necessity gradual. Foreign hotel keepers must immigrate
and give the example; suitable houses must be built;
servants must be properly trained; and, above all, the native
travellers must learn the usages of civilised society. In
Russia this revolution is in progress, but still far from being
complete. The cities where foreigners most do congregate
— St. Petersburg, Moscow, Odessa — already possess hotels
that will bear comparison with those of Western Europe,
and some of the more important provincial towns can offer
very respectable accommodation ; but there is still much to
be done before the West-European can travel with comfort
even on the principal routes. Cleanliness, the first and most
essential element of comfort, as we understand the term, is

RUSSIAN HOTELS h

still a rare commodity, and often cannot be procured at
any price.

Even in good hotels, when they are of the genuine
Russian type, there are certain things which, though
not in themselves objectionable, strike a foreigner as
peculiar. Thus, when you alight at such an hotel, you are
expected to examine a considerable number of rooms, and
to inquire about the respective prices. When you have fixed
upon a suitable apartment, you will do well, if you wish
to practise economy, to propose to the landlord considerably
less than he demands; and you will generally find, if you
have a talent for bargaining, that the rooms may be hired
for somewhat less than the sum first stated. You must be
careful, however, to leave no possibility of doubt as to the
terms of the contract. Perhaps you assume that, as in taking
a cab a horse is always supplied without special stipulation,
so in hiring a bedroom the bargain includes a bed and the
necessary appurtenances. Such an assumption will not
always be justified. The landlord may perhaps give you a
bedstead without extra charge, but if he be uncorrupted by
foreign notions, he will certainly not spontaneously supply
you with bed-linen, pillows, blankets, and towels. On the
contrary, he will assume that you carry all these articles with
you, and if you do not, you must pay for them.

This ancient custom has produced among Russians of
the old school a kind of fastidiousness to which we are
strangers. They strongly dislike using sheets, blankets, and
towels which are in a certain sense public property, just as
we should strongly object to putting on clothes which had
been already worn by other people. And the feeling may
be developed in people not Russian by birth. For my own
part, I confess to having been conscious of a certain dis-
agreeable feeling on returning in this respect to the usages
of so-called civilised Europe.

The inconvenience of carrying about the essential articles
of bedroom furniture is by no means so great as might be
supposed. Bedrooms in Russia are always heated during
cold weather, so that one light blanket, which may be used
also as a railway rug, is quite sufficient ; whilst sheets,
pillow-cases, and towels take up little space in a portmanteau.

12 RUSSIA

The most cumbrous object is the pillow, for air-cushions,
having a disagreeable odour, are not well suited for the
purpose. But Russians are accustomed to this encumbrance.
In former days — as at the present time in those parts of
the country where there are neither railways nor mac-
adamised roads — people travelled in carts or carriages with-
out springs, and in these instruments of torture a huge pile
of cushions or pillows is necessary to avoid contusions and
dislocations. On the railways, the jolts and shaking are
not deadly enough to require such an antidote; but, even in
unconservative Russia, customs outlive the conditions that
created them ; and at every railway station you may see men
and women carrying about their pillows with them as we
carry wraps. A genuine Russian merchant who loves
comfort and respects tradition may travel without a port-
manteau, but he considers his pillow as an indispensable
article de voyage.

To return to the old-fashioned hotel. When you have
completed the negotiations with the landlord, you will notice
that, unless you have a servant with you, the waiter prepares
to perform the duties of valet de chamhre. Do not be
surprised at his officiousness, which seems founded on the
assumption that you are three-fourths paralysed. Formerly,
every well-born Russian had a valet always in attendance^
and never dreamed of doing for himself anything which
could by any possibility be done for him. You notice that
there is no bell in the room, and no mechanical means of
communicating with the world below stairs. That is because
the attendant is supposed to be always within call, and it is
so much easier to shout than to get up and ring the bell.

In the good old times all this was quite natural. The
well-born Russian had commonly a superabundance of
domestic serfs, and there was no reason why one or two of
them should not accompany their master when his Honour
undertook a journey. An additional person in the tarantass
did not increase the expense, and considerably diminished
the unavoidable little inconveniences of travel. But times
have changed. In 1861 the domestic serfs were emancipated
by Imperial ukaz. Free servants demand w^ages ; and on
railways or steamers a single ticket does not include an

SOME ANCIENT CUSTOMS i3

attendant. The present generation must therefore get
through life with a more modest supply of valets, and must
learn to do with its own hands much that used to be per-
formed by serf labour. Still, a gentleman brought up in
the old conditions cannot be expected to dress himself with-
out assistance, and accordingly the waiter remains in your
room to act as valet. Perhaps, too, in the early morning
you may learn in an unpleasant way that other parts of the
old system are not yet extinct. You may hear, for instance,
resounding along the corridors such an order as — " Petrusha !
Petrusha ! ! Stakan vod>^ ! ! ! " (" Little Peter, little Peter, a
glass of water ! ") shouted in a stentorian voice that would
startle the Seven Sleepers.

When the toilet operations are completed, and you order
tea — one always orders tea in Russia — you will be asked
whether you have your own tea and sugar with you. If
you are an experienced traveller you will be able to reply
in the affirmative, for good tea can be bought only in certain
well-known shops, and is rarely to be found in hotels. A
huge, steaming tea-urn, called a samovar — etymologically,
a "self-boiler " — will be brought in, and you wall make your
tea according to your taste. The tumbler, you know of
course, is to be used as a cup, and when using it you must
be careful not to cauterise the points of your fingers. If
you should happen to have anything eatable or drinkable
in your travelling basket, you need not hesitate to take it
out at once, for the waiter will not feel at all aggrieved or
astonished at your doing nothing "for the good of the
house." The twenty or twenty-five kopeks that you pay
for the samovar — tea-pot, tumbler, saucer, spoon, and slop-
basin being included under the generic term pribor — frees
you from all corkage and similar dues.

These and other remnants of old customs are now rapidly
disappearing, and will, doubtless, in a very few years be
things of the past — things to be picked up in out-of-the-way
corners, and chronicled by social archaeology ; but they
are still to be found in towns not unknown to Western
Europe.

Many of these old customs, and especially the old method
of travelling, may be studied in their pristine purity through-

14 RUSSIA

out a great part of the country. Though railway construction
has been pushed forward with great energy during the last
fifty years, there are still vast regions where the ancient
solitudes have never been disturbed by the shrill whistle of
the locomotive, and roads have remained in their primitive
condition. Even in the central provinces one may still travel
hundreds of miles without ever encountering anything that
recalls the name of Macadam.

If popular rumour is to be trusted, there is somewhere
in the Highlands of Scotland, by the side of a turnpike, a
large stone bearing the following doggerel inscription : —

" If you had seen this road before it was made,
You'd lift up your hands and bless General Wade."

Any educated Englishman reading this strange announce-
ment would naturally remark that the first line of the couplet
contains a logical contradiction, probably of Hibernian
origin ; but I have often thought, during my wanderings
in Russia, that the expression, if not logically justifiable,
might for the sake of vulgar convenience be legalised by a
Permissive Bill. The truth is that, as a Frenchman might
say, "there are roads and roads" — roads made and roads
unmade, roads artificial and roads natural. Now, in Russia,
roads are nearly all of the unmade, natural kind, and are
so conservative in their nature that they have at the present
day precisely the same appearance that they had many
centuries ago. They have thus for imaginative minds some-
thing of what is called "the charm of historical association."
The only perceptible change that takes place in them during
a series of generations is that the ruts shift their position.
When these become so deep that fore-wheels can no longer
fathom them, it becomes necessary to begin making a new
pair of ruts to the right or left of the old ones ; and as the
roads are commonly of gigantic breadth, there is no diflficulty
in finding a place for the operation. How the old ruts get
filled up I cannot explain ; but as I have rarely seen in any
part of the country, except perhaps in the immediate vicinity
of towns, a human being engaged in road repairing, I
assume that beneficent Nature somehow accomplishes the
task without human assistance, either by means of alluvial

RUSSIAN BRIDGES 15

deposits, or by some other cosmical action known only to
physical geographers.

On the roads one occasionally encounters bridges; and
here, again, I have discovered in Russia a key to the
mysteries of Hibernian phraseology. An Irish member
once declared to the House of Commons that the Church
was "the bridge that separated the two great sections of the
Irish people." As bridges commonly connect rather than
separate, the metaphor was received with roars of laughter.
If the honourable members who joined in the hilarious
applause had travelled much in Russia, they would have
been more moderate in their merriment; for in that country,
despite the laudable activity of the modern system of local
administration created in the 'sixties, bridges often act still
as a barrier rather than a connecting link, and to cross a
river by a bridge may still be w^hat is termed in popular
phrase "a tempting of Providence." The cautious driver
will generally prefer to take to the water, if there is a ford
within a reasonable distance, though both he and his human
load may be obliged, in order to avoid getting wet feet, to
assume undignified postures that would afford admirable
material for the caricaturist. But this little bit of discomfort,
even though the luggage should be soaked in the process
of fording, is as nothing compared to the danger of crossing
by the bridge. As I have no desire to harrow unnecessarily
the feelings of the reader, I refrain from all description of
ugly accidents, and shall simply explain in a few words how
a successful passage is effected.

When it is possible to approach the bridge without sink-
ing up to the knees in mud, it is better to avoid all risks by
walking over and waiting for the vehicle on the other side;
and when this is impossible, a preliminary survey is advis-
able. To your inquiries whether it is safe, your yamstchik
(postboy) is sure to reply, "Nitchevo!" — a word which,
according to the dictionaries, means "nothing," but which
has, in the mouths of the peasantry, a great variety of mean-
ings, as I may explain at some future time. In the present
case it may be roughly translated. "There is no danger."
"Nitchevo, Barin, proyedem " ("There is no danger, sir; we
shall get over "), he repeats. You may refer to the generally

i6 RUSSIA

rotten appearance of the structure, and point in particular to
the great holes sufficient to engulf half a post-horse. "Ne
bos', Bog pomozhet " ("Do not fear, God will help "), replies
coolly your phlegmatic Jehu. You may have your doubts
as to whether in this irreligious age Providence will inter-
vene specially for your benefit; but your yamstchik, who
has more faith or fatalism, leaves you little time to solve
the problem. Making hurriedly the sign of the cross, he
gathers up his reins, waves his little whip in the air, and,
shouting lustily, urges on his team. The operation is not
wanting in excitement. First there is a short descent; then
the horses plunge wildly through a zone of deep mud ; next
comes a fearful jolt, as the vehicle is jerked up on to the
first planks ; then the transverse planks, which are but loosely
held in their places, rattle and rumble ominously, as the
experienced, sagacious animals pick their way cautiously
and gingerly among the dangerous holes and crevices ;
lastly, you plunge with a horrible jolt into a second mud
zone, and finally regain terra firma, conscious of that pleasant
sensation which a young cavalry officer may be supposed to
feel after his first cavalry charge in real warfare.

Of course here, as elsewhere, familiarity breeds indiffer-
ence. When you have successfully crossed without serious
accident a few hundred bridges of this kind, you learn to be
as cool and fatalistic as your yamstchik.

The reader who has heard of the gigantic reforms that
have been repeatedly imposed on Russia by a paternal
Government may naturally be astonished to learn that the
roads are still in such a disgraceful condition. But for this,
as for everything else in the world, there is a good and
sufficient reason. The country is still, comparatively speak-
ing, thinly populated, and in many regions it is difficult,
or practically impossible, to procure in sufficient quantity
stone of any kind, and especially hard stone fit for road-
making. Besides this, when roads are made, the severity
of the climate renders it difficult to keep them in good repair.

When a long journey has to be undertaken through a
region in which there are no railways, there are several ways
in which it may be effected. In former days, when time was
of still less value than at present, many landed proprietors

TRAVELLING EQUIPAGE 17

travelled with their own horses, and carried with them, in
one or more capacious, lumbering vehicles, all that was
required for the degree of civilisation which they had
attained; and their requirements were often considerable.
The grand seigneur, for instance, who spent the greater
part of his life amidst the luxury of the court society,
naturally took with him all the portable elements of civilisa-
tion and comfort. His baggage included, therefore, camp-
beds, table-linen, silver plate, a batterie de cuisine, and a
French cook. The pioneers and part of the commissariat
force were sent on in advance, so that his Excellency found
at each halting-place everything prepared for his arrival.
The poor owner of a few dozen serfs dispensed, of course,
with the elaborate commissariat department, and contented
himself with such modest fare as could be packed in the
holes and corners of a single tarantass.

It will be well to explain here, parenthetically, what a
tarantass is, for I shall often have occasion to use the word.
It may be briefly defined as a phaeton without springs. The
function of springs is imperfectly fulfilled by two parallel
wooden bars, placed longitudinally, on which is fixed the
body of the vehicle. It is commonly drawn by three horses
— a strong, fast trotter in the shafts, flanked on each side
by a light, loosely-attached horse that goes along at a gallop.
The points of the shafts are connected by the duga, which
looks like a gigantic, badly-formed horseshoe rising high
above the collar of the trotter. To the top of the duga is
attached the bearing-rein, and underneath the highest part
of it is fastened a big bell — in the southern provinces I found
two, and sometimes even three bells — which, when the
country is open and the atmosphere still, may be heard a
mile off. The use of the bell is variously explained. Some
say it is in order to frighten the wolves, and others that it
is to avoid collisions on the narrow forest paths. But
neither of these explanations is entirely satisfactory. It is
used chiefly in summer, when there is no danger of an
attack from w^olves; and the number of bells is greater in
the south, where there are no forests. Perhaps the original
intention was — I throw out the hint for the benefit of a
certain school of archa:?ologists — to frighten away evil spirits;

i8 RUSSIA

and the practice has been retained partly from unreasoning
conservatism, and partly with a view to lessen the chances
of collisions. As the roads are noiselessly soft, and the
drivers not always vigilant, the dangers of collision are con-
siderably diminished by the ceaseless peal.

Altogether, the tarantass is well adapted to the conditions
in which it is used. By the curious way in which the horses
are harnessed it recalls the war-chariot of ancient times.
The horse in the shafts is compelled by the bearing-rein to
keep his head high and straight before him — though the
movement of his ears shows plainly that he would very much
like to put it somewhere farther away from the tongue of
the bell — but the side horses gallop freely, turning their
heads outwards in classical fashion. I believe that this
position is assumed not from any sympathy on the part of
these animals for the remains of classical art, but rather
from the natural desire to keep a sharp eye on the driver.
Every movement of his right hand they watch with close
attention, and as soon as they discover any symptoms
indicating an intention of using the whip, they immediately
show a desire to quicken the pace.

Now that the reader has gained some idea of what a
tarantass is, we may return to the modes of travelling through
the regions which are not yet supplied with railways.

However enduring and long-winded horses may be, they
must be allowed sometimes, during a long journey, to rest
and feed. Travelling long distances with one's own horses
is therefore necessarily a slow operation, and is now quite
antiquated. People who value their time prefer to make use
of the Imperial Post organisation. On all the principal lines
of communication there are regular post-stations, at from
ten to twenty miles apart, where a certain number of horses
and vehicles are kept for the convenience of travellers. To
enjoy the privilege of this arrangement, one has to apply to
the proper authorities for a Podorozhwaya — a large sheet of
paper stamped with the Imperial Eagle, and bearing the
name of the recipient, the destination, and the number of
horses to be supplied. In return, a small sum is paid for
imaginary road-repairs; the rest of the sum is paid by instal-
ments at the respective stations.

AT THE POST-STATION 19

Armed with this document you go to the post-station and
demand the requisite number of horses. Three is the number
generally used, but if you travel lightly and are indifferent
to appearances, you may content yourself with a pair. The
vehicle is a kind of tarantass, but not such as I have just
described. The essentials in both are the same, but those
which the Imperial Government provides resemble an
enormous cradle on wheels rather than a phaeton. An
armful of hay spread over the bottom of the wooden box
is supposed to play the part of seats and cushions. You
are expected to sit under the arched covering, and extend
your legs so that the feet lie beneath the driver's seat ; but
it is advisable, unless the rain happens to be coming down
in torrents, to get this covering unshipped, and travel
without it. When used, it painfully curtails the little free-
dom of movement that you enjoy, and when you are shot
upwards by some obstruction on the road, it is apt to arrest
your ascent by giving you a violent blow on the top of the
head.

It is to be hoped that you are in no hurry to start, other-
wise your patience may be sorely tried. The horses, when
at last produced, may seem to you the most miserable screws
that it was ever your misfortune to behold ; but you had
better refrain from expressing your feelings, for if you use
violent, uncomplimentary language, it may turn out that
you have been guilty of gross calumny. I have seen many
a team composed of animals which a third-class London
costermonger would have spurned, and in which it was barely
possible to recognise the equine form, do their duty in highly
creditable style, and go along at the rate of ten or twelve
miles an hour, under no stronger incentive than the voice of
the yamstchik. Indeed, the capabilities of these lean, slouch-
ing, ungainly quadrupeds are often astounding when they
are under the guidance of a man who knows how to drive
them. Though such a man commonly carries a harmless
little whip, he rarely uses it except by waving it horizontally
in the air. His incitements are all oral. He talks to his
cattle as he would to animals of his own species — now
encouraging them by tender, caressing epithets, and now
launching at them expressions of indignant scorn. At one

20 RUSSIA

moment they are his "little doves," and at the next they^
have been transformed into "cursed hounds." How far they
understand and appreciate this curious mixture of endearing
cajolery and contemptuous abuse it is difficult to say, but
there is no doubt that it somehow has upon them a strange
and powerful influence.

Anyone who undertakes a journey of this kind should
possess a well-knit, muscular frame and good tough sinews,
capable of supporting an unlimited amount of jolting and
shaking; at the same time, he should be well inured to all
the hardships and discomforts incidental to what is vaguely
termed "roughing it." When he wishes to sleep in a post-
station, he will find nothing softer than a wooden bench,
unless he can induce the keeper to put for him on the floor
a bundle of hay, which is perhaps softer, but on the whole
more disagreeable than the deal board. Sometimes he will
not get even the wooden bench, for in ordinary post-stations
there is but one room for travellers, and the two benches —
there are rarely more — may be already occupied. When he
does obtain a bench, and succeeds in falling asleep, he must
not be astonished if he is disturbed once or twice during the
night by people who use the apartment as a waiting-room
whilst the post-horses are being changed. These passers-by
may even order a samovar, and drink tea, chat, laugh, smoke,
and make themselves otherwise disagreeable, utterly regard-
less of the sleepers. Then there are the other intruders,
smaller in size but equally objectionable, of which I have
already spoken when describing the steamers on the Don.
Regarding them I desire to give merely one word of advice :
As you will have abundant occupation in the work of self-
defence, learn to distinguish between belligerents and
neutrals, and follow the simple principle of international
law, that neutrals should not be molested. They may be
very ugly, but ugliness does not justify assassination. If,
for instance, you should happen in awaking to notice a few
black or brown beetles running about your pillow, restrain
your murderous hand ! If you kill them you commit an act
of unnecessary bloodshed; for though they may playfully
scamper around you, they will do you no bodily harm.

Another requisite for a journey in unfrequented districts

TRAVELLING IN WINTER 2i

is a knowledge of the language. It is popularly supposed
that if you are familiar with French and German you may
travel anywhere in Russia. So far as the great cities and
chief lines of communication are concerned, this may be true,
but beyond that it is a delusion. The Russian has not, any
more than the West-European, received from Nature the
gift of tongues. Educated Russians often speak one or two
foreign languages fluently, but the peasants know no
language but their own, and it is with the peasantry that one
comes in contact. And to converse freely with the peasant
requires a considerable familiarity with the language — far
more than is required for simply reading a book. Though
there are few provincialisms, and all classes of the people
use the same words — except the words of foreign origin,
\vhich are used only by the upper classes — the peasant always
speaks in a more laconic and more idiomatic way than the
educated man.

In the winter months travelling is in some respects
pleasanter than in summer, for snow and frost are great
macadamisers. If the snow falls evenly, there is for some
time the most delightful road that can be imagined. No
jolts, no shaking, but a smooth, gliding motion, like that of
a boat in calm water, and the horses gallop along as if
totally unconscious of the sledge behind them. Unfortun-
ately, this happy state of things does not last all through
the winter. The road soon gets cut up, and deep transverse
furrows (ukhdby) are formed. How- these furrows come into
existence I have never been able clearly to comprehend,
though I have often heard the phenomenon explained by
men w-ho imagined they understood it. Whatever the cause
and mode of formation may be, certain it is that little hills
and valleys do get formed, and the sledge, as it crosses over
them, bobs up and down like a boat in a chopping sea, w^th
this important difference, that the boat falls into a yielding
liquid, whereas the sledge falls upon a solid substance,
unyielding and unelastic. The shaking and jolting which
result may readily be imagined.

There are other discomforts, too, in winter travelling. So
long as the air is perfectly still, the cold may be very intense
without being disagreeable; but if a strong head wind is

22 RUSSIA

blowing, and the thermometer ever so many degrees below
zero, driving in an open sledge is a very disagreeable opera-
tion, and noses may get frostbitten without their owners
perceiving the fact in time to take preventive measures.
Then why not take covered sledges on such occasions ? For
the simple reason that they are not to be had; and if they
could be procured, it would be well to avoid using them, for
they are apt to produce something very like sea-sickness.
Besides this, when the sledge gets overturned, it is pleasanter
to be shot out on to the clean, refreshing snow than to be
buried ignominiously under a pile of miscellaneous baggage.

The chief requisite for winter travelling in these icy
regions is a plentiful supply of warm furs. An Englishman
is very apt to be imprudent in this respect, and to trust too
much to his natural power of resisting cold. To a certain
extent this confidence is justifiable, for an Englishman often
feels quite comfortable in an ordinary great coat, when his
Russian friends consider it necessary to envelop themselves
in furs of the warmest kind; but it may be carried too far,
in which case severe punishment is sure to follow, as I once
learned by experience. I may relate the incident as a warn-
ing to others.

One day in mid-winter I started from Novgorod, with
the intention of visiting some friends at a cavalry barracks
situated about ten miles from the town. As the sun was
shining brightly, and the distance to be traversed was short,
I considered that a light fur and a bashlyk — a cloth hood
which protects the ears — would be quite sufficient to keep
out the cold, and foolishly disregarded the warnings of a
Russian friend who happened to call as I w^as about to start.
Our route lay along the river due northward, right in the
teeth of a strong north wind. A wintry north wind is always
and everywhere a disagreeable enemy to face ; let the reader
try to imagine what it is when the Fahrenheit thermometer
is at 30° below zero — or rather let him refrain from such an
attempt, for the sensation produced cannot be imagined by
those who have not experienced it. Of course I ought to
have turned back — at least, as soon as a sensation of faint-
ness warned me that the circulation was being seriously im-
peded— but I did not wish to confess my imprudence to the

FROSTBITTEN 23

friend who accompanied me. When we had driven about
three-fourths of the way, we met a peasant woman, who
gesticulated violently, and shouted something to us as we
passed. I did not hear what she said, but my friend turned
to me and said in an alarming tone — we had been speaking
German — "Mein Gott ! Ihre Nase ist abgefrohren ! " Now
the word "abgefrohren," as the reader will understand,
seemed to indicate that my nose was frozen off, so I put up
my hand in some alarm to discover whether I had inadver-
tently lost the whole or part of the member referred to. It
w-as still in situ and entire, but as hard and insensible as a
bit of wood.

"You may still save it," said my companion, "if you get
out at once and rub it vigorously with snow\"

I got out as directed, but w^as too faint to do anything
vigorously. My fur cloak flew open, the cold seemed to
grasp me in the region of the heart, and I fell insensible.

How long I remained unconscious I know not. When I
awoke I found myself in a strange room, surrounded by
dragoon officers in uniform, and the first words I heard were,
"He is out of danger now, but he will have a fever."

These w^ords were spoken, as I afterwards discovered, by
a very competent surgeon ; but the prophecy w-as not fulfilled.
The promised fever never came. The only bad consequences
were that for some days my right hand remained stiff, and
for a week or two I had to conceal my nose from public view.

If this little incident justifies me in drawing a general
conclusion, I should say that exposure to extreme cold is an
almost painless form of death; but that the process of being
resuscitated is very painful indeed — so painful, that the
patient may be excused for momentarily regretting that
officious people prevented the temporary insensibility from
becoming "the sleep that knows no waking."

Between the alternate reigns of winter and summer there
is always a short interregnum, during which travelling in
Russia by road is almost impossible. Woe to the ill-fated
mortal w'ho has to make a long road-journey immediately
after the winter snow has melted; or, worse still, at the
beginning of winter, when the autumn mud has been petrified
by the frost, and not yet levelled by the snow !

24 RUSSIA

At all seasons the monotony of a journey is pretty sure
to be broken by little unforeseen episodes of a more or less
disagreeable kind. An axle breaks, or a wheel comes off,
or there is a difficulty in procuring horses. As an illustra-
tion of the graver episodes which may occur, I shall make
here a quotation from my note-book :

Early in the morning we arrived at Maikop, a small town
commanding the entrance to one of the valleys which run
up towards the main range of the Caucasus. On alighting
at the post-station, we at once ordered horses for the next
stage, and received the laconic reply, "There are no horses."

"And when will there be some?"

"To-morrow ! "

This last reply we took for a piece of playful exaggera-
tion, and demanded the book in which, according to law,
the departure of horses is duly inscribed, and from which
it is easy to calculate when the first team should be ready to
start. A short calculation proved that we ought to get
horses by four o'clock in the afternoon, so we showed the
station-keeper various documents, signed by the Minister of
the Interior and other influential personages, and advised
him to avoid all contravention of the postal regulations.

These documents, which proved that we enjoyed the
special protection of the authorities, had generally been of
great service to us in our dealings with rascally station-
keepers ; but this station-keeper was not one of the ordinary
type. He was a Cossack, of herculean proportions, with a
bullet-shaped head, short-cropped bristly hair, shaggy eye-
brows, an enormous pendent moustache, a defiant air, and
a peculiar expression of countenance which plainly indicated
"an ugly customer." Though it was still early in the day,
he had evidently already imbibed a considerable quantity of
alcohol, and his whole demeanour showed clearly enough
that he was not of those who are "pleasant in their liquor."
After glancing superciliously at the documents, as if to
intimate he could read them were he so disposed, he threw
them down on the table, and, thrusting his gigantic paws
into his capacious trouser-pockets, remarked slowly and
decisively, in something deeper than a double-bass voice,
"You'll have horses to-morrow morning."

TROUBLE AT A POST-STATION 25

Wishing to avoid a quarrel, we tried to hire horses in
the village, and when our efforts in that direction proved
fruitless, we applied to the head of the rural police. He
came and used all his influence with the refractory post-
master, but in vain. Hercules was not in a mood to listen
to officials any more than to ordinary mortals. At last,
after considerable trouble to himself, our friend of the police
contrived to find horses for us, and we contented ourselves
with entering an account of the circumstances in the Com-
plaint Book ; but our difficulties were by no means at an
end. As soon as Hercules perceived that we had obtained
horses without his assistance, and that he had thereby lost
his opportunity of blackmailing us, he offered us one of his
own teams, and insisted on detaining us until we should
cancel the complaint against him. This we refused to do,
and our relations with him became what is called in diplo-
matic language "extremement tendues." Again we had to
apply to the police.

My friend mounted guard over the baggage whilst I
went to the police office. I was not long absent, but I found,
on my return, that important events had taken place in the
interval. A crowd had collected round the post-station, and
on the steps stood the keeper and his postboys, declaring
that the traveller inside had attempted to shoot them ! I
rushed in and soon perceived, by the smell of gunpowder,
that firearms had been used, but found no trace of casualties.
My friend was tramping up and down the little room, and
evidently, for the moment, there was an armistice.

In a very short time the local authorities had assembled,
a candle had been lit, two armed Cossacks stood as sentries
at the door, and the preliminary investigation had begun.
The Chief of Police sat at the table and wrote rapidly on a
sheet of foolscap. The investigation showed that two shots
had been fired from a revolver, and two bullets were found
embedded in the wall. All those who had been present,
and some who knew nothing of the incident except by hear-
say, were duly examined. Our opponents always assumed
that my friend had been the assailant, in spite of his pro-
testations to the contrary, and more than once the words
fokiishenie na ubiistvo (attempt to murder) were pronounced.

26 RUSSIA

Things looked very black indeed. We had the prospect of
being detained for days and weeks in the miserable place,
till the insatiable demon of official formality had been pro-
pitiated. And then ?

When things were thus at their blackest they suddenly
took an unexpected turn, and the deus ex machind appeared
precisely at the right moment, just as if we had all been
puppets in a sensation novel. There was the usual moment-
ary silence, and then, mixed with the sound of an approach-
ing tarantass, a confused murmur: "There he is! He is
coming!" The "he" thus vaguely and mysteriously
indicated turned out to be an official of the judicial adminis-
tration, who had reason to visit the village for an entirely
different affair. As soon as he had been told briefly what
had happened he took the matter in hand and showed him-
self equal to the occasion. Unlike the majority of Russian
officials, he disliked lengthy procedure, and succeeded in
making the case quite clear in a very short time. There
had been, he perceived, no attempt to murder or anything
of the kind. The station-keeper and his two postboys, who
had no right to be in the travellers' room, had entered with
threatening mien, and when they refused to retire peaceably,
my friend had fired two shots in order to frighten them
and bring assistance. The falsity of their statement that he
had fired at them as they entered the room was proved by
the fact that the bullets were lodged near the ceiling in the
wall farthest away from the door.

I must confess that I was agreeably surprised by this
unexpected turn of affairs. The conclusions arrived at were
nothing more than a simple statement of what had taken
place ; but I was surprised at the fact that a man who was
at once a lawyer and a Russian official should have been
able to take such a plain, common-sense view of the case.

Before midnight we were once more free men, driving
rapidly in the clear moonlight to the next station, under the
escort of a fully-armed Circassian Cossack; but the idea
that we might have been detained for weeks in that miserable
place haunted us like a nightmare.

CHAPTER II

IN THE NORTHERN FORESTS

There are many ways of describing a country that one has
visited. The simplest and most common method is to give
a chronological account of the journey; and this is perhaps
the best way when the journey does not extend over more
than a few weeks. But it cannot be conveniently employed
in the case of a residence of many years. Did I adopt it,
I should very soon exhaust the reader's patience. I should
have to take him with me to a secluded village, and make
him wait for me till I had learned to speak the language.
Thence he would have to accompany me to a provincial
town, and spend months in a public office, whilst I en-
deavoured to master the mysteries of local self-government.
After this he would have to spend two years with me in a
big library, where I studied the history and literature of the
country. iVnd so on, and so on. Even my journeys would
prove tedious to him, as they often were to myself, for he
would have to drive with me many a score of weary miles,
where even the most zealous diary-writer would find nothing
to record beyond the names of the post-stations.

It will be well for me, then, to avoid the strictly chrono-
logical method, and confine myself to a description of the
more striking objects and incidents that came under my
notice. The knowledge which I derived from books will
help me to supply a running commentary on what I hap-
pened to see and hear.

Instead of beginning in the usual way with St. Peters-
burg, I prefer for many reasons to leave the description of
the capital till some future time, and plunge at once into
the great northern forest region.

If it were possible to get a bird's-eye view of European
Russia, the spectator would perceive that the country is
composed of two halves, widely differing from each other

27

28 RUSSIA

in character. The northern half is a land of forest and
morass, plentifully supplied with water in the form of rivers,
lakes, and marshes, and broken up by sporadic patches of
cultivation. The southern half is, as it were, the other side
of the pattern — an immense expanse of rich arable land,
broken up by occasional patches of sand or forest. The
imaginary undulating line separating those two regions
starts from the western frontier about the 50th parallel of
latitude, and runs in a north-easterly direction till it enters
the Ural range at about 56° N.L.

Well do I remember my first experience of travel in the
northern region, and the weeks of voluntary exile which
formed the goal of the journey. It was in the summer of
1870. My reason for undertaking the journey was this : a
few months of life in St. Petersburg had fully convinced
me that the Russian language is one of those things which
can only be acquired by practice, and that even a person of
antediluvian longevity might spend all his life in that city
without learning to express himself fluently in the vernacular
— especially if he has the misfortune of being able to speak
English, French, and German. With his friends and
associates he speaks French or English. German serves as
a medium of communication with waiters, shopkeepers, and
other people of that class. It is only with isvoshtchiki — the
drivers of the little open droshkis which fulfil the function
of cabs — that he is obliged to use the native tongue, and
with them a very limited vocabulary suffices. The ordinal
numerals and four short, easily acquired expressions —
poshol (go on), 7ia prdvo (to the right), na lyevo (to the
left), and stoi (stop) — are all that is required.

Whilst I was considering how I could get beyond the
sphere of West-European languages, a friend came to my
assistance, and suggested that I should go to his estate in
the province of Novgorod, where I should find an intelligent,
amiable parish priest, quite innocent of any linguistic
acquirements. This proposal I at once adopted, and accord-
ingly found myself one morning at a small station of the
Moscow Railway, endeavouring to explain to a peasant in
sheep's clothing that I wished to be conveyed to Ivdnovka,
the village where my future teacher lived. At that time I

ON THE WAY TO IVANOVKA 29

still spoke Russian in a very fragmentary and confused way
— pretty much as Spanish cows are popularly supposed to
speak French. My first remark, therefore, being literally
interpreted, was, "Ivanovka. Horses. You can?" The
point of interrogation was expressed by a simultaneous
raising of the voice and the eyebrows.

"Ivanovka?" cried the peasant, in an interrogatory tone
of voice. In Russia, as in other countries, the peasantry
when speaking with strangers like to repeat questions,
apparently for the purpose of gaining time.

"Ivanovka," I replied.

"Now?"

"Now!"

After some reflection the peasant nodded and said some-
thing which I did not understand, but which I assumed to
mean that he was open to consider proposals for transporting
me to my destination.

"Roubles. How many?"

To judge by the knitting of the brows and the scratching
of the head, I should say that that question gave occasion
to a very abstruse mathematical calculation. Gradually the
look of concentrated attention gave place to an expression
such as children assume when they endeavour to get a
parental decision reversed by means of coaxing. Then came
a stream of soft words which were to me utterly unintelligible.

I must not weary the reader with a detailed account of
the succeeding negotiations, which were conducted w'ith
extreme diplomatic caution on both sides, as if a cession of
territory or the payment of a war-indemnity had been the
subject of discussion. Three times he drove away and three
times returned. Each time he abated his pretensions, and
each time I slightly increased my offer. At last, when I
began to fear that he had finally taken his departure and
had left me to my own devices, he re-entered the room and
took up my baggage, indicating thereby that he agreed to
my last proposal.

The sum agreed upon would have been, under ordinary
circumstances, more than sufficient, but before proceeding
far I discovered that the circumstances were by no means
ordinary, and I began to understand the pantomimic gesticu-

30 RUSSIA

lation which had puzzled me during the negotiations.
Heavy rain had fallen without interruption for several days,
and now the track on which we were travelling could not,
without poetical licence, be described as a road. In some
parts it resembled a water-course, in others a quagmire, and
at least during the first half of the journey I was constantly
reminded of that stage in the work of creation when the
water was not yet separated from the dry land. During the
few moments when the work of keeping my balance and
preventing my baggage from being lost did not engross all
my attention, I speculated on the possibility of inventing a
boat-carriage, to be drawn by some amphibious quadruped.
Fortunately our two lean, wiry little horses did not object
to being used as aquatic animals. They took the water
bravely, and plunged through the mud in gallant style.
The telega in which we were seated — a four-wheeled skeleton
cart — did not submit to the ill-treatment so silently. It
creaked out its remonstrances and entreaties, and at the
more difficult spots threatened to go to pieces; but its owner
understood its character and capabilities, and paid no
attention to its ominous threats. Once, indeed, a wheel
came off, but it was soon fished out of the mud and replaced,
and no further casualty occurred.

The horses did their work so well that when about mid-
day we arrived at a village, I could not refuse to let them
have some rest and refreshment — all the more as my own
thoughts had begun to turn in that direction.

The village, like villages in that part of the country
generally, consisted of two long parallel rows of wooden
houses. The road — if a stratum of deep mud can be called
by that name — formed the intervening space. All the
houses turned their gables to the passer-by, and some of
them had pretensions to architectural decoration in the form
of rude perforated woodwork. Between the houses, and in
a line with them, were great wooden gates and high wooden
fences, separating the courtyards from the road. Into one
of these yards, near the farther end of the village, our horses
turned of their own accord.

"An inn?" I said, in an interrogative tone.

The driver shook his head and said something, in

A PEASANT'S HOUSE 31

which I detected the word "friend." Evidently there was
no hostelry for man and beast in the village, and the driver
was using a friend's house for the purpose.

The yard was flanked on the one side by an open shed,
containing rude agricultural implements which might throw
some light on the agriculture of the primitive Aryans, and
on the other side by the dwelling-house and stable. Both
the house and stable were built of logs, nearly cylindrical
in form, and placed in horizontal tiers.

Two of the strongest of human motives, hunger and
curiosity, impelled me to enter the house at once. Without
waiting for an invitation, I went up to the door — half
protected against the winter snows by a small open portico —
and unceremoniously walked in. The first apartment was
empty, but I noticed a low door in the wall to the left, and,
passing through this, entered the principal room. As the
scene was new to me, I noted the chief objects. In the
wall before me were two small square windows looking out
upon the road, and in the corner to the right, nearer to the
ceiling than to the floor, was a little triangular shelf, on
which stood a religious picture. Before the picture hung
a curious oil lamp. In the corner to the left of the door
was a gigantic stove, built of brick, and whitewashed. From
the top of the stove to the wall on the right stretched what
might be called an enormous shelf, six or eight feet in
breadth. This was the so-called paldti, as I afterwards dis-
covered, and served as a bed for part of the family. The
furniture consisted of a long w'ooden bench attached to the
wall on the right, a big, heavy deal table, and a few wooden
stools.

Whilst I was leisurely surveying these objects, I heard
a noise on the top of the stove, and, looking up, perceived
a human face, with long hair parted in the middle, and a
full yellow beard. I was considerably astonished by this
apparition, for the air in the room was stifling, and I had
some difflculty in believing that any created being — except
perhaps a salamander or a negro — could exist in such a
position. I looked hard to convince myself that I was not
the victim of a delusion. As I stared, the head nodded
slowly and pronounced the customary form of greeting.

32 RUSSIA

I returned the greeting slowly, wondering what was to
come next.

"Ill, very ill ! " sighed the head.

"I'm not astonished at that," I remarked, in an "aside."
"If I were lying on the stove as you are I should be very
ill too."

"Hot, very hot?" I remarked, interrogatively.

"Nitchevo" — that is to say, "Not particularly." This
remark astonished me all the more, as I noticed that the
body to which the head belonged was enveloped in a
sheepskin !

After living some time in Russia I was no longer sur-
prised by such incidents, for I soon discovered that the
Russian peasant has a marvellous power of bearing extreme
heat as well as extreme cold. When a coachman takes his
master or mistress to the theatre or to a party, he never
thinks of going home and returning at an appointed time.
Hour after hour he sits placidly on the box, and though
the cold be of an intensity such as is never experienced in
our temperate climate, he can sleep as tranquilly as the
lazzarone at mid-day in Naples. In that respect the Russian
peasant seems to be first-cousin to the polar bear, but, unlike
the animals of the arctic regions, he is not at all incom-
moded by excessive heat. On the contrary, he likes it when
he can get it, and never omits an opportunity of laying in
a reserve supply of caloric. He even delights in rapid
transitions from one extreme to the other, as is amply
proved by a curious custom which deserves to be recorded.

The reader must know that in the life of the Russian
peasantry the weekly vapour-bath plays a most important
part. It has even a certain religious signification, for no
good orthodox peasant would dare to enter a church after
being soiled by certain kinds of pollution without cleansing
himself physically and morally by means of the bath. In
the weekly arrangements it forms the occupation for Satur-
day afternoon, and care is taken to avoid thereafter all
pollution until after the morning service on Sunday. Many
villages possess a public or communal bath of the most
primitive construction, but in some parts of the country —
I am not sure how far the practice extends — the peasants

VAPOUR-BATHS 33

take their vapour-bath in the household oven in which the
bread is baked ! In all cases the operation is pushed to the
extreme limit of human endurance — far beyond the utmost
limit that can be endured by those who have not been
accustomed to it from childhood. For my own part, I only
made the experiment once; and when I informed my
attendant that my life was in danger from congestion of
the brain, he laughed outright, and told me that the
operation had only begun. Most astounding of all — and
this brings me to the fact which led me into this digression —
the peasants in winter often rush out of the bath and roll
themselves in the snow ! This aptly illustrates a common
Russian proverb, which says that what is health to the
Russian is death to the German.

Cold water, as well as hot vapour, is sometimes used as
a means of purification. In the villages the old pagan habit
of masquerading in absurd costumes at certain seasons — as
is done during the carnival in Roman Catholic countries
with the approval, or at least connivance, of the Church —
still survives; but it is regarded as not altogether sinless.
He who uses such disguises places himself to a certain extent
under the influence of the Evil One, thereby putting his
soul in jeopardy ; and to free himself from this danger he
has to purify himself in the following way : When the
annual mid-winter ceremony of blessing the waters is per-
formed, by breaking a hole in the ice and immersing a
cross with certain religious rites, he should plunge into the
hole as soon as possible after the ceremony. I remember
once at Yaroslavl, on the Volga, two young peasants
successfully accomplished this feat — though the police have
orders to prevent it — and escaped, apparently without evil
consequences, though the Fahrenheit thermometer was
below zero. How far the custom has really a purifying in-
fluence is a question which must be left to theologians; but
even an ordinary mortal can understand that, if it be
regarded as a penance, it must have a certain deterrent
effect. The man who foresees the necessity of undergoing
this severe penance will think twice before putting on a
disguise. So at least it must have been in the good old
times; but in these degenerate days — among the Russian
c

34 RUSSIA

peasantry as elsewhere — the fear of the Devil, which was
formerly, if not the beginning, at least one of the essential
elements of wisdom, has greatly decreased. Many a young
peasant will now thoughtlessly disguise himself, and when
the consecration of the water is performed, will stand and
look on passively like an ordinary spectator ! It would
seem that the Devil, like his enemy the Pope, is destined
to lose gradually his temporal power.

But all this time I am neglecting my new acquaintance
on the top of the stove. In reality I did not neglect him,
but listened most attentively to every word of the long tale
that he recited. What it was all about I could only vaguely
guess, for I did not understand more than ten per cent, of
the words used, but I assumed from the tone and gestures
that he was relating to me all the incidents and symptoms
of his illness. And a very severe illness it must have been,
for it requires a very considerable amount of physical suffer-
ing to make the patient Russian peasant groan. Before
he had finished his tale a woman entered, apparently his
wife. To her I explained that I had a strong desire to eat
and drink, and that I wished to know what she could give
me. By a good deal of laborious explanation I was made
to understand that I could have eggs, black bread, and
milk, and we agreed that there should be a division of
labour : my hostess should prepare the samovar for boiling
water, whilst I should fry the eggs to my own satisfaction.

In a few minutes the repast was ready, and, though
not very delicate, was highly acceptable. The tea and
sugar I had, of course, brought with me ; the eggs were not
very highly flavoured ; and the black rye-bread, strongly
intermixed with sand, could be eaten by a peculiar and
easily acquired method of mastication, in which the upper
molars are never allowed to touch those of the lower jaw.
In this way the grating of the sand between the teeth is
avoided.

Eggs, black bread, milk, and tea- — these formed my
ordinary articles of food during all my wanderings in
Northern Russia. Occasionally potatoes could be got, and
afforded the possibility of varying the bill of fare. The
favourite materials employed in the native cookery are sour

THE PRIEST'S HOUSE 35

cabbage, cucumbers, and kvass—a kind of very small beer
made from black bread. None of these can be recommended
to the traveller who is not already accustomed to them.

The remainder of the journey was accomplished at a
rather more rapid pace than the preceding part, for the road
was decidedly better, though it was traversed by numerous
half-buried roots, which produced violent jolts. From the
conversation of the driver I gathered that wolves, bears, and
elks were found in the forest through which we were
passing.

The sun had long since set when we reached our
destination, and I found to my dismay that the priest's house
was closed for the night. To rouse the reverend personage
from his slumbers, and endeavour to explain to him with
my limited vocabulary the object of my visit, was not to be
thought of. On the other hand, there was no inn of any
kind in the vicinity. When I consulted the driver as to
what was to be done, he meditated for a little, and then
pointed to a large house at some distance w^here there were
still lights. It turned out to be the country-house of the
gentleman who had advised me to undertake the journey,
and here, after a short explanation, though the owner was
not at home, I was hospitably received.

It had been my intention to live in the priest's house,
but a short interview with him on the following day con-
vinced me that that part of my plan could not be carried
out. The preliminary objections that I should find but poor
fare in his humble household, and much more of the same
kind, were at once put aside by my assurance, made partly
by pantomime, that, as an old traveller, I was well accus-
tomed to simple fare, and could always accommodate myself
to the habits of people among whom my lot happened to
be cast. But there was a more serious difficulty. The
priest's family had, as is generally the case with priests'
families, been rapidly increasing during the last few years,
and his house had not been growing with equal rapidity.
The natural consequence of this was that he had not a room
or a bed to spare. The little room which he had formerly
kept for occasional visitors was now occupied by his eldest
daughter, who had returned from a "school for the

36 RUSSIA

daughters of the clergy," where she had been for the last two
years. Under these circumstances, I was constrained to
accept the kind proposal made to me by the representative
of my absent friend, that I should take up my quarters in
one of the numerous unoccupied rooms in the manor house.
This arrangement, I was reminded, would not at all inter-
fere with my proposed studies, for the priest lived close at
hand, and I might spend with him as much time as I liked.

And now let me introduce the reader to my reverend
teacher, and one or two other personages whose acquaintance
I made during my voluntary exile.

CHAPTER III

VOLUNTARY EXILE

This village, Ivdnovka by name, in which I proposed to
spend some months, was rather more picturesque than
villages in these northern forests commonly are. The
peasants' huts, built on both sides of a straight road, were
colourless enough, and the big church, with its five pear-
shaped cupolas rising out of the bright green roof and its
ugly belfry in the Renaissance style, was not by any means
beautiful in itself; but when seen from a little distance,
especially in the soft evening twilight, the whole might have
been made the subject of a very pleasing picture. From the
point that a landscape-painter would naturally have chosen,
the foreground was formed by a meadow, through which
flowed sluggishly a meandering stream. On a bit of rising
ground to the right, and half concealed by an intervening
cluster of old, rich-coloured pines, stood the manor house — a
box-shaped, whitewashed building, with a veranda in front,
overlooking a small plot that might some day become a
flower garden. To the left of this stood the village, the
houses grouping prettily with the big church, and a little
farther in this direction was an avenue of graceful birches.
On the extreme left were fields, bounded by a dark border
of fir-trees. Could the spectator have raised himself a few
hundred feet from the ground, he would have seen that
there were fields beyond the village, and that the whole of
this agricultural oasis was imbedded in a forest stretching
in all directions as far as the eye could reach.

The history of the place may be told in a few words.
In former times the estate, including the village and all its
inhabitants, had belonged to a monastery, but when, in
1764, the Church lands were secularised by Catherine II.,
it became the property of the State. Some years afterwards
the Empress granted it, with the serfs and everything else

37

38 RUSSIA

which it contained, to an old general who had distinguished
himself in the Turkish wars. From that time it had re-
mained in the K family. Some time between the years

1820 and 1840, the big church and the mansion house had
been built by the actual possessor's father, who loved
country life, and devoted a large part of his time and
energies to the management of his estate. His son, on
the contrary, preferred St. Petersburg to the country, served
in one of the public offices, loved passionately French plays
and other products of urban civilisation, and left the entire
management of the property to a German steward, popularly
known as Karl Karl'itch, whom I shall introduce to the
reader presently.

The village annals contained no important events, except
bad harvests, cattle plagues, and destructive fires, with which
the inhabitants seem to have been periodically visited from
time immemorial. If good harvests were ever experienced,
they must have faded from the popular recollection. Then
there were certain ancient traditions which might have been
lessened in bulk and improved in quality by being subjected
to searching historical criticism. More than once, for in-
stance, a leshie, or wood-sprite, had been seen in the neigh-
bourhood; and in several households the domovoi, or
brownie, had been known to play strange pranks until he
was properly propitiated. And as a set-off against these
manifestations of evil powers, there were well-authenticated
stories about a miracle-working image that had mysteriously
appeared on the branch of a tree, and about numerous
miraculous cures that had been effected by means of pilgrim-
ages to holy shrines.

But it is time to introduce the principal personages of
this little community. Of these, by far the most important
was Karl Karl'itch, the steward.

First of all I ought, perhaps, to explain how Karl
Schmidt, the son of a well-to-do Bauer in the Prussian
village of Schonhausen, became Karl Karl'itch, the principal
personage in the Russian village of Ivanovka.

About the time of the Crimean War, many of the Russian
landed proprietors had become alive to the necessity of
improving the primitive, traditional methods of agriculture,

THE STEWARD OF THE ESTATE 39

and sought for this purpose German stewards for their
estates. Among these proprietors was the owner of
Ivanovka. Through the medium of a friend in Berlin, he
succeeded in engaging for a moderate salary a young man
who had just finished his studies in one of the German
schools of agriculture — the institution at Hohenheim, if my
memory does not deceive me. This young man had arrived
in Russia as plain Karl Schmidt, but his name was soon
transformed into Karl Karl'itch, not from any desire of his
own, but in accordance with a curious Russian custom. In
Russia, one usually calls a man not by his family name, but
by his Christian name and patronymic — the latter being
formed from the name of his father. Thus, if a man's name
is Nicholas, and his father's Christian name is — or was —
Ivan, you address him as Nikolai Ivanovitch (pronounced
Ivan'itch); and if this man should happen to have a sister
called Mary, you will address her — even though she should
be married — as Marya Ivdnovna (pronounced Ivanna).

Immediately on his arrival, young Schmidt had set him-
self vigorously to reorganise the estate and improve the
method of agriculture. Some ploughs, harrows, and other
implements which had been imported at a former period
were dragged out of the obscurity in which they had lain for
several years, and an attempt was made to farm on scientific
principles. The attempt was far from being completely
successful, for the serfs — this was before the Emancipation
— could not be made to work like regularly trained German
labourers. In spite of all admonitions, threats, and punish-
ments, they still persisted in working slowly, listlessly,
inaccurately, and occasionally they broke the new instru-
ments, from carelessness or some more culpable motive. Karl
Karl'itch was not naturally a hard-hearted man, but he was
very rigid in his notions of duty, and could be cruelly severe
when his orders were not executed with an accuracy and
punctuality that seemed to the Russian rustic mind mere
useless pedantry. The serfs did not offer him any open
opposition, and were always obsequiously respectful in their
demeanour towards him, but they invariably frustrated his
plans by their carelessness and stolid, passive resistance.
Thus arose that silent conflict and that smouldering

40 RUSSIA

mutual enmity which almost always result from the contact
of the Teuton with the Slav. The serfs instinctively re-
gretted the good old times, when they lived under the rough-
and-ready patriarchal rule of their masters, assisted by a
native burmister, or overseer, who was one of themselves.
The burmister had not always been honest in his dealings
with them, and the master had often, when in anger, ordered
severe punishments to be inflicted; but the burmister had
not attempted to make them change their old habits, and
had shut his eyes to many little sins of omission and com-
mission, whilst the master was always ready to assist them
in difficulties, and commonly treated them in a kindly,
familiar way. As the old Russian proverb has it, "Where
anger is, there too is kindly forgiveness." Karl Karl'itch,
on the contrary, was the personification of uncompassionate,
inflexible law. Blind rage and compassionate kindliness
were alike foreign to his system of government. If he had
any feeling towards the serfs, it was one of chronic con-
tempt. The word durdk (blockhead) was constantly on his
lips, and when any bit of work was well done, he took it as
a matter of course, and never thought of giving a word of
approval or encouragement.

When it became evident, in 1859, that the emancipation
of the serfs was at hand, Karl Karl'itch confidently predicted
that the country would inevitably go to ruin. He knew by
experience that the peasants were lazy and improvident, even
when they lived under the tutelage of a master and with the
fear of the rod before their eyes. What would they become
when this guidance and salutary restraint would be re-
moved? The prospect raised terrible forebodings in the
mind of the worthy steward, who had his employer's in-
terests really at heart ; and these forebodings were consider-
ably increased and intensified when he learned that the
peasants were to receive by law the land which they occupied
on sufferance, and which comprised about a half of the
whole arable land of the estate. This arrangement he
declared to be a dangerous and unjustifiable infraction of the
sacred rights of property, which savoured strongly of
communism, and could have but one practical result : the
emancipated peasants would live by the cultivation of their

GERMAN VIEW OF EMANCIPATION 41

own land, and would not consent on any terms to work for
their former master.

In the few months which immediately followed the
publication of the Emancipation Edict in 1861,* Karl
Karl'itch found much to confirm his most gloomy appre-
hensions. The peasants showed themselves dissatisfied with
the privileges conferred upon them, and sought to evade
the corresponding duties imposed on them by the new law.
In vain he endeavoured, by exhortations, promises, and
threats, to get the most necessary part of the field-work done,
and showed the peasants the provision of the law enjoining
them to obey and work as of old until some new arrange-
ment should be made. To all his appeals they replied that,
having been freed by the Tsar, they were no longer obliged
to work for their former master; and he was at last forced
to appeal to the authorities. This step had a certain effect,
but the field-work was executed that year even worse than
usual, and the harvest suffered in consequence.

Since that time things had gradually improved. The
peasants had discovered that they could not support them-
selves and pay their taxes from the land ceded to them, and
had accordingly consented to till the proprietor's fields for
a moderate recompense. "These last two years," said Karl
Karl'itch to me, with an air of honest self-satisfaction, "I
have been able, after paying all expenses, to transmit little
sums to the young master in St. Petersburg. It was cer-
tainly not much, but it shows that things are better than
they were. Still, it is hard, uphill work. The peasants have
not been improved by liberty. They now work less and
drink more than they did in the times of serfage, and if you
say a word to them they'll go away, and not work for you
at all." Here Karl Karl'itch indemnified himself for his
recent self-control in the presence of his workers by using
a series of the strongest epithets which the combined
languages of his native and of his adopted country could
supply. "But laziness and drunkenness are not their only
faults. They let their cattle wander into our fields, and never
lose an opportunity of stealing firewood from the forest."

* An account of the Emancipation of the Serfs will be found in Chapters
XXIX., XXX., and XXXI.
C*

42 RUSSIA

"But you have now for such matters the rural justices
of the peace," I ventured to suggest.

"The justices of the peace!" Here

Karl Karl'itch used an inelegant expression, which showed
plainly that he was no unqualified admirer of the new
judicial institutions. "What is the use of applying to the
justices? The nearest one lives six miles off, and when I
go to him he evidently tries to make me lose as much time
as possible. I am sure to lose nearly a whole day, and at
the end of it I may find that I have got nothing for my
pains. These justices always try to find some excuse for
the peasant, and when they do condemn, by way of excep-
tion, the affair does not end there. There is pretty sure
to be a pettifogging practitioner prowling about — some
rascally scribe who has been dismissed from the public
offices for pilfering and extorting too openly — and he is
always ready to whisper to the peasant that he should
appeal. The peasant knows that the decision is just, but
he is easily persuaded that by appealing to the Monthly
Sessions he gets another chance in the lottery, and may
perhaps draw a prize. He lets the rascally scribe, therefore,
prepare an appeal for him, and I receive an invitation to
attend the Session of Justices in the district town on a
certain day.

" It is a good five-and-thirty miles to the district town,
as you know, but I get up early, and arrive at eleven o'clock,
the hour stated in the official notice. A crowd of peasants
is hanging about the door of the court, but the only official
present is the porter. I inquire of him when my case is
likely to come on, and receive the laconic answer, ' How
should I know ? ' After half an hour the secretary arrives.
I repeat my question, and receive the same answer. Another
half-hour passes, and one of the justices drives up in his
tarantass. Perhaps he is a glib-tongued gentleman, and
assures me that the proceedings will commence at once :
' Sei tchas ! sei tchas ! ' Don't believe what the priest or
the dictionary tells you about the meaning of that expres-
sion. The dictionary will tell you that it means ' im-
mediately,' but that's all nonsense. In the mouth of a
Russian it means ' in an hour,' ' next week,' * in a year or

JUSTICES OF THE PEACE 43

two,' ' never ' — most commonly ' never.' Like many other
words in Russian, ' sei tchas ' can be understood only after
long experience. A second justice drives up, and then a
third. No more are required by law, but these gentlemen
must first smoke several cigarettes and discuss all the local
news before they begin work.

"At last they take their seats on the bench — a slightly
elevated platform at one end of the room, behind a table
covered with green baize — and the proceedings commence.
My case is sure to be pretty far down on the list — the
secretary takes, I believe, a malicious pleasure in watching
my impatience — and before it is called the justices have to
retire at least once for refreshments and cigarettes. I have
to amuse myself by listening to the other cases, and some
of them, I can assure you, are amusing enough. The walls
of that room must be by this time pretty well saturated with
perjury, and many of the witnesses catch at once the in-
fection. Perhaps I may tell you some other time a few of the
amusing incidents that I have seen there. At last my case
is called. It is as clear as daylight, but the rascally petti-
fogger is there with a long, prepared speech. He holds
in his hand a small volume of the codified law, and quotes
paragraphs which no amount of human ingenuity can make
to bear upon the subject. Perhaps the previous decision is
confirmed ; perhaps it is reversed ; in either case, I have lost
a second day and exhausted more patience than I can con-
veniently spare. And something even worse may happen,
as I know by experience. Once during a case of mine there
was some little informality — someone inadvertentlv opened
the door of the consulting-room when the decision was being
written, or some other little incident of the sort occurred,
and the rascally pettifogger complained to the Supreme
Court of Revision, which is a part of the Senate. The case
was all about a few roubles, but it was discussed in St.
Petersburg, and afterwards tried over again by another
court of justices. Now I have paid my Lehrgeld, and go
no more to law."

"Then you must expose yourself to all kinds of
extortion ? "

"Not so much as you might imagine. I have my own

44 RUSSIA

way of dispensing justice. When I catch a peasant's horse
or cow in our fields, I lock it up and make the owner pay
a ransom."

"Is it not rather dangerous," I inquired, "to take the
law thus into your own hands? I have heard that the
Russian justices are extremely severe against anyone who
has recourse to what your German jurists call Selbsthiilfe."

"That they are! So long as you are in Russia, you
had much better let yourself be quietly robbed than use any
violence against the robber. It is less trouble, and it is
cheaper in the long run. If you do not, you may unex-
pectedly find yourself some fine morning in prison ! You
must know that many of the young justices belong to the
new school of morals."

"What is that? I have not heard of any new discoveries
lately in the sphere of speculative ethics."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I am not one of the
initiated, and I can only tell you what I hear. So far as I
have noticed, the representatives of the new doctrine talk
chiefly about Gumannost' and Tchelovetcheskoe dostoinstvo.
You know what these words mean ? "

"Humanity, or rather humanitarianism and human
dignity," I replied, not sorry to give a proof that I was
advancing in my studies.

"There, again, you allow your dictionary and your
priest to mislead you. These terms, when used by a
Russian, cover much more than we understand by them,
and those who use them most frequently have generally
a special tenderness for all kinds of malefactors. In the
old times malefactors were popularly believed to be bad,
dangerous people ; but it has been lately discovered that this
is a delusion. A young proprietor who lives not far off
assures me that they are the true Protestants, and the most
powerful social reformers ! They protest practically against
those imperfections of social organisation of which they are
the involuntary victims. The feeble, characterless man
quietly submits to his chains; the bold, generous, strong
man breaks his fetters, and helps others to do the same. A
very ingenious defence of all kinds of rascality, isn't it?"

"Well, it is a theory that might certainly be carried too

NEW SCHOOL OF MORALS 45

far, and might easily lead to very inconvenient conclusions;
but I am not sure that, theoretically speaking, it does not
contain a certain element of truth. It ought at least to foster
that charity which we are enjoined to practise towards all
men. But perhaps ' all men ' does not include publicans
and sinners ? "

On hearing these words, Karl Karl'itch turned to me,
and every feature of his honest German face expressed the
most undisguised astonishment. "Are you, too, a Nihilist? "
he inquired, as soon as he had partially recovered his breath.

"I really don't know what a Nihilist is, but I may
assure you that I am not an ' ist ' of any kind. What is a
Nihilist?"

"If you live long in Russia you'll learn that without
my telling you.* As I was saying, I am not at all afraid
of the peasants citing me before the justice. They know
better now. If they gave me too much trouble I could
starve their cattle."

"Yes, when you catch them in your fields," I remarked,
taking no notice of the abrupt turn which he had given to
the conversation.

"I can do it without that. You must know that, by the
Emancipation Law, the peasants received arable land, but
they received little or no pasturage. I have the whip hand
of them there ! "

The remarks of Karl Karl'itch on men and things were
to me always interesting, for he was a shrewd observer,
and displayed occasionally a pleasant, dry humour. But I
very soon discovered that his opinions were not to be
accepted without reserve. His strong, inflexible Teutonic
nature often prevented him from judging impartially. He
had no sympathy with the men and the institutions around
him, and consequently he was unable to see things from the
inside. The specks and blemishes on the surface he per-
ceived clearly enough, but he had no knowledge of the
secret, deep-rooted causes by which these specks and
blemishes were produced. The simple fact that a man
was a Russian satisfactorily accounted, in his opinion, for
any kind of moral deformity; and his knowledge turned

* The explanation will be found in Chapter XXXIV.

46 RUSSIA

out to be by no means so extensive as I had at first supposed.
Though he had been many years in the country, he knew
very Uttle about the life of the peasants beyond that small
part of it which concerned directly his own interests and
those of his employer. Of the communal organisation,
domestic life, religious beliefs, ceremonial practices, and
nomadic habits of his humble neighbours, he knew little,
and the little he happened to know was far from accurate.
In order to gain a knowledge of these matters it would be
better, I perceived, to consult the priest, or, better still, the
peasants themselves. But to do this it would be necessary
to understand easily and speak fluently the colloquial
language, and I was still very far from having acquired the
requisite proficiency.

Even for one who possesses a natural facility for acquiring
foreign tongues, the learning of Russian is by no means an
easy task. Though it is essentially an Aryan language like
our own, and contains only a slight intermixture of Tartar
words — such as bashlyk (a hood), kalpak (a nightcap),
arhuz (a water-melon) — it has certain sounds unknown to
West-European ears, and difficult for West-European
tongues, and its roots, though in great part derived from
the same original stock as those of the Gr^eco-Latin and
Teutonic languages, are generally not at all easily recog-
nised. As an illustration of this, take the Russian word
oteis. Strange as it may at first sight appear, this word is
merely another form of our word father, of the German vater,
and of the French pere. The syllable eis is the ordinary
Russian termination denoting the agent, corresponding to
the English and German ending er, as we see in such words
as — kup-ets (a buyer), plov-ets (a swimmer), and many
others. The root ot is a mutilated form of vot, as we see
in the word otchina (a paternal inheritance), which is
frequently written votchina. Now vot is evidently the same
root as the German vat in vater, and the English fath in
father. Quod erat demonstrandum.

All this is simple enough, and goes to prove the funda-
mental identity, or rather the community of origin, of the
Slav and Teutonic languages; but it will be readily under-
stood that etymological analogies so carefully disguised are

THE RUSSIAN LANGUAGE 47

of little practical use in helping us to acquire a foreign
tongue. Besides this, the grammatical forms and construc-
tions in Russian are very peculiar, and present a great many
strange irregularities. As an illustration of this we may
take the future tense. The Russian verb has commonly a
simple and a frequentative future. The latter is always
regularly formed by means of an auxiliary with the infinitive,
as in English, but the former is constructed in a variety of
w-ays, for which no rule can be given, so that the simple
future of each individual verb must be learned by a pure
effort of memory. In many verbs it is formed by prefixing
a preposition, but it is impossible to determine by rule which
preposition should be used. Thus idii (I go) becomes in
the future tense poidu; pishu (I write) becomes napishu; pyu
(I drink) becomes vuipyu, and so on.

Closely akin to the difficulties of pronunciation is the
difficulty of accentuating the proper syllable. In this respect
Russian is like Greek ; you can rarely tell a priori on what
syllable the accent falls. But it is more puzzling than
Greek, for two reasons : firstly, it is not customary to print
Russian with accents ; and secondly, no one has yet been
able to lay down precise rules for the transposition of the
accent in the various inflections of the same word. Of this
latter peculiarity, let one illustration suffice. The word ruki
(hand) has the accent on the last syllable, but in the accusa-
tive {riiku) the accent goes back to the first syllable. It must
not, however, be assumed that in all words of this type a
similar transposition takes place. The word bedd (mis-
fortune), for instance, as well as very many others, always
retains the accent on the last syllable.

These and many similar difficulties, which need not be
here enumerated, can be mastered only by long practice.
Serious as they are, they need not frighten anyone who
is in the habit of learning foreign tongues. The ear and
the tongue gradually become familiar with the peculiarities
of inflection and accentuation, and practice fulfils the same
function as abstract rules.

It is commonly supposed that Russians have been
endowed by Nature with a peculiar linguistic talent. Their
own language, it is said, is so difficult that they have no

48 RUSSIA

difficulty in acquiring others. This common belief requires,
as it seems to me, some explanation. That highly educated
Russians are better linguists than the educated classes of
Western Europe there can be no possible doubt, for they
almost always speak French, and often English and German
also. The question, however, is whether this is the result
of a psychological peculiarity, or of other causes. Now,
without venturing to deny the existence of a natural faculty,
I should say that the other causes have at least exercised
a powerful influence. Any Russian who wishes to be re-
garded as civilise must possess at least one foreign language ;
and, as a consequence of this, the children of the upper
classes are always taught at least French in their infancy.
Many households comprise a German nurse, a French tutor,
and an English governess; and the children thus become
accustomed from their earliest years to the use of these three
languages. Besides this, Russian is phonetically very rich,
and contains nearly all the sounds which are to be found in
West-European tongues. Perhaps on the whole it would
be well to apply here the Darwinian theory, and suppose
that the Russian noblesse, having been obliged for several
generations to acquire foreign languages, have gradually
developed a hereditary polyglot talent.

Several circumstances concurred to assist me in my
efforts, during my voluntary ex'ile, to acquire at least such
a knowledge of the language as would enable me to converse
freely with the peasantry. In the first place, my reverend
teacher was an agreeable, kindly, talkative man, who took
a great delight in telling interminable stories, quite in-
dependently of any satisfaction which he might derive from
the consciousness of their being understood and appreciated.
Even when walking alone he was always muttering some-
thing to an imaginary listener. A stranger meeting him
on such occasions might have supposed that he was holding
converse with unseen spirits, though his broad muscular
form and rubicund face militated strongly against such a
supposition ; but no man, woman, or child living within a
radius of ten miles would ever have fallen into this mistake.
Every one in the neighbourhood knew that "Batushka"
(papa), as he was familiarly called, was too prosaical,

NEWS AT IVANOVKA 49

practical a man to see things ethereal, that he was an irrepres-
sible talker, and that when he could not conveniently find
an audience he created one by his own imagination. This
peculiarity of his rendered me good service. Though for
some time I understood very little of what he said, and very
often misplaced the positive and negative monosyllables
which I hazarded occasionally by way of encouragement, he
talked vigorously all the same. Like all garrulous people,
he was constantly repeating himself; but to this I did not
object, for the custom — how^ever disagreeable in ordinary
society — was for me highly beneficial, and when I had
already heard a story once or twice before, it was much
easier for me to assume at the proper moment the requisite
expression of countenance.

Another fortunate circumstance was that at Ivanovka
there w^ere no distractions, so that the whole of the day and
a great part of the night could be devoted to study. My
chief amusement was an occasional walk in the fields with
Karl Karl'itch; and even this mild form of dissipation could
not always be obtained, for as soon as rain had fallen it was
difficult to go beyond the veranda — the mud precluding the
possibility of a constitutional. The nearest approach to
excitement was mushroom gathering ; and in this occupation
my inability to distinguish the edible from the poisonous
species made my efforts unacceptable. We lived so "far
from the madding crowed " that its din scarcely reached our
ears. A week or ten days might pass without our receiving
any intelligence from the outer world. The nearest post-
office was in the district town, and with that distant point
we had no regular system of communication. Letters and
newspapers remained there till called for, and were brought
to us intermittently when some one of our neighbours
happened to pass that way. Current history was thus
administered to us in big doses.

One very big dose I remember well. For a much longer
time than usual no volunteer letter-carrier had appeared, and
the delay was more than usually tantalising, because it w^as
known that war had broken out between France and
Germany. At last a big bundle of a daily paper called the
Golos was brought to me. Impatient to learn whether any

50 RUSSIA

great battle had been fought, I began by examining the
latest number, and stumbled at once on an article headed,
"Latest Intelligence: the Emperor at Wilhelmshohe ! ! ! "
The large type in which the heading was printed and the
three marks of exclamation showed plainly that the article
was very important. I began to read with avidity, but was
utterly mystified. What emperor was this? Probably the
Tsar or the Emperor of Austria, for there was no German
Emperor in those days. But no ! It was evidently the
Emperor of the French. And how did Napoleon get to
Wilhelmshohe? The French must have broken through the
Rhine defences, and pushed far into Germany. But no !
As I read further, I found this theory equally untenable.
It turned out that the Emperor was surrounded by Germans,
and — a prisoner ! In order to solve the mystery, I had to
go back to the preceding numbers of the paper, and learned,
at a sitting, all about the successive German victories, the
defeat and capitulation of Macmahon's army at Sedan, and
the other great events of that momentous time. The im-
pression produced can scarcely be realised by those who
have always imbibed current history in the homaeopathic
doses administered by the morning and evening daily papers.

By the useful loquacity of my teacher and the possibility
of devoting all my time to my linguistic studies, I made such
rapid progress in the acquisition of the language that I was
able after a few weeks to understand much of what was said
to me, and to express myself in a vague, roundabout way.
In the latter operation I was much assisted by a peculiar
faculty of divination which the Russians possess in a high
degree. If a foreigner succeeds in expressing about one-
fourth of an idea, the Russian peasant can generally fill up
the remaining three-fourths from his own intuition.

As my powers of comprehension increased, my long con-
versations with the priest became more and more instructive.
At first his remarks and stories had for me simply a philo-
logical interest, but gradually I perceived that his talk
contained a great deal of solid, curious information regarding
himself and the class to which he belonged — information of
a kind not commonly found in grammatical exercises. Some
of this I now propose to communicate to the reader.

CHAPTER IV

THE VILLAGE PRIEST

In formal introductions it is customary to pronounce in a
more or less inaudible voice the names of the two persons
introduced. Circumstances compel me in the present case
to depart from received custom. The truth is, I do not know
the names of the two people whom I wish to bring together !
The reader who knows his own name will readily pardon
one-half of my ignorance, but he may naturally expect that
I should know the name of a man with whom I profess to
be acquainted, and with whom I daily held long conversa-
tions during a period of several months. Strange as it may
seem, I do not. During all the time of my sojourn in
Ivanovka I never heard him addressed or spoken of otherwise
than as "Batushka." Now "Batushka" is not a name at all.
It is simply the diminutive form of an obsolete word mean-
ing "father," and is usually applied to all village priests.
The ushka is a common diminutive termination, and the
root Bat is evidently the same as that which appears in the
Latin pater.

Though I do not happen to know what Batushka's
family name was, I can communicate two curious facts con-
cerning it : he had not possessed it in his childhood, and
it was not the same as his father's.

The reader whose intuitive powers have been preter-
naturally sharpened by a long course of sensation novels
will probably leap to the conclusion that Batushka was a
mysterious individual, very different from what he seemed —
either the illegitimate son of some great personage, or a man
of high birth who had committed some great sin, and who
now sought oblivion and expiation in the humble duties of
a parish priest. Let me dispel at once all delusions of this
kind. Batushka was actually as well as legally the legitimate
son of an ordinary parish priest, who was still living about

51

52 RUSSIA

twenty miles off, and for many generations all his paternal
and maternal ancestors, male and female, had belonged to
the priestly caste. He was thus a Levite of the purest water,
and thoroughly Levitical in his character. Though he knew
by experience something about the weakness of the flesh,
he had never committed any sins of the heroic kind, and
had no reason to conceal his origin. The curious facts above
stated were simply the result of a peculiar custom which
exists among the Russian clergy. According to this custom,
when a boy enters the seminary he receives from the Bishop
a new family name. The name may be Bogoslavski, from
a word signifying "Theology," or Bogolubov, "the love of
God," or some similar term; or it may be derived from the
name of the boy's native village, or from any other word
which the Bishop thinks fit to choose. I know of one
instance where a Bishop chose two French words for the
purpose. He had intended to call the boy Velikoselski,
after his native place, Velikoe Selo, which means "big
village"; but finding that there was already a Velikoselski
in the seminary, and being in a facetious frame of
mind, he called the new-comer Grandvillageski — a word
that may perhaps sorely puzzle some philologist of the
future.

My reverend teacher w^as a tall, muscular man of about
forty years of age, with a full dark-brown beard, and long
lank hair falling over his shoulders. The visible parts of
his dress consisted of three articles — a dingy-brown robe
of coarse material buttoned closely at the neck and descend-
ing to the ground, a wideawake hat, and a pair of large,
heavy boots. As to the esoteric parts of his attire, I refrained
from making investigations. His life had been an unevent-
ful one. At an early age he had been sent to the seminary
in the chief town of the province, and had made for himself
the reputation of a good average scholar. "The seminary
of that time," he used to say to me, referring to that part of
his life, "was not what it is now. Nowadays the teachers
talk about humanitarianism, and the boys would think that
a crime had been committed against human dignity if one
of them happened to be flogged. But they don't consider
that human dignity is at all aiTected by their getting drunk,

CLERICAL MARRIAGES 53

and going to — to — to places that I never went to. I was
flogged often enough, and I don't think that I am a worse
man on that account ; and though I never heard then any-
thing about pedagogical science that they talk so much
about now, I'll read a bit of Latin yet with the best of
them.

" When my studies were finished," said Batushka, con-
tinuing the simple story of his life, "the Bishop found a
wife for me, and I succeeded her father, who was then an
old man. In that way I became parish priest of Ivanovka,
and I have remained here ever since. It is a hard life,
for the parish is big, and my bit of land is not very fertile ;
but, praise be to God ! I am healthy and strong, and get
on well enough."

"You said that the Bishop found a wife for you," I
remarked. "I suppose, therefore, that he was a great friend
of yours."

"Not at all. The Bishop does the same for all the
seminarists who wish to be ordained : it is an important
part of his pastoral duties."

"Indeed!" I exclaimed in astonishment. "Surely that
is carrying the system of paternal government a little too
far. Why should his Reverence meddle with things that
don't concern him?"

"But these matters do concern him. He is the natural
protector of widows and orphans, especially among the
clergy of his own diocese. When a parish priest dies, what
is to become of his wife and daughters ? "

Not perceiving clearly the exact bearing of these last
remarks, I ventured to suggest that priests ought to
economise in view of future contingencies.

"It is easy to speak," replied Batushka: "'A story is
soon told,' as the old proverb has it, 'but a thing is not
soon done.' How are we to economise? Even without
saving we have the greatest difficulty to make the two ends
meet."

"Then the widow and daughters might work and gain
a livelihood."

"What, pray, could they work at?" asked Batushka.
and paused for a reply. Seeing that I had none to offer

54 RUSSIA

him, he continued, "Even the house and land belong not
to them, but to the new priest."

"If that position occurred in a novel," I said, "I could
foretell vi'hat would happen. The author would make the
new priest fall in love with and marry one of the daughters,
and then the whole family, including the mother-in-law,
would live happily ever afterwards."

"That is exactly how the Bishop arranges the matter.
What the novelist does with the puppets of his imagination,
the Bishop does with real beings of flesh and blood. As a
rational being he cannot leave things to chance. Besides
this, he must arrange the matter before the young man takes
orders, because, by the rules of the Church, the marriage
cannot take place after the ceremony of ordination. When
the affair is arranged before the charge becomes vacant, the
old priest can die with the pleasant consciousness that his
family is provided for."

"Well, Batushka, you certainly put the matter in a very
plausible way, but there seem to be two flaws in the analogy.
The novelist can make two people fall in love with each
other, and make them live happily together with the mother-
in-law, but that — with all due respect to his Reverence be
it said — is beyond the power of a Bishop."

" I am not sure," said Batushka, avoiding the point of
the objection, "that love marriages are always the happiest
ones; and as to the mother-in-law, there are — or at least
there were until the emancipation of the serfs — a mother-in-
law and several daughters-in-law in almost every peasant
household."

"And does harmony generally reign in peasant house-
holds?"

"That depends upon the head of the house. If he is a
man of the right sort, he can keep the womenfolk in order."
This remark was made in an energetic tone, with the evident
intention of assuring me that the speaker was himself "a
man of the right sort " ; but I did not attribute much import-
ance to it, for I have occasionally heard henpecked husbands
talk in this grandiloquent way when their wives were out of
hearing. Altogether I was by no means convinced that the
system of providing for the widows and orphans of the clergy

A PRIEST'S MOTHER-IN-LAW 55

by means of mariages de convenance was a good one, but
I determined to suspend my judgment until I should obtain
fuller information.

An additional bit of evidence came to me a week or two
later. One morning, on going into the priest's house, I
found that he had a friend with him— the priest of a village
some fifteen miles off. Before we had got through the
ordinary conventional remarks about the weather and the
crops, a peasant drove up to the door in his cart with a
message that an old peasant was dying in a neighbouring
village, and desired the last consolations of religion.
Batushka was thus obliged to leave us, and his friend and
I agreed to stroll leisurely in the direction of the village
to which he was going, so as to meet him on his way home.
The harvest was already finished, so that our road, after
emerging from the village, lay through stubble-fields.
Beyond this we entered the pine forest, and by the time
we had reached this point I had succeeded in leading the
conversation to the subject of clerical marriages.

"I have been thinking a good deal on this subject," I
said, "and I should very much like to know your opinion
about the system."

My new acquaintance was a tall, lean, black-haired man,
with a sallow complexion and vinegar aspect — evidently one
of those unhappy mortals who are intended by Nature to
take a pessimistic view of all things, and to point out to
their fellows the deep shadows of human life. I was not at
all surprised, therefore, when he replied in a deep, decided
tone, "Bad, very bad — utterly bad! "

The way in which these words were pronounced left no
doubt as to the opinion of the speaker, but I was desirous
of knowing on what that opinion was founded — more
especially as I seemed to detect in the tone a note of personal
grievance. My answer was shaped accordingly.

"I suspected that; but in the discussions which I have
had I have always been placed at a disadvantage, not
being able to adduce any definite facts in support of my
opinion."

"You may congratulate yourself on being unable to find
any in your own experience. A mother-in-law living in the

36 RUSSIA

house does not conduce to domestic harmony. I don't know
how it is in your country, but so it is with us."

I hastened to assure him that this was not a pecuHarity
of Russia.

"I know it only too well," he continued. "My mother-
in-law lived with me for some years, and I was obliged at
last to insist on her going to another son-in-law."

"Rather selfish conduct towards your brother-in-law," I
said to myself, and then added audibly, "I hope you have
thus solved the difficulty satisfactorily."

"Not at all. Things are worse now than they were. I
agreed to pay her three roubles a month, and have regularly
fulfilled my promise, but lately she has thought it not
enough, and she made a complaint to the Bishop. Last
week I went to him to defend myself, but as I had not
money enough for all the officials in the Consistory, I could
not obtain justice. My mother-in-law had made all sorts of
absurd accusations against me, and consequently I was laid
under an inhibition for six weeks ! "

"And what is the effect of an inhibition?"

"The effect is that I cannot perform the ordinary rites of
our religion. It is really very unjust," he added, assuming
an indignant tone, "and very annoying. Think of all the
hardship and inconvenience to which it gives rise."

As I thought of the hardship and inconvenience to which
the parishioners must be exposed through the inconsiderate
conduct of the old mother-in-law, I could not but sympathise
with my new acquaintance's indignation. J\Iy sympathy
was, however, somewhat cooled when I perceived that I was
on a wrong tack, and that the priest was looking at the
matter from an entirely different point of view.

"You see," he said, "it is a most unfortunate time of
year. The peasants have gathered in their harvest, and can
give of their abundance. There are merrymakings and
marriages, besides the ordinary deaths and baptisms. Alto-
gether I shall lose by the thing more than a hundred
roubles ! "

I confess I was a little shocked on hearing the priest
thus speak of his sacred functions as if they were an ordinary
marketable commodity, and talk of the inhibition as a push-

THE BLAGOTCHINNY 57

ing undertaker might talk of sanitary improvements. My
surprise was caused not by the fact that he regarded the
matter from a pecuniary point of view — for I was old enough
to know that clerical human nature is not altogether in-
sensible to pecuniary considerations — but by the fact that
he should thus undisguisedly express his opinions to a
stranger without in the least suspecting that there was any-
thing unseemly in his way of speaking. The incident
appeared to me very characteristic, but I refrained from all
audible comments, lest I should inadvertently check his
communicativeness. With the view of encouraging it, I
professed to be very much interested, as I really was, in
what he said, and I asked him how in his opinion the present
unsatisfactory state of things might be remedied.

"There is but one cure," he said, with a readiness that
showed he had often spoken on the theme already, "and
that is freedom and publicity. We full-grown men are
treated like children, and watched like conspirators. If I
wish to preach a sermon — not that I often wish to do such
a thing, but there are occasions when it is advisable — -I am

expected to show it first to the Blagotchinny, and "

"I beg your pardon, who is the Blagotchinny?"
"The Blagotchinny is a parish priest, who is in direct
relations with the Consistory of the Province, and who is
supposed to exercise a strict supervision over all the other
parish priests of his district. He acts as the spy of the Con-
sistory, which is filled with greedy, shameless officials, deaf
to anyone who does not come provided with a handful of
roubles. The Bishop may be a good, well-intentioned man,
but he always sees and acts through these worthless sub-
ordinates. Besides this, the Bishops and heads of monas-
teries, who monopolise the higher places in the ecclesiastical
Administration, all belong to the Black Clergy — that is to
say, they are all monks — and consequently cannot under-
stand our wants. How can they, on whom celibacy is im-
posed by the rules of the Church, understand the position
of a parish priest who has to bring up a family and to
struggle with domestic cares of every kind? What they do
is to take all the comfortable places for themselves, and
leave us all the hard work. The monasteries are rich

58 RUSSIA

enough, and you see how poor we are. Perhaps you have
heard that the parish priests extort money from the peasants
—refusing to perform the rites of baptism or burial until a
considerable sum has been paid. It is only too true, but
who is to blame? The priest must live and bring up his
family, and you cannot imagine the humiliations to which
he has to submit in order to gain a scanty pittance. I know
it by experience. When I make the periodical visitation I
can see that the peasants grudge every handful of rye and
every egg that they give me. I can overhear their sneers
as I go away, and I know they have many sayings such as,
' The priest takes from the living and from the dead.' Many
of them fasten their doors, pretending to be away from home,
and do not even take the precaution of keeping silent till I
am out of hearing."

"You surprise me," I said, in reply to the last part of
this long tirade ; " I have always heard that the Russians are
a very religious people — at least, the lower classes."

"So they are; but the peasantry are poor and heavily
taxed. They set great importance on the sacraments, and
observe rigorously the fasts, which comprise nearly a half
of the year; but they show very little respect for their priests,
who are almost as poor as themselves."

"But I do not see clearly how you propose to remedy
this state of things."

"By freedom and publicity, as I said before." The
worthy man seemed to have learned this formula by rote.
"First of all, our wants must be made known. In some
provinces there have been attempts to do this by means of
provincial assemblies of the clergy, but these efforts have
always been strenuously opposed by the Consistories, whose
members fear publicity above all things. But in order to
have publicity we must have more freedom."

Here followed a long discourse on freedom and publicity,
which seemed to me very confused. So far as I could under-
stand the argument, there was a good deal of reasoning in
a circle. Freedom was necessary in order to get publicity,
and publicity was necessary in order to get freedom ; and
the practical result would be that the clergy would enjoy
bigger salaries and more popular respect. We had only

THE CLERGY AND THE PEOPLE 59

got thus far in the investigation of the subject, when our
conversation was interrupted by the rumbhng of a peasant's
cart. In a few seconds our friend Batushka appeared, and
the conversation took a different turn.

Since that time I have frequently spoken on this subject
with competent authorities, and nearly all have admitted that
the present condition of the clergy is highly unsatisfactory,
and that the parish priest rarely enjoys the respect of his
parishioners. In a semi-official report, which I once acci-
dentally stumbled upon when searching for material of a
different kind, the facts are stated in the following plain
language: "The people" — I seek to translate as literally as
possible — "do not respect the clergy, but persecute them
with derision and reproaches, and feel them to be a burden.
In nearly all the popular comic stories the priest, or his wife,
or his labourer is held up to ridicule, and in all the proverbs
and popular sayings where the clergy are mentioned it is
always with derision. The people shun the clergy, and have
recourse to them not from the inner impulse of conscience,
but from necessity. . . . x^nd why do the people not
respect the clergy ? Because they form a class apart ; because,
having received a false kind of education, they do not intro-
duce into the life of the people the teaching of the Spirit,
but remain in the mere dead forms of outward ceremonial,
at the same time despising these forms even to blasphemy;
because the clergy themselves continually present examples of
want of respect to religion, and transform the service of God
into a profitable trade. Can the people respect the clergy
when they hear how one priest stole money from below the
pillow of a dying man at the moment of confession, how
another was publicly dragged out of a house of ill-fame, how
a third christened a dog, how a fourth whilst officiating at
the Easter service was dragged by the hair from the altar
by the deacon ? Is it possible for the people to respect
priests who spend their time in the gin-shop, write fraudulent
petitions, fight with the cross in their hands, and abuse each
other in bad language at the altar?

"One might fill several pages with examples of this kind
— in each instance naming the time and place—without over-
stepping the boundaries of the province of Nizhni-Novgorod.

6o RUSSIA

Is it possible for the people to respect the clergy when they
see everywhere amongst them simony, carelessness in per-
forming the religious rites, and disorder in administering
the sacraments? Is it possible for the people to respect the
clergy when they see that truth has disappeared from them,
and that the Consistories, guided in their decisions not by
rules, but by personal friendship and bribery, destroy in them
the last remains of truthfulness ? If we add to all this the false
certificates which the clergy give to those who do not wish to
partake of the Eucharist, the dues illegally extracted from the
Old Ritualists, the conversion of the altar into a source of
revenue, the giving of churches to priests' daughters as a
dowry, and similar phenomena, the question as to whether
the people can respect the clergy requires no answer."

As these words were written by an orthodox Russian,*
celebrated for his extensive and intimate knowledge of
Russian provincial life, and were addressed in all seriousness
to a member of the Imperial family, we may safely assume
that they contain a considerable amount of truth. The
reader must not, however, imagine that all Russian priests
are of the kind above referred to. Many of them are honest,
respectable, well-intentioned men, who conscientiously fulfil
their humble duties, and strive hard to procure a good educa-
tion for their children. If they have less learning, culture,
and refinement than the Roman Catholic priesthood, they
have at the same time infinitely less fanaticism, less spiritual
pride, and less intolerance towards the adherents of other
faiths.

Both the good and the bad qualities of the Russian priest-
hood at the present time can be easily explained by its past
history, and by certain peculiarities of the national character.

The Russian White Clergy — that is to say, the parish
priests, as distinguished from the monks, who are called the
Black Clergy — have had a curious history. In primitive
times they were drawn from all classes of the population, and
freely elected by the parishioners. When a man was elected
by the popular vote, he was presented to the Bishop, and if
he was found to be a fit and proper person for the office, he

* Mr. Melnikof, in a Secret Report to the Grand Duke Constantine
Nikolaievitch.

THE WHITE CLERGY 6i

was at once ordained. But this custom early fell into disuse.
The Bishops, finding that many of the candidates presented
were illiterate peasants, gradually assumed the right of ap-
pointing the priests, with or without the consent of the
parishioners; and their choice generally fell on the sons of
the clergy as the men best fitted to take orders. The creation
of Bishops' schools, afterwards called seminaries, in which
the sons of the clergy were educated, naturally led, in the
course of time, to the total exclusion of the other classes.
The policy of the civil Government led to the same end.
Peter the Great laid down the principle that every subject
should in some way serve the State — the nobles as officers
in the army or navy, or as officials in the civil service; the
clergy as ministers of religion ; and the lower classes as
soldiers, sailors, or taxpayers. Of these three classes, the
clergy had by far the lightest burdens, and consequently
many nobles and peasants would willingly have entered its
ranks. But this species of desertion the Government could
not tolerate, and accordingly the priesthood was surrounded
by a legal barrier, which prevented all outsiders from enter-
ing it. Thus, by the combined efforts of the ecclesiastical
and the civil Administration, the clergy became a separate
class or caste, legally and actually incapable of mingling
with the other classes of the population.

The simple fact that the clergy became an exclusive
caste, with a peculiar character, peculiar habits, and peculiar
ideals, would in itself have had a prejudicial influence on
the priesthood; but this was not all. The caste increased in
numbers by the process of natural reproduction much more
rapidly than the offices to be filled, so that the supply of
priests and deacons soon far exceeded the demand ; and the
disproportion between supply and demand became every
year greater and greater. In this way was formed an ever-
increasing clerical Proletariat, which — as is always the case
with a Proletariat of any kind — gravitated towards the towns.
In vain the Government issued ukazes prohibiting the priests
from quitting their places of domicile, and treated as vagrants
and runaways those who disregarded the prohibition ; in vain
successive sovereigns endeavoured to diminish the number
of these supernumeraries by drafting them wholesale inro

62 RUSSIA

the army. In Moscow, St. Petersburg, and all the larger
towns the cry was "Still they come! " Every morning, in
the Kremlin of Moscow, a large crowd of them assembled
for the purpose of being hired to officiate in the private
chapels of the rich nobles, and a great deal of hard bargain-
ing took place between the priests and the lackeys sent to
hire them — conducted in the same spirit, and in nearly the
same forms, as that which simultaneously took place in the
bazaar close by between extortionate traders and thrifty
housewives. "Listen to me," a priest would say, as an
ultimatum, to a lackey who was trying to beat down the
price, "if you don't give me seventy-five kopeks without
further ado, I'll take a bite of this roll, and that will be an
end to it ! " And that would have been an end to the bar-
gaining, for, according to the rules of the Church, a priest
cannot officiate after breaking his fast. The ultimatum,
however, could be used with effect only to country servants
who had recently come to town. A sharp lackey, experienced
in this kind of diplomacy, would have laughed at the threat,
and replied coolly, "Bite away, Batushka; I can find plenty
more of your sort ! " Amusing scenes of this kind I have
heard described by old people who professed to have been
eye-witnesses.

The condition of the priests who remained in the villages
was not much better. Those of them who were fortunate
enough to find places were raised at least above the fear of
absolute destitution, but their position was by no means
enviable. They received little consideration or respect from
the peasantry, and still less from the nobles. When the
church was situated not on the State Domains, but on a
private estate, they were practically under the power of
the proprietor — almost as completely as his serfs ; and some-
times that power was exercised in a most humiliating and
shameful way. I have heard, for instance, of one priest
who was ducked in a pond on a cold winter day for the
amusement of the proprietor and his guests — choice spirits,
of rough, jovial temperament; and of another who, having
neglected to take off his hat as he passed the proprietor's
house, was put into a barrel and rolled down a hill into the
river at the bottom !

CEREMONIAL ELEMENT OF RELIGION 63

In citing these incidents, I do not at all mean to imply
that they represent the relations which usually existed be-
tween proprietors and village priests, for I am quite aware
that wanton cruelty was not among the ordinary vices of
Russian serf-owners. My object in mentioning the incidents
is to show how a brutal proprietor — and it must be admitted
that there were not a few brutal individuals in the class —
could maltreat a priest without much danger of being called
to account for his conduct. Of course such conduct was an
offence in the eyes of the criminal law; but the criminal law
of that time was very short-sighted, and strongly disposed
to close its eyes completely when the offender was an in-
fluential proprietor. Had the incidents reached the ears of
the Emperor Nicholas, he would probably have ordered the
culprit to be summarily and severely punished ; but, as the
Russian proverb has it, " Heaven is high, and the Tsar is
far off." A village priest treated in this barbarous way
could have little hope of redress, and, if he were a prudent
man, he would make no attempt to obtain it; for any annoy-
ance which he might give the proprietor by complaining to
the ecclesiastical authorities would be sure to be paid back
to him with interest in some indirect way.

The sons of the clergy who did not succeed in finding
regular sacerdotal employment were in a still worse position.
Many of them served as scribes or subordinate officials in
the public offices, where they commonly eked out their
scanty salaries by unblushing extortion and pilfering.
Those who did not succeed in gaining even modest employ-
ment of this kind had to keep off starvation by less lawful
means, and not unfrequently found their way into the prisons
or to Siberia.

In judging of the Russian priesthood of the present time,
we must call to mind this demoralising atmosphere to which
it was so long condemned, and we must also take into con-
sideration the spirit which has been for centuries predominant
in the Eastern Church — I mean the strong tendency both in
the clergy and in the laity to attribute an inordinate importance
to the ceremonial element of religion. Primitive mankind
is everywhere and always disposed to regard religion as
simply a mass of mysterious rites, which have a secret

64 RUSSIA

magical power of averting evil in this world and securing
felicity in the next. To this general rule the Russian
peasantry are no exception, and the Russian Church has
not done all it might have done to eradicate this conception
and to bring religion into closer association with ordinary
morality. Hence such incidents as the following are still
possible : A robber kills and rifles a traveller, but refrains
from eating a piece of cooked meat which he finds in the
cart, because it happens to be a fast-day ! A peasant pre-
pares to rob a young attache of the Austrian Embassy in
St. Petersburg, and ultimately kills his victim, but before
going to the house he enters a church and commends his
undertaking to the protection of the saints ! A house-
breaker, when in the act of robbing a church, finds it difficult
to extract the jewels from an Icon, and makes a vow that
if a certain saint assists him he will place a rouble's-worth
of tapers before the saint's image ! These facts are within
the memory of the last generation. I knew the young attache,
and saw him a few days before his death.

All these are of course extreme cases, but they illustrate
a tendency which in its milder forms is only too general
amongst the Russian people — the tendency to regard religion
as a mass of ceremonies which have a magical rather than a
spiritual significance. The poor woman who kneels at a
religious procession in order that the Icon may be carried
over her head, and the rich merchant who invites the priests
to bring some famous Icon to his house, illustrate this
tendency in a more harmless form.

According to a popular saying, "As is the priest, so is
the parish," and the converse proposition is equally true
• — as is the parish, so is the priest. The great majority of
priests, like the great majority of men in general, content
themselves with simply striving to perform what is expected
of them, and their character is consequently determined to
a certain extent by the ideas and conceptions of their
parishioners. This will become more apparent if we contrast
the Russian priest with the Protestant pastor.

According to Protestant conceptions, the village pastor
is a man of grave demeanour and exemplary conduct, and
possesses a certain amount of education and refinement. He

THE PROTESTANT CLERGY 65

ought to expound weekly to his flock, in simple, impressive
words, the great truths of Christianity, and exhort his
hearers to walk in the paths of righteousness. Besides this,
he is expected to comfort the afflicted, to assist the needy,
to counsel those who are harassed with doubts, and to ad-
monish those who openly stray from the narrow path. Such
is the ideal in the popular mind, and pastors generally seek
to realise it, if not in very deed, at least in appearance. The
Russian priest, on the contrary, has no such ideal set before
him by his parishioners. He is expected merely to conform
to certain observances, and to perform punctiliously the rites
and ceremonies prescribed by the Church. If he does this
without practising extortion, his parishioners are quite
satisfied. He rarely preaches or exhorts, and too often he
neither has nor seeks to have a moral influence over his flock.
I have occasionally heard of Russian priests who approach
to what I have termed the Protestant ideal, and I have even
seen one or two of them, but I fear they are not numerous.

In the above contrast I have accidentally omitted one
important feature. The Protestant clergy have in all
countries rendered valuable service to the cause of popular
education. The reason of this is not difficult to find. In
order to be a good Protestant it is necessary to "search the
Scriptures," and to do this one must be able at least to read.
To be a good member of the Greek Orthodox Church, on
the contrary, according to popular conceptions, the reading
of the Scriptures is not necessary, and therefore primary
education has not in the eyes of the Greek Orthodox priest
the same importance which it has in the eyes of the Pro-
testant pastor.

It must be admitted that the Russian people are in a
certain sense religious. They go regularly to church on
Sundays and holy-days, cross themselves repeatedlv when
they pass a church or Icon, take the Holy Communion at
stated seasons, rigorously abstain from animal food — not
only on Wednesdays and Fridays, but also during Lent and
the other long fast.s — make occasional pilgrimages to holy
shrines, and, in a word, fulfil punctiliously the ceremonial
observances which they suppose necessary for salvation.
But here their religiousness ends. They are generally pro-

D

66 RUSSIA

foundly ignorant of religious doctrine, and know little or
nothing of Holy Writ. A peasant, it is said, was once
asked by a priest if he could name the three Persons of the
Trinity, and replied without a moment's hesitation, "How
can one not know that, Bdtushka? Of course it is the
Saviour, the Mother of God, and Saint Nicholas the miracle-
worker ! "

That answer represents fairly enough the theological
attainments of a very large section of the peasantry. The
anecdote is so often repeated that it is probably an invention,
but it is not a calumny. Of theology and of what Protest-
ants term the "inner religious life," the orthodox Russian
peasant — of Dissenters, to whom these remarks do not apply,
I shall speak later — has no conception. For him the
ceremonial part of religion suffices, and he has the most
unbounded, childlike confidence in the saving efficacy of
the rites which he practises. If he has been baptised in
infancy, has regularly observed the fasts, has annually par-
taken of the Holy Communion, and has just confessed and
received extreme unction, he feels death approach with the
most perfect tranquillity. He is tormented with no doubts
as to the efficacy of faith or works, and has no fears that his
past life may possibly have rendered him unfit for eternal
felicity. Like a man in a sinking ship who has buckled on
his life-preserver, he feels perfectly secure. With no fear
for the future and little regret for the present or the past, he
awaits calmly the dread summons, and dies with a resigna-
tion which a Stoic philosopher might envy.

In the above remarks I have used the word Icon, and
perhaps the reader may not clearly understand the word.
Let me explain then, briefly, what an Icon is — a very neces-
sary explanation, for the Icons play an important part in
the religious observances of the Russian people.

Icons are pictorial, usually half-length, representations
of the Saviour, of the Madonna, or of a saint, executed in
archaic Byzantine style, on a yellow or gold ground, and
varying in size from a square inch to several square feet.
Very often the whole picture, with the exception of the face
and hands of the figure, is covered with a metal plaque,
embossed so as to represent the form of the figure and the

ICONS 67

drapery. When this plaque is not used, the crown and
costume are often adorned with pearls and other precious
stones — sometimes of great price.

In respect of religious significance, Icons are of
two kinds : simple, and miraculous or miracle-working
{t child oivorny). The former are manufactured in enormous
quantities — chiefly in the province of Vladimir, where whole
villages are employed in this kind of work — and are to be
found in every Russian house, from the hut of the peasant
to the palace of the Emperor. They are generally placed
high up in a corner facing the door, and good orthodox
Christians on entering bow in that direction, making at the
same time the sign of the cross. Before and after meals
the same short ceremony is always performed. On the eve
of fete days a small lamp is kept burning before at least one
of the Icons in the house.

The wonder-working Icons are comparatively few in
number, and are ahvays carefully preserved in a church or
chapel. They are commonly believed to have been "not
made with hands," and to have appeared in a miraculous
way. A monk, or it may be a common mortal, has a vision,
in which he is informed that he may find a miraculous Icon
in such a place, and on going to the spot indicated he finds
it, sometimes buried, sometimes hanging on a tree. The
sacred treasure is then removed to a church, and the news
spreads like wildfire through the district. Thousands flock
to prostrate themselves before the heaven-sent picture, and
some are healed of their diseases — a fact that plainly indi-
cates its miracle-working power. The whole affair is then
officially reported to the Most Holy Synod, the highest
ecclesiastical authority in Russia, in order that the existence
of the miracle-working powder may be fully and regularly
proved. The official recognition of the fact is by no means
a mere matter of form, for the Synod is well aware that
wonder-working Icons are always a rich source of revenue
to the monasteries where they are kept, and that zealous
vSuperiors are consequently apt in such cases to lean to the
side of credulity rather than that of over-severe criticism.
A regular investigation is therefore made, and the formal
recognition is not granted till the testimony of the finder

68 RUSSIA

is thoroughly examined and the alleged miracles duly
authenticated. If the recognition is granted, the Icon is
treated with the greatest veneration, and is sure to be visited
by pilgrims from far and near.

Some of the most revered Icons — as, for instance, the
Kazan Madonna — have annual fete days instituted in their
honour; or, more correctly speaking, the anniversary of their
miraculous appearance is observed as a religious holiday.
A few of them have an additional title to popular respect
and veneration : that of being intimately associated with
great events in the national history. The Vladimir
Madonna, for example, once saved Moscow from the
Tartars; the Smolensk Madonna accompanied the army in
the glorious campaign against Napoleon in 1812; and when
in that year it was known in Moscow that the French were
advancing on the city, the people wished the Metropolitan
to take the Iberian Madonna, which may still be seen near
one of the gates of the Kremlin, and to lead them out armed
with hatchets against the enemy.

If the Russian priests have done little to advance popular
education, they have at least never intentionally opposed it.
Unlike their Roman Catholic brethren, they do not hold that
"a little learning is a dangerous thing," and do not fear
that faith may be endangered by knowledge. Indeed, it is
a remarkable fact that the Russian Church regards with pro-
found apathy those various intellectual movements which
cause serious alarm to many thoughtful Christians in
Western Europe. It considers religion as something so
entirely apart that its votaries do not feel the necessity of
bringing their theological beliefs into logical harmony with
their scientific conceptions. A man may remain a good
orthodox Christian long after he has adopted scientific
opinions irreconcilable with Eastern Orthodoxy, or, indeed,
with dogmatic Christianity of any kind. In the confessional
the priest never seeks to ferret out heretical opinions; and
I can recall no instance in Russian history of a man being
burnt at the stake on the demand of the ecclesiastical authori-
ties, as so often happened in the Roman Catholic world, for
his scientific views. This tolerance proceeds partly, no
doubt, from the fact that the Eastern Church in general.

THE CLERGY AND EDUCATION 69

and the Russian Church in particular, have remained for
centuries in a kind of intellectual torpor. Even such a
fervent orthodox Christian as the late Ivan Aksakof per-
ceived this absence of healthy vitality, and he did not
hesitate to declare his conviction that "neither the Russian
nor the Slavonic world will be resuscitated ... so long
as the Church remains in such lifelessness (mertvennost'),
which is not a matter of chance, but the legitimate fruit of
some organic defect." *

Though the unsatisfactory condition of the parochial
clergy is generally recognised by the educated classes, very
few people take the trouble to consider seriously how it
might be improved. During the Reform enthusiasm w^hich
raged for some years after the Crimean War ecclesiastical
affairs were entirely overlooked. Many of the reformers of
those days were so very "advanced" that religion in all its
forms seemed to them an old-world superstition which
tended to retard rather than accelerate social progress, and
which consequently should be allowed to die as tranquilly
as possible ; whilst the men of more moderate views found
they had enough to do in emancipating the serfs and reform-
ing the corrupt civil and judicial Administration. During
the subsequent reactionary period, which culminated in the
reign of the Emperor Alexander III., much more atten-
tion was devoted to Church matters, and it came to be
recognised in official circles that something ought to be
done for the parish clergy in the way of improving their
material condition so as to increase their moral influence.
With this object in view, M. Pobedonostsev, the Procurator
of the Holy Synod, induced the Government in 1893 to
make a State grant of about 6,500,000 roubles, which should
be increased every year, but the sum was very inadequate,
and a large portion of it was devoted to purposes of political
propaganda in the form of maintaining Greek Orthodox
priests in districts where the population was Protestant or
Roman Catholic. Consequently, of the 35,865 parishes
which Russia contained, only 18,936, or a little more than
one-half, were enabled to benefit by the grant. In an

* Solovyov. Otcherki iz istorii Russkoi Literatury XIX. veka. St. Peters-
burg, 1903, p. 269.

70 RUSSIA

optimistic, semi-official statement published as late as 1896
it is admitted that "the means for the support of the parish
clergy must even now be considered insufficient and wanting
in stability, making the priests dependent on the parish-
ioners, and thereby preventing the establishment of the
necessary moral authority of the spiritual father over his
flock."

In some places the needs of the Church are attended to
by voluntary parish curatorships which annually raise a
certain sum of money, and the way in which they distribute
it is very characteristic of the Russian people, who have a
profound veneration for the Church and its rites, but very
little consideration for the human beings who serve at the
altar. In 14,564 parishes possessing such curatorships no
less than 2,500,000 roubles were collected, but of this sum
2,000,000 were expended on the maintenance and embellish-
ment of churches, and only 174,000 were devoted to the
personal wants of the clergy. According to the semi-official
document from which these figures are taken, the whole
body of the Russian White Clergy in 1893 numbered 99,391,
of whom 42,513 were priests, 12,953 deacons, and 43,925
clerks.

In more recent observations among the parochial clergy,
I have noticed premonitory symptoms of important changes.
This may be illustrated by an entry in my note-book, written
in a village of one of the Southern provinces, under date
30th September, 1903 : —

"I have made here the acquaintance of two good
specimens of the parish clergy, both excellent men in their
way, but very different from each other. The elder one,
Father Dmitri, is of the old school, a plain, practical man,
who fulfils his duties conscientiously according to his lights,
but without enthusiasm. His intellectual wants are very
limited, and he devotes his attention chiefly to the practical
affairs of everyday life, which he manages very successfully.
He does not squeeze his parishioners unduly, but he con-
siders that the labourer is worthy of his hire, and insists
on his flock providing for his wants according to their
means. At the same time he farms on his own account and
attends personally to all the details of his farming opera-

SYMPTOMS OF CHANGE 71

tions. With the condition and doings of every member of
his flock he is intimately acquainted, and, on the whole, as
he never idealised anything or anybody, he has not a very
high opinion of them.

"The younger priest. Father Alexander, is of a different
type, and the difference may be remarked even in his
external appearance. There is a look of delicacy and refine-
ment about him, though his dress and domestic surround-
ings are of the plainest, and there is not a tinge of affectation
in his manner. His language is less archaic and picturesque.
He uses fewer Biblical and semi-Slavonic expressions — I
mean expressions which belong to the antiquated language
of the Church Service rather than to modern parlance — and
his armoury of terse popular proverbs, which constitute
such a characteristic trait of the peasantry, is less frequently
drawn on. When I ask him about the present condition of
the peasantry, his account does not differ substantially from
that of his elder colleague, but he does not condemn their
sins in the same forcible terms. He laments their short-
comings in an evangelical spirit, and has apparently aspira-
tions for their future improvement. Admitting frankly that
there is a great deal of lukewarmness among them, he hopes
to revive their interest in ecclesiastical affairs and he has
an idea of constituting a sort of church committee for
attending to the temporal affairs of the village church and
for works of charity, but he looks to influencing the younger
rather than the older generation.

"His interest in his parishioners is not confined to their
spiritual welfare, but extends to their material well-being.
Of late an association for mutual credit has been founded
in the village, and he uses his influence to induce the
peasants to take advantage of the benefits it offers, both to
those who are in need of a little ready money and to those
who might invest their savings, instead of keeping them
hidden away in an old stocking or buried in an earthen
pot. The proposal to create a local agricultural society meets
also with his sympathy."

If the number of parish priests of this latter type increase,
the clergy may come to exercise great moral influence on the
common people.

CHAPTER V

A MEDICAL CONSULTATION

In enumerating the requisites for travelling in the less
frequented parts of Russia, I omitted to mention one
important condition : the traveller should be always in good
health, and in case of illness be ready to dispense with
regular medical attendance. This I learned by experience
during my stay at Ivanovka.

A man who is accustomed to be always well, and has
consequently cause to believe himself exempt from the
ordinary ills that flesh is heir to, naturally feels aggrieved
— as if someone had inflicted upon him an undeserved injury
• — when he suddenly finds himself ill. At first he refuses
to believe the fact, and, as far as possible, takes no notice
of the disagreeable symptoms.

Such was my state of mind on being awakened early
one morning by peculiar symptoms which I had never before
experienced. Unwilling to admit to myself the possibility
of being ill, I got up, and endeavoured to dress as usual,
but very soon discovered that I was unable to stand. There
was no denying the fact : not only was I ill, but the malady,
whatever it was, surpassed my powers of diagnosis; and
when the symptoms increased steadily all that day and the
following night, I was constrained to take the humiliating
decision of asking for medical advice. To my inquiries
whether there was a doctor in the neighbourhood, the old
servant replied, "There is not exactly a doctor, but there is
a Feldsher in the village."

"And what is a Feldsher? "

"A Feldsher is ... is a Feldsher."

"I am quite aware of that, but I should like to know
what you mean by the word. What is this Feldsher?"

"He's an old soldier who dresses wounds and gives
physic."

72

A VILLAGE DOCTOR 73

The definition did not predispose me in favour of the
mysterious personage, but as there was nothing better to
be had, I requested him to be sent for, notwithstanding the
strenuous opposition of the old servant, who evidently did
not believe in feldshers.

In about half an hour a tall, broad-shouldered man
entered, and stood bolt upright in the middle of the room
in the attitude which is designated in military language
by the word "Attention." His clean-shaven chin, long
moustache, and closely cropped hair confirmed one part of
the old servant's definition; he was unmistakably an old
soldier.

"You are a Feldsher," I said, making use of the word
which I had recently added to my vocabulary.

"Exactly so, your Nobility!" These words, the
ordinary form of affirmation used by soldiers to their officers,
were pronounced in a loud, metallic, monotonous tone, as
if the speaker had been an automaton conversing with a
brother automaton at a distance of twenty yards. As soon
as the words were pronounced the mouth of the machine
closed spasmodically, and the head, which had been
momentarily turned towards me, reverted to its former
position with a jerk, as if it had received the order "Eyes
front ! "

"Then please to sit down here, and I'll tell you about
my ailment." Upon this the figure took three paces to the
front, wheeled to the right-about, and sat down on the edge
of the chair, retaining the position of "Attention" as
nearly as the sitting posture would allow. When the symp-
toms had been carefully described, he knitted his brows,
and after some reflection remarked, " I can give you a dose
of . . ." Here followed a long word which I did not
understand.

"I don't wish you to give me a dose of anything till
I know what is the matter with me. Though a bit of a
doctor myself, I have no idea what it is, and, pardon me,
I think you are in the same position." Noticing a look of
ruffled professional dignity on his face, I added, as a
sedative, "It is evidently something very peculiar, so
that if the first medical practitioner in the country were

74 RUSSIA

present, he would probably be as much puzzled as
ourselves."

The sedative had the desired effect. "Well, sir, to tell
you the truth," he said, in a more human tone of voice, "I
do not clearly understand what it is."

"Exactly; and therefore I think we had better leave the
cure to Nature, and not interfere with her mode of treat-
ment."

"Perhaps it would be better."

"No doubt. And now, since I have to lie here on my
back, and feel rather lonely, I should like to have a talk
with you. You are not in a hurry, I hope?"

"Not at all. My assistant knows where I am, and will
send for me if I am required."

"So you have an assistant, have you?"

"Oh yes; a very sharp young fellow, who has been
two years in the Feldsher school, and has now come here
to help me and learn more by practice. That is a new way.
I never was at a school of the kind myself, and had to pick
up what I could when a servant in the hospital. There were,
I believe, no such schools in my time. The one where my
assistant learned was opened by the Zemstvo."

"The Zemstvo is the new local administration, is it not?"

"Exactly so. And I could not do without the assistant,"
continued my new acquaintance, gradually losing his
rigidity, and showing himself, what he really was, a kindly,
talkative man. "I have often to go to other villages, and
almost every day a number of peasants come here. At first
I had very little to do, for the people thought I was an
official, and would make them pay dearly for what I should
give them; but now they know that they don't require to
pay, and come in great numbers. And everything I give
them — though sometimes I don't clearly understand what the
matter is — seems to do them good. I believe that faith does
as much as physic,"

"In my country," I remarked, "there is a sect of doctors
who get the benefit of that principle. They give their
patients two or three little balls no bigger than a pin's head,
or a few drops of tasteless liquid, and they sometimes work
wonderful cures."

SIBERIAN PLAGUE 75

"That system would not do for us. The Russian muzhik
would have no faith if he swallowed merely things of that
kind. What he believes in is something with a very nasty
taste, and lots of it. That is his idea of a medicine ; and he
thinks that the more he takes of a medicine, the better
chance he has of getting well. When I wish to give a
peasant several doses I make him come for each separate
dose, for I know that if I did not he would probably swallow
the whole as soon as he was out of sight. But there is
not much serious disease here — not like what I used to see
on the Sheksn^. You have been on the Sheksnd ? "

"Not yet, but I intend going there." The Sheksna is
a river which falls into the Volga, and forms part of the great
system of water communication connecting the Volga with
the Neva.

"When you go there you will see lots of diseases. If
there is a hot summer, and plenty of barges passing, some-
thing is sure to break out — typhus, or black small-pox, or
Siberian plague, or something of the kind. That Siberian
plague is a curious thing. Whether it really comes from
Siberia, God only knows. So soon as it breaks out the
horses die by dozens, and sometimes men and women are
attacked, though it is not properly a human disease. They
say that flies carry the poison from the dead horses to the
people. The sign of it is a thing like a boil, with a dark-
coloured rim. If this is cut open in time the person may
recover, but if it is not the person dies. There is cholera,
too, sometimes."

"What a delightful country," I said to myself, "for a
young doctor who wishes to make discoveries in the science
of disease ! " The catalogue of diseases inhabiting this
favoured region was apparently not yet complete, but it was
cut short for the moment by the arrival of the assistant
with the announcement that his superior was wanted.

This first interview with the fcldsher was, on the whole,
satisfactory. He had not rendered me any medical assist-
ance, but he had helped me to pass an hour pleasantly, and
had given me a little information of the kind I desired. My
later interviews with him were equally agreeable. He was
naturally an intelligent, observant man, who had seen a

76 RUSSIA

great deal of the Russian world, and could describe
graphically what he had seen. Unfortunately the horizontal
position to which I was condemned prevented me from
noting down at the time the interesting things which he
related to me. His visits, together with those of Karl
Karl'itch and of the priest, who kindly spent a great part
of his time with me, helped me to while away many an hour
which would otherwise have been dreary enough.

During the intervals when I was alone I devoted myself
to reading — sometimes Russian history and sometimes works
of fiction. The history was that of Karamzin, who may
fairly be called the Russian Livy. It interested me much
by the facts which it contained, but irritated me not a little
by the rhetorical style in which it is written. Afterwards,
when I had waded through some twenty volumes of the
gigantic work of Solovyov — or Solovief, as the name is
sometimes unphonetically written — which is simply a vast
collection of valuable but undigested material, I was much
less severe on the picturesque descriptions and ornate style of
his illustrious predecessor. The first work of fiction which
I read was a collection of tales by Grigor6vitch, which had
been given to me by the author on my departure from St.
Petersburg. These tales, descriptive of rural life in Russia,
had been written, as the author afterwards admitted to me,
under the influence of Dickens. Many of the little tricks and
affectations which became painfully obtrusive in Dickens's
later works, I had no difficulty in recognising under their
Russian garb. In spite of these I found the book very
pleasant reading, and received from it some new notions —
to be afterwards verified, of course — about Russian peasant
life.

One of these tales made a deep impression upon me,
and I still remember the chief incidents. The story opens
with the description of a village in late autumn. It has been
raining for some time heavily, and the road has become
covered with a deep layer of black mud. An old woman —
a small proprietor — is sitting at home with a friend, drinking
tea and trying to read the future by means of a pack of
cards. This occupation is suddenly interrupted by the
entrance of a female servant, who announces that she has

A RUSSIAN DICKENS 77

discovered an old man, apparently very ill, lying in one
of the outhouses. The old woman goes out to see her
uninvited guest, and, being of a kindly nature, prepares to
have him removed to a more comfortable place and properly
attended to; but her servant whispers to her that perhaps
he is a vagrant, and the generous impulse is thereby checked.
When it is discovered that the suspicion is only too well
founded, and that the man has no passport, the old woman
becomes thoroughly alarmed. Her imagination pictures to
her the terrible consequences that would ensue if the police
should discover that she had harboured a vagrant. All her
little fortune might be extorted from her. And if the old
man should happen to die in her house or farmyard ! The
consequences in that case might be very serious. Not only
might she lose everything, but she might even be dragged
to prison. At the thought of these dangers the old woman
forgets her tender-heartedness, and becomes inexorable.
The old man, sick unto death though he be, must leave
the premises instantly. Knowing full w^ell that he will
nowhere find a refuge, he walks forth into the cold, dark,
stormy night, and next morning a dead body is found at a
short distance from the village.

Why this story, which was not strikingly remarkable
for artistic merit, impressed me so deeply I cannot say.
Perhaps it was because I was myself ill at the time, and
imagined how terrible it would be to be turned out on the
muddy road on a cold, wet October night. Besides this,
the story interested me as illustrating the terror which the
police inspired during the reign of Nicholas I. The
ingenious devices which they employed for extorting money
formed the subject of another sketch, which I read shortly
afterwards, and which has likewise remained in my memory.
The facts were as follows : — An officer of rural police, when
driving on a country road, finds a dead body by the wayside.
Congratulating himself on this bit of good luck, he proceeds
to the nearest village, and lets the inhabitants know that
all manner of legal proceedings will be taken against them,
so that the supposed murderer may be discovered. The
peasants are of course frightened, and give him a con-
siderable sum of money in order that he may hush up the

78 RUSSIA

affair. An ordinary officer of police would have been quite
satisfied with this ransom, but this officer is not an ordinary-
man, and is very much in need of money; he conceives,
therefore, the brilliant idea of repeating the experiment.
Taking up the dead body, he takes it away in his tarantass,
and a few hours later declares to the inhabitants of a village
some miles off that some of them have been guilty of murder,
and that he intends to investigate the matter thoroughly.
The peasants of course pay liberally in order to escape the
investigation, and the rascally officer, emboldened by
success, repeats the trick in different villages until he has
gathered a large sum.

Tales and sketches of this kind were very much in fashion
during the years which followed the death of the great
autocrat, Nicholas I., when the long pent-up indignation
against his severe, repressive regime was suddenly allowed
free expression, and they were still much read during the
first years of my stay in the country. Now the public taste
has changed. The reform enthusiasm has evaporated, and
the existing administrative abuses, more refined and less
comical than their predecessors, receive comparatively little
attention from the satirists.

When I did not feel disposed to read, and had none
of my regular visitors with me, I sometimes spent an hour
or two in talking with the old man-servant who attended me.
Anton was decidedly an old man, but what his age precisely
was I never could discover; either he did not know himself,
or he did not wish to tell me. In appearance he seemed
about sixty, but from certain remarks which he made I con-
cluded that he must be nearer seventy, though he had
scarcely a grey hair on his head. As to who his father was
he seemed, like the famous Topsy, in "Uncle Tom's Cabin,"
to have no very clear ideas, but he had an advantage over
Topsy with regard to his maternal ancestry. His mother
had been a serf who had fulfilled for some time the functions
of a lady's maid, and after the death of her mistress had
been promoted to a not very clearly defined position of
responsibility in the household. Anton, too, had been
promoted in his time. His first function in the household
had been that of assistant keeper of the tobacco-pipes, from

A LATE DOMESTIC SERF 79

which humble office he had gradually risen to a position
which may be roughly designated as that of butler. All this
time he had been, of course, a serf, as his mother had been
before him ; but being naturally a man of sluggish intellect,
he had never thoroughly realised the fact, and had certainly
never conceived the possibility of being anything different
from what he was. His master was master, and he himself
was Anton, obliged to obey his master, or at least conceal
disobedience — these were long the main facts in his con-
ception of the universe, and, as philosophers generally do
with regard to fundamental facts or axioms, he had accepted
them without examination. By means of these simple
postulates he had led a tranquil life, untroubled by doubts,
until the year 1861, when the so-called freedom was brought
to Ivanovka. He himself had not gone to the church to
hear Batushka read the Tsar's manifesto, but his master, on
returning from the ceremony, had called him and said,
"Anton, you are free now, but the Tsar says you are to
serve as you have done for two years longer."

To this startling announcement Anton had replied
coolly, "Slushayus," or, as we should say, "Yes, sir," and
without further comment had gone to fetch his master's
breakfast; but what he saw and heard during the next few
weeks greatly troubled his old conceptions of human society
and the fitness of things. From that time must be dated, I
suppose, the expression of mental confusion which his face
habitually wore.

The first thing that roused his indignation was the con-
duct of his fellow-servants. Nearly all the unmarried ones
seemed to be suddenly attacked by a peculiar matrimonial
mania. The reason of this was that the new law expressly
gave permission to the emancipated serfs to marry as they
chose, without the consent of their masters, and nearly all
the unmarried adults hastened to take advantage of their
newly acquired privilege, though many of them had great
difficulty in raising the capital necessary to pay the priest's
fees. Then came disorders among the peasantry, the death
of the old master, and the removal of the family, first to St.
Petersburg, and afterwards to Germany. Anton's mind
had never been of a very powerful order, and these great

8o RUSSIA

events had exercised a deleterious influence upon it. When
Karl Karl'itch, at the expiry of the two years, informed him
that he might now go where he chose, he replied, with a
look of blank, unfeigned astonishment, "Where can I go
to ? " He had never conceived the possibility of being
forced to earn his bread in some new way, and begged
Karl Karl'itch to let him remain where he was. This request
was readily granted, for Anton was an honest, faithful
servant, and sincerely attached to the family, and it was
accordingly arranged that he should receive a small monthly
salary and occupy an intermediate position between those
of major-domo and head watch-dog.

Had Anton been transformed into a real watch-dog he
could scarcely have slept more than he did. His power of
sleeping, and his somnolence when he imagined he was
awake, were his two most prominent characteristics. Out
of consideration for his years and his love of repose, I
troubled him as little as possible ; but even the small amount
of service which I demanded he contrived to curtail in an
ingenious way. The time and exertion required for
traversing the intervening space between his own room and
mine might, he thought, be more profitably employed ; and
accordingly he extemporised a bed in a small ante-chamber,
close to my door, and took up there his permanent abode.
If sonorous snoring be sufficient proof that the performer is
asleep, then I must conclude that Anton devoted about
three-fourths of his time to sleeping and a large part of the
remaining fourth to yawning and elongated guttural ejacu-
lations. At first this little arrangement considerably
annoyed me, but I bore it patiently, and afterw^ards received
my reward, for during my illness I found it very convenient
to have an attendant within call. And I must do Anton
the justice to say that he served me well in his own
somnolent fashion. He seemed to have the faculty of
hearing when asleep, and generally appeared in my room
before he had succeeded in getting his eyes completely open.

Anton had never found time, during his long life, to
form many opinions, but he had somehow imbibed or inhaled
a few convictions, all of a decidedly conservative kind, and
one of these was that feldshcrs were useless and dangerous

MEDICINE AND WITCHCRAFT 8i

members of society. Again and again he had advised me
to have nothing to do with the one who visited me, and mqre
than once he recommended to me an old woman of the name
of Masha, who hved in a village a few miles ofT. Masha
was what is known in Russia as a snakharka — that is to
say, a woman who is half witch, half medical practitioner —
the whole permeated with a strong leaven of knavery.
According to Anton, she could effect by means of herbs
and charms every possible cure short of raising the dead,
and even with regard to this last operation he cautiously
refrained from expressing an opinion.

The idea of being subjected to a course of herbs and
charms by an old woman, who probably knew very little
about the hidden properties of either, did not seem to me
inviting, and more than once I flatly refused to have recourse
to such unhallowed means. On due consideration, how-
ever, I thought that a professional interview with the old
witch would be rather amusing, and then a brilliant idea
occurred to me ! I should bring together the feldsher and
the znakharka, who no doubt hated each other with a
Kilkenny-cat hatred, and let them fight out their differences
before me for the benefit of science and my own delectation.

The more I thought of my project, the more I con-
gratulated myself on having conceived such a scheme ; but,
alas ! in this very imperfectly organised world of ours
brilliant ideas are seldom realised, and in this case I was
destined to be disappointed. Did the old woman's black art
warn her of approaching danger, or was she simply actuated
by a feeling of professional jealousy and considerations of
professional etiquette ? To this question I can give no
positive answer, but certain it is that she could not be in-
duced to pay me a visit, and I was thus balked of my
expected amusement. I succeeded, however, in learning
indirectly something about the old witch. She enjoyed
among her neighbours that solid, durable kind of respect
which is founded on vague, undefinable fear, and was
believed to have effected many remarkable cures. In the
treatment of syphilitic diseases, which are fearfully common
among the Russian peasantry, she was supposed to be
specially successful, and I have no doubt, from the vague

82 RUSSIA

descriptions which I received, that the charm which she
employed in these cases was of a mercurial kind. Some
time afterwards I saw one of her victims. Whether she had
succeeded in destroying the poison I know not, but she had
at least succeeded in destroying most completely the patient's
teeth. How women of this kind obtain mercury, and how
they have discovered its medicinal properties, I cannot
explain. Neither can I explain how they have come to know
the peculiar properties of ergot of rye, which they frequently
employ for illicit purposes familiar to all students of medical
jurisprudence.

The znakharka and the feldsher represent two very
different periods in the history of medical science — the
magical and the semi-scientific. The Russian peasantry
have still many conceptions which belong to the former.
The great majority of them are already quite willing, under
ordinary circumstances, to use the scientific means of heal-
ing; but as soon as a violent epidemic breaks out, and the
scientific means prove unequal to the occasion, the old faith
revives, and recourse is had to magical rites and incanta-
tions. Of these rites many are very curious. Here, for
instance, is one which had been performed in a village near
which I afterwards lived for some time. Cholera had been
raging in the district for several weeks. In the village in
question no case had yet occurred, but the inhabitants feared
that the dreaded visitor would soon arrive, and the follow-
ing ingenious contrivance was adopted for warding off the
danger. At midnight, when the male population was sup-
posed to be asleep, all the maidens met in nocturnal costume,
according to a preconcerted plan, and formed a procession.
In front marched a girl, holding an Icon. Behind her came
her companions, dragging a sokhd — the primitive plough
commonly used by the peasantry — by means of a long rope.
In this order the procession made the circuit of the entire
village, and it was confidently believed that the cholera
would not be able to overstep the magical circle thus
described. Many of the males probably knew, or at
least suspected, what was going on ; but they prudently
remained within doors, knowing well that if they should
be caught peeping indiscreetly at the mystic ceremony, they

A REMNANT OF PAGANISM 83

would be unmercifully beaten by those who were taking
part in it.

This custom is doubtless a survival of old pagan super-
stitions. The introduction of the Icon is a modern innova-
tion, which illustrates that curious blending of paganism
and Christianity which is often to be met with in Russia,
and of which I shall have more to say in another chapter.

Sometimes, when an epidemic breaks out, the panic
produced takes a more dangerous form. The people suspect
that it is the work of the doctors, or that some ill-disposed
persons have poisoned the wells, and no amount of reason-
ing will convince them that their own habitual disregard of
the most simple sanitary precautions has something to do
with the phenomenon. I know of one case where an
itinerant photographer was severely maltreated in conse-
quence of such suspicions; and once, in St. Petersburg,
during the reign of Nicholas I., a serious riot took place.
The excited populace had already thrown several doctors out
of the windows of the hospital, when the Emperor arrived,
unattended, in an open carriage, and quelled the disturb-
ance by his simple presence, aided by his stentorian voice.

Of the ignorant credulity of the Russian peasantry I
might relate many curious illustrations. The most absurd
rumours sometimes awaken consternation throughout a
whole district. One of the most common reports of this
kind used to be that a female conscription was about to take
place. At the time of the Duke of Edinburgh's marriage
with the daughter of Alexander II. this report was specially
frequent. A large number of young girls were to be kid-
napped and sent to England in a red ship. Why the ship
was to be red I can easily explain, because in the peasants'
language the conceptions of red and beautiful are expressed
by the same word (krasny), and in the popular legends the
epithet is indiscriminately applied to everything connected
with princes and great personages; but what was to be done
with the kidnapped maidens when they arrived at their
destination, I never succeeded in discovering.

The most amusing instance of credulity which I can
recall was the following, related to me by a peasant woman
who came from the village where the incident had occurred.

84 RUSSIA

One day in winter, about the time of sunset, a peasant
family was startled by the entrance of a strange visitor : a
female figure dressed as St. Barbara is commonly repre-
sented in the religious pictures. All present were very much
astonished by this apparition; but the figure told them, in
a low, soft voice, to be of good cheer, for she was St.
Barbara, and had come to honour the family with a visit
as a reward for their piety. The peasant thus favoured was
not remarkable for his piety, but he did not consider it
necessary to correct the mistake of his saintly visitor, and
requested her to be seated. With perfect readiness she
accepted the invitation, and began at once to discourse in
an edifying way.

Meanwhile the news of this wonderful apparition spread
like wildfire, and all the inhabitants of the village, as well
as those of a neighbouring village about a mile distant,
collected in and around the house. Whether the priest was
among those who came my informant did not know. Many
of those who had come could not get within hearing, but
those at the outskirts of the crowd hoped that the saint
might come out before disappearing. Their hopes were
gratified. About midnight the mysterious visitor announced
that she would go and bring St. Nicholas, the miracle
worker, and requested all to remain perfectly still during
her absence. The crowd respectfully made way for her,
and she passed out into the darkness. With breathless
expectation all awaited the arrival of St. Nicholas, who is
the favourite saint of the Russian peasantry; but hours
passed, and he did not appear. At last, towards sunrise,
some of the less zealous spectators began to return home,
and those of them who had come from the neighbouring
village discovered to their horror that during their absence
their horses had been stolen ! At once they raised the
hue-and-cry; and the peasants scoured the country in all
directions in search of the soi-disant St. Barbara and her
accomplices, but they never recovered the stolen property.
"And serve them right, the blockheads!" added my in-
formant, who had herself escaped falling into the trap by
being absent from the village at the time.

It is but fair to add that the ordinary Russian peasant,

PUBLIC HOSPITALS 85

though in some respects extremely credulous, and, like all
other people, subject to occasional panics, is by no means
easily frightened by real dangers. Those who have seen
them under fire will readily credit this statement. For my
own part, I have had opportunities of observing them merely
in dangers of a non-military kind, and have often admired
the perfect coolness displayed. Even an epidemic alarms
them only when it attains a certain degree of intensity.
Once I had a good opportunity of observing this on board
a large steamer on the Volga. It was a very hot day in
the early autumn. As it was well known that there was a
great deal of Asiatic cholera all over the country, prudent
people refrained from eating much raw fruit; but Russian
peasants are not generally prudent men, and I noticed that
those on board were consuming enormous quantities of raw
cucumbers and water-melons. This imprudence was soon
followed by its natural punishment. I refrain from describ-
ing the scene that ensued, but I may say that those who
were attacked received from the others every possible assist-
ance. Had no unforeseen accident happened, we should
have arrived at Kazan on the following morning, and been
able to send the patients to the hospital of that town ; but
as there was little water in the river, we had to cast anchor
for the night, and next morning we ran aground and stuck
fast. Here we had to remain patiently till a smaller steamer
hove in sight. All this time there was not the slightest
symptom of panic, and when the small steamer came along-
side there was no frantic rush to get away from the infected
vessel, though it was quite evident that only a few of the
passengers could be taken off. Those who w^ere nearest the
gangway went quietly on board the small steamer, and those
who were less fortunate remained patiently till another
steamer happened to pass.

The old conceptions of disease, as something that may
be most successfully cured by charms and similar means,
are rapidly disappearing. The Zemstvo — that is to say, the
new local self-government — has done much towards this end
by enabling the people to procure better medical attendance.
In the towns there are public hospitals, which generally are
— or at least seem to an unprofessional eye — in a very satis-

86 RUSSIA

factory condition. The resident doctors are daily besieged
by a crowd of peasants, who come from far and near to ask
advice and receive medicines. Besides this, in some pro-
vinces, feldshers are placed in the principal villages, and
the doctor makes frequent tours of inspection. The doctors
are generally well-educated men, and do a large amount of
work for a very small remuneration.

Of the lunatic asylums, which are generally attached to
the larger hospitals, I cannot speak very favourably. Some
of the great central ones are all that could be desired, but
others are badly constructed and fearfully overcrowded.
One or two of those I visited appeared to me to be conducted
on very patriarchal principles, as the following incident may
illustrate.

I had been visiting a large hospital, and had remained
there so long that it was already dark before I reached the
adjacent lunatic asylum. Seeing no lights in the windows,
I proposed to my companion, who was one of the inspectors,
that we should delay our visit till the following morning,
but he assured me that by the regulations the lights ought
not to be extinguished till considerably later, and conse-
quently there was no objection to our going in at once. If
there was no legal objection, there was at least a physical
obstruction in the form of a large wooden door, and all our
efforts to attract the attention of the porter or some other
inmate were unavailing. At last, after much ringing, knock-
ing, and shouting, a voice from within asked us who we
were and what we wanted. A brief reply from my com-
panion, not couched in the most polite or amiable terms,
made the bolts rattle and the door open wnth surprising
rapidity, and we saw before us an old man with long, dis-
hevelled hair, who, as far as appearance went, might have
been one of the lunatics, bowing obsequiously and muttering
apologies.

After groping our way along a dark corridor we entered
a still darker room, and the door was closed and locked
behind us. As the key turned in the rusty lock a wild
scream rang through the darkness ! Then came a yell, then
a howl, and then various sounds which the poverty of the
English language prevents me from designating — the whole

AMONGST MANIACS 87

blending into a hideous discord that would have been at
home in some of the worst regions of Dante's Inferno. As
to the cause of it I could not even form a conjecture.
Gradually my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and
I could dimly perceive white figures flitting about the room.
At the same time I felt something standing near me, and
close to my shoulder I saw a pair of eyes and long stream-
ing hair. On my other side, equally close, was something
very like a woman's night-cap. Though by no means of
a nervous temperament, I felt uncomfortable. To be shut
up in a dark room with an indefinite number of excited
maniacs is not a comfortable position. How long the
imprisonment lasted I know not — probably not more than
two or three minutes, but it seemed a long time. At last
a light was procured, and the whole affair was explained.
The guardians, not expecting the visit of an inspector at so
late an hour, had retired for the night much earlier than
usual, and the old porter had put us into the nearest ward
until he could fetch a light — locking the door behind us lest
any of the lunatics should escape. The noise had awakened
one of the unfortunate inmates of the ward, and her
hysterical scream had terrified the others.

By the influence of asylums, hospitals, and similar insti-
tutions, the old conceptions of disease, as I have said, are
gradually dying out, but the snakharka still finds practice.
The fact that the snakharka is to be found side by side not
only with the feldsher, but also with the highly trained
bacteriologist, is very characteristic of Russian civilisation,
which is a strange conglomeration of products belonging
to very different periods. The inquirer who undertakes the
study of it will sometimes be scarcely less surprised than
would be the naturalist who should unexpectedly stumble
upon antediluvian megatheria grazing tranquilly in the same
field with prize Southdowns. He will discover the most
primitive institutions side by side with the latest products
of French doctrinairism, and the most childish superstitions
in close proximity with the most advanced free-thinking.

CHAPTER VI

A PEASANT FAMILY OF THE OLD TYPE

My illness had at least one good result. It brought me
into contact with the feldsher, and through him, after my
recovery, I made some new acquaintances. Of these by
far the most interesting was an old man called Ivan Petrov.

Ivan must have been about sixty years of age, but was
still robust and strong, and had the reputation of being
able to mow more hay in a given time than any other
peasant in the village. His head would have made a fine
study for a portrait-painter. Like Russian peasants in
general, he wore his hair parted in the middle — a custom
which perhaps owes its origin to the religious pictures. The
reverend appearance given to his face by his long fair beard,
slightly tinged with grey, was in part counteracted by his
eyes, which had a strange twinkle in them — whether of
humour or of roguery, it was difficult to say. Under all
circumstances — whether in his light, nondescript summer
costume, or in his warm sheep-skin, or in the long, glossy,
dark-blue, double-breasted coat which he put on occasionally
on Sundays and holidays — he always looked a well-fed,
respectable, prosperous member of society; whilst his im-
perturbable composure, and the entire absence of obsequious-
ness or truculence in his manner, indicated plainly that he
possessed no small amount of calm, deep-rooted self-respect.
A stranger, on seeing him, might readily have leaped to
the conclusion that he must be the Village Elder, but in
reality he was a simple member of the Commune, like his
neighbour, poor Zakhar Leshkov, who never let slip an
opportunity of getting drunk, was always in debt, and, on
the whole, possessed a more than dubious reputation.

Ivan had, it is true, been Village Elder some years
before. When elected by the Village Assembly, against
his own wishes, he had said quietly, "Very well, children;

IVAN, THE VILLAGE ELDER 89

I will serve my three years " ; and at the end of that period,
when the Assembly wished to re-elect him, he had answered
firmly, "No, children; I have served my term. It is now
the turn of someone who is younger, and has more time.
There's Peter Alekseyev, a good fellow, and an honest :
you may choose him." And the Assembly chose the peasant
indicated; for Ivan, though a simple member of the Com-
mune, had more influence in Communal affairs than any
other half-dozen members put together. No grave matter
was decided without his being consulted, and there was at
least one instance on record of the Village Assembly post-
poning deliberations for a week because he happened to
be absent in St. Petersburg.

No stranger casually meeting Ivan would ever for a
moment have suspected that that big man, of calm, com-
manding aspect, had been during a great part of his life a
serf. And yet a serf he had been from his birth till he was
about thirty years of age — not merely a serf of the State,
but the serf of a proprietor who had lived habitually on his
property. For thirty years of his life he had been dependent
on the arbitrary will of a master who had the legal power
to have him flogged as often and as severely as he con-
sidered desirable. In reality he had never been subjected
to corporal punishment, for the proprietor to whom he had
belonged had been, though in some respects severe, a just
and intelligent master.

Ivan's bright, sympathetic face had early attracted the
master's attention, and it was decided that he should learn
a trade. For this purpose he was sent to Moscow, and
apprenticed there to a carpenter. After four years of appren-
ticeship he was able not only to earn his own bread, but to
help the household in the payment of their taxes, and to pay
annually to his master a fixed yearly sum — first ten, then
twenty, then thirty, and ultimately, for some years imme-
diately before the Emancipation, seventy roubles. In return
for this annual sum he was free to work and wander about
as he pleased, and for some years he had made ample use
of his conditional liberty. I never succeeded in extracting
from him a chronological account of his travels, but I could
gather from his occasional remarks that he had wandered

90 RUSSIA

over a great part of European Russia. Evidently he had
been in his youth what is colloquially termed "a roving
blade," and had by no means contined himself to the trade
which he had learned during his four years of apprentice-
ship. Once he had helped to navigate a raft from Vetluga
to Astrakhan, a distance of about two thousand miles. At
another time he had been at Archangel and Onega, on the
shores of the White Sea. St. Petersburg and Moscow were
both well known to him, and he had visited Odessa.

The precise nature of Ivan's occupations during these
wanderings I could not ascertain; for, with all his openness
of manner, he was extremely reticent regarding his com-
mercial affairs. To all my inquiries on this topic he was
wont to reply vaguely, " Lesn6e dyelo " — that is to say,
"Timber business "; and from this I concluded that his chief
occupation had been that of a timber merchant. Indeed,
when I knew him, though he was no longer a regular trader,
he was always ready to buy any bit of forest that could be
bought in the vicinity for a reasonable price.

During all this nomadic period of his life Ivan had never
entirely severed his connection with his native village or
with agricultural life. When about the age of twenty he
had spent several months at home, taking part in the field
labour, and had married a wife — a strong, healthy young
woman, who had been selected for him by his mother, and
strongly recommended to him on account of her good
character and her physical strength. In the opinion of
Ivan's mother, beauty was a kind of luxury which only
nobles and rich merchants could afford, and ordinary come-
liness was a very secondary consideration — so secondary as
to be left almost entirely out of sight. This was likewise
the opinion of Ivan's wife. She had never been comely
herself, she used to say, but she had been a good wife to
her husband. He had never complained about her want of
good looks, and had never gone after those who were con-
sidered good-looking. In expressing this opinion she always
first bent forward, then drew herself up to her full height,
and finally gave a little jerky nod sideways, so as to clench
the statement. Then Ivan's bright eye would twinkle more
brightly than usual, and he would ask her how she knew

THE PRACTICAL RUSSIAN 91

that — reminding her that he was not always at home. This
was Ivan's stereotyped mode of teasing his wife, and every
time he employed it he was called an "old scarecrow," or
something of the kind.

Perhaps, however, Ivan's jocular remark had more
signiticance in it than his wife cared to admit, for during
the first years of their married life they had seen very little
of each other. A few days after the marriage, when accord-
ing to our notions the honeymoon should be at its height,
Ivan had gone to Moscow for several months, leaving his
young bride to the care of his father and mother. The
young bride did not consider this an extraordinary hardship,
for many of her companions had been treated in the same
way, and according to public opinion in that part of the
country there was nothing abnormal in the proceeding.
Indeed, it may be said in general that there is very little
romance or sentimentality about Russian peasant marriages.
In this as in other respects the Russian peasantry are, as a
class, extremely practical and matter-of-fact in their con-
ceptions and habits, and are not at all prone to indulge in
sublime, ethereal sentiments of any kind. They have little
or nothing of what may be termed the Hermann and
Dorothea element in their composition, and consequently
know very little about those sentimental, romantic ideas
which we habitually associate with the preliminary steps to
matrimony. Even those authors who endeavour to idealise
peasant life have rarely ventured to make their story turn
on a sentimental love affair. Certainly in real life the wife
is taken as a helpmate, or in plain language a worker, rather
than as a companion, and the mother-in-law leaves her very
little time to indulge in fruitless dreaming.

As time wore on, and his father became older and frailer,
Ivan's visits to his native place became longer and more
frequent, and when the old man was at last incapable of
work, Ivan settled down permanently and undertook the
direction of the household. In the meantime his own
children had been growing up. When I knew the family
it comprised — besides two daughters who had married early
and gone to live with their parents-in-law — Ivan and his
wife, two sons, three daughters-in-law, and an indefinite and

92 RUSSIA

frequently varying number of grandchildren. The fact that
there were three daughters-in-law and only two sons was
the result of the Conscription, which had taken away the
youngest son shortly after his marriage. The two who
remained spent only a small part of the year at home. The
one was a carpenter and the other a bricklayer, and both
wandered about the country in search of employment, as
their father had done in his younger days. There was, how-
ever, one difference. The father had always shown a leaning
towards commercial transactions, rather than the simple
practice of his handicraft, and consequently he had usually
lived and travelled alone. The sons, on the contrary, con-
fined themselves to their handicrafts, and were always during
the working season members of an artel.

The artel in its various forms is a curious institution.
Those to which Ivan's sons belonged were simply temporary,
itinerant associations of workmen, who during the summer
lived together, fed together, worked together, and periodic-
ally divided amongst themselves the profits. This is the
primitive form of the institution, and is now not very often
met with. Here, as elsewhere, capital has made itself felt
and destroyed that equality which exists among the members
of an artel in the above sense of the word. Instead of form-
ing themselves into a temporary association, the workmen
now generally make an arrangement with a contractor who
has a little capital, and receive from him fixed monthly
wages. The only association which exists in this case is
for the purchase and preparation of provisions, and even
these duties are very often left to the contractor.

In some of the larger towns there are artels of a much
more complex kind — permanent associations, possessing a
large capital, and pecuniarily responsible for the acts of the
individual members. Of these, by far the most celebrated is
that of the Bank Porters. These men have unlimited oppor-
tunities of stealing, and are often entrusted with the guarding
or transporting of enormous sums; but the banker has no
cause for anxiety, because he knows that if any defalcations
occur they will be made good to him by the artel. Such
accidents very rarely happen, and the fact is by no means
so extraordinary as many people suppose. The artel, being

GO-OPERATIVE ASSOCIATIONS 93

responsible for the individuals of which it is composed, is
very careful in admitting new members, and a man when
admitted is closely watched, not only by the regularly con-
stituted office-bearers, but also by all his fellow-members
who have an opportunity of observing him. If he begins
to spend money too freely or to neglect his duties, though
his employer may know nothing of the fact, suspicions are
at once aroused among his fellow-members, and an in-
vestigation ensues— ending in summary expulsion if the
suspicions prove to have been well founded. Mutual re-
sponsibility, in short, creates a very efficient system of
mutual supervision.

Of Ivan's sons, the one who was a carpenter visited his
family only occasionally, and at irregular intervals; the
bricklayer, on the contrary, as building is impossible in
Russia during the cold weather, spent the greater part of
the winter at home. Both of them paid a large part of their
earnings into the family treasury, over which their father
exercised uncontrolled authority. If he wished to make
any considerable outlay, he consulted his sons on the sub-
ject; but, as he was a prudent, intelligent man, and enjoyed
the respect and confidence of the family, he never met with
any strong opposition. All the field work was performed
by him with the assistance of his daughters-in-law ; only
at harvest time he hired one or two labourers to help him.

Ivan's household was a good specimen of the Russian
peasant family of the old type. Previous to the Emancipa-
tion in 1861 there were many households of this kind,
containing the representatives of three generations. All the
members, young and old, lived together in patriarchal
fashion under the direction and authority of the Head of
the House, called usually the Khosa'in — that is to say, the
Administrator; or, in some districts, the Bolshdk, which
means literally "the Big One." Generally speaking, this
important position was occupied by the grandfather, or, if
he was dead, by the eldest brother, but the rule was not
very strictly observed. If, for instance, the grandfather
became infirm, or if the eldest brother was incapacitated by
disorderly habits or other cause, the place of authority was
taken by some other member — it might be by a woman —

94 RUSSIA

who was a good manager and possessed the greatest moral
influence.

The relations between the Head of the Household and
the other members depended on custom and personal
character, and they consequently varied greatly in different
families. If the Big One was an intelligent man, of decided,
energetic character, like my friend Ivan, there was probably
perfect discipline in the household, except perhaps in the
matter of female tongues, which do not readily submit to
the authority even of their owners ; but very often it hap-
pened that the Big One was not thoroughly well fitted for
his post, and in that case endless quarrels and bickerings
inevitably took place. Those quarrels were generally caused
and fomented by the female members of the family — a fact
which will not seem strange if we try to realise how difficult
it must be for several sisters-in-law to live together, with
their children and a mother-in-law, within the narrow limits
of a peasant's household. The complaints of the young
bride, who finds that her mother-in-law puts all the hard
work on her shoulders, form a favourite theme in the popular
poetry.

The house, with its appurtenances, the cattle, the
agricultural implements, the grain and other products, the
money gained from the sale of these products — in a word,
the house and nearly everything it contained — were the
joint property of the family. Hence, nothing was bought
or sold by any member — not even by the Big One himself,
unless he possessed an unusual amount of authority — without
the express or tacit consent of the other grown-up males,
and all the money that was earned was put into the common
purse. When one of the sons left home to work elsewhere,
he was expected to bring or send home all his earnings,
except what he required for food, lodgings, and other
necessary expenses ; and if he understood the word " neces-
sary " in too lax a sense, he had to listen to very plain-
spoken reproaches when he returned. During his absence,
which might last for a whole year or several years, his wife
and children remained in the house as before, and the money
which he earned could be devoted to the payment of the
family taxes.

A PEASANT HOUSEHOLD 95

The peasant household of the old type was thus a
primitive labour association, of which the members had all
things in common, and it is not a little remarkable that the
peasant conceived it as such rather than as a family. This
was shown by the customary terminology, for the Head of
the Household was not called by any word corresponding
to Paterfamilias, but was termed, as he is still, Khozdin, or
Administrator — a word that is applied equally to a farmer,
a shopkeeper, or the head of an industrial undertaking, and
does not at all convey the idea of blood-relationship. It was
likewise shown by what took place when a household was
broken up. On such occasions the degree of blood-relation-
ship was not taken into consideration in the distribution of
the property. All the adult male members shared equally.
Illegitimate and adopted sons, if they had contributed their
share of labour, had the same rights as the sons born in
lawful wedlock. The married daughter, on the contrary —
being regarded as belonging to her husband's family^-and
the son who had previously separated himself from the
household were excluded from the succession. Strictly
speaking, the succession or inheritance was confined to the
wearing apparel and any little personal effects of a deceased
member. The house and all that it contained belonged to the
little household community ; and, consequently, when it was
broken up, by the death of the Khozaln or other cause, the
members did not inherit, but merely appropriated individu-
ally what they had hitherto possessed collectively. Thus there
was properly no inheritance or succession, but simply liquida-
tion and distribution of the property among the members.
The written law of inheritance, founded on the conception of
personal property, was quite unknown to the peasantry, and
quite inapplicable to their mode of life. Thus a large and
most important section of the Code remained a dead letter
for about four-fifths of the population.

This predominance of practical economic considerations
was exemplified also by the way in which marriages were
arranged in these large families. In the primitive system
of agriculture usually practised in Russia, the natural labour-
unit — if I may use such a term — comprised a man, a woman,
and a horse. As soon, therefore, as a boy became an able-

96 RUSSIA

bodied labourer he had to be provided with the two acces-
sories necessary for the completion of the labour-unit. To
procure a horse, either by purchase or by rearing a foal, was
the duty of the Head of the House ; to procure a wife for
the youth was the duty of "the female Big One " (Bolshukha).
And the chief consideration in determining the choice was in
both cases the same. Prudent domestic administrators were
not to be tempted by showy horses or beautiful brides ; what
they sought was not beauty, but physical strength and
capacity for work. When the youth reached the age of
eighteen he was informed that he ought to marry at once,
and as soon as he gave his consent negotiations were opened
with the parents of some eligible young person. In the
larger villages the negotiations were sometimes facilitated by
certain old women called svakhi, who occupied themselves
specially with this kind of mediation ; but very often the
affair was arranged directly by, or through the agency of,
some common friend of the two houses.

Care had, of course, to be taken that there was no legal
obstacle, and these obstacles were not always easily avoided
in a small village, the inhabitants of which had been long
in the habit of intermarrying. According to Russian
ecclesiastical law, not only is marriage between first cousins
illegal, but affinity is considered as equivalent to con-
sanguinity— that is to say, a mother-in-law and a sister-in-
law are regarded as a mother and a sister — and even the
fictitious relationship created by standing together at the
baptismal font as godfather and godmother is legally recog-
nised, and may constitute a bar to matrimony. If all the
preliminary negotiations were successful, the marriage took
place, and the bridegroom brought his bride home to the
house of which he was a member. She brought nothing with
her as a dowry except her trousseau, but she brought a pair
of good strong arms, and thereby enriched her adopted
family. Of course it happened occasionally — for human
nature is everywhere essentially the same — that a young
peasant fell in love with one of his former playmates, and
brought his little romance to a happy conclusion at the altar ;
but such cases were very rare, and as a rule it may be said
that the marriages of the Russian peasantry were arranged

PEASANT MARRIAGES 97

under the influence of economic rather than sentimental
considerations.

The custom of Hving in large families has many economic
advantages. We all know the edifying fable of the dying
man who showed to his sons by means of a piece of wicker-
work the advantages of living together and assisting each
other. In ordinary times the necessary expenses of a large
household of ten members are considerably less than the
combined expenses of two households comprising five
members each, and when a "black day" comes a large
family can bear temporary adversity much more successfully
than a small one. These are principles of world-wide
application, but in the life of the Russian peasantry they
have a peculiar force. Each adult peasant possesses, as I
shall hereafter explain, a share of the Communal land, but
(his share is not sufficient to occupy all his time and work-
ing power. One married pair can easily cultivate two shares
— at least in all provinces where the peasant allotments are
not very large. Now, if a family is composed of two married
couples, one of the men can go elsewhere and earn money,
whilst the other, with his wife and sister-in-law, can cultivate
the two combined shares of land. If, on the contrary, a
family consists merely of one pair with young children, the
man must either remain at home — -in which case he may have
difficulty in finding work for the whole of his time — or he
must leave home, and entrust the cultivation of his share of
the land to his wife, whose time must be in great part
devoted to domestic affairs.

In the time of serfage the proprietors clearly perceived
these and similar advantages, and compelled their serfs to
live together in large families. No family could be broken
up without the proprietor's consent, and this consent was
not easily obtained unless the family had assumed quite
abnormal proportions and was permanently disturbed by
domestic dissension. In the matrimonial affairs of the serfs,
too, the majority of the proprietors systematically exercised
a certain supervision, not necessarily from any paltry
meddling spirit, but because their own material interests
were thereby affected. A proprietor would not, for instance,
allow the daughter of one of his serfs to marry a serf belong-

98 RUSSIA

ing to another proprietor — because he would thereby lose a
female labourer — unless some compensation were offered.
The compensation might be a sum of money, or the affair
might be arranged on the principle of reciprocity by the
master of the bridegroom allowing one of his female serfs
to marry a serf belonging to the master of the bride.

However advantageous the custom of living in large
families may appear when regarded from the economic point
of view, it has very serious defects, both theoretical and
practical.

That families connected by the ties of blood-relationship
and marriage can easily live together in harmony is one of
those social axioms which are accepted universally and
believed by nobody. We all know by our own experience,
or by that of others, that the friendly relations of two such
families are greatly endangered by proximity of habitation.
To live in the same street is not advisable; to occupy adjoin-
ing houses is positively dangerous; and to live under the
same roof is certainly fatal to prolonged amity. There may
be the very best intentions on both sides, and the arrange-
ment may be inaugurated by the most gushing expressions
of undying aflfection and by the discovery of innumerable
secret affinities, but neither affinities, affection, nor good
intentions can withstand the constant friction and occasional
jerks which inevitably ensue.

Now the reader must endeavour to realise that Russian
peasants, even when clad in sheep-skins, are human beings
like ourselves. Though they are often represented as
abstract entities — as figures in a table of statistics or dots
on a diagram — they have in reality "organs, dimensions,
senses, affections, passions." If not exactly "fed with the
same food," they are at least "hurt with the same weapons,
subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means,"
and liable to be irritated by the same annoyances, as we
are. And those of them who live in large families are sub-
jected to a kind of probation that most of us have never
dreamed of. The families comprising a large household
not only live together, but have nearly all things in common.
Each member works, not for himself, but for the household,
and all that he earns is expected to go into the family

FAMILY DISRUPTIONS 99

treasury. The arrangement almost inevitably leads to one
of two results — either there are continual dissensions, or
order is preserved by a powerful domestic tyranny.

It was quite natural, therefore, that when the authority
of the landed proprietors was abolished by the Emancipation
Edict of 1861, the large peasant families almost all crumbled
to pieces. The arbitrary rule of the Khosa'in was based on,
and maintained by, the arbitrary rule of the proprietor, and
both naturally fell together. In 1870, when I spent the
autumn at Ivanovka, large households like that of our friend
Ivan were preserved only in exceptional cases, where the
Head of the House happened to possess an unusual amount
of moral influence over the other members; and since that
time they have been rapidly disappearing.

This change has unquestionably had a prejudicial in-
fluence on the material welfare of the peasantry, but it must
have added considerably to their domestic comfort, and may
perhaps produce good moral results. For the present, how-
ever, the evil consequences are by far the most prominent.
Everv married peasant strives to have a house of his own,
and many of them, in order to defray the necessary expenses,
have recourse to the moneylenders. This is a very serious
matter. Even if the peasants could obtain money at five or
six per cent., the position of the debtors would be bad
enough, but it is in reality much worse, for the village
usurers consider twenty or twenty-five per cent, a by no
means exorbitant rate of interest. A laudable attempt has
been made to remedy this state of things by village banks,
but these have proved successful only in certain exceptional
localities. As a rule the peasant who contracts debts has a
hard struggle to pay the interest in ordinary times, and when
some misfortune overtakes him — when, for instance, the
harvest is bad or his horse is stolen — he probably falls hope-
lessly into pecuniary embarrassments. I have seen peasants
not specially addicted to drunkenness or other ruinous habits
sink to a helpless state of insolvency. Fortunately for such
insolvent debtors, they are treated by the law with extreme
leniency. Their house, their share of the common land, their
agricultural implements, their horse — in a word, all that is
necessary for their subsistence, is exempt from sequestration.

100 RUSSIA

The Commune, however, may bring strong pressure to bear
on those who do not pay their taxes. When I hved among
the peasantry in the 'seventies, corporal punishment, in-
flicted by order of the Commune, was among the means
usually employed; and though the custom has been pro-
hibited by an Imperial decree of Nicholas II., I am not
at all sure that it has entirely disappeared in real life.
Traditional usage in Russia sometimes resists successfully
even the Imperial power.

CHAPTER VII

THE PEASANTRY OF THE NORTH

IvANOVKA may be taken as a fair specimen of the villages
in the northern half of the country, and a brief description
of its inhabitants will convey a tolerably correct notion of
the northern peasantry in general.

Nearly the whole of the female population, and about
one-half of the male inhabitants, are habitually engaged in
cultivating the Communal land, which comprises about two
thousand acres of a light sandy soil. The arable part of this
land is divided into three large fields, each of which is cut
up into long narrow strips. The first field is reserved for
the winter grain — that is to say, rye, which forms, in the
shape of black bread, the principal food of the rural popula-
tion. In the second are raised oats for the horses, and buck-
wheat, which is largely used for food. The third lies fallow,
and is used in the summer as pasturage for the cattle.

All the villagers in this part of the country divide the
arable land in this way, in order to suit the triennial rotation
of crops. This triennial system is extremely simple. The
field which is used this year for raising winter grain will
be used next year for raising summer grain, and in the
following year will lie fallow. Before being sown with
winter grain it ought to receive a certain amount of manure.
Every family possesses in each of the two fields under
cultivation one or more of the long narrow strips or belts
into which they are divided.

The annual life of the peasantry is that of simple
husbandmen, inhabiting a country where the winter is long
and severe. The agricultural year begins in April with the
melting of the snow. Nature has been lying dormant for
some months. Awaking now from her long sleep, and
throwing off her white mantle, she strives to make up for
lost time. No sooner has the snow disappeared than the

L!5;";aky

UN^Ef^SlTY OF CALIFORNI/S
RIVDSIDE

102 RUSSIA

fresh young grass begins to shoot up, and very soon after-
wards the shrubs and trees begin to bud. The rapidity of
this transition from winter to spring astonishes the inhabit-
ants of more temperate cHmes.

On St. George's Day (April 23rd*) the cattle are brought
out for the first time, and sprinkled with holy water by the
priest. They are never very fat, but at this period of the
year their appearance is truly lamentable. During the winter
they have been cooped up in small unventilated cow-houses,
and fed almost exclusively on straw; now, when they are
released from their imprisonment, they look like the ghosts
of their former emaciated selves. All are lean and weak,
many are lame, and some cannot rise to their feet without
assistance.

Meanwhile the peasants are impatient to begin the field
labour. An old proverb which they all know says : "Sow
in mud and you will be a prince " ; and they always act in
accordance with this dictate of traditional wisdom. As soon
as it is possible to plough they begin to prepare the land
for the summer grain, and this labour occupies them prob-
ably till the end of May. Then comes the work of carting
out manure and preparing the fallow field for the winter
grain, which will last probably till about St, Peter's Day
(June 29th), when the hay-making generally begins. After
the hay-making comes the harvest, by far the busiest time
of the year. From the middle of July — especially from St.
Elijah's Day (July 20th), when the saint is usually heard
rumbling along the heavens in his chariot of firef— until the
end of August, the peasant may work day and night, and
yet he will find that he has barely time to get all his work
done. In little more than a month he has to reap and stack
his grain — rye, oats, and whatever else he may have sown
either in spring or in the preceding autumn — and to sow
the winter grain for next year. To add to his troubles, it
sometimes happens that the rye and the oats ripen almost
simultaneously, and his position is then still more difficult.

* With regard to Saints' days, I always give the date according to the
old style. To find the date according to our calendar, thirteen days must be
added.

t It is thus that the peasants explain the thunder, which is often heard
at that season.

PARISH FETES 103

Whether the seasons favour him or not, the peasant has
at this time a hard task, for he can rarely afford to hire
the requisite number of labourers, and has generally the
assistance merely of his wife and family; but he can at this
season work for a short time at high pressure, for he has
the prospect of soon obtaining a good rest and an abund-
ance of food. About the end of September the field labour
is finished, and on the first day of October the harvest festival
begins — a joyous season, during which the parish fetes are
commonly celebrated.

To celebrate a parish fete in true orthodox fashion it is
necessary to prepare beforehand a large quantity of braga —
a kind of home-brewed small beer — and to bake a plentiful
supply of piroghi or meat pies. Oil, too, has to be procured,
and vodka (rye spirit) in goodly quantity. At the same time
the big room of the iabd, as the peasant's house is called,
has to be cleared, the floor washed, and the table and benches
scrubbed. The evening before the fete, while the piroghi
are being baked, a little lamp burns before the Icon in the
corner of the room, and perhaps one or two guests from
a distance arrive in order that they may have on the morrow
a full day's enjoyment.

On the morning of the fete the proceedings begin by a
long service in the church, at which all the inhabitants are
present in their best holiday costumes, except those matrons
and young women who remain at home to prepare the dinner.
About midday dinner is served in each izba for the family
and their friends. In general the Russian peasant's fare is
of the simplest kind, and rarely comprises animal food of
any sort — not from any vegetarian proclivities, but merely
because beef, mutton, and pork are too expensive ; but on a
holiday, such as a parish fete, there is always on the dinner-
table a considerable variety of dishes. In the house of a
well-to-do family there will be not only greasy cabbage-
soup and kasha — a dish made from buckwheat — but also
pork, mutton, and perhaps even beef. Braga will be supplied
in unlimited quantities, and more than once vodka will be
handed round. When the repast is finished, all rise together,
and, turning towards the Icon in the corner, bow and cross
themselves repeatedly. The guests then say to their host,

104 RUSSIA

"Spasibo za khleb za sol " — that is to say, "Thanks for your
hospitahty," or more Hterally, "Thanks for bread and salt";
and the host replies, "Do not be displeased, sit down once
more for good luck " — or perhaps he puts the last part of
his request into the form of a rhyming couplet to the follow-
ing effect : "Sit down, that the hens may brood, and that
the chickens and bees may multiply ! " All obey this
request, and there is another round of vodka.

After dinner some stroll about, chatting with their friends,
or slumber in some shady nook, whilst those who wish to
make merry go to the spot where the young people are sing-
ing, playing, dancing, and amusing themselves in various
ways. As the sun sinks towards the horizon, the more grave,
staid guests wend their way homewards, but many remain
for supper and as evening advances the effects of the vodka
become more and more apparent. Sounds of revelry are
heard more frequently from the houses, and a large propor-
tion of the inhabitants and guests appear on the road in
various degrees of intoxication. Some of these vow eternal
affection to their friends, or with flaccid gestures and in
incoherent tones harangue invisible audiences ; others stagger
about aimlessly in besotted self-contentment, till they drop
down in a state of complete unconsciousness. There they
will lie tranquilly till they are picked up by their less
intoxicated friends, or more probably till they awake of their
own accord next morning.

As a whole, a village fete in Russia is a saddening
spectacle. It affords a new proof — where, alas ! no new
proof was required — that we northern nations, who know
so well how to work, have not yet learned the art of amusing
ourselves.

If the Russian peasant's food were always as good and
plentiful as at this season of the year, he would have little
reason to complain ; but this is by no means the case.
Gradually, as the harvest-time recedes, it deteriorates in
quality and diminishes in quantity. Besides this, during
a great part of the year the peasant is prevented by
the rules of the Church from using much that he
possesses.

In southern climes, where these rules were elaborated and

FASTING 105

first practised, the prescribed fasts are perhaps useful not
only in a religious, but also in a sanitary sense. Having
abundance of fruit and vegetables, the inhabitants do well
to abstain occasionally from animal food. But in countries
like Northern and Central Russia the influence of these rules
is very different. The Russian peasant cannot get as
much animal food as he requires, whilst sour cabbage and
cucumbers are probably the only vegetables he can procure,
and fruit of any kind is for him an unattainable luxury.
Under these circumstances, abstinence from eggs and milk
in all their forms during several months of the year seems
to the secular mind a superfluous bit of asceticism. If the
Church would direct her maternal solicitude to the peasant's
drinking, and leave him to eat what he pleases, she might
exercise a beneficial influence on his material and moral
welfare. Unfortunately she has a great deal too much in-
herent immobility to attempt anything of the kind, so the
muzhik, while free to drink copiously whenever he gets the
chance, must fast during the seven weeks of Lent, during
two or three weeks in June, from the beginning of November
till Christmas, and on all Wednesdays and Fridays during
the remainder of the year.

From the festival time till the following spring there is
no possibility of doing any agricultural work, for the ground
is hard as iron, and covered with a deep layer of snow. The
male peasants, therefore, who remain in the villages have
very little to do, and may spend the greater part of their
time in lying idly on the stove, unless they happen to have
learned some handicraft that can be practised at home.
Formerly, many of them were employed in transporting the
grain to the market town, which might be several hundred
miles distant ; but now this species of occupation has been
greatly diminished by the extension of railways.

Another winter occupation which was formerly practised,
and has now almost fallen into disuse, was that of stealing
wood in the forest. This was, according to peasant morality,
no sin, or at most a very venial offence, for God plants and
waters the trees, and therefore forests belong properly to no
one. So thought the peasantry, but the landed proprietors
and the Administration of the Domains held a different

io6 RUSSIA

theory of property, and consequently precautions had to be
taken to avoid detection. In order to ensure success it was
necessary to choose a night when there was a violent snow-
storm, which would immediately obliterate all traces of the
expedition ; and when such a night arrived, the operation
was commonly performed with success. During the hours
of darkness a tree would be felled, stripped of its branches,
dragged into the village, and cut up into firewood, and at
sunrise the actors would be tranquilly sleeping on the stove
as if they had spent the night at home. In recent years
the judicial authorities have done much towards putting
down this practice and eradicating the loose conceptions of
property with which it was connected.

For the female part of the population the winter used
to be a busy time, for it was during these four or five months
that the spinning and weaving had to be done, but now the
big factories, with their cheap methods of production, are
rapidly killing the home industries, and the young girls
are not learning to work at the jenny and the loom as their
mothers and grandmothers did.

In many of the northern villages, where ancient usages
happen to be preserved, the tedium of the long winter even-
ings is relieved by so-called Besedy, a word which signifies
literally conversazioni. A Beseda, however, is not exactly a
conversazione as we understand the term, but resembles
rather what is by some ladies called a Dorcas meeting, with
this essential difference, that those present work for them-
selves and not for any benevolent purpose. In old-fashioned
villages as many as three Besedy may assemble about sun-
set : one for the children, the second for the young people,
and the third for the matrons. Each of the three has its
peculiar character. In the first, the children work and amuse
themselves under the superintendence of an old woman, who
trims the torch* and endeavours to keep order. The little
girls spin flax in a primitive way without the aid of a jenny,
and the boys, who are, on the whole, much less industrious,
make simple bits of wicker-work. Formerly — I mean within
my own recollection — many of them used to make rude shoes

* The torch (lutchina) has now almost entirely disappeared and been
replaced by the petroleum lamp.

YEARLY MIGRATIONS TO TOWNS 107

of plaited bark called lapty, but these are being rapidly sup-
planted by leather boots. These occupations do not prevent
an incessant hum of talk, frequent discordant attempts to
sing in chorus, and occasional quarrels requiring the
energetic interference of the old woman who controls the
proceedings. To amuse her noisy flock she sometimes relates
to them, for the hundredth time, one of those wonderful old
stories that lose nothing by repetition, and all listen to her
attentively, as if they had never heard the story before.

The second Beseda is held in another house by the young
people of a riper age. Here the workers are naturally more
staid, less given to quarrelling, sing more in harmony, and
require no one to look after them. Some people, however,
might think that a chaperon or inspector of some kind would
be by no means out of place, for a good deal of flirtation
goes on, and, if village scandal is to be trusted, strict pro-
priety in thought, word, and deed is not always observed.
How far these reports are true I cannot pretend to say, for
the presence of a stranger always acts on the company like
the presence of a severe inspector. In the third Beseda there
is always at least strict decorum. Here the married women
work together and talk about their domestic concerns, en-
livening the conversation occasionally by the introduction
of little bits of village scandal.

Such is the ordinary life of the peasants who live by
agriculture; but many of the villagers live occasionally or
permanently in the towns. Probably the majority of the
peasants in this region have at some period of their lives
gained a living elsewhere. Many of the absentees spend
yearly a few months at home, whilst others visit their
families only occasionally, and, it may be, at long intervals.
In no case, however, do they sever their connection with
their native village. Even the peasant who becomes a rich
merchant and settles permanently with his family in Moscow
or St. Petersburg remains probably a member of the Village
Commune, and pays his share of the taxes, though he does
not enjoy any of the corresponding privileges. Once I
remember asking a rich man of this kind, the proprietor
of several large houses in St. Petersburg, why he did not
free himself from all connection with his native Commune,

io8 RUSSIA

with which he had no longer any interests in common. His
answer was, "It is all very well to be free, and I don't want
anything from the Commune now ; but my old father lives
there, my mother is buried there, and I like to go back to
the old place sometimes. Besides, I have children, and our
aifairs are commercial (nashe dyelo torgovoe), and therefore
risky. Who knows but my children may be very glad some
day to have a share of the Communal land ? "

In respect to these non-agricultural occupations, each
district has its speciality. The province of Yaroslavl, for
instance, supplies the large towns with waiters for the
traktirs, or lower class of restaurants, while the best hotels
in St. Petersburg are supplied by the Tartars of Kasmiof,
celebrated for their sobriety and honesty. One part of the
province of Kostroma has a special reputation for producing
carpenters and stove-builders, whilst another part, as I once
discovered to my surprise, sends yearly to Siberia — not as
convicts, but as free labourers — a large contingent of tailors
and workers in felt ! On questioning some youngsters who
were accompanying as apprentices one of these bands, I was
informed by a bright-eyed youth of about sixteen that he had
already made the journey twice, and intended to go every
winter. "And you always bring home a big pile of money
with you?" I inquired. "Nitchevo!" replied the little
fellow gaily, with an air of pride and self-confidence; "last
year I brought home three roubles ! " This answer was,
at the moment, not altogether welcome, for I had just been
discussing with a Russian fellow-traveller as to whether the
peasantry can fairly be called industrious, and the boy's
reply enabled my antagonist to score a point against me.
"You hear that!" he said triumphantly. "A Russian
peasant goes all the way to Siberia and back for three
roubles ! Could you get an Englishman to work at that
rate?" "Perhaps not," I replied evasively, thinking at
the same time that if a youth were sent several times from
Land's End to John o' Groat's House, and obliged to make
the greater part of the journey in carts or on foot, he would
probably expect, by way of remuneration for the time and
labour expended, rather more than six shillings f

Very often the peasants find industrial occupations with-

DOMESTIC INDUSTRIES 109

out leaving home, for various industries which do not require
compHcated machinery are practised in the villages by the
peasants and their families. Wooden vessels, wrought iron,
pottery, leather, rush-matting, and numerous other articles
are thus produced in enormous quantities. Occasionally we
find not only a whole village, but even a whole district,
occupied almost exclusively with some one kind of manual
industry. In the province of Vladimir, for example, a large
group of villages live by Icon-painting; in one locality near
Nizhni-Novgorod, nineteen villages are occupied with the
manufacture of axes; round about Pavlovo, in the same
province, eighty villages produce almost nothing but cutlery;
and in a locality called Uloma, on the borders of Novgorod
and Tver, no less than two hundred villages live by nail-
making.

These domestic industries have long existed, and were
formerly an abundant source of revenue — providing a certain
compensation for the poverty of the soil. But at present
they are in a very critical position. They belong to the
primitive period of economic development, and that period
in Russia, as I shall explain in a future chapter, is now
rapidly drawing to a close. Formerly the Head of a House-
hold bought the raw material, had it worked up at home,
and sold with a reasonable profit the manufactured articles
at the bazaars, as the local fairs are called, or perhaps at
the great annual yarmarka* of Nizhni-Novgorod. This
primitive system is now rapidly becoming obsolete. Capital
and wholesale enterprise have come into the field, and are
revolutionising the old methods of production and trade.
Already whole groups of industrial villages have fallen under
the power of middlemen, who advance money to the working
households and fix the price of the products. Attempts are
frequently made to break their power by voluntary co-
operative associations, organised by the local authorities or
benevolent landed proprietors of the neighbourhood — like
the benevolent people in England who try to preserve the
traditional cottage industries — and some of the associations
work very well; but the ultimate success of such "efforts to
stem the current of capitalism" is extremely doubtful. At

* This term is a corruption of the German word Jahrmarkf.

no RUSSIA

the same time, the periodical bazaars and yarmarki, at which
producers and consumers transacted their affairs without
mediation, are being replaced by permanent stores and by
various classes of tradesmen — wholesale and retail.

To the political economist of the rigidly orthodox school
this important change may afford great satisfaction. Accord-
ing to his theories it is a gigantic step in the right direction,
and must necessarily redound to the advantage of all parties
concerned. The producer now receives a regular supply of
raw material, and regularly disposes of the articles manu-
factured; and the time and trouble which he formerly
devoted to wandering about in search of customers he can
now employ more profitably in productive work. The
creation of a class between the producers and the consumers
is an important step towards that division and specialisation
of labour which is a necessary condition of industrial and
commercial prosperity. The consumer no longer requires to
go on a fixed day to some distant point, on the chance of
finding there what he requires, but can always buy what
he pleases in the permanent stores. Above all, the pro-
duction is greatly increased in amount, and the price of
manufactured goods is proportionally lessened.

All this seems clear enough in theory, and anyone who
values intellectual tranquillity will feel disposed to accept this
view of the case without questioning its accuracy; but the
unfortunate traveller who is obliged to use his eyes as well
as his logical faculties may find some little difficulty in
making the facts fit into the a priori formula. Far be it from
me to question the wisdom of political economists, but I
cannot refrain from remarking that of the three classes con-
cerned— small producers, middlemen, and consumers — two
fail to perceive and appreciate the benefits which have been
conferred upon them. The small producers complain that
on the new system they work more and gain less ; and the
consumers complain that the manufactured articles, if cheaper
and more showy in appearance, are far inferior in quality.
The middlemen, who are accused, rightly or wrongly, of
taking for themselves the lion's share of the profits, alone
seem satisfied with the new arrangement.

Interesting as this question undoubtedly is, it is not of

INFLUENCE OF CAPITAL m

permanent importance, because the present state of things
is merely transitory. Though the peasants may continue
for a time to work at home for the wholesale dealers, they
cannot in the long run compete with the big factories and
workshops, organised on the European model with steam-
power and complicated machinery, which already exist in
many provinces. Once a country has begun to move for-
ward on the great highway of economic progress, there is
no possibility of stopping half-way.

Here again the orthodox economists find reason for con-
gratulation, because big factories and workshops are the
cheapest and most productive form of manufacturing in-
dustry; and again, the observant traveller cannot shut his
eyes to ugly facts which force themselves on his attention.
He notices that this cheapest and most productive form of
manufacturing industry does not seem to advance the material
and moral welfare of the population. Nowhere is there more
disease, drunkenness, demoralisation and misery than in the
manufacturing districts.

The reader must not imagine that in making these state-
ments I wish to calumniate the spirit of modern enterprise,
or to advocate a return to primitive barbarism. All great
changes produce a mixture of good and evil, and at first
the evil is pretty sure to come prominently forward. Russia
is at this moment in a state of transition, and the new con-
dition of things is not yet properly organised. With
improved organisation many of the existing evils will dis-
appear. Already in recent years I have noticed sporadic
signs of improvement. When factories were first established
no proper arrangements were made for housing and feeding
the workmen, and the consequent hardships were specially
felt when the factories were founded, as was often the case, in
rural districts. Now, the richer and more enterprising manu-
facturers build large barracks for the workmen and their
families, and provide them with common kitchens, wash-
houses, steam baths, schools, and similar requisites of
civilised life. At the same time the Government appoints
inspectors to superintend the sanitary arrangements and see
that the health and comfort of the workers are properly
attended to.

112 RUSSIA

On the whole, we must assume that the activity of these
inspectors tends to improve the condition of the working
classes. Certainly in some instances it has that effect. I
remember, for example, some thirty-five years ago, visiting
a lucifer-match factory in which the hands employed worked
habitually in an atmosphere impregnated with the fumes of
phosphorus, which produce insidious and very painful
diseases. Such a thing is hardly possible nowadays. On
the other hand, official inspection, like Factory Acts, every-
where gives rise to a good deal of dissatisfaction, and does
not always improve the relations between employers and
employed. Some of the Russian inspectors, if I may credit
the testimony of employers, are young gentlemen imbued
with Socialistic notions, who intentionally stir up discontent
or who make mischief from inexperience. An amusing illus-
tration of the current complaints came under my notice when,
in 1903, I was visiting a landed proprietor of the southern
provinces, who had a large sugar factory on his estate. The
inspector objected to the traditional custom of the men sleep-
ing in large dormitories, and insisted on sleeping-cots being
constructed for them individually. As soon as the change
was made the workmen came to the proprietor to complain,
and put their grievance in an interrogative form : "Are we
cattle that we should be thus cooped up in stalls ? "

To return to the northern agricultural region, the rural
population have a peculiar type, which is to be accounted
for by the fact that they never experienced to its full extent
the demoralising influence of serfage. A large proportion
of them were settled on State domains and were governed
by a special branch of the Imperial administration, whilst
others lived on the estates of rich absentee landlords, who
were in the habit of leaving the management of their pro-
perties to a steward acting under a code of instructions. In
either case, though serfs in the eye of the law, they enjoyed
practically a very large amount of liberty. By paying a
small sum for a passport, they could leave their villages for
an indefinite period, and as long as they sent home regularly
the money required for taxes and dues, they were in little
danger of being molested. Many of them, though officially
inscribed as domiciled in their native Communes, lived per-

THE STATE PEASANTS 113

manently in the towns, and not a few succeeded in amassing
large fortunes. The etfect of this comparative freedom is
apparent even at the present day. These peasants of the
north are more energetic, more intelligent, more independent,
and consequently less docile and pliable than those of the
fertile central provinces. They have, too, more education.
A large proportion of them can read and write, and occasion-
ally one meets among them men who have a keen desire
for knowledge. Several times I encountered peasants in this
region who had a small collection of books, and twice I
found in such collections, much to my astonishment, a
Russian translation of Buckle's "History of Civilisation."

How, it may be asked, did a book of this sort find its
way to such a place? If the reader will pardon a short
digression, I will explain the fact.

Immediately after the Crimean War there was a curious
intellectual movement — of which I shall have more to say
hereafter — among the Russian educated classes. The move-
ment assumed various forms, of which two of the most
prominent were a desire for encyclopaedic knowledge, and
an attempt to reduce all knowledge to a scientific form. For
men in this state of mind. Buckle's great work had naturally
a powerful fascination. It seemed at first sight to reduce
the multifarious conflicting facts of human history to a few
simple principles, and to evolve order out of chaos. Its
success, therefore, was great. In the course of a few years
no less than four independent translations were published
and sold. Everyone read, or at least professed to have read,
the wonderful book, and many believed that its author
was the greatest genius of his time. During the first year
of my residence in Russia (1870) I rarely had a serious con-
versation without hearing Buckle's name mentioned ; and
my friends almost always assumed that he had succeeded in
creating a genuine science of history on the inductive method.
In vain I pointed out that Buckle had merely thrown out
some hints in his introductory chapter as to how such a
science ought to be constructed, and that he had himself
made no serious attempt to use the method which he com-
mended. My objections had little or no effect : the belief
was too deep-rooted to be so easily eradicated. In books.

114 RUSSIA

periodicals, newspapers, and professional lectures, the name
of Buckle was constantly cited — often violently dragged in
without the slightest reason — and the cheap translations of
his work were sold in enormous quantities. It is not, then,
so very wonderful after all that the book should have found
its way to tw^o villages in the province of Yaroslavl.

The enterprising, self-reliant, independent spirit which is
often to be found among those peasants manifests itself
occasionally in amusing forms among the young generation.
Often in this part of the country I have encountered boys
who recalled young America rather than young Russia. One
of these young hopefuls I remember well. I was waiting
at a post-station for the horses to be changed, when he
appeared before me in a sheep-skin, fur cap, and gigantic
double-soled boots — all of which articles had been made on
a scale adapted to future rather than actual requirements.
He must have stood in his boots about three feet eight
inches, and he could not have been more than twelve years
of age ; but he had already learned to look upon life as a
serious business, wore a commanding air, and knitted his
innocent little brows as if the cares of an empire weighed
on his diminutive shoulders. Though he was to act as
yai7istchik, he had to leave the putting in of the horses to
larger specimens of the human species, but he took care
that all was done properly. Putting one of his big boots
a little in advance, and drawing himself up to his full short-
ness, he watched the operation attentively, as if the smallness
of his stature had nothing to do with his inactivity. When
all was ready, he climbed up to his seat, and at a signal
from the station-keeper, who watched with paternal pride all
the movements of the little prodigy, we dashed off at a pace
rarely attained by post-horses. He had the faculty of emit-
ting a peculiar sound — something between a whir and a
whistle — that appeared to have a magical effect on the team,
and every few minutes he employed this incentive. The
road was rough, and at every jolt he was shot upwards into
the air, but he always fell back into his proper position,
and never lost for a moment his self-possession or his
balance. At the end of the journey I found we had made
nearly fourteen miles within the hour.

PEOPLE WHO "PLAY PRANKS" 115

Unfortunately this energetic, enterprising spirit some-
times takes an illegitimate direction. Not only whole
villages, but even whole districts have in this way acquired
a bad reputation for robbery, the manufacture of paper-
money, and similar offences against the criminal law. In
popular parlance, these localities are said to contain "people
who play pranks " {narod shalit). I must, however, remark
that, if I may judge by my own experience, these so-called
"playful" tendencies are greatly exaggerated. Though I
have travelled many hundreds of miles at night on lonely
roads, I was never robbed or in any way molested. Once,
indeed, when travelling at night in a tarantass, I discovered
on awaking that my driver was bending over me, and had
introduced his hand into one of my pockets; but the incident
ended without serious consequences. When I caught the
delinquent hand, and demanded an explanation from the
owner, he replied, in an apologetic, caressing tone, that the
night was cold, and he wished to warm his fingers; and
when I advised him to use for that purpose his own pockets
rather than mine, he promised to act in future according to
my advice. More than once, it is true, I believed that I
was in danger of being attacked, but on every occasion my
fears turned out to be unfounded, and sometimes the catas-
trophe was ludicrous rather than tragical. Let the following
serve as an illustration.

I had occasion to traverse, in company with a Russian
friend, the country lying to the east of the river Vetluga, in
the province of Kostrom^ — a land of forest and morass, with
here and there a patch of cultivation. The majority of the
population were Tcheremiss, a Finnish tribe; but near the
banks of the river there were villages of Russian peasants,
and these latter had the reputation of "playing pranks."
When we were on the point of starting from Kozmode-
miansk, a town on the bank of the Volga, we received a
visit from an officer of rural police, who painted in very
sombre colours the habits and moral character — or, more
properly, immoral character — of the people whose acquaint-
ance we were about to make. He related with melodramatic
gesticulation his encounters with malefactors belonging to
the villages through which we had to pass, and ended the

ii6 RUSSIA

interview with a strong recommendation to us not to travel
at night, and to keep at all times our eyes open and our
revolvers ready. The effect of his narrative was con-
siderably diminished by the prominence of the moral, which
was to the effect that there never had been a police officer
who had shown so much zeal, energy, and courage in the
discharge of his duty as the worthy man before us. We
considered it, however, advisable to remember his hint about
keeping our eyes open.

In spite of our intention of being very cautious, it was
already dark when we arrived at the village which was to
be our halting-place for the night, and it seemed at first as
if we should be obliged to spend the night in the open air.
The inhabitants had already retired to rest, and refused to
open their doors to unknown travellers. At length an old
woman, more hospitable than her neighbours, or more
anxious to earn an honest penny, consented to let us pass
the night in an outer apartment (seni), and this permission
we gladly accepted. Mindful of the warnings of the police
officer, we barricaded the two doors and the window, and
the precaution was evidently not superfluous, for almost as
soon as the light was extinguished, we could hear that an
attempt was being made stealthily to effect an entrance.
Notwithstanding my efforts to remain awake and on the
watch, I at last fell asleep, and was suddenly aroused by
someone grasping me tightly by the arm. Instantly I
sprang to my feet and endeavoured to close with my invisible
assailant. In vain ! He dexterously eluded my grasp, and
I stumbled over my portmanteau, which was lying on the
floor; but my prompt action revealed who the intruder was,
by producing a wild flutter and a frantic cackling ! Before
my companion could strike a light the mysterious attack
was fully explained. The supposed midnight robber and
possible assassin was simply a peaceable hen that had gone
to roost on my arm, and, on finding her position unsteady,
had dug her claws into what she mistook for a roosting
pole !

When speaking of the peasantry of the north I have
hitherto had in view the inhabitants of the provinces of
Old-Novgorod, Tver, Yaroslavl, Nizhni-Novgorod, Kos-

THE FAR NORTH 117

troma, Kazan, and V'iatka, and I have founded my remarks
chiefly on information collected on the spot. Beyond this
lies what may be called the Far North. Though I cannot
profess to have the same personal acquaintance with the
peasantry of that region, I may perhaps be allowed to insert
here some information regarding them which I collected
from various trustworthy sources.

If we draw a wavy line eastward from a point a little
to the north of St. Petersburg, as in the map showing
Zones of Vegetation, we shall have between that line and
the Polar Ocean what may be regarded as a distinct,
peculiar region, differing in many respects from the rest of
Russia. Throughout the whole of it the climate is very
severe. For about half of the year the ground is covered
by deep snow, and the rivers are frozen. By far the greater
part of the land is occupied by forests of pine, fir, larch,
and birch, or by vast, unfathomable morasses. The arable
land and pasturage taken together form only about one and
a half per cent, of the area. The population is scarce — little
more than one to the English square mile — and settled chiefly
along the banks of the rivers. The peasantry support them-
selves by fishing, hunting, felling and floating timber, pre-
paring tar and charcoal, cattle-breeding, and, in the extreme
north, breeding reindeer.

These are their chief occupations, but the people do not
entirely neglect agriculture. They make the most of their
short summer by means of a peculiar and ingenious mode
of farming, well adapted to the peculiar local conditions.
The peasant knows, of course, nothing about agronomical
chemistry, but he, as well as his forefathers, have observed
that if wood be burnt on a field, and the ashes be mixed
with the soil, a good harvest may be confidently expected.
On this simple principle his system of farming is based.
When spring comes round and the leaves begin to appear
on the trees, a band of peasants, armed with their hatchets,
proceed to some spot in the woods previously fixed upon.
Here they begin to make a clearing. This is no easy matter,
for tree-felling is hard and tedious work; but the process
does not take so much time as might be expected, for the
workmen have been brought up to the trade, and wield

ii8 RUSSIA

their axes with marvellous dexterity. When they have felled
all the trees, great and small, they return to their homes,
and think no more about their clearing till the autumn,
when they return, in order to strip the fallen trees of
their branches, to pick out what they require for building
purposes or firewood, and to pile up the remainder in
heaps. The logs for building or firewood are dragged away
by horses as soon as the first fall of snow has made a good
slippery road, but the piles are allowed to remain till the
following spring, when they are stirred up with long poles
and ignited. The flames rapidly spread in all directions till
they join together and form a gigantic bonfire, such as is
never seen in more densely populated countries. If the fire
does its work properly, the whole of the space is covered
with a layer of ashes ; and when these have been slightly
mixed with soil by means of a light plough, the seed is
sown.

On the field prepared in this original fashion is sown
barley, rye, or flax; and the harvests, nearly always good,
sometimes border on the miraculous. Barley or rye may
be expected to produce about sixfold in ordinary years, and
they may produce as much as thirtyfold under peculiarly
favourable circumstances. The fertility is, however, short-
lived. If the soil is poor and stony, not more than two
crops can be raised ; if it is of a better quality, it may give
tolerable harvests for six or seven successive years. In most
countries this would be an absurdly expensive way of
manuring, for wood is much too valuable a commodity to
be used for such a purpose; but in this northern region the
forests are boundless, and in the districts where there is no
river or stream by which timber may be floated, the trees
not used in this way rot from old age. Under these circum-
stances the system is reasonable, but it must be admitted
that it does not give a very large return for the amount of
labour expended, and in bad seasons it gives almost no
return at all.

The other sources of revenue are scarcely less precarious.
With his gun and a little parcel of provisions, the peasant
wanders about in the trackless forests, and too often returns
after many days with a very light bag; or he starts in autumn

FISHING IN THE FAR NORTH 119

for some distant lake, and comes back after five or six weeks
with nothing better than perch and pike. Sometimes he
tries his luck at deep-sea fishing. In this case he starts in
February — probably on foot — for Kem, on the shore of the
White Sea, or perhaps for the more distant Kola, situated
on a small river which falls into the Arctic Ocean. There,
in company with three or four comrades, he starts on a
fishing cruise along the Murman coast, or, it may be, off
the coast of Spitzbergen. His gains will depend on the
amount caught, for it is a joint venture; but in no case can
thev be very great, for three-fourths of the fish brought into
port belong to the owner of the craft and tackle. Of the
sum realised, he brings home perhaps only a small part,
for he has a strong temptation to buy rum, tea, and other
luxuries, which are very dear in those northern latitudes.
If the fishing is good and he resists temptation, he may save
as much as 100 roubles — about ^10 — and thereby live com-
fortably all the winter; but if the fishing season is bad, he
may find himself at the end of it not only with empty
pockets, but in debt to the owner of the boat. This debt
he may pay ofT, if he has a horse, by transporting the dried
fish to Kargopol, St. Petersburg, or some other market.

It is here in the Far North that the ancient folklore —
popular songs, stories, and fragments of epic poetry — has
been best preserved ; but this is a field on which I need not
enter, for the reader can easily find all that he mav desire to
know on the subject in the brilliant writings of M. Rambaud
and the very interesting, conscientious works of the late Mr.
Ralston,* which enjoy a high reputation in Russia.

* Rambaud, " La. Russie Epique," Paris, 1876 ; Ralston, " The Songs of
the Russian People," London, 1872 ; and " Russian Folk-Tales," London,
1873-

CHAPTER VIII

THE MIR, OR VILLAGE COMMUNITY

When I had gained a clear notion of the family life and
occupations of the peasantry, I turned my attention to the
constitution of the village. This was a subject which
specially interested me, because I was aware that the Mir
is the most peculiar of Russian institutions. Long before
visiting Russia I had looked into Haxthausen's celebrated
work, by which the peculiarities of the Russian village
system were first made known to Western Europe, and
during my stay in St. Petersburg I had often been informed
by intelligent, educated Russians that the rural Commune
presented a practical solution of many difficult social
problems with which the philosophers and statesmen of the
West had long been vainly struggling. "The nations of
the West " — such was the substance of innumerable dis-
courses which I had heard — "are at present on the high
road to political and social anarchy, and England has the
unenviable distinction of being foremost in the race. The
natural increase of population, together with the expropria-
tion of the small landholders by the great landed proprietors,
has created a dangerous and ever-increasing proletariat — a
great disorganised mass of human beings, without homes,
without permanent domicile, without property of any kind,
without any stake in the existing institutions. Part of these
gain a miserable pittance as agricultural labourers, and live
in a condition infinitely worse than serfage. The others
have been for ever uprooted from the soil, and have collected
in the large towns, where they earn a precarious living in
the factories and workshops, or swell the ranks of the
criminal classes. In England you have no longer a
peasantry in the proper sense of the term, and unless some
radical measures be very soon adopted, you will never be
able to create such a class, for men who have been long

RUSSIA

Zones of Vegetation ' x

Minerals and
Principal railways

A SOMBRE PICTURE 121

exposed to the unwholesome influences of town life are
physically and morally incapable of becoming agricul-
turists.

"Hitherto," the disquisition proceeded, "England has
enjoyed, in consequence of her geographical position, her
political freedom, and her vast natural deposits of coal and
iron, a wholly exceptional position in the industrial world.
Fearing no competition, she has proclaimed the principles
of Free Trade, and has inundated the world with her manu-
factures— using unscrupulously her powerful navy and all the
other forces at her command for breaking down every barrier
which might check the flood sent forth from Manchester
and Birmingham. In that way her hungry proletariat has
been fed. But the industrial supremacy of England is draw-
ing to a close. The nations have discovered the perfidious
fallacy of Free Trade principles, and are now learning to
manufacture for their own wants, instead of paying England
enormous sums to manufacture for them. Very soon English
goods will no longer find foreign markets, and how will
the hungry proletariat then be fed ? Already the grain pro-
duction of England is far from sufficient for the wants of
the population, so that, even when the harvest is exception-
ally abundant, enormous quantities of w^heat are imported
from all cjuarters of the globe. Hitherto this grain has been
paid for by the manufactured goods annually exported, but
how will it be procured when these goods are no longer
wanted by foreign consumers ? And what then will the
hungry proletariat do ? " *

This sombre picture of England's future had often been
presented to me, and on nearly every occasion I had been
assured that Russia had been saved from these terrible evils
by the rural Commune — an institution which, in spite of its
simplicity and incalculable utility, West-Europeans seemed
utterly incapable of understanding and appreciating.

The reader wall now easily conceive with what interest
I took to studying this wonderful institution, and with what
energy I prosecuted my researches. An institution which

* This passage was written, precisely as it stands, long before the fiscal
question was raised by Mr. Chamberlain. It will be found in the first
edition of this work, published in 1877. (Vol. I., pp. 179-81.)

122 RUSSIA

professes to solve satisfactorily the most difficult social
problems of the future is not to be met with every day, even
in Russia, which is specially rich in material for the student
of social science.

On my arrival at Ivanovka my knowledge of the institu-
tion was of that vague, superficial kind which is commonly
derived from men who are fonder of sweeping generalisations
and rhetorical declamation than of serious, patient study of
phenomena. I knew that the chief personage in a Russian
village is the Selski Stdrosta, or Village Elder, and that all
important Communal affairs are regulated by the Selski
Skhod, or Village Assembly. Further, I was aware that
the land in the vicinity of the village belongs to the Com-
mune, and is distributed periodically among the members
in such a way that every able-bodied peasant possesses
a share sufficient, or nearly sufficient, for his mainten-
ance. Beyond this elementary information I knew little or
nothing.

My first attempt at extending my knowledge was not very
successful. Hoping that my friend Ivan might be able to
assist me, and knowing that the popular name for the Com-
mune is Mir, which means also "the world," I put to him
the direct, simple question, "What is the Mir?"

Ivan was not easily disconcerted, but for once he looked
puzzled, and stared at me vacantly. When I endeavoured
to explain to him my question, he simply knitted his brows
and scratched the back of his head. This latter movement
is the Russian peasant's method of accelerating cerebral
action ; but in the present instance it had no practical result.
In spite of his efforts, Ivan could not get much farther than
the "Kak vam skazat'?" that is to say, "How am I to tell
you ? "

It was not difficult to perceive that I had adopted an
utterly false method of investigation, and a moment's re-
flection sufficed to show me the absurdity of my question.
I had asked from an uneducated man a philosophical
definition, instead of extracting from him material in the
form of concrete facts, and constructing therefrom a defini-
tion for myself. These concrete facts Ivan was both able
and willing to supply; and as soon as I adopted a rational

THEORY OF THE MIR 123

mode of questioning, I obtained from him all I wanted.
The information he gave me, together with the results of
much subsequent conversation and reading, I now propose
to present to the reader in my own words.

The peasant family of the old type is, as we have just
seen, a kind of primitive labour association, in which the
members have nearly all things in common. The village
may be roughly described as a primitive labour association
on a larger scale.

Between these two social units there are many points of
analogy. In both there are common interests and common
responsibilities. In both there is a principal personage, who
is in a certain sense ruler within, and representative as
regards the outside world : in the one case called Khosdin,
or Head of the Household, and in the other Stdrosta, or
Village Elder. In both the authority of the ruler is limited :
in the one case by the adult members of the family, and in
the other by the Heads of Households. In both there is a
certain amount of common property : in the one case the
house and nearly all that it contains, and in the other the
arable land and possibly a little pasturage. In both cases
there is a certain amount of common responsibility : in the
one case for all the debts, and in the other for all the
taxes and Communal obligations. And both are protected
to a certain extent against the ordinary legal consequences
of insolvency, for the family cannot be deprived of its
house or necessary agricultural implements, and the
Commune cannot be deprived of its land, by importunate
creditors.

On the other hand, there are many important points of
contrast. The Commune is, of course, much larger than
the family, and the mutual relations of its members are by
no means so closely interwoven. The members of a family
all farm together, and those of them who earn money from
other sources are expected to put their savings into the
common purse; whilst the households composing a Com-
mune farm independently, and pay into the common treasury
only a certain fixed sum.

From these brief remarks the reader will at once perceive
that a Russian village is something very different from a

124 RUSSIA

village in our sense of the term, and that the villagers are
bound together by ties quite unknown to the English rural
population. A family living in an English village has little
reason to take an interest in the affairs of its neighbours.
The isolation of the individual families is never quite per-
fect, for man, being a social animal, takes necessarily a
certain interest in the affairs of those around him, and this
social duty is sometimes fulfilled by the weaker sex with
more zeal than is absolutely indispensable to the public
welfare ; but families may live for many years in the same
village without ever becoming conscious of common interests.
So long as the Jones family do not commit any culpable
breach of public order, such as putting obstructions on the
highway or habitually setting their house on fire, their neigh-
bour Brown takes probably no interest in their affairs, and
has no ground for interfering with their perfect liberty of
action. Amongst the families composing a Russian village
such a state of isolation is impossible. The Heads of House-
holds must often meet together and consult in the Village
Assembly, and their daily occupations must be influenced by
the Communal decrees. They cannot begin to mow the hay
or plough the fallow field until the Village Assembly has
passed a resolution on the subject. Under the old system,
if a peasant became a drunkard, or took some equally
efficient means to become insolvent, every family in the
village had a right to complain, not merely in the interests
of public morality, but from selfish motives, because all the
families were collectively responsible for his taxes. This
common responsibility for the taxes was abolished by the
Emperor in 1903, on the advice of M. Witte, and the
other Communal fetters were afterwards gradually relaxed
by the Duma, under the influence of M. Stolypin, who
was an energetic opponent of the old Communal system.
A peasant may now, if he wishes, cease to be a member
of the Commune altogether, as soon as he has defrayed
all his outstanding obligations, or he may insist on his
share of the Communal land being converted into private
property.

For the reason given above no peasant could permanently
leave the village without the consent of the Commune, and

DEVIATIONS FROM THEORY 125

this consent would not be granted until the applicant gave
satisfactory security for the fulfilment of his actual and
future liabilities. If a peasant wished to go away for a short
time, in order to work elsewhere, he had to obtain a written
permission, which served him as a passport during his
absence ; and he might be recalled at any moment by a
Communal decree. In reality he was rarely recalled so long
as he sent home regularly the full amount of his taxes —
including the dues which he had to pay for the temporary
passport — but sometimes the Commune used the power of
recall for purposes of extortion. If it became known, for
instance, that an absent member was receiving a good salary
or otherwise making money, he might one day receive a
formal order to return at once to his native village, but he
was probably informed at the same time, unofficially, that
his presence would be dispensed with if he would send to
the Commune a certain specified sum. The money thus
sent was generally used by the Commune for convivial
purposes. With the relaxing of the Communal fetters
already referred to, and of which I shall have occasion to
speak later, this abuse should disappear.

In all countries the theory of government and administra-
tion differs considerably from the actual practice. Nowhere
is this difference greater than in Russia, and in no Russian
institution is it greater than in the Village Commune. It is
necessary, therefore, to know both theory and practice ; and
it is well to begin with the former, because it is the simpler
of the two. When we have once thoroughly mastered the
theory, it is easy to understand the deviations that are made
to suit peculiar local conditions.

According, then, to theory, all male peasants in every
part of the Empire are inscribed in census lists, which form
the basis of the direct taxation. These lists are revised at
irregular intervals, and all males alive at the time of the
"revision," from the new-born babe to the centenarian, are
duly inscribed. Each Commune has a list of this kind, and
pays to the Government an annual sum proportionate to the
number of names which the list contains, or, in popular
language, according to the number of "revision souls."
During the intervals between the revisions the financial

126 RUSSIA

authorities take no notice of the births and deaths. A Com-
mune which has a hundred male members at the time of
the revision may have in a few years considerably more or
considerably less than that number, but it has to pay taxes
for a hundred members all the same until a new revision
is made for the whole Empire.

Now, in Russia, so far at least as the rural population is
concerned, the payment of taxes is inseparably connected
with the possession of land. Every peasant who pays taxes
is supposed to have a share of the land belonging to the
Commune. If the Communal revision lists contain a hun-
dred names, the Communal land ought to be divided into
a hundred shares, and each "revision soul " should enjoy
his share in return for the taxes which he pays.

The reader who has followed my explanations up to this
point may naturally conclude that the taxes paid by the
peasants are in reality a species of rent for the land which
they enjoy. Such a conclusion would not be altogether
justified. When a man rents a bit of land he acts accord-
ing to his own judgment, and makes a voluntary contract
with the proprietor; but the Russian peasant is obliged to
pay his taxes whether he desires to enjoy land or not. The
theory, therefore, that the taxes are simply the rent of the
land will not bear even superficial examination. Equally
untenable is the theory that they are a species of land tax.
In any reasonable system of land dues the yearly sum im-
posed bears some kind of proportion to the quantity and
quality of the land enjoyed; but in Russia it may be that
the members of one Commune possess six acres of bad land,
and the members of the neighbouring Commune seven acres
of good land, and yet the taxes in both cases are the same.
The truth is that the taxes are personal, and are calculated
according to the number of male "souls," and the Govern-
ment does not take the trouble to inquire how the Communal
land is distributed. The Commune has to pay into the
Imperial Treasury a fixed yearly sum, according to the
number of its "revision souls," and distributes the land
among its members as it thinks fit.

How, then, does the Commune distribute the land? To
this question it is impossible to reply in brief, general terms,

THE BURDEN OF LAND 127

because each Commune acts as it pleases.* Some act strictly-
according to the theory. These divide their land at the time
of the revision into a number of portions or shares corre-
sponding to the number of revision souls, and give to each
family a number of shares corresponding to the number of
revision souls which it contains. This is from the adminis-
trative point of view by far the simplest system. The census
list determines how much land each family will enjoy, and
the existing tenures are disturbed only by the revisions
which take place at irregular intervals. f But, on the other
hand, this system has serious defects. The revision list
represents merely the numerical strength of the families,
and the numerical strength is often not at all in proportion
to the working power. Let us suppose, for example, two
families, each containing at the time of the revision live
male members. According to the census list these two
families are equal, and ought to receive equal shares of the
land; but in reality it may happen that the one contains a
father in the prime of life and four able-bodied sons, whilst
the other contains a widow and five little boys. The wants
and working power of these two families are, of course, very
different, and if the above system of distribution be applied,
the man with four sons and a goodly supply of grandchildren
will probably find that he has too little land, whilst the widow
with her five little boys will find it difficult to cultivate the
five shares allotted to her, and utterly impossible to pay the
corresponding amount of taxation — for in all cases, it must
be remembered, the Communal burdens are distributed in
the same proportion as the land.

But why, it may be said, should the widow not accept
provisionally the five shares, and let to others the part
which she does not require ? The balance of rent after
payment of the taxes might help her to bring up her young
family.

* A long list of the various systems of allotment to be found in individual
Communes in different parts of the country is given in the opening chapter
of a valuable work by Karelin, entitled ObsJitchinnoye Vladenii v Rossii
(St. Petersburg, 1893). As ray object is to convey to the reader merely a
general idea of the institution, I refrain from confusing him by an enumera-
tion of the endless divergences from the original type.

t Since 1710 eleven revisions have been made, the last in 1897. The
intervals varied from six to fortv-one years.

128 RUSSIA

So it seems to one acquainted only with the rural economy
of England, where land is scarce, and always gives a revenue
more than sufficient to defray the taxes. But in Russia the
possession of a share of Communal land is often not a
privilege, but a burden. In some Communes the land is so
poor and abundant that it cannot be let at any price. In
others the soil will repay cultivation, but a fair rent will not
suffice to pay the taxes and dues.

To obviate these inconvenient results of the simpler
system, many Communes have adopted the expedient of
allotting the land, not according to the number of revision
souls, but according to the working power of the families.
Thus, in the instance above supposed, the widow would
receive perhaps two shares, and the large household, con-
taining five workers, would receive perhaps seven or eight.
Since the breaking up of the large families, such inequality
as I have supposed is, of course, rare ; but inequality
of a less extreme kind does still occur, and justifies
a departure from the system of allotment according to the
revision lists.

Even if the allotment be fair and equitable at the time
of the revision, it may soon become unfair and burdensome
by the natural fluctuations of the population. Births and
deaths may in the course of a very few years entirely alter
the relative working power of the various families. The
sons of the widow may grow up to manhood, whilst two
or three able-bodied members of the other family may be
cut off by an epidemic. Thus, long before a new revision
takes place, the distribution of the land may be no longer
in accordance with the wants and capacities of the various
families composing the Commune. To correct this, various
expedients are employed. Some Communes transfer par-
ticular lots from one family to another, as circumstances
demand ; whilst others make from time to time, during the
intervals between the revisions, a complete redistribution
and re-allotment of the land. Of these two systems the
former is now the more frequently employed.

The system of allotment adopted depends entirely on the
will of the particular Commune. In this respect the Com-
munes enjoy the most complete autonomy, and no peasant

EXTREME DEMOCRACY OF THE MIR 129

ever dreams of appealing against a Communal decree.* The
higher authorities not only abstain from all interference in
the allotment of the Communal lands, but remain in pro-
found ignorance as to which system the Communes
habitually adopt. Though the Imperial Administration has
a most voracious appetite for symmetrically constructed
statistical tables — many of them formed chiefly out of
materials supplied by the mysterious inner consciousness of
the subordinate officials — no attempt has yet been made, so
far as I know, to collect statistical data which might throw
light on this important subject. In spite of the systematic
and persistent efforts of the centralised bureaucracy to regu-
late minutely all departments of the national life, the rural
Communes, which contain about five-sixths of the popula-
tion, remain in many respects entirely beyond its influence,
and even beyond its sphere of vision ! But let not the
reader be astonished overmuch. He will learn in time that
Russia is the land of paradoxes; and meanwhile he is about
to receive a still more startling bit of information. In "the
great stronghold of C^sarian despotism and centralised
bureaucracy," these Village Communes, containing about
five-sixths of the population, are capital specimens of
representative Constitutional government of the extreme
democratic type !

When I say that the rural Commune is a good specimen of
Constitutional government, I use the phrase in the English,
and not in the Continental sense. In the Continental
languages a Constitutional regime implies the existence of
a long, formal document, in which the functions of the
various institutions, the powers of the various authorities,
and the methods of procedure are carefully defined. Such
a document was never heard of in Russian Village Com-
munes, except those belonging to the Imperial Domains,
and the special legislation which formerly regulated their
affairs was repealed at the time of the Emancipation. At

* This has been somewhat modified by recent legislation. According to
the Emancipation Law of 1861, redistribution of the land could take place at
any time provided it was voted by a majority of two-thirds at the Village
Assembly. By a law of i8q3 redistribution cannot take place oftener than
once in twelve years, and must receive the sanction of certain local
authorities.

130 RUSSIA

the present day the Constitution of all the Village Communes
is of the English type — a body of unwritten, traditional con-
ceptions, which have grown up and modified themselves
under the influence of everchanging practical necessity. No
doubt certain definitions of the functions and mutual relations
of the Communal authorities might be extracted from the
Emancipation Law and subsequent official documents, but
as a rule neither the Village Elder nor the members of the
Village Assembly ever heard of such definitions ; and yet
every peasant knows, as if by instinct, what each of these
authorities can do and cannot do. The Commune is, in
fact, a living institution, whose spontaneous vitality enables
it to dispense with the assistance and guidance of the written
law, and its constitution is thoroughly democratic. The
Elder represents merely the executive power. The real
authority resides in the Assembly, of which all Heads of
Households are members.*

The simple procedure, or rather the absence of all formal
procedure, at the Assemblies, illustrates admirably the
essentially practical character of the institution. The meet-
ings are held in the open air, because in the village there
is no building — except the church, which can be used only
for religious purposes— large enough to contain all the
members ; and they almost always take place on Sundays
or holidays, when the peasants have plenty of leisure. Any
open space may serve as a Forum. The discussions are
occasionally very animated, but there is rarely any attempt
at speech-making. If any young member should show an
inclination to indulge in oratory, he is sure to be un-
ceremoniously interrupted by some of the older members,
who have never any sympathy with fine talking. The
assemblage has the appearance of a crowd of people who
have accidentally come together, and are discussing in little
groups subjects of local interest. Gradually some one group,
containing two or three peasants who have more moral in-
fluence than their fellows, attracts the others, and the dis-
cussion becomes general. Two or more peasants may speak

* An attempt was made by Alexander III. in 1884 to bring the Rural Com-
munes under supervision and control by the appointment of rural officials
called Zemskiye Natchdlnikt. Of this so-called reform I shall have occasion
to speak later.

THE VILLAGE ASSEMBLY 131

at a time, and interrupt each other freely — using plain,
unvarnished language, not at all parliamentary — and the
discussion may become a confused, unintelligible din; but
at the moment when the spectator imagines that the con-
sultation is about to be transformed into a free fight, the
tumult spontaneously subsides, or perhaps a general roar of
laughter announces that someone has been successfully hit
by a strong argumentum ad hominem or biting personal
remark. In any case there is no danger of the disputants
coming to blows. No class of men in the world are more
good-natured and pacific than the Russian peasantry. When
sober they never fight, and even when under the influence
of alcohol they are more likely to be violently affectionate
than disagreeably quarrelsome. If two of them take to
drinking together, the probability is that in a few minutes,
though they may never have seen each other before, they
will be expressing in very strong terms their mutual regard
and affection, confirming their words with an occasional
friendly embrace.

Theoretically speaking, the Village Parliament has a
Speaker, in the person of the Village Elder. The word
Speaker is etymologically less objectionable than the term
President, for the personage in question never sits down,
but mingles in the crowd like the ordinary members.
Objection may be taken to the word on the ground that the
Elder speaks much less than many other members, but this
may likewise be said of the Speaker of the House of
Commons. Whatever we may call him, the Elder is officially
the principal personage in the crowd, and wears the insignia
of office in the form of a small medal suspended from his
neck by a thin brass chain. His duties, however, are
extremely light. To call to order those who interrupt the
discussion is no part of his functions. If he calls an honour-
able member "Durak!" (blockhead), or interrupts an orator
with a laconic "Moltchi ! " (hold your tongue !), he does so
in virtue of no special prerogative, but simply in accord-
ance with a time-honoured privilege, which is equally
enjoyed by all present, and may be employed with impunitv
against himself. Indeed, it may be said in general that the
phraseology and the procedure are not subjected to any

132 RUSSIA

strict rules. The Elder comes prominently forward only
when it is necessary to take the sense of the meeting. On
such occasions he may stand back a little from the crowd
and say, "Well, Orthodox, have you decided so? " and the
crowd will probably shout, "Ladno! ladno ! " that is to
say, "Agreed ! agreed ! "

Communal measures are generally carried in this way
by acclamation ; but it sometimes happens that there is such
a diversity of opinion that it is difficult to tell which of the
two parties has a majority. In this case the Elder requests
the one party to stand to the right and the other to the left.
The two groups are then counted, and the minority submits,
for no one ever dreams of opposing openly the will of the
Mir.

During the reign of Nicholas I. an attempt was made
to regulate by the written law the procedure of Village
Assemblies amongst the peasantry of the State Domains,
and among other reforms voting by ballot was introduced;
but the new custom never struck root. The peasants did
not regard with favour the new method, and persisted in
calling it, contemptuously, "playing at marbles." Here,
again, we have one of those wonderful and apparently
anomalous facts which frequently meet the student of
Russian affairs: the Emperor Nicholas I., the Incarnation
of Autocracy and the champion of the Reactionary Party
throughout Europe, tries to force the ballot-box, the ingenious
invention of extreme radicals, on several millions of his
subjects !

In the northern provinces, where a considerable portion
of the male population is always absent, the Village
Assembly generally includes a good many female members.
These are women who, on account of the absence or death
of their husbands, happen to be for the moment Heads of
Households. As such they are entitled to be present, and
their right to take part in the deliberations is never called
in question. In matters affecting the general welfare of the
Commune they rarely speak, and if they do venture to
enounce an opinion on such occasions they have little chance
of commanding attention, for the Russian peasantry are as
yet little imbued with the modern doctrines of female

FEMALE MEMBERS OF THE ASSEMBLY 133

equality, and express their opinion of female intelligence
by the homely adage: "The hair is long, but the mind is
short." According to one proverb, seven women have
collectively but one soul, and according to a still more un-
gallant popular saying, women have no souls at all, but only
a vapour. Woman, therefore, as woman, is not deserving
of much consideration, but a particular woman, as Head
of a Household, is entitled to speak on all questions directly
affecting the household under her care. If, for instance, it
be proposed to increase or diminish her household's share
of the land and the burdens, she will be allowed to speak
freely on the subject, and even to indulge in personal
invective against her male opponents. She thereby exposes
herself, it is true, to uncomplimentary remarks ; but any
which she happens to receive she is pretty sure to repay
with interest — referring, perhaps, with pertinent virulence
to the domestic affairs of those who attack her. And when
argument and invective fail, she can try the effect of pathetic
appeal, supported by copious tears.

As the Village Assembly is really a representative
institution in the full sense of the term, it reflects faithfully
the good and the bad qualities of the rural population. Its
decisions are therefore usually characterised by plain,
practical common sense, but it is subject to occasional
unfortunate aberrations in consequence of pernicious in-
fluences, chiefly of an alcoholic kind. An instance of this
fact occurred during my sojourn at Ivanovka. The question
under discussion was whether a kabdk, or gin-shop, should
be established in the village. A trader from the district
town desired to establish one, and offered to pay to the Com-
mune a yearly sum for the necessary permission. The more
industrious, respectable members of the Commune, backed
by the whole female population, were strongly opposed to
the project, knowing full well that a kabdk would certainly
lead to the ruin of more than one household; but the enter-
prising trader had strong arguments wherewith to seduce
a large number of the members, and succeeded in obtaining
a decision in his favour.

The Assembly discusses all matters affecting the Com-
munal welfare, and, as these matters have never been legally

134 RUSSIA

defined, its recognised competence is very wide. It fixes
tfie time for making the hay, and the day for commencing
the ploughing of the fallow field; it decrees what measures
shall be employed against those who do not punctually pay
their taxes; it decides whether a new member shall be
admitted into the Commune, and whether an old member
shall be allowed to change his domicile ; it gives or with-
holds permission to erect new buildings on the Communal
land; it prepares and signs all contracts which the Commune
makes with one of its own members or with a stranger; it
interferes whenever it thinks necessary in the domestic affairs
of its members; it elects the Elder — as well as the Communal
tax-collector and watchman, where such offices exist — and the
Communal herd-boy; above all, it divides and allots the
Communal land among the members as it thinks fit.

Of all these various proceedings the English reader may
naturally assume that the elections are the most noisy and
exciting. In reality this is a mistake. The elections produce
little excitement, for the simple reason that, as a rule, no
one desires to be elected. Once, it is said, a peasant who
had been guilty of some misdemeanour was informed by an
Arbiter of the Peace — a species of official of which I shall
have occasion to speak in the sequel — that he would be no
longer capable of filling any Communal office; and instead
of regretting this diminution of his civil rights, he bowed
very low, and respectfully expressed his thanks for the new
privilege which he had acquired. This anecdote may not
be true, but it illustrates the undoubted fact that the Russian
peasant regards office as a burden rather than as an honour.
There is no civic ambition in those little rural Common-
wealths, whilst the privilege of wearing a bronze medal,
which commands no respect, and the reception of a few
roubles as salary, afford no adequate compensation for the
trouble, annoyance, and responsibility which a Village
Elder has to bear. The elections are therefore generally
very tame and uninteresting. The following description
may serve as an illustration.

It is a Sunday afternoon. The peasants, male and
female, have turned out in Sunday attire, and the bright
costumes of the women help the sunshine to put a little rich

THE ELECTIONS i35

colour into the scene, which is at ordinary times monoton-
ously grey. Slowly the crowd collects on the open space
at the side of the church. All classes of the population are
represented. On the extreme outskirts are a band of fair-
haired, merry children — some of them standing or lying on
the grass and gazing attentively at the proceedings, and
others running about and amusing themselves. Close to
these stand a group of young girls, convulsed with half-
suppressed laughter. The cause of their merriment is a
youth of some seventeen summers, evidently the w'ag of the
village, who stands beside them with an accordion in his
hand, and relates to them in a half-whisper how he is about
to be elected Elder, and what mad pranks he will play in
that capacity. When one of the girls happens to laugh
outright, the matrons who are standing near turn round and
scowl ; and one of them, stepping forward, orders the
offender, in a tone of authority, to go home at once if she
cannot behave herself. Crestfallen, the culprit retires, and
the youth who is the cause of the merriment makes the in-
cident the subject of a new joke. Meanwhile the deliberations
have begun. The majority of the members are chatting
together, or looking at a little group composed of three
peasants and a woman, who are standing a little apart from
the others. Here alone the matter in hand is being really
discussed. The woman is explaining, with tears in her
eyes, and with a vast amount of useless repetition, that her
"old man," who is Elder for the time being, is very ill,
and cannot fulfil his duties.

"But he has not yet served a year, and he'll get better,"
remarks one peasant, evidently the youngest of the little
group.

"Who knows? " replies the woman, sobbing. "It is the
will of God, but I don't believe that he'll ever put his foot
to the ground again. The Feldsher has been four times to
see him, and the doctor himself came once, and said that
he must be brought to the hospital."

"And why has he not been taken there?"

"How could he be taken? Who is to carry him? Do
you think he's a baby? The hospital is forty versts off.
If you put him in a cart he would die before he had

136 RUSSIA

gone a verst. And then, who knows what they do with
people in the hospital ? " This last question contained
probably the true reason why the doctor's orders had been
disobeyed.

"Very well; that's enough; hold your tongue," says the
greybeard of the little group to the woman ; and then, turn-
ing to the other peasants, remarks, "There is nothing to be
done. The Stanovoi (officer of rural police) will be here one
of these days, and will make a row again if we don't elect
a new Elder. Whom shall we choose ? "

As soon as this question is asked, several peasants look
down to the ground, or try in some other way to avoid
attracting attention, lest their names should be suggested.
When the silence has continued a minute or two, the grey-
beard says, "There is Alexei Ivanof; he has not served
yet ! "

"Yes, yes, Alexei Ivdnof ! " shout half a dozen voices,
belonging probably to peasants who fear they may be
elected.

Alexei protests in the strongest terms. He cannot say
that he is ill, because his big ruddy face would give him the
lie direct, but he finds half a dozen other reasons why he
should not be chosen, and accordingly requests to be ex-
cused. But his protestations are not listened to, and the
proceedings terminate. A new Village Elder has been duly
elected.

Far more important than the elections is the redistribu-
tion of the Communal land. It can matter but little to the
Head of a Household how the elections go, provided he
himself is not chosen. He can accept with perfect
equanimity Alexei, or Ivan, or Nikolai, because the office-
bearers have very little influence in Communal affairs. But
he cannot remain a passive, indifferent spectator when the
division and allotment of the land come to be discussed, for
the material welfare of every household depends to a great
extent on the amount of land and of burdens which it
receives.

In the southern provinces, where the soil is fertile, and
the taxes do not exceed the normal rent, the process of
division and allotment is comparatively simple. Here each

DISTRIBUTION OF LAND 137

peasant desires to get as much land as possible, and con-
sequently each household demands all the land to which it is
entitled — that is to say, a number of shares equal to the
number of its members inscribed in the last revision list.
The Assembly has therefore no difficult questions to decide.
The Communal revision list determines the number of shares
into which the land must be divided, and the number of
shares to be allotted to each family. The only difficulty
likely to arise is as to which particular shares a particular
family shall receive, and this difficulty is commonly obviated
by the custom of drawing lots. There may be, it is true,
some difference of opinion as to when a redistribution should
be made, but this question is easily decided by a vote of the
Assembly.

Very different is the process of division and allotment in
many Communes of the northern provinces. Here the soil
is often very unfertile and the taxes exceed the normal rent,
and consequently it may happen that the peasants strive to
have as little land as possible. In these cases such scenes as
the following may occur.

Ivan is being asked how many shares of the Communal
land he will take, and replies in a slow, contemplative way,
"I have two sons, and there is myself, so I'll take three
shares, or somewhat less if it is your pleasure."

"Less ! " exclaims a middle-aged peasant, who is not the
Village Elder, but merely an influential member, and takes the
leading part in the proceedings. "You talk nonsense. Your
two sons are already old enough to help you, and soon they
may get married, and so bring you two new female
labourers."

"My eldest son," explains Ivan, "always works in
Moscow, and the other often leaves me in summer."

"But they both send or bring home money, and when
they get married, the wives will remain with you."

"God knows what will be," replies Ivan, passing over in
silence the first part of his opponent's remark. "Who
knows if they will marry ? "

" You can easily arrange that ! "

"That I cannot do. The times are changed now. The
young people do as they wish, and when they do get married

138 RUSSIA

they all wish to have houses of their own. Three shares will
be heavy enough for me ! "

"No, no. If they wish to separate from you, they will
take some land from you. You must take at least four. The
old wives there who have little children cannot take shares
according to the number of souls."

"He is a rich muzhik!" says a voice in the crowd.
"Lay on him five souls I " (that is to say, give him five shares
of the land and of the burdens).

"Five souls I cannot ! By God, I cannot ! "

"Very well, you shall have four," says the leading spirit
to Ivan; and then, turning to the crowd, inquires, "Shall it
be so ? "

"Four! four!" murmurs the crowd; and the question
is settled.

Next comes one of the old wives just referred to. Her
husband is a permanent invalid, and she has three little boys,
only one of whom is old enough for field labour. If the
number of souls were taken as the basis of distribution, she
would receive four shares ; but she would never be able to
pay four shares of the Communal burdens. She must there-
fore receive less than that amount. When asked how many
she will take, she replies with downcast eyes, "As the Mir
decides, so be it ! "

"Then you must take three."

"What do you say, little father?" cries the woman,
throwing off suddenly her air of submissive obedience. "Do
you hear that, ye Orthodox ? They want to lay upon me
three souls! Was such a thing ever heard of? Since St.
Peter's Day my husband has been bedridden — bewitched, it
seems, for nothing does him good. He cannot put a foot to
the ground — all the same as if he were dead; only he eats
bread ! "

"You talk nonsense," says a neighbour; "he was in the
kabAk (gin-shop) last week."

"And you ! " retorts the woman, wandering from the sub-
ject in hand; "what did you do last parish fete? Was it not
you who got drunk and beat your wife till she roused the
whole village with her shrieking? And no further gone than
last Sunday — pfu ! "

COMMUNAL LAND i39

"Listen!" says the old man sternly, cutting short the
torrent of invective. "You must take at least two shares and
a half. If you cannot manage it yourself, you can get some-
one to help you."

"How can that be? Where am I to get the money to
pay a labourer?" asks the woman, with much wailing
and a flood of tears. "Have pity, ye Orthodox, on the
poor orphans ! God will reward you " ; and so on, and
so on.

I need not weary the reader with a further description of
these scenes, which are always very long and sometimes
violent. All present are deeply interested, for the allotment
of the land is by far the most important event in Russian
peasant life, and the arrangement cannot be made without
endless talking and discussion. After the number of shares for
each family has been decided, the distribution of the lots
gives rise to new difficulties. The families who have plenti-
fully manured their land strive to get back their old lots,
and the Commune respects their claims so far as these are
consistent with the new arrangement ; but often it happens
that it is impossible to conciliate private rights and Com-
munal interests, and in such cases the former are sacrificed in
a way that would not be tolerated by men of Anglo-Saxon
race. This leads, however, to no serious consequences. The
peasants are accustomed to work together in this way, to
make concessions for the Communal welfare, and to bow
unreservedly to the will of the Mir. I know^ of many in-
stances where the peasants have set at defiance the authority
of the police, of the provincial governor, and of the central
Government itself, but I have never heard of any instance
w^here the will of the Mir was openly opposed by one of its
members.

In the preceding pages I have repeatedly spoken about
"shares of the Communal land." To prevent misconception
I must explain carefully what this expression means. A
share does not mean simply a plot or parcel of land; on the
contrary, it always contains at least four, and may contain a
large number of distinct plots. We have here a new point
of difference between the Russian village and the villages of
Western Europe.

140 RUSSIA

Communal land in Russia is of three kinds : the land
on which the village is built, the arable land, and the meadow
or hay-field, if the village is fortunate enough to possess one.
On the first of these each family possesses a house and
garden, which are the hereditary property of the family, and
are never affected by the periodical redistributions. The
other two kinds are both subject to redistribution, but on
somewhat different principles.

The whole of the Communal arable land is first of all
divided into three fields, to suit the triennial rotation of crops
already described, and each field is divided into a number of
long, narrow strips — corresponding to the number of male
members in the Commune — as nearly as possible equal to
each other in area and quality. Sometimes it is necessary to
divide the field into several portions, according to the quality
of the soil, and then to subdivide each of these portions into
the requisite number of strips. Thus in all cases every
household possesses at least one strip in each field; and in
those cases where subdivision is necessary, every household
possesses a strip in each of the portions into which the field
is subdivided. It often happens, therefore, that the strips
are very narrow, and the portions belonging to each family
very numerous. Strips six feet wide are by no means rare.
In 124 villages of the province of Moscow, regarding which
I have special information, they varied in width from three
to 45 yards, with an average of 1 1 yards. Of these narrow
strips a household may possess as many as thirty in a single
field ! The complicated process of division and subdivision
is accomplished by the peasants themselves, with the aid of
simple measuring-rods, and the accuracy of the result is
truly marvellous.

The meadow, which is reserved for the production of hay,
is divided into the same number of shares as the arable land.
There, however, the division and distribution take place,
not at irregular intervals, but annually. Every year, on a
day fixed by the Assembly, the villagers proceed in a body
to this part of their property, and divide it into the requisite
number of portions. Lots are then cast, and each family at
once mows the portion allotted to it. In some Communes
the meadow is mown by all the peasants in common, and the

A PRIMITIVE SYSTEM 141

hay afterwards distributed by lot among the families ; but this
system is by no means so frequently used.

As the whole of the Communal land thus resembles to
some extent a big farm, it is necessary to make certain rules
concerning cultivation. A family may sow what it likes in
the land allotted to it, but all families must at least conform
to the accepted system of rotation. In like manner, a family
cannot begin the autumn ploughing before the appointed
time, because it would thereby interfere with the rights of
the other families, who use the fallow field as pasturage.

It is not a little strange that this primitive system of
land tenure should have succeeded in living into the
twentieth century, and still more remarkable that the institu-
tion of which it forms an essential part should be regarded
by many intelligent people as one of the great institutions of
the future, and almost as a panacea for social and political
evils. The explanation of these facts will form the subject
of the next chapter.

CHAPTER IX

HOW THE COMMUNE HAS BEEN PRESERVED, AND WHAT IT
IS TO EFFECT IN THE FUTURE

The reader is probably aware that immediately after the
Crimean War Russia was subjected to a series of sweeping
reforms, including the Emancipation of the serfs and the
creation of a new system of local self-government, and he
may naturally wonder how it came to pass that a curious,
primitive institution like the rural Commune succeeded in
weathering the bureaucratic hurricane. This strange
phenomenon I now proceed to explain, partly because the
subject is in itself interesting, and partly because I hope
thereby to throw some light on the peculiar intellectual con-
dition of the Russian educated classes.

When it became evident, in 1857, that the serfs were
about to be emancipated, it was at first pretty generally sup-
posed that the rural Commune would be entirely abolished,
or at least radically modified. At that time many Russians
were enthusiastic, indiscriminate admirers of English institu-
tions, and believed, in common with the orthodox school of
political economists, that England had acquired her com-
mercial and industrial superiority by adopting the principle
of individual liberty and unrestricted competition, or, as
French writers term it, the ^'laissea jaire" principle. This
principle is plainly inconsistent with the rural Commune,
which compels the rural population to possess land, prevents
an enterprising peasant from acquiring the land of his less
enterprising neighbours, and places very considerable re-
strictions on the freedom of action of the individual members.
Accordingly it was assumed that the rural Commune, being
inconsistent with the modern spirit of progress, would find
no place in the new regime of liberty which was about to be
inaugurated.

No sooner had these ideas been announced in the Press

142

THE LAISSEZ-FAIRE PRINCIPLE i43

than they called forth strenuous protests. In the crowd of
protestors were two well-defined groups. On the one hand
there were the so-called Slavophils, a small band of patriotic,
highly educated Moscovites, who were strongly disposed to
admire everything specifically Russian, and who habitually
refused to bow the knee to the wisdom of Western Europe.
These gentlemen, in a special organ which they had recently
founded, pointed out to their countrymen that the Commune
was a venerable and peculiarly Russian institution, which
had mitigated in the past the baneful influence of serfage,
and would certainly in the future confer inestimable benefits
on the emancipated peasantry. The other group was
animated by a very different spirit. They had no sympathy
with national peculiarities, and no reverence for hoary
antiquity. That the Commune was specifically Russian or
Slavonic, and a remnant of primitive times, was in their
eyes anything but a recommendation in its favour. Cosmo-
politan in their tendencies, and absolutely free from all
archaeological sentimentality, they regarded the institution
from the purely utilitarian point of view. They agreed,
however, with the Slavophils in thinking that its preserva-
tion would have a beneficial influence on the material and
moral welfare of the peasantry.

For the sake of convenience it is necessary to designate
the members of this latter group by some definite name, but
I confess I have some difficulty in making a choice. I do not
wish to call them Socialists, because many people habitually
and involuntarily attach a stigma to the word, and believe
that all to whom the term is applied must be first-cousins to
the petroleuses. To avoid misconceptions of this kind, it will
be well to designate them simply by the organ which most
ably represented their views, and to call them the ad-
herents of The Contemporary.

The Slavophils and the adherents of The Contemporary,
though differing widely from each other in many respects,
had the same immediate object in view with regard to the
rural Commune, and they accordingly worked together.
With great ingenuity they contended that the Communal
system of land tenure had much greater advantages, and
was attended with much fewer inconveniences than people

144 RUSSIA

generally supposed. But they did not confine themselves to
these immediate practical advantages, which had very little
interest for the general reader. The writers in The Con-
temporary explained that the importance of the rural Com-
mune lies, not in its actual condition, but in its capabilities
of development, and they drew, with prophetic eye, pictures
of the happy rural Commune of the future. Let me give
here, as an illustration, one of these prophetic descriptions :
"Thanks to the spread of primary and technical education,
the peasants have become well acquainted with the science of
agriculture, and are always ready to undertake in common
the necessary improvements. They no longer exhaust the
soil by exporting the grain, but sell merely certain technical
products containing no mineral ingredients. For this pur-
pose the Communes possess distilleries, starch-works, and
the like, and the soil thereby retains its original fertility.
The scarcity induced by the natural increase of the population
is counteracted by improved methods of cultivation. If the
Chinese, who know nothing of natural science, have suc-
ceeded by purely empirical methods in perfecting agriculture
to such an extent that a whole family can support itself on a
few square yards of land, what may not the European do
with the help of chemistry, botanical physiology, and the
other natural sciences ? "

Coming back from the possibilities of the future to the
actualities of the present, these ingenious and eloquent
writers pointed out that in the rural Commune Russia pos-
sessed a sure preventive against the greatest evil of West-
European social organisation, the Proletariat. Here the
Slavophils could strike in with their favourite refrain about
the rotten social condition of Western Europe ; and their
temporary allies, though they habitually scoffed at the Slavo-
phil jeremiads, had no reason for the moment to contradict
them. Very soon the Proletariat became, for the educated
classes, a species of bugbear, and the reading public were
converted to the doctrine that the Communal institutions
should be preserved as a means of excluding the monster from
Russia.

This fear of what is vaguely termed the Proletariat is still
occasionally to be met with in Russia, and I have often taken

THE FEAR OF THE PROLETARIAT 145

pains to discover precisely what is meant by the term. I
cannot, however, say that my efforts have been completely
successful. The monster seems to be as vague and shadowy
as the awful forms which Milton placed at the gate of the
infernal regions. At one moment he seems to be simply
our old enemy Pauperism, but when we approach a little
nearer we find that he expands to colossal dimensions, so as
to include all who do not possess inalienable landed pro-
perty. In short, he turns out to be, on examination, as vague
and undefinable as a good bugbear ought to be; and this
vagueness contributed probably not a little to his success.

The influence which the idea of the Proletariat exercised
on the public mind and on the legislation at the time of the
Emancipation is a very notable fact, and well worthy of
attention, because it helps to illustrate a point of difference
between Russians and Englishmen.

Englishmen are, as a rule, too much occupied with the
multifarious concerns of the present to look much ahead into
the distant future. We profess, indeed, to regard with
horror the maxim, Apres nous le deluge! and we should
probably annihilate with our virtuous indignation any-
one who should boldly profess the principle. And yet
we often act almost as if we were really partisans of that
heartless creed. When called upon to consider the interests
of future generations, we declare that "sufficient unto the
day is the evil thereof," and stigmatise as visionaries and
dreamers all who seek to withdraw our attention from the
present. A modern Cassandra who confidently predicts the
near exhaustion of our coal-fields, or graphically describes a
crushing national disaster that must some day overtake us,
may attract public attention for a few weeks; but when we
learn that the misfortune is not to take place in our time,
we placidly remark that future generations must take care
of themselves, and that we cannot reasonably be expected
to bear their burdens. When we are obliged to legislate,
we proceed in a cautious, tentative way, and are quite satisfied
with any homely, simple remedies that common sense and
experience may suggest, without taking the trouble to in-
quire whether the remedy adopted is in accordance with
scientific theories. In short, there is a certain truth in those

146 RUSSIA

"famous prophetick pictures" spoken of by Stillingfleet,
which "represent the fate of England by a mole, a creature
blind and busy, continually working under ground."

In Russia we find the opposite extreme. There the re-
formers have been trained, not in the arena of practical
politics, but in the school of political speculation ; and as soon
as they begin to examine some simple matter with a view to
legislation, it at once becomes a "question," and flies up into
the elevated sphere of political and social science. Instead of
feeling their way cautiously among the practical difficulties
which they chance to encounter, they at once look far ahead,
map out boldly with the assistance of foreign authorities the
whole region which lies before them, and advance with
gigantic strides according to the newest political theories.
Men trained in this way cannot rest satisfied with homely
remedies which merely alleviate the evils of the moment.
They wish to "tear up evil by the roots," and to legislate for
future generations as well as for themselves.

This tendency was peculiarly strong at the time of the
Emancipation. The educated classes were profoundly con-
vinced that the system of Nicholas I. had been a mistake,
and that a new and brighter era was about to dawn upon the
country. Everything had to be reformed. The whole social
and political edifice had to be reconstructed on entirely new
principles.

Let us imagine the position of a man who, having no
practical acquaintance with building, suddenly finds himself
called upon to construct a large house, containing all the
newest appliances for convenience and comfort. What will
his first step be ? Probably he will proceed at once to study
the latest authorities on architecture and construction, and
when he has mastered the general principles he will come
down gradually to the details. This is precisely what the
Russians did when they found themselves called upon to re-
construct the political and social edifice. They eagerly con-
sulted the most recent English, French, and German writers
on social and political science, and here it was that they made
the acquaintance of the Proletariat.

People who are in the habit of reading books of travel
without ever leaving their own country are very apt to acquire

PRESERVATION OF THE INSTITUTIONS 147

exaggerated notions regarding the hardships and dangers of
unciviHsed Hfe. They read about savage tribes, daring
robbers, ferocious wild beasts, poisonous snakes, deadly
fevers, and the like; and they naturally wonder how a human
being can exist for a week among such dangers. But if they
happen thereafter to visit the countries described, they dis-
cover to their surprise that, though the descriptions may not
have been exaggerated, life under such conditions is much
easier than they supposed. Now the Russians who heard a
great deal about the Proletariat on the eve of the Emanci-
pation were very much like the people who remain at home
and devour books of travel. They gained exaggerated
notions, and learned to fear the Proletariat much more
than we do, who habitually live in the midst of it. Of
course it is quite possible that their view of the subject is
truer than ours, and that we may some day, like the people
who live tranquilly on the slopes of a volcano, be rudely
awakened from our fancied security. But this is an entirely
different question. I am at present not endeavouring to
justify our habitual callousness with regard to social dangers,
but simply seeking to explain why the Russians, who have
little or no practical acquaintance with pauperism, should
have taken such elaborate precautions against it.

But how can the preservation of the Communal institu-
tions lead to this "consummation devoutly to be wished,"
and how far are the precautions likely to be successful ?

Those who have studied the mysteries of social science
have generally come to the conclusion that the Proletariat
has been formed chiefly by the expropriation of the peasantry
or small landholders, and that its formation might be pre-
vented, or at least retarded, by any system of legislation
which would secure the possession of land for the peasants
and prevent them from being uprooted from the soil. Now
it must be admitted that the Russian Communal system is
admirably adapted for this purpose. About one-half of the
arable land has been reserved for the peasantry, and cannot
be encroached on by the great landowners or the capitalists,
and every adult peasant, roughly speaking, has a right to a
share of this land. When I have said that the peasantry
compose about five-sixths of the population, and that it is

148 RUSSIA

extremely difficult for a peasant to sever his connection with
the rural Commune, it will be at once evident that, if the
theories of social philosophers are correct, and if the sanguine
expectations entertained in many quarters regarding the
permanence of the present Communal institutions are
destined to be realised, there is little or no danger of a
numerous Proletariat being formed, and the Russians are
justified in maintaining, as they often do, that they have
successfully solved one of the most important and most
difficult of social problems.

But is there any reasonable chance of these sanguine
expectations being realised ?

This is, doubtless, a most complicated and difficult ques-
tion, but it cannot be shirked. However sceptical we may
be with regard to social panaceas of all sorts, we cannot
dismiss with a few hackneyed phrases a gigantic experiment
in social science involving the material and moral welfare
of many millions of human beings. On the other hand, I do
not wish to exhaust the reader's patience by a long series of
multifarious details and conflicting arguments. What I pro-
pose to do, therefore, is to state in a few words the conclusions
at which I have arrived, after a careful study of the question
in all its bearings, and to indicate in a general way how I
have arrived at these conclusions.

If Russia were content to remain a purely agricultural
country of the Sleepy Hollow type, and if her Government
were to devote all its energies to maintaining economic and
social stagnation, the rural Commune might perhaps prevent
the formation of a large Proletariat in the future, as it has
tended to prevent it for centuries in the past. The periodical
redistributions of the Communal land would secure to every
family a portion of the soil, and when the population became
too dense, the evils arising from inordinate subdivision of
the land might be obviated by a carefully regulated system
of emigration to the outlying, thinly populated provinces.
All this sounds very well in theory, but experience is proving
that it cannot be carried out in practice. In Russia, as in
Western Europe, the struggle for life, even among the con-
servative agricultural classes, is becoming yearly more and
more intense, and is producing both the desire and the neces-

THE RURAL COMMUNE AND THE TOWNS 149

sity for greater freedom of individual character and effort,
so that each man may malce his way in the world according
to the amount of his intelligence, energy, spirit of enterprise,
and tenacity of purpose. Whatever institutions tend to fetter
the individual and maintain a dead level of mediocrity have
little chance of subsisting for any great length of time, and
it must be admitted that among such institutions, the rural
Commune in its present form occupies a prominent place.
All its members must possess, in principle if not always in
practice, an equal share of the soil and must practise the
same methods of agriculture, and when a certain inequality
has been created by individual effort it is in great measure
wiped out by a redistribution of the Communal land. No
doubt in practice the injustice and inconveniences of the
system, being always tempered and corrected by ingenious
compromises suggested by long experience, are not nearly
so great as the mere theorist might naturally suppose; but
they are quite serious enough to prevent the permanent
maintenance of the institution, and already there are ominous
indications of the coming change, as I shall explain in the
sequel. Before dismissing this complicated question, we
have to remember that Russia is rapidly becoming a great
industrial and commercial country, and we must, therefore,
consider how the rural Commune affects, and is affected by,
the constantly increasing proletariat of the towns.

In Western Europe the great centres of industry have
uprooted from the soil and collected in the towns a large
proportion of the rural population. Those who yielded to
this attractive influence severed gradually all connection
with their native villages, became unfit for field labour, and
were transformed into artisans or factory workers. In Russia
this transformation was impeded by the Communal institu-
tions. The peasant might work during the greater part of
his life in the towns, but he did not thereby sever his con-
nection with his native village. He remained, whether he
desired it or not, a member of the Commune, possessing a
share of the Communal land, and liable for a share of the
Communal burdens. During his residence in the town, his
wife and family remained at home, and thither he himself
sooner or later returned. In this way a class of hybrids —

150 RUSSIA

half peasants, half artisans — was created, and the formation
of a town proletariat was greatly retarded.

The existence of this hybrid class is sometimes cited as
a beneficent result of the Communal institutions. The
artisans and factory labourers, it is said, have thus always
a home to which they can retire when thrown out of work
or overtaken by old age, and their children are brought up
in the country, instead of being reared among the debilitat-
ing influences of overcrowded cities. Every common labourer
has, in short, by this ingenious contrivance, some small
capital and a country residence.

In the present transitional state of Russian society, this
peculiar arrangement is at once natural and convenient, but
amidst its advantages it has many serious defects. The
unnatural separation of the artisan from his wife and family
leads to very undesirable results, well known to all who are
familiar with the details of peasant life in the northern
provinces. And whatever its advantages and defects may
be, it cannot be permanently retained. At the present time
the native industry is still in its infancy. Protected by the
tariff from foreign competition, and too few in number to
produce a strong competition among themselves, the exist-
ing factories can give to their owners a large revenue without
any strenuous exertion. Manufacturers can therefore allow
themselves many little liberties, which would be quite in-
admissible if the price of manufactured goods were lowered
by brisk competition. Ask a Lancashire manufacturer if he
could allow a large portion of his workers to go yearly to
Cornwall or Caithness to mow a field of hay or reap a few
acres of wheat or oats ! And if Russia is to make great
industrial progress, the manufacturers of Moscow, Lodz,
Ivdnovo, and Shui will some day be as hard pressed as are
those of Bradford and Manchester. The invariable tendency
of modern industry, and the secret of its progress, is the
ever-increasing division of labour, and how can this principle
be applied if the artisans insist on remaining agriculturists?

The interests of agriculture, too, are opposed to the old
system. Agriculture cannot be expected to make progress,
or even to be tolerably productive, if it is left in great
measure to women and children. At present it is not desir-

THE NEW AGRARIAN LAW 151

able that the Hnk which binds the factory worker or artisan
with the village should be at once severed, for in the neigh-
bourhood of the large factories there is often no proper
accommodation for the families of the workers, and agricul-
ture, as at present practised, can still be carried on, though
the Head of the Household happens to be absent. But the
system must be regarded as simply temporary, and the dis-
ruption of large families — a phenomenon of which I have
already spoken — renders its application more and more
difficult.

During the last few years, in certain influential quarters,
a reaction has taken place with regard to the supposed
advantages of the Communal institutions. A revolutionary
agrarian movement which swept over European Russia in
1905-7 showed that the peasantry were sadly wanting in a
proper respect for the sanctity of individual property in
land, and it was generally thought that this defect was in
great measure due to the prevalence of Communal tenure.
At the same time the idea that it was well to have a
low level of material prosperity rather than a higher level,
disfigured by pauperism, was gradually disappearing before
the spirit of enterprise and individual initiative. These
new currents of thought were regarded with approval by
M. Stolypin, the Prime Minister, and he succeeded in
passing through the Duma an agrarian law which struck
at the root of the Communal system. Of this I shall have
more to say hereafter.

CHAPTER X

FINNISH AND TARTAR VILLAGES

When talking one day with a landed proprietor who lived
near Ivanovka, I accidentally discovered that in a district
at some distance to the north-east there were certain villages
the inhabitants of which did not understand Russian, and
habitually used a peculiar language of their own. With an
illogical hastiness worthy of a genuine ethnologist, I at once
assumed that these must be the remnants of some aboriginal
race.

"Des aborigines!" I exclaimed, unable to recall the
Russian equivalent for the term, and knowing that my friend
understood French. "Doubtless the remains of some ancient
race who formerly held the country, and are now rapidly dis-
appearing. Have you any Aborigines Protection Society
in this part of the world ? "

My friend had evidently great difficulty in imagining
what an Aborigines Protection Society could be, and
promptly assured me that there was nothing of the kind
in Russia. On being told that such a society might render
valuable services by protecting the weaker against the
stronger race, and collecting important materials for the
new science of Social Embryology, he looked thoroughly
mystified. As to the new science, he had never heard of it,
and as to protection, he thought that the inhabitants of the
villages in question were quite capable of protecting them-
selves. "I could invent," he added, with a malicious smile,
"a society for the protection of all peasants, but I am quite
sure that the authorities would not allow me to carry out
my idea."

My ethnological curiosity was thoroughly aroused, and
I endeavoured to awaken a similar feeling in my friend by
hinting that we had at hand a promising field for discoveries

152

FINNISH VILLAGES i53

which might immortaUse the fortunate explorers ; but my
efforts were in vain. The old gentleman was a portly,
indolent man, of phlegmatic temperament, who thought more
of comfort than of immortality in the terrestrial sense of the
term. To my proposal that we should start at once on an
exploring expedition, he replied calmly that the distance
was considerable, that the roads w-ere muddy, and that there
was nothing to be learned. The villages in question were
very like other villages, and their inhabitants lived, to all
intents and purposes, in the same way as their Russian
neighbours. If they had any secret peculiarities they w'ould
certainly not divulge them to a stranger, for they were
notoriously silent, gloomy, morose, and uncommunicative.
Everything that was known about them, my friend assured
me, might be communicated in a few words. They be-
longed to a Finnish tribe called Korelli, and had been
transported to their present settlements in comparatively
recent times. In answer to my questions as to how, when,
and by whom they had been transported thither, my
informant replied that it had been the work of Ivan the
Terrible.

Though I knew at that time little of Russian history,
I suspected that the last assertion was invented on the spur
of the moment in order to satisfy my troublesome curiosity,
and accordingly I determined not to accept it without verili-
cation. The result showed how careful the traveller should
be in accepting the testimony of "intelligent, well-informed
natives." On further investigation I discovered, not only
that the story about Ivan the Terrible was a pure invention
— -whether of my friend or of the popular imagination,
which always uses heroic names as pegs on which to hang
traditions, I know not — but also that my first theory was
correct. These Finnish peasants turned out to be a remnant
of the aborigines, or at least of the oldest known inhabitants
of the district. Men of the same race, but bearing different
tribal names, such as Finns, Tcheremiss, Tchuvash, Mordvd,
Votyaks, Permyaks, Zyryanye, Voguls, are to be found
in considerable numbers all over the northern provinces,
from the Gulf of Bothnia to Western Siberia, as well
as in the provinces bordering the Middle Volga as far

154 RUSSIA

south as Penza, Simbirsk, and Tambov.* The Russian
peasants, who now compose the great mass of the popula-
tion, are the intruders.

I had long taken a deep interest in what learned Germans
call the Volkerwanderung — that is to say, the migrations of
peoples during the gradual dissolution of the Roman Empire,
and it had often occurred to me that the most approved
authorities, who had expended an infinite amount of learn-
ing on the subject, had not always taken the trouble to
investigate the nature of the process. It is not enough to
know that a race or tribe extended its dominions or changed
its geographical position. We ought at the same time to
inquire whether it expelled, exterminated, or absorbed the
former inhabitants, and how the expulsion, extermination,
or absorption was effected. Now, of these three processes,
absorption may have been more frequent than is commonly
supposed, and it seemed to me that in Northern Russia
this process might be conveniently studied. A thousand
years ago the whole of Northern Russia was peopled by
Finnish pagan tribes, and at the present day the greater
part of it is occupied by peasants who speak the language
of Moscow, profess the Orthodox faith, present in their
physiognomy no striking peculiarities, and appear to the
superficial observer pure Russians. And we have no reason
to suppose that the former inhabitants were expelled or
exterminated, or that they gradually died out from contact
with the civilisation and vices of a higher race. History
records no wholesale Finnish migrations like that of the
Kalmyks, and no war of extermination ; and statistics prove
that among the remnants of those primitive races the popu-
lation increases as rapidly as among the Russian peasantry, f
From these facts I concluded that the Finnish aborigines
had been simply absorbed, or, rather, were being absorbed,
by the Slavonic intruders.

This conclusion has since been confirmed by observation.

* The semi-official "Statesman's Handbook for Russia" enumerates
fourteen different tribes with an aggregate of about 4,650,000 souls, but
these numbers must not be regarded as having any pretensions to accuracy.
The best authorities differ widely in their estimates.

t This latter statement is made on the authority of Popov (" Zyryanye i
zyryanski krai," Moscow, 1874) and Tcheremshanski (" Opisani6 Oren-
burgskoi Gubernii." Ufa, 1859)

PROCESS OF RUSSIFICATION i55

During my wanderings in these northern provinces I have
found villages in every stage of Russification. In one,
everything seemed thoroughly Finnish : the inhabitants had
a reddish olive skin, very high cheek-bones, obliquely set
eyes, and a peculiar costume; none of the women, and very
few of the men, could understand Russian, and any Russian
who visited the place was regarded as a foreigner. In a
second, there were already some Russian inhabitants; the
others had lost something of their pure Finnish type, many
of the men had discarded the old costume and spoke Russian
fluently, and a Russian visitor was no longer shunned. In
a third, the Finnish type was still further weakened : all the
men spoke Russian, and nearly all the women understood
it; the old male costume had entirely disappeared, and the
old female costume was rapidly following it ; while inter-
marriage with the Russian population was no longer rare.
In a fourth, intermarriage had almost completely done
its work, and the old Finnish element could be detected
merely in certain peculiarities of physiognomy and pro-
nunciation.*

The process of Russification may be likewise observed
in the manner of building the houses and in the methods
of farming, which show plainly that the Finnish races did
not obtain rudimentary civilisation from the Slavs. Whence,
then, was it derived? Was it obtained from some other
race, or is it indigenous? These are questions which I have
no means of answering.

A Positivist poet — or if that be a contradiction in terms,
let us say a Positivist who wrote verses — once composed an
appeal to the fair sex, beginning with the words —

"Pourquoi, O femmes, restez-vous en arriere?"

The question might have been addressed to the women in
these Finnish villages. Like their sisters in France, they
are much more conservative than the men, and oppose much
more stubbornly the Russian influence. On the other hand,
like women in general, when they do begin to change, they

* One of the most common peculiarities of pronunciation is the substitu-
tion of the sound of ts for that of tch, which I found almost universal over
a large area.

156 RUSSIA

change more rapidly. This is seen especially in the matter
of costume. The men adopt the Russian costume very
gradually; the women adopt it at once. As soon as a single
woman gets a gaudy Russian dress, every other woman in
the village feels envious and impatient till she has done like-
wise. I remember once visiting a Mordva village when this
critical point had been reached, and a very characteristic
incident occurred. In the preceding villages through which
I had passed I had tried in vain to buy a female costume,
and I again made the attempt. This time the result was very
different. A few minutes after I had expressed my wish to
purchase a costume, the house in which I was sitting was
besieged by a great crowd of women, holding in their hands
articles of wearing apparel. In order to make a selection I
went out into the crowd, but the desire to find a purchaser
was so general and so ardent that I was regularly mobbed.
The women, shouting "Kupi ! kupi ! " ("Buy ! buy ! "), and
struggling with each other to get near me, were so impor-
tunate that I had at last to take refuge in the house, to
prevent my own costume from being torn to shreds. But
even there I was not safe, for the women followed at my
heels, and a considerable amount of good-natured violence
had to be employed to expel the intruders.

It is especially interesting to observe the transformation
of nationality in the sphere of religious conceptions. The
Finns remained pagans long after the Russians had become
Christians, but at the present time the whole population,
from the eastern boundary of Finland Proper to the Ural
Mountains, are officially described as members of the Greek
Orthodox Church. The manner in which this change of
religion was effected is well worthy of attention.

The old religion of the Finnish tribes, if we may judge
from the fragments which still remain, had, like the people
themselves, a thoroughly practical, prosaic character. Their
theology consisted not of abstract dogmas, but merely of
simple prescriptions for the ensuring of material welfare.
Even at the present day, in the districts not completely
Russified, their prayers are plain, unadorned requests for a
good harvest, plenty of cattle, and the like, and are expressed
in a tone of childlike familiarity that sounds strange in our

FINNISH RELIGIONS i57

ears. They make no attempt to veil their desires with
mystic solemnity, but ask, in simple, straightforward
fashion, that God should make the barley ripen and the cow
calve successfully, that He should prevent their horses from
being stolen, and that He should help them to gain money
to pay their taxes.

Their religious ceremonies have, so far as I have been
able to discover, no hidden mystical signification, and are
for the most part rather magical rites for averting the in-
fluence of malicious spirits, or freeing themselves from the
unwelcome visits of their departed relatives. For this latter
purpose many, even of those who are officially Christians,
proceed at stated seasons to the graveyards, and place an
abundant supply of cooked food on the graves of their
relations who have recently died, requesting the departed to
accept this meal, and not to return to their old homes, where
their presence is no longer desired. Though more of the
food is eaten at night by the village dogs than by the
famished spirits, the custom is believed to have a powerful
influence in preventing the dead from wandering about at
night and frightening the living. If it be true, as I am in-
clined to believe, that tombstones were originally used for
keeping the dead in their graves, then it must be admitted
that in the matter of "laying" ghosts the Finns have shown
themselves much more humane than other races. It may,
however, be suggested that in the original home of the Finns
— " le berceau de la race," as French ethnologists say — big
stones could not easily be procured, and that the custom of
feeding the dead was adopted as a pis aller. The decision
of the question must be left to those who know where the
original home of the Finns w^as.

As the Russian peasantry, knowing little or nothing
of theology, and placing implicit confidence in rites and
ceremonies, did not differ very widely from the pagan Finns
in the matter of religious conceptions, the friendly contact
of the two races naturally led to a curious blending of the
two religions. The Russians adopted many customs from
the Finns, and the Finns adopted still more from the
Russians. When Yumala and the other Finnish deities did
not do as they were desired, their worshippers naturally

158 RUSSIA

applied for protection or assistance to the Madonna and the
"Russian God." If their own traditional magic rites did
not suffice to ward off evil influences, they naturally tried
the effect of crossing themselves, as the Russians do in
moments of danger. All this may seem strange to us who
have been taught from our earliest years that religion is
something quite different from spells, charms, and incanta-
tions, and that of all the various religions in the world one
alone is true, all the others being false. But we must
remember that the Finns have had a very different education.
They do not distinguish religion from magic rites, and they
have never been taught that other religions are less true
than their own. For them the best religion is the one which
contains the most potent spells, and they see no reason why
less powerful religions should not be blended therewith.
Their deities are not jealous gods, and do not insist on
having a monopoly of devotion ; and in any case they cannot
do much injury to those who have placed themselves under
the protection of a more powerful divinity.

This simple-minded eclecticism often produces a singular
mixture of Christianity and paganism. Thus, for instance,
at the harvest festivals, Tchuvash peasants have been known
to pray first to their own deities, and then to St. Nicholas
the miracle-worker, who is the favourite saint of the Russian
peasantry. Such dual worship is sometimes even recom-
mended by the Yomzi — a class of men who correspond to
the medicine-men among the Red Indians — and the prayers
are on these occasions couched in the most familiar terms.
Here is a specimen given by a Russian who has specially
studied the language and customs of this interesting people :*
"Look here, O Nicholas-god! Perhaps my neighbour, little
Michael, has been slandering me to you, or perhaps he will
do so. If he does, don't believe him. I have done him
no ill, and wish him none. He is a worthless boaster and
a babbler. He does not really honour you, and merely plays
the hypocrite. But I honour you from my heart; and,
behold, I place a taper before you ! " Sometimes incidents
occur which display a still more curious blending of the two
religions. Thus a Tcheremiss, on one occasion, in conse-

* Mr. Zolotnitski, " Tchuvasko-russki slovar," p. 167.

CONVERSION OF THE FINNS i59

quence of a serious illness, sacrificed a young foal to our
Lady of Kazan ! *

Though the Finnish beliefs affected to some extent the
Russian peasantry, the Russian faith ultimately prevailed.
This can be explained without taking into consideration the
inherent superiority of Christianity over all forms of
paganism. The Finns had no organised priesthood, and
consequently never offered a systematic opposition to the
new faith ; the Russians, on the contrary, had a regular
hierarchy in close alliance with the civil administration. In
the principal villages Christian churches were built, and
some of the police officers vied with the ecclesiastical officials
in the work of making converts. At the same time there
were other influences tending in the same direction. If a
Russian practised Finnish superstitions he exposed himself
to disagreeable consequences of a temporal kind ; if, on the
contrary, a Finn adopted the Christian religion, the temporal
consequences that could result were all advantageous to him.

Many of the Finns gradually became Christians almost
unconsciously. The ecclesiastical authorities were extremely
moderate in their demands. They insisted on no religious
knowledge, and merely demanded that the converts should
be baptised. The converts, failing to understand the spiritual
significance of the ceremony, commonly offered no resist-
ance, so long as the immersion was performed in summer.
So little repugnance, indeed, did they feel, that on some
occasions, when a small reward was given to those who
consented, some of the new converts wished the ceremony
to be repeated several times. The chief objection to receiving
the Christian faith lay in the long and severe fasts imposed
by the Greek Orthodox Church ; but this difficulty was over-
come by assuming that they need not be strictly observed.
At first, in some districts, it was popularly believed that the
Icons informed the Russian priests against those who did
not fast as the Church prescribed ; but experience gradually
exploded this theory. Some of the more prudent converts,

* Similar practices seem to have existed in England at the time of the
introduction of Christianity. The Venerable Bede relates that Redwald of
East Anglia tried to serve at the same time Christ and his former gods, for
he had in the same temple a big altar to Christ and a small one on which
he was accustomed to immolate victims to devils.

i6o RUSSIA

however, to prevent all possible tale-telling, took the pre-
caution of turning the face of the Icon to the wall when
prohibited meats were about to be eaten !

This gradual conversion of the Finnish tribes, effected
without any intellectual revolution in the minds of the
converts, had very important temporal consequences.
Community of faith led to intermarriage, and intermarriage
led rapidly to the blending of the two races.

If we compare a Finnish village in any stage of Russifi-
cation with a Tartar village, of which the inhabitants are
Mahometans, we cannot fail to be struck by the contrast. In
the latter, though there may be many Russians, there is no
blending of the two races. Between them religion has raised
an impassable barrier. There are many villages in the
eastern and north-eastern provinces of European Russia
which have been for generations half Tartar and half
Russian, and the amalgamation of the two nationalities has
not yet begun. Near the one end stands the Christian
church, and near the other stands the little ^netchet, or
Mahometan house of prayer. The whole village forms one
Commune, with one Village Assembly and one Village
Elder; but, socially, it is composed of two distinct com-
munities, each possessing its peculiar customs and peculiar
mode of life. The Tartar may learn Russian, but he does
not on that account become Russianised.

It must not, however, be supposed that the two races
are imbued with fanatical hatred towards each other. On
the contrary, they live in perfect good-fellowship, elect as
Village Elder sometimes a Russian and sometimes a Tartar,
and discuss the Communal affairs in the Village Assembly
without reference to religious matters. I know one village
where the good-fellowship went even a step farther : the
Christians determined to repair their church, and the
Mahometans helped them to transport wood for the purpose !
All this tends to show that under a tolerably good Govern-
ment, which does not favour one race at the expense of the
other, Mahometan Tartars and Christian Slavs can live
peaceably together.

The absence of fanaticism and of that proselytising zeal
which is one of the most prolific sources of religious hatred,

THE PEASANT AND MAHOMETANISM 161

is to be explained by the peculiar religious conceptions of
these peasants. In their minds religion and nationality are
so closely allied as to be almost identical. The Russian is,
as it were, by nature a Christian, and the Tartar a
Mahometan; and it never occurs to anyone in these villages
to disturb the appointed order of nature. On this subject
I had once an interesting conversation with a Russian
peasant who had been for some time living among Tartars.
In reply to my question as to what kind of people the Tartars
were, he replied laconically, "Nitchevo" — that is to say,
"Nothing in particular"; and on being pressed for a more
definite expression of opinion, he admitted that they were
very good people indeed.

"And what kind of faith have they?" I continued.

"A good enough faith," was the prompt reply.

" Is it better than the faith of the Molokanye ? " The
Molokanye are Russian sectarians — closely resembling
Scotch Presbyterians — of whom I shall have more to say
in the sequel.

"Of course it is better than the Molokan faith."

"Indeed!" I exclaimed, endeavouring to conceal my
astonishment at this strange judgment. "Are the Molo-
kanye, then, very bad people?"

"Not at all. The Molokanye are good and honest."

"Why, then, do you think their faith is so much worse
than that of the INIahometans ? "

"I low shall I tell you?" The peasant here paused as
if to collect his thoughts, and then proceeded slowly, "The
Tartars, you see, recei\'ed their faith from God as they
received the colour of their skins, but the Molokanye are
Russians, who have invented a faith out of their own
heads ! "

This singular answer scarcely requires a commentary.
As it would be absurd to try to make Tartars change the
colour of their skins, so it would be absurd to try to make
them change their religion. Besides this, such an attempt
would be an unjustifiable interference with the designs
of Providence, for, in the peasant's opinion, God gave
Mahometanism to the Tartars just as he gave the Orthodox
faith to the Russians.

G

i62 RUSSIA

The ecclesiastical authorities do not formally adopt this
strange theory, but they generally act in accordance with
it. There is little official propaganda among the Mahometan
subjects of the Tsar, and it is well that it is so, for an
energetic propaganda would lead merely to the stirring up
of any latent hostility which may exist deep down in the
nature of the two races, and it would not make any real con-
verts. The Tartars cannot unconsciously imbibe Christianity
as the Finns have done. Their religion is not a rude, simple
paganism without theology in the scholastic sense of the
term, but a monotheism as exclusive as Christianity itself.
Enter into conversation with an intelligent man who has
no higher religious belief than a rude sort of paganism, and
you may, if you know him w'ell and make a judicious use
of your knowledge, easily interest him in the touching story
of Christ's life and teaching. And in these unsophisticated
natures there is but one step from interest and sympathy to
conversion.

Try the same method with a Mussulman, and you will
soon find that all your efforts are fruitless. He has already
a theology and a prophet of his own, and sees no reason
why he should exchange them for those which you have to
offer. Perhaps he will show you more or less openly that
he pities your ignorance, and wonders that you have not
been able to advance from Christianity to Mahometanism.
In his opinion — I am supposing that he is a man of educa-
tion— Moses and Christ were great prophets in their day,
and consequently he is accustomed to respect their memory;
but he is profoundly convinced that, however appropriate
they were for their own times, they have been entirely super-
seded by Mahomet, precisely as we believe that Judaism was
superseded by Christianity. Proud of his superior know-
ledge, he regards you as a benighted polytheist, and may
perhaps tell you that the Orthodox Christians with whom
he comes in contact have three Gods and a host of lesser
deities called saints, that they pray to idols called Icons,
and that they keep their holy days by getting drunk. In
vain you endeavour to explain to him that saints and Icons
are not essential parts of Christianity, and that habits of
intoxication have no religious significance. On these points

CHRISTIAN PROPAGANDA 163

he may make concessions to you, but the doctrine of the
Trinity remains for him a fatal stumbhng-block. "You
Christians," he will say, "once had a great prophet called
lisous, who is mentioned with respect in the Koran, but
you falsified your sacred writings and took to worshipping
him, and now you declare that he is the equal of Allah,
Far from us be such blasphemy ! There is but one God,
and Mahomet is His prophet,"

A worthy Christian missionary, who had laboured long
and zealously among a iMussulman population, once called
me sharply to account for having expressed the opinion that
Mahometans are very rarely converted to Christianity. When
I brought him down from the region of vague general state-
ments and insisted on knowing how many cases he had met
with in his own personal experience during sixteen years of
missionary work, he was constrained to admit that he had
known only one; and when I pressed him farther as to the
disinterested sincerity of the convert in question, his reply
was not altogether satisfactory !

The policy of religious non-intervention has not always
been practised by the Government, vSoon after the conquest
of the Khanate of Kazan, in the sixteenth century, the Tsars
of Muscovy attempted to convert their new subjects from
Mahometanism to Christianity, The means employed were
partly spiritual and partly administrative, but the police
officers seem to have played a more important part than the
clergy. In this way a certain number of Tartars were
baptised; but the authorities were obliged to admit that the
new converts "shamelessly retain many horrid Tartar
customs, and neither hold nor know the Christian faith."
When spiritual exhortations failed, the Government ordered
its officials to "pacify, imprison, put in irons, and thereby
untcach and frighten from the Tartar faith those who,
though baptised, do not obey the admonitions of the Metro-
politan." These energetic measures proved as ineffectual as
the spiritual exhortations; and Catherine II. adopted a new
method, highly characteristic of her system of administra-
tion. The new converts — who, it must be remembered, were
unable to read or write — were ordered by Imperial ukaz
to sign a written promise to the effect that "they would

i64 RUSSIA

completely forsake their infidel errors, and, avoiding all
intercourse with unbelievers, would hold firmly and un-
waveringly the Christian faith and its dogmas "*— of which
latter, we may add, they had not the slightest knowledge.
The childlike faith in the magical efficacy of stamped paper
here displayed was not justified. The so-called "baptised
Tartars " are at the present time as far from being Christians
as they were in the sixteenth century. Until quite recently
they could not openly profess Mahometanism, because men
once formally admitted into the National Church could not
leave it without exposing themselves to the severe pains and
penalties of the criminal code, but they strongly objected to
be Christianised.

On this subject I have found a remarkable admission
in a semi-official article, published in 1872.! " It is a
fact worthy of attention," says the writer, "that a long
series of evident apostasies coincides with the beginning of
measures to confirm the converts in the Christian faith.
There must be, therefore, some collateral cause producing
those cases of apostasy precisely at the moment when the
contrary might be expected." There is a delightful naivete
in this way of stating the fact. The mysterious cause
vaguely indicated is not difficult to find. So long as the
Government demanded merely that the supposed converts
should be inscribed as Christians in the official registers,
there was no official apostasy ; but as soon as active measures
began to be taken "to confirm the converts," a spirit of
hostility and fanaticism appeared among the Mussulman
population, and made those who were inscribed as Christians
resist the propaganda.

It may safely be said that Christians are impervious to
Islam, and genuine Mussulmans impervious to Christianity;
but between the two there are certain tribes, or fractions of
tribes, which present a promising field for missionary enter-
prise. In this field the Tartars show much more zeal than
the Russians, and possess certain advantages over their
rivals. The tribes of North-eastern Russia learn Tartar
much more easily than Russian, and their geographical

* " Ukaz Kazanskoi dukhovnoi Konsistoril." Anno 1778.

t " Zhiirnal Ministerstva Narodnago Prosveshtchcniya." June, 1872.

TARTAR EDUCATION 165

position and modes of life bring them in contact with
Russians much less than with Tartars. The consequence is
that whole villages of Tcheremiss and Votiaks, officially
inscribed as belonging to the Greek Orthodox Church, have
openly declared themselves Mahometans; and some of the
more remarkable conversions have been commemorated by
popular songs, which are sung by young and old. Against
this propaganda the Orthodox ecclesiastical authorities do
little or nothing. Until 1903 the criminal code contained
severe enactments against those who fell away from the
Orthodox Church, and still more against those who pro-
duced apostasy,* but the enactments were rarely put
in force. The parish priest paid attention to apostasy
only in so far as it diminished his annual revenues, and
this could be easily avoided by the apostates paying
a small yearly sum. When this precaution was taken,
whole villages might be converted to Islam w'ithout the
higher ecclesiastical authorities knowing anything of the
matter.

Whether the barrier that separates Christians and
Mussulmans in Russia, us elsewhere, will ever be broken
down by education, I do not know; but I may remark that
hitherto the spread of education among the Tartars has
tended rather to imbue them with fanaticism. If we remem-
ber that theological education always produces intolerance,
and that Tartar education is almost exclusively theological,
we shall not be surprised to find that a Tartar's religious
fanaticism is generally in direct proportion to the amount
of his intellectual culture. The unlettered Tartar, unspoiled
by learning falsely so called, and knowing merely enough of
his religion to perform the customary ordinances prescribed
by the Prophet, is peaceable, kindly, and hospitable towards
all men ; but the learned Tartar, who has been taught that
the Christian is a kiafir (infidel) and a miishrik (polytheist),
odious in the sight of Allah, and already condemned to
eternal punishment, is as intolerant and fanatical as the
most bigoted Roman Catholic or Calvinist. Such fanatics

* A person convicted of converting a Christian to Tslam was sentenced,
according to the criminal code (§ 184), to the loss of all civil rights, and to
imprisonment with hard labour for a term varying from eight to ten years.

i66 RUSSIA

are occasionally to be met with in the eastern' provinces, but
they are few in number, and have Httle influence on the
masses. From my own experience I can testify that during
the whole course of my wanderings I have nowhere received
more kindness and hospitahty than among the uneducated
Mussulman Bashkirs. Even here, however, Islam opposes
a strong barrier to Russilication.

Though no such barrier existed among the pagan
Finnish tribes, the work of Russification among them is
still, as I have already mentioned, far from complete. Not
only whole villages, but even many entire districts, are still
very little affected by Russian influence. This is to be
explained partly by geographical conditions. In regions
which have a poor soil, and are intersected by no navigable
river, there are few or no Russian settlers, and consequently
the Finns have there preserved intact their language and
customs; whilst in those districts which present more induce-
ments to colonisation, the Russian population is more
numerous, and the Finns less conservative. It must, how-
ever, be admitted that geographical conditions do not com-
pletely explain the facts. The various tribes, even when
placed in the same conditions, are not equally susceptible
to foreign influence. The Mordva, for instance, are infinitely
less conservative than the Tchuvash. This I have often
noticed, and my impression has been confirmed by men
who have had more opportunities of observation. For the
present we must attribute this to some occult ethnological
peculiarity, but future investigations may some day supply
a more satisfactory explanation. Already I have obtained
some facts which appear to throw light on the subject. The
Tchuvdsh have certain customs which seem to indicate that
they were formerly, if not avowed Mahometans, at least
under the influence of Islam, whilst we have no reason
to suppose that the Mordva ever passed through that
school.

The absence of religious fanaticism greatly facilitated
Russian colonisation in these northern regions, and the
essentially peaceful disposition of the Russian peasantry
tended in the same direction. The Russian peasant is
admirably fitted for the work of peaceful agricultural coloni-

THE RUSSIAN COLONIST 167

sation. Among uncivilised tribes he is good-natured, long-
suffering, conciliatory, capable of bearing extreme hardships,
and endowed with a marvellous power of adapting himself
to circumstances. The haughty consciousness of personal
and national superiority habitually displayed by English-
men of all ranks when they are brought in contact with
races which they look upon as lower in the scale of humanity
than themselves, is entirely foreign to his character. He
has no desire to rule, and no wish to make the natives
hewers of wood and drawers of water. All he desires is a
few acres of land, which he and his family can cultivate;
and so long as he is allowed to enjoy these, he is not likely
to molest his neighbours. Had the colonists of the Finnish
country been men of Anglo-Saxon race, they would in all
probability have taken possession of the land and reduced
the natives to the condition of agricultural labourers. The
Russian colonists have contented themselves with a humbler
and less aggressive mode of action ; they have settled peace-
ably among the native population, and are rapidly becoming
blended with it. In many districts the so-called Russians
have perhaps more Finnish than Slavonic blood in their
veins.

But what has all this to do, it may be asked, with the
aforementioned Vdlkcrivandcrung, or migration of peoples,
during the Dark Ages? INIore than may at first sight appear.
Some of the so-called migrations were, I suspect, not at all
migrations in the ordinary sense of the term, but rather
gradual changes, such as those which have taken place, and
are still taking place, in Northern Russia. A thousand
years ago, what is now known as the province of Yaroslavl
was inhabited by Finns, and now it is occupied by men who
are commonly regarded as pure Slavs. But it w-ould be an
utter mistake to suppose that the Finns of this district
migrated to those more distant regions where they are now
to be found. In reality they formerly occupied, as I have
said, the whole of Northern Russia, and in the province of
Yaroslavl they have been transformed by Slav infiltration.
In Central Europe the Slavs mav be said in a certain sense
to have retrentod, for in former times thev occupied the whole
of Northern Germany as far west as the Elbe. But what does

i68 RUSSIA

the word "retreat" mean in this case? It means probably
that the Slavs were gradually Teutonised, and then absorbed
by the Teutonic race. Some tribes, it is true, swept over a
part of Europe in genuine nomadic fashion, and endeavoured
perhaps to expel or exterminate the actual possessors of the
soil. This kind of migration may likewise be studied in
Russia. But I must leave the subject till I come to speak
of the southern provinces.

CHAPTER XI

LORD NOVGOROD THE GREAT

Country life in Russia is pleasant enough in summer or
in winter, but between summer and winter there is an inter-
mediate period of several weeks, when the rain and mud
transform a country house into something very like a prison.
To escape this durance vile I determined in the month of
October to leave Ivanovka, and chose as my headquarters
for the next few months the town of Novgorod — the old
town of that name, not to be confounded with Nizhni
Novgorod, i.e. Lower Novgorod, on the Volga, where the
great annual fair is held.

For this choice there were several reasons. I did not
wish to go to St. Petersburg or Moscow, because I foresaw
that in either of those cities my studies would certainly be
interrupted. In a quiet, sleepy provincial town I should
have much more chance of coming in contact with people
who could not speak fluently any West-European languages,
and much better opportunities for studying native life and
local administration. Of the provincial capitals, Novgorod
was the nearest, and more interesting than most of its rivals;
for it has had a curious history, much older than that of
St. Petersburg or even of Moscow, and some traces of its
former greatness are still visible. Though now a town of
third-rate importance— a mere shadow of its former self — ■
it still contains about 27,000 inhabitants, and is the adminis-
trative centre of a large province.

About eighty miles from St. Petersburg the Moscow
railway crosses the Volkhov, a rapid, muddy river which
connects Lake Ilmen with Lake Ladoga. At the point of
intersection I got on board a small steamer and sailed up
stream towards Lake Ilmen for about fifty miles.* The

* The journey would now be made by rail, but the branch line which runs
near the hank of the river had not been constructed at that time.
G* 169

170 RUSSIA

journey was tedious, for the country is flat and monotonous,
and the steamer, though it puffed and snorted inordinately,
did not make more than nine knots. Towards sunset
Novgorod appeared on the horizon. Seen thus at a distance
in the soft twilight, it seemed decidedly picturesque. On
the east bank lay the greater part of the town, the sky line
of which was agreeably broken by the green roofs and
pear-shaped cupolas of many churches. On the opposite
bank rose the Kremlin. Spanning the river was a long,
venerable stone bridge, half hidden by a temporary wooden
one, which was doing duty for the older structure while the
latter was being repaired. A cynical fellow-passenger
assured me that the temporary structure was destined to
become permanent because it yielded a comfortable revenue
to certain officials, but this sinister prediction has not been
fulfilled.

That part of Novgorod which lies on the eastern bank of
the river, and in which I took up my abode for several
months, contains nothing that is worthy of special attention.
As is the case in most Russian towns, the streets are straight,
wide, and ill-paved, and all run parallel or at right angles to
each other. At the end of the bridge is a spacious market-
place, flanked on one side by the Town-house. Near the
other side stand the houses of the Governor and of the chief
military authority of the district. The only other buildings
of note are the numerous churches, which are mostly small,
and offer nothing that is likely to interest the student of archi-
tecture. Altogether this part of the town is unquestionably
commonplace. The learned archaeologist may detect in it
some traces of the distant past, but the ordinary traveller will
find little to arrest his attention.

If now we cross over to the west bank of the river, we
are at once confronted by something which verv few Russian
towns possess — a kremlin, or citadel. This is a large and
slightly elevated enclosure, surrounded by high brick walls,
and in part by the remains of a moat. Before the days of
heavy artillery these walls must have presented a formidable
barrier to any besieging force, but they have long ceased to
have any military significance, and are now nothing more
than an historical monument. Passing through the gateway

AN OLD LEGEND 171

which faces the bridge, we find ourselves in a large open space.
To the right stands the cathedral — a small, much-venerated
church, which can make no pretensions to architectural
beautv — and an irregular group of buildings containing the
consistory and the residence of the Archbishop. To the
left is a long symmetrical range of buildings containing
the Government offices and the law courts. INIidway between
this and the cathedral, in the centre of the great open space,
stands a colossal monument, composed of a massive circular
stone pedestal and an enormous globe, on and around which
cluster a number of emblematic and historical figures. This
curious monument, which has at least the merit of being
original in design, w'as erected in 1862, in commemoration of
Russia's thousandth birthday, and is supposed to represent
the history of Russia in general and of Novgorod in par-
ticular during the last thousand years. It was placed here
because Novgorod is the oldest of Russian towns, and be-
cause somew'here in the surrounding country occurred the
incident which is commonly recognised as the foundation of
the Russian Empire. The incident in question is thus
described in the oldest chronicle : —

"At that time, as the southern Slavonians paid tribute
to the Kozars, so the Novgorodian Slavonians suffered from
the attacks of the Variags. For some time the Variags ex-
tracted tribute from the Novgorodian Slavonians and the
neighbouring Finns; then the conquered tribes, by uniting
their forces, drove out the foreigners. But among the
Slavonians arose strong internal dissensions; the clans rose
against each other. Then, for the creation of order and
safety, they resolved to call in princes from a foreign land.
In the year 862 Slavonic legates went away beyond the sea
to the Variag tribe called Rus, and said, ' Our land is great
and fruitful, but there is no order in it; come and reign and
rule over us.' Three brothers accepted the invitation, and
appeared with their armed followers. The eldest of these,
Rurik, settled in Novgorod; the second, Sineus, at Byelo-
6zero; and the third, Truvor, in Isborsk. From them our
land is called RGs. After two years the brothers of Rurik
died. He alone began to rule over the Novgorod district, and
confided to his men the administration of the principal towns."

172 RUSSIA

This simple legend has given rise to a vast amount of
learned controversy, and historical investigators have fought
valiantly with each other over the important question, Who
were those armed men of Rus ? For a long time the com-
monly received opinion was that they were Normans from
Scandinavia. The Slavophils accepted the legend literally
in this sense, and constructed upon it an ingenious theory
of Russian history. The nations of the West, they said,
were conquered by invaders, who seized the country and
created the feudal system for their own benefit ; hence the
history of Western Europe is a long tale of bloody struggles
between conquerors and conquered, and at the present day
the old enmity still lives in the political rivalry of the different
social classes. The Russo-Slavonians, on the contrary, were
not conquered, but voluntarily invited a foreign prince to
come and rule over them ; hence the whole social and political
development of Russia has been essentially peaceful, and the
Russian people know nothing of social castes or feudalism.
Though this theory afforded some nourishment for patriotic
self-satisfaction, it displeased extreme patriots, who did not
like the idea that order was first established in their country
by men of Teutonic race. These preferred to adopt the
theory that Rurik and his companions were Slavonians from
the shores of the Baltic.

Though I devoted to the study of this question more
time and labour than perhaps the subject deserved, I have no
intention of inviting the reader to follow me through the
tedious controversy. Suffice it to say that, after careful con-
sideration, and with all due deference to recent historians, I
am inclined to adopt the old theory, and to regard the Nor-
mans of Scandinavia as in a certain sense the founders of
the Russian Empire. We know from other sources that
during the ninth century there was a great exodus from
vScandinavia. Greedy of booty, and fired with the spirit of
adventure, the Northmen, in their light, open boats, swept
along the coasts of Germany, France, Spain, Greece, and
Asia Minor, pillaging the towns and villages near the sea,
and entering into the heart of the country by means of the
rivers. At first they were mere marauders, and showed
everywhere such ferocity and cruelty that they came to be

THE NORTHMEN 173

regarded as something akin to plagues and famines, and the
faithful added a new petition to the Litany, "From the wrath
and malice of the Normans, O Lord, deliver us ! " But
towards the middle of the century the movement changed its
character. The raids became military invasions, and the
invaders sought to conquer the lands which they had formerly
plundered, "ut acquirant sibi spoliando regna quibus possent
vivere pace perpetua." The chiefs embraced Christianity,
married the daughters or sisters of the reigning princes, and
obtained the conquered territories as feudal grants. Thus
arose Norman principalities in the Low Countries, in France,
in Italy, and in Sicily; and the Northmen, rapidly blending
with the native population, soon showed as much political
talent as they had formerly shown reckless and destructive
valour.

It would have been strange indeed if these adventurers,
who succeeded in reaching Asia Minor and the coasts of
North America, should have overlooked Russia, which lay,
as it were, at their very doors. The Volkhov, flowing
through Novgorod, formed part of a great water-way, which
afforded almost uninterrupted water communication between
the Baltic and the Black Sea; and we know that some time
afterwards the Scandinavians used this route in their journeys
to Constantinople. The change which the Scandinavian
movement underwent elsewhere is clearly indicated by the
Russian chronicles : first, the Variags came as collectors of
tribute, and raised so much popular opposition that they were
expelled, and then they came as rulers, and settled in the
country. Whether they really came on invitation may be
doubted, but that they adopted the language, religion, and
customs of the native population does not militate against
the assertion that they were Normans. On the contrary, we
have here rather an additional confirmation, for elsewhere
the Normans did likewise. In the North of France they
adopted almost at once the French language and religion,
and the son and successor of the famous Rollo was sometimes
reproached with being more French than Norman.*

Though it is difficult to decide how far the legend is
literally true, there can be no possible doubt that the event

* Strinnholm, "Die Vikingerziige " (Hamburg, 1S39), I., p. 135.

174 RUSSIA

which it more or less accurately describes had an important
influence on Russian history. From that time dates the
rapid expansion of the Russo-Slavonians — a movement that
is still going on at the present day. To the north, the east,
and the south, new principalities were formed and governed
by men who all claimed to be descendants of Rurik, and
down to the end of the sixteenth century no Russian outside
of this great family ever attempted to establish independent
sovereignty.

For six centuries after the so-called invitation of Rurik,
the city on the Volkhov had a strange, chequered history.
Rapidly it conquered the neighbouring Finnish tribes, and
grew into a powerful independent state, with a territory ex-
tending to the Gulf of Finland, and northwards to the White
Sea. At the same time its commercial importance increased,
and it became an outpost of the Hanseatic League. In this
work the descendants of Rurik played an important part,
but they were always kept in strict subordination to the
popular will. Political freedom kept pace with commercial
prosperity. What means Rurik employed for establishing
and preserving order we know not, but the chronicles show
that his successors in Novgorod possessed merely such
authority as was freely granted them by the people. The
supreme powder resided, not in the prince, but in the assembly
of the citizens called together in the market-place by the
sound of the great bell. This assembly made laws for the
prince as well as for the people, entered into alliances with
foreign Powers, declared war, and concluded peace, im-
posed taxes, raised troops, and not only elected the magis-
trates, but also judged and deposed them when it thought
fit. The prince was little more than the hired commander of
the troops and the president of the judicial administration.
When entering on his functions he had to take a solemn oath
that he would faithfully observe the ancient laws and usages,
and if he failed to fulfil his promise he was sure to be sum-
marily deposed and expelled. The people had an old
rhymed proverb, "Koli khud knyaz, tak v gryaz ! " ("If the
prince is bad, into the mud with him ! "), and they habitually
acted according to it. So unpleasant, indeed, was the task
of ruling those sturdy, stiff-necked burghers, that some

CIVIL DISSENSIONS i75

princes refused to undertake it, and others, liaving tried it
for a time, voluntarily laid down their authority and de-
parted. But these frequent depositions and abdications — as
many as thirty took place in the course of a single century —
did not permanently disturb the existing- order of things.
The descendants of Rurik were numerous, and there were
always plenty of candidates for the vacant post. The
municipal republic continued to grow in strength and in
riches, and during the thirteenth and fourteenth century it
proudly styled itself "Lord Novgorod the Great" {Gospodin
Veliki Novgorod).

"Then came a change, as all things human change."
To the east arose the principality of Moscow — not an old, rich
municipal republic, but a young, vigorous State, ruled by a
line of crafty, energetic, ambitious, and unscrupulous princes
of the Rurik stock, who were freeing the country from the
Tartar yoke and gradually annexing by fair means and foul
the neighbouring principalities to their own dominions. At
the same time, and in a similar manner, the Lithuanian
Princes to the westward united various small principalities,
and formed a large independent State. Thus Novgorod
found itself in a critical position. Under a strong Govern-
ment it might have held its ow^n against these rivals and
successfully maintained its independence, but its strength
was already undermined by internal dissensions. Political
liberty had led to anarchy. Again and again on that great
open space where the national monument now stands, and in
the market-place on the other side of the river, scenes of
disorder and bloodshed took place, and more than once on
the bridge battles were fought by contending factions. Some-
times it was a contest betw-een rival families, and sometimes
a struggle betw-een the municipal aristocracy, who sought to
monopolise the political power, and the common people, who
wished to have a large share in the administration. A State
thus divided against itself could not long resist the aggressive
tendencies of powerful neighbours. Artful diplomacy could
but postpone the evil day, and it required no great political
foresight to predict that sooner or later Novgorod must be-
come Lithuanian or Muscovite. The great families inclined
to Lithuania, but the popular party and the clergy, disliking

176 RUSSIA

Roman Catholicism, looked to Moscow for assistance,
and the Grand Princes of Muscovy ultimately won the
prize.

The barbarous way in which the Grand Princes effected
the annexation shows how thoroughly they had imbibed the
spirit of Tartar statesmanship. Thousands of families were
transported to Moscow, and Muscovite families put in their
place; and when, in spite of this, the old spirit revived, Ivan
the Terrible determined to apply the method of physical ex-
termination, which he had found so effectual in breaking the
power of his own nobles. Advancing with a large army,
which met with no resistance, he devastated the country with
fire and sword, and during a residence of five weeks in the
town, he put the inhabitants to death with a ruthless ferocity
which has perhaps never been surpassed even by Oriental
despots. If those old walls could speak they would have
many a horrible tale to tell. Enough has been preserved in
the chronicles to give us some idea of this awful time. Monks
and priests were subjected to the Tartar punishment called
pravcah, which consisted in tying the victim to a stake, and
flogging him daily until a certain sum of money was paid
for his release. The merchants and officials were tortured
with fire, and then thrown from the bridge with their wives
and children into the river. Lest any of them should escape
by swimming, boatfuls of soldiers despatched those who were
not killed by the fall. At the present day there is a curious
bubbling immediately below the bridge, which prevents the
water from freezing in winter, and according to popular
belief this is caused by the spirits of the terrible Tsar's
victims. Of those who were murdered in the villages there
is no record, but in the town alone no less than 60,000
human beings are said to have been butchered— an awful
hecatomb on the altar of national unity and autocratic
power !

This tragic scene, which occurred in 1570, closes the
history of Novgorod as an independent State. Its real in-
dependence had long since ceased to exist, and now the last
spark of the old spirit was extinguished. The Tsars could
not suffer even a shadow of political independence to exist
within their dominions.

PROVINCIAL SOCIETY i77

In the old days, when many Hanseatic merchants an-
nually visited the city, and when the market-place, the bridge,
and the Kremlin were often the scene of violent political
struggles, Novgorod must have been an interesting place to
live in; but now its glory has departed, and in respect of
social resources it is not even a tirst-rate provincial town.
Kiev, Kharkov, and other towns which are situated at a
greater distance from the capital, in districts fertile enough
to induce the nobles to farm their own land, are in their way
little semi-independent centres of civilisation. They contain
a theatre, a library, two or three clubs, and large houses
belonging to rich landed proprietors, who spend the summer
on their estates and come into town for the winter months.
These proprietors, together with the resident officials, form
a numerous society, and during the wanter, dinner-parties,
balls, and other social gatherings are by no means infrequent.
In Novgorod the society is much more limited. It does not,
like Kiev, Kharkov, and Kazan, possess a university, and it
contains no houses belonging to wealthy nobles. The few
proprietors of the province who live on their estates, and
are rich enough to spend part of the year in town, prefer St.
Petersburg for their winter residence. The society, there-
fore, is composed exclusively of officials and of the officers
who happen to be quartered in the town or the immediate
vicinity.

Of all the people whose acquaintance I made at Novgorod,
I can recall only two men who did not occupy some official
position, civil or military. One of these was a retired doctor,
who was attempting to farm on scientific principles, and who,
I believe, soon afterwards gave up the attempt and migrated
elsewhere. The other was a Polish Roman Catholic bishop,
who had been compromised in the insurrection of 1863, and
was condemned to live here under police supervision. This
latter could scarcely be said to belong to the society of the
place; though he sometimes appeared at the unceremonious
w^eekly receptions given by the Governor, and was invariably
treated by all present with marked respect, he could not but
feel that he was in a false position, and he was rarely or
never seen in other houses.

The official circle of a town like Novgorod is sure to con-

178 RUSSIA

tain a good many people of average education and agreeable
manners, but it is sure to be neither brilliant nor interesting.
Though it is constantly undergoing a gradual renovation by
the accepted system of frequently transferring officials from
one locality to another, it preserves faithfully, in spite of the
new blood which it thus receives, its essentially languid
character. When a new official arrives he exchanges visits
with all the notables, and for a few days he produces quite
a sensation in the little community. If he appears at social
gatherings he is much talked to, and if he does not appear
he is much talked about. His former history is repeatedly
narrated, and his various merits and defects assiduously
discussed.

If he is married, and has brought his wife with him, the
field of comment and discussion is very much enlarged. The
first time that madame appears in society she is "the cynosure
of neighbouring eyes." Her features, her complexion, her
hair, her dress, and her jewellery are carefully noted and
criticised. Perhaps she has brought with her, from the
capital or from abroad, some dresses of the newest fashion.
As soon as this is discovered she at once becomes an object
of special curiosity to the ladies, and of envious jealousy to
those who regard as a personal grievance the presence of a
toilette finer or more fashionable than their own. Her de-
meanour, too, is very carefully observed. If she is friendly
and affable in manner, she is patronised; if she is distant and
reserved, she is condemned as proud and pretentious. In
either case she is pretty sure to form a close intimacy with
some one of the older female residents, and for a few weeks
the two ladies are inseparable, till some incautious word or
act disturbs the new-born friendship, and the devoted friends
become bitter enemies. Voluntarily or involuntarily the
husbands get mixed up in the quarrel. Highly undesirable
qualities are discovered in the characters of all parties con-
cerned, and are made the subject of unfriendly comment.
Then the feud subsides, and some new feud of a similar
kind comes to occupy the public attention. Mrs. A. wonders
how her friends Mr. and Mrs. B. can afford to lose consider-
able sums every evening at cards, and suspects that they
are getting into debt or starving themselves and their

SCANDAL 179

children; in her humble opinion they would do well to give
fewer supper parties, and lo refrain from poisoning their
guests. The bosom friend to whom this is related retails it
directly or indirectly to Mrs. B., and Mrs. B. naturally re-
taliates. Here is a new quarrel, which for some time affords
material for conversation.

When there is no quarrel, there is sure to be a bit of
scandal afloat. Though Russian provincial society is not at
all prudish, and leans rather to the side of extreme leniency,
it cannot entirely overlook les convenances. Madame C. has
always a large number of male admirers, and to this there
can be no reasonable objection so long as her husband does
not complain, but really she parades her preference for Mr.
X. at balls and parties a little too conspicuously. Then
there is Madame D., with the big dreamy eyes. How can
she remain in the place after her husband was killed in a
duel by a brother officer ? Ostensibly the cause of the quarrel
was a trifling incident at the card-table, but everyone knows
that in reality she was the cause of the deadly encounter.
And so on, and so on. In the absence of graver interests
society naturally bestows inordinate attention on the private
affairs of its members; and quarrelling, backbiting, and
scandalmongery help indolent people to kill the time that
hangs heavily on their hands.

Potent as these instruments are, they are not sufficient to
kill all the leisure hours. In the forenoons the gentlemen
are occupied with their official duties, whilst the ladies go
out shopping or pay visits, and devote any time that remains
to their household duties and their children; but the day's
work is over about four o'clock, and the long evening re-
mains to be filled up. The siesta may dispose of an hour
or an hour and a half, but about seven o'clock some definite
occupation has to be found. As it is impossible to devote
the whole evening to discussing the ordinary news of the
day, recourse is almost invariably had to card-playing, which
is indulged in to an extent that we had no conception of in
England until Bridge was imported. Hour after hour the
Russians of both sexes will sit in a hot room, filled with a
constantly renewed cloud of tobacco smoke— in the produc-
tion of which most of the ladies take part — and silently play

i8o RUSSIA

"Preference" or "Yarolash," a game resembling whist.*
Those who for some reason are obhged to be alone can amuse
themselves with "Patience," in which no partner is required.
In the other games the stakes are commonly very small, but
the sittings are often continued so long that a player may
win or lose two or three pounds sterling. It is no unusual
thing for gentlemen to play for eight or nine hours at a
time. At the weekly club-dinners, before coffee had been
served, nearly all present used to rush off impatiently to the
card-room, and sit there placidly from five o'clock in the
afternoon till one or two o'clock in the morning ! When I
asked my friends why they devoted so much time to this un-
profitable occupation, they always gave me pretty much the
same answer : "What are we to do? We have been reading
or writing official papers all day, and in the evening we like
to have a little relaxation. When w-e come together we have
very little to talk about, for w^e have all read the daily papers
and nothing more. The best thing we can do is to sit down
at the card-table, where we can spend our time pleasantly,
without the necessity of talking."

In addition to the daily papers, some people read the
monthly periodicals — big, thick volumes, containing several
serious articles on historical and social subjects, sections of
one or two novels, satirical sketches, and a long review of
home and foreign politics on the model of those in the Revue
des Deux Mondcs. Several of these periodicals are very ably
conducted, and offer to their readers a large amount of valu-
able information ; but I have noticed that the leaves of the
more serious part often remain uncut. The translation of
a sensation novel by the latest French or English favourite
finds many more readers than an article by an historian or a
political economist. As to books, they seem to be very little
read, for during all the time I lived in Novgorod I never
discovered a bookseller's shop, and when I required books
I had to get them sent from St. Petersburg. The local ad-
ministration, it is true, conceived the idea of forming a
museum and circulating library, but in my time the project
was never realised. Of all the magnificent projects that are

* Since the time of my residence in Novgorod, " Yarolash " has boen
replaced by Bridge.

THE PROVINCIAL ASSEMBLY iSi

formed in Russia, only a very small percentage come into
existence, and these are too often very short-lived. The
Russians have learned theoretically what are the wants of the
most advanced civilisation, and are ever ready to rush into
the grand schemes which their theoretical knowledge sug-
gests ; but very few of them really and permanently feel these
wants, and consequently the institutions artificially formed
to satisfy them very soon languish and die. In the provincial
towns the shops for the sale of gastronomic delicacies spring
up and flourish, whilst shops for the sale of intellectual food
are rarely to be met with.

About the beginning of December the ordinary monotony
of Novgorod life is a little relieved by the annual Provincial
Assembly, which sits daily for two or three weeks and dis-
cusses the economic wants of the province.* During this
time a good many landed proprietors, who habitually live on
their estates or in St. Petersburg, collect in the town, and
enliven a little the ordinary society. But as Christmas ap-
proaches the deputies disperse, and again the town becomes
enshrouded in that "eternal stillness" (vetchnaya tishind)
which a native poet has declared to be the essential character-
istic of Russian provincial life.

* Of these assemblies I shall have more to say when I come to describe
the local self-government.

CHAPTER XII

THE TOWNS AND THE MERCANTILE CLASSES

Those who wish to enjoy the illusions produced by scene
painting and stage decorations should never go behind the
scenes. In like manner he who wishes to preserve the de-
lusion that Russian provincial towns are picturesque should
never enter them, but content himself with viewing them
from a distance.

However imposing they may look when seen from the
outside, they will be found on closer inspection, with very
few exceptions, to be little more than villages in disguise.
If they have not a positively rustic, they have at least a
suburban, appearance. The streets are straight and wide,
and are either miserably paved or not paved at all. Trottoirs
are not considered indispensable. The houses are built of
wood or brick, generally one-storied, and separated from
each other by spacious yards. Many of them do not con-
descend to turn their facades to the street. The general
impression produced is that the majority of the burghers have
come from the country, and have brought their country
houses with them. There are few or no shops with mer-
chandise tastefully arranged in the window to tempt the
passer-by. If you wish to make purchases you must go to
the Gostinny Dvor,* or Bazaar, which consists of long sym-
metrical rows of low-roofed, dimly lighted stores, with a
colonnade in front. This is the place where merchants most
do congregate, but it presents nothing of that bustle and
activity which we are accustomed to associate with commercial
life. The shopkeepers stand at their doors or loiter about in
the immediate vicinity waiting for customers. From the
scarcity of these latter I should say that when sales are
effected the profits must be enormous.

* Tliese words moan literally the Guests' Court or Yard. The Gosti —
a word which is etymologically the same as our " host" and " guest " — were
originally the merchants who traded with other towns or other countries.

182

SCARCITY OF LARGE TOWNS 183

In the other parts of the town the air of soHtude and
languor is still more conspicuous. In the great square, or
by the side of the promenade — if the town is fortunate enough
to have one — cows or horses may be seen grazing tranquilly,
without being at all conscious of the incongruity of their
position. And, indeed, it w^ould be strange if they had any
such consciousness, for it does not exist in the minds either
of the police or of the inhabitants. At night the streets may
be lighted merely with a few oil-lamps, which do little more
than render the darkness visible, so that cautious citizens
returning home late often provide themselves with lanterns.
As late as the 'sixties the learned historian, Pogodin, then a
town councillor of ]\Ioscow, opposed the lighting of the city
with gas on the ground that those who chose to go out at
night should carry their lamps with them. The objection
was over-ruled, and Moscow is now fairly well lit, but the
provincial towns are still far from being on the same level.
Some retain their old primitive arrangements, while others
enjoy the luxury of electric lighting.

The scarcity of large towns in Russia is not less remark-
able than their rustic appearance. According to the latest
statistics the number of towns, officially so-called, is 1,321,
but about three-fifths of them have under 5,000 inhabitants,
only 104 have over 25,000, and only ig over 100,000.
These figures indicate plainly that the urban element of the
population is relatively small, and it is declared by the
statisticians to be only 14 per cent., as against 72 per cent,
in Great Britain; but it is now increasing. When the
first edition of this work was published, in 1877, Euro-
pean Russia in the narrower sense of the term — excluding
Finland, the Baltic Provinces, Lithuania, Poland, and the
Caucasus — had only elev^en towns with a population of over
50,000, and now there are thirty-five : that is to say, the
number of such towns has more than trebled. In the other
portions of th(; country a similar increase has taken place.
The towns which have become important industrial and com-
mercial centres have naturally grown most rapidly. For
example, in a period of twelve years (1885-97) the populations
of Lodz, of Ekaterinoslav, of Baku, of Yaroslavl, and of
T>ibau, more than doubled. In the. five largest towns of the

i84 RUSSIA

Empire — St. Petersburg, Moscow, Warsaw, Odessa and
Lodz — the aggregate population has risen during the last
twenty-five years from 2,423,000 to over 5,000,000. In ten
other thriving towns, with populations varying from 50,000
to 282,000, the recent increase in the number of inhabitants
has been almost equally rapid.

That Russia should have taken so long to assimilate
herself in this respect to Western Europe is to be explained
by the geographical and political conditions. Her popula-
tion was not hemmed in by natural or artificial frontiers
strong enough to restrain their expansive tendencies. To the
north, the east, and the south-east there was a boundless
expanse of fertile, uncultivated land, offering a tempting field
for emigration ; and the peasantry have ever shown them-
selves ready to take advantage of their opportunities. In-
stead of improving their primitive system of agriculture,
which requires an enormous area and rapidly exhausts the
soil, they have always found it easier and more profitable to
emigrate and take possession of the virgin land beyond.
Thus the territory — sometimes with the aid of, and some-
times in spite of, the Government — has constantly expanded,
and has already reached the Polar Ocean, the Pacific, and the
northern offshoots of the Himalayas. The little district
around the sources of the Dnieper has grown into a mighty
empire, comprising one-seventh of the land surface of the
globe. Prolific as the Russian race is, its powers of repro-
duction could not keep pace with its territorial expansion,
and consequently the country is still very thinly peopled.
According to the most recent statistics (1910), in the whole
empire there arc abf)ut 164 millions of inhabitants, and the
average density of population is only about nineteen to the
English square mile. Even European Russia, which is, of
course, much more densely populated than the Asiatic pro-
vinces, cannot show, as a whole, more than 63 to the English
square mile, whereas the United Kingdom has about 374.
A people that has such an abundance of land, and can
support itself by agriculture, is naturally not disposed to
devote itself to manufacturing industry and congregate
largely in cities.

For many generation:^ there were other powerful influences

MOVEMENTS OF POPULATION 185

working in the same direction. Of these the most important
was serfage, which was not aboHshed till 1861. That in-
stitution, and the administrative system of which it formed
an essential part, tended to prevent the growth of the towns
by hemming the natural movements of the population.
Peasants, for example, who learned trades, and who ought
to have drifted naturally into the burgher class, were mostly
retained by the master on his estate, where artisans of all
sorts were daily wanted, and the few who were sent to seek
work in the towns were not allowed to settle there
permanently.

Thus the insignificance of the Russian towns is to be
attributed mainly to two causes. The abundance of land
tended to prevent the development of industry, and the little
industry which did exist was prevented by serfage from
collecting in the towns. But this explanation is evidently
incomplete. The same causes existed during the Middle
Ages in Central Europe, and yet, in spite of them, flourishing
cities grew up and played an important part in the social
and political history of Germany. In these cities collected
traders and artisans, forming a distinct social class, dis-
tinguished from the nobles on the one hand, and the sur-
rounding peasantry on the other, by peculiar occupations,
peculiar aims, peculiar intellectual physiognomy, and peculiar
moral conceptions. Why did these important towns and this
burgher class not likewise come into existence in Russia, in
spite of the two preventive causes above mentioned ?

To discuss this question fully it would be necessary to
enter into certain debated points of mediaeval history. All I
can do here is to indicate what seems to me the true
explanation.

In Central Europe, all through the Middle Ages, a per-
petual struggle went on between the various political factors
of which society was composed, and the important towns
were in a certain sense the products of this struggle. They
were preserved and fostered by the mutual rivalry of the
Sovereign, the feudal nobility, and the Church ; and those
who desired to live by trade or industry settled in them in
order to enjoy the protection and immunities which they
afforded. In Russia there was never any political struggle

i86 RUSSIA

of this kind. As soon as the Grand Princes of Moscow,
in the sixteenth century, threw otf the yoke of the Tartars,
and made themselves Tsars of all Russia, their power was
irresistible and uncontested. Complete masters of the situa-
tion, they organised their country as they thought fit. At
first their policy was favourable to the development of the
towns. Perceiving that the mercantile and industrial classes
might be made a rich source of revenue, they separated them
from the peasantry, gave them the exclusive right of trading,
prevented the other classes from competing with them, and
freed them from the authority of the landed proprietors. Had
they carried out this policy in a cautious, rational way, they
might have created a rich burgher class ; but they acted with
true Oriental short-sightedness, and defeated their own pur-
pose, by imposing inordinately heavy taxes, and treating the
urban population as their serfs. The richer merchants were
forced to serve as custom-house officers — often at a great
distance from their domiciles* — and artisans were yearly
summoned to Moscow to do work for the Tsars without
remuneration.

Besides this, the system of taxation was radically defective
and the members of the local administration, who received
no pay and were practically free from control, were merciless
in their exactions. In a word, the Tsars used their power so
stupidly and so recklessly that the industrial and trading
population, instead of fleeing to the towns to secure protec-
tion, fled from them to escape oppression. At length this
emigration from the towns assumed such dimensions that it
was found necessary to prevent it by administrative and legis-
lative measures; and the urban population were legally fixed
in the towns as the rural population were fixed to the soil.
Those who fled were brought back as runaways, and those
who attempted flight a second time were ordered to be
flogged and transported to Siberia. f

With the eighteenth century began a new era in the
history of the towns and of the urban population. Peter the
Great observed, during his travels in Western Europe, that

* Merchants from Yaroslavl, for instance, wore sent to Astrakhan to
collect the custom-dues.

t Sre (he " Uloi:heni6 " (i.e. the laws of Alexis, father of Peter the Great),
cap. xix., S 13-

TOWN-BUILDING 187

national wealth and prosperity reposed chiefly on the enter-
prising, educated middle classes, and he attributed the
poverty of his own country to the absence of this burgher
element. Might not such a class be created in Russia?
Peter unhesitatingly assumed that it might, and set himself
at once to create it in a simple, straightforward way. Foreign
artisans were imported into his dominions, and foreign mer-
chants were invited to trade with his subjects ; young
Russians were sent abroad to learn the useful arts ; efforts
were made to disseminate practical knowledge by the trans-
lation of foreign books and the foundation of schools; all
kinds of trade were encouraged, and various industrial enter-
prises were organised. At the same time the administration
of the towns was thoroughly reorganised after the model of
the ancient free towns of Germany. In place of the old
organisation, which was a slightly modified form of the
rural Commune, they received German municipal institutions,
with burgomasters, town councils, courts of justice, guilds
for the merchants, trade corporations (tsehhi) for the artisans,
and an endless list of instructions regarding the development
of trade and industry, the building of hospitals, sanitary
precautions, the founding of schools, the dispensation of
justice, the organisation of the police, and similar matters.

Catherine II. followed in the same track. If she did less
for trade and industry, she did more in the way of legislating
and writing grandiloquent manifestoes. In the course of her
historical studies she had learned, as she proclaims in one of
her manifestoes, that "from remotest antiquity we every-
where find the memory of town-builders elevated to the same
level as the memory of legislators, and we see that heroes,
famous for their victories, hoped by town-building to give
immortality to their names." As the securing of immortality
for her own name was her chief aim in life, she acted in
accordance with historical precedent, and created 216 towns
in the short space of twenty-three years. This seems a great
work, but it did not satisfy her ambition. She was not only
a student of history, but was at the same time a warm
admirer of the fashionable political philosophy of her time.
That philosophy paid much attention to the ticrs-ctat, which
was then acquiring in France great political importance, and

i88 RUSSIA

Catherine thought that, as she had created a noblesse on
the French model, she might also create a bourgeoisie. For
this purpose she modified the municipal organisation created
by her great predecessor, and granted to all the towns an
Imperial Charter. This charter remained without essential
modification until the publication of the new Municipality-
Law in 1870.

The efforts of the Government to create a rich, intelligent
tiers-etat were not attended with much success. Their in-
fluence was always more apparent in official documents than
in real life. The great mass of the population remained
serfs, fixed to the soil, whilst the nobles — that is to say, all
who possessed a little education — were required for the mili-
tary and civil services. Those who were sent abroad to learn
the useful arts learned little, and made little use of the know-
ledge which they acquired. On their return to their native
country they very soon fell victims to the soporific influence
of the surrounding social atmosphere. The "town build-
ing " had as little practical result. It was an easy matter
to create any number of towns in the official sense of the
term. To transform a village into a town, it was necessary
merely to prepare an iabd, or log-house, for the district court,
another for the police office, a third for the prison, and so
on. On an appointed day the Governor of the province
arrived in the village, collected the officials appointed to
serve in the newly constructed or newly arranged log-houses,
ordered a simple religious ceremony to be performed by the
priest, caused a formal act to be drawn up, and then declared
the town to be "opened." All this required very little creative
eff"ort; to create a spirit of commercial and industrial enter-
prise among the population was a more difficult matter, and
could not be effected by Imperial ukaz.

To animate the newly imported municipal institutions,
which had no root in the traditions and habits of the people,
was a task of equal difficulty. In the West these institutions
had been slowly devised in the course of centuries to meet
real, keenly felt, practical wants. In Russia they were
adopted for the purpose of creating those wants which were
not yet felt. Let the reader imagine our Board of Trade
supplying the masters of fishing smacks with accurate charts,

MUNICIPAL INSTITUTIONS 189

learned treatises on navigation, and detailed instructions for
the proper ventilation of ships' cabins, and he will have some
idea of the effect which Peter's legislation had upon the
towns. The ofhce bearers, elected against their will, were
hopelessly bewildered by the complicated procedure, and
were incapable of understanding the numerous ukazes, which
prescribed to them their multifarious duties, and threatened
the most merciless punishments for sins of omission and com-
mission. Soon, however, it was discovered that the threats
were not nearly so dreadful as they seemed; and accordingly
those municipal authorities who were to protect and enlighten
the burghers "forgot the fear of God and the Tsar," and
extorted so unblushingly that it was found necessary to place
them under the control of Government officials.

The chief practical result of the efforts made by Peter
and Catherine to create a bourgeoisie was that the inhabitants
of the towns were more systematically arranged in categories
for the purpose of taxation, and that the taxes were increased.
All those parts of the new administration which had no direct
relation to the fiscal interests of the Government had very
little vitality in them. The whole system had been arbitrarily
imposed on the people, and had as motor only the Imperial
will. Had that motor power been withdrawn and the
burghers left to regulate their own municipal affairs, the
system would immediately have collapsed. Rathhaus, burgo-
masters, guilds, aldermen, and all the other lifeless shadows
which had been called into existence by Imperial ukaz,
would instantly have vanished into space. In this fact we
have one of the characteristic traits of Russian historical
development compared with that of Western Europe. In
the West, monarchy had to struggle with municipal institu-
tions to prevent them from becoming too powerful ; in
Russia, it had to struggle with them to prevent them from
committing suicide or dying of inanition.

According to Catherine's legislation, which remained in
force until 1870, and still exists in some of its main features,
the towns were divided into three categories : (i) government
towns (gubernskiye gorodd) — that is to say, the chief towns
of provinces or "governments " (gubernii) — in which are con-
centrated the various organs of provincial administration ;

igo RUSSIA

(2) district towns (uyesdniye gorodu), in which resides the
administration of the districts (uyesdi) into which the pro-
vinces are divided ; and (3) supernumerary towns {sashtatniye
gorodd), which have no particular significance in the terri-
torial administration.

In all these the municipal organisation is the same.
Leaving out of consideration those persons who happen to
reside in the towns but in reality belong to the noblesse, the
clergy, or the lower ranks of officials, we may say that the
town population is composed of three groups : the merchants
(kuptsi), the burghers in the narrower sense of the term
{meshtchanye), and the artisans (tsekhoviye). These cate-
gories are not hereditary castes, like the nobles, the clergy,
and the peasantry. A noble may become a merchant, or a
man may be one year a burgher, the next year an artisan,
and the third year a merchant, if he changes his occupation
and pays the necessary dues. But the categories form, for
the time being, distinct corporations, each possessing a
peculiar organisation and peculiar privileges and obligations.

Of these three groups, the first in the scale of dignity is
that of the merchants. It is chiefly recruit'ed from the
burghers and the peasantry. Anyone who wishes to engage
in commerce inscribes himself in one of the three guilds,
according to the amount of his capital and the nature of the
operations in which he wishes to embark, and as soon as he
has paid the required dues he becomes ofificially a merchant.
As soon as he ceases to pay these dues he ceases to be a
merchant in the legal sense of the term, and returns to the
class to which he formerly belonged. There are some
families whose members have belonged to the merchant class
for several generations, and the law speaks about a certain
"velvet-book" (bdrkhatnaya kniga) in which their names
should be inscribed, but in reality they do not form a distinct
category, and they descend at once from their privileged
position as soon as they cease to pay the annual guild dues.

The artisans form the connecting link between the town
population and the peasantry, for peasants often enrol them-
selves in the trades corporations or tsekhi, without severing
temporarily their connection with the rural Communes to
which they belong. Each trade or handicraft constitutes a

THE TOWN COUNCIL 191

tsekh, at the head of which stands an elder and two assistants,
elected by the members; and all the tsekhi together form a
corporation under an elected head {Remeslenny Golovd),
assisted by a council composed of the elders of the various
tsekhi. It is the duty of this council and its president to
regulate all matters connected with the tsekhi, and to see that
the multifarious regulations regarding masters, journeymen,
and apprentices are duly observed. So much for the theory;
in reality, the tsekhi have been practically abolished by recent
legislation.

The nondescript class, composed of those who are in-
scribed as permanent inhabitants of the towns but w'ho do
not belong to any guild or tsekh, constitutes what is called
the burghers in the narrower sense of the term. Like the
other two categories, they form a separate corporation with
an elder and an administrative bureau.

Such is in theory the organisation of the urban popula-
tion; in reality it differs in different localities, and everyw^here
in recent years it has been slowly divesting itself of mediaeval
forms and adapting itself to modern requirements.

In 1870 the entire municipal administration was re-
organised, and the Town Council (Gorodskdya Diima), which
formed under the previous system the connecting link between
the old-fashioned corporations, and was composed exclusively
of members of these bodies, became a genuine representative
body composed of householders, irrespective of the social
class to which they might belong. A noble, provided he
was a house proprietor, could become Town Councillor or
Mayor, and in this way a certain amount of vitality and a
progressive spirit were infused into the municipal administra-
tion. As a consequence of this change the schools, hospitals,
and other benevolent institutions were much improved, the
streets were kept cleaner and somewhat better paved, and
for a time it seemed as if the towns in Russia might gradually
rise to the level of those of Western Europe. But the charm
of novelty, which so often works wonders in Russia, soon
wore off. After a few years of strenuous effort the best
citizens no longer came forward as candidates, and the office
bearers selected no longer displayed so much zeal and in-
telligence in the discharge of their duties.

192 RUSSIA

In these circumstances the Government felt called upon
again to intervene. By a decree dated nth June, 1892, it
introduced a new series of reforms, by which the municipal
self-government was placed more under the direction and
control of the centralised bureaucracy, and the attendance of
the Town Councillors at the periodical meetings was declared
to be obligatory, recalcitrant members being threatened with
reprimands and fines.

This last fact speaks volumes for the low vitality of the
institutions and the prevalent popular apathy with regard to
municipal affairs. Nor was the unsatisfactory state of things
much improved by the new reforms ; on the contrary, the
increased interference of the regular officials tended rather to
weaken the vitality of the urban self-government, and the
so-called reform was pretty generally condemned as a need-
lessly reactionary measure. We have here, in fact, a case
of what has often occurred in the administrative history of
the Russian Empire since the time of Peter the Great, and
to which I shall again have occasic^ to refer. The central
authority, finding itself incompetent to do all that is required
of it, and wishing to make a display of Liberalism, accords
large concessions in the direction of local autonomy; and
when it discovers that the new institutions do not accomplish
all that was expected of them, and are not quite so sub-
servient and obsequious as is considered desirable, it returns
in a certain measure to the old principles of centralised
bureaucracy.

The great development of trade and industry in recent
years has, of course, enriched the mercantile classes, and has
introduced into them a more highly educated element, drawn
chiefly from the noblesse, which formerly eschewed such
occupations ; but it has not yet affected very deeply the mode
of life of those who have sprung from the old merchant
families and the peasantry. When a merchant, contractor,
or manufacturer of the old type becomes wealthy he builds
for himself a fine house, or buys and thoroughly repairs the
house of some ruined noble, and spends money freely on
parquet floors, large mirrors, malachite tables, grand pianos
by the best makers, and other articles of furniture made of
the most costly materials. Occasionally — especially on the

A RICH MERCHANT'S HOUSEHOLD 193

occasion of a marriage or a death in the family — lie will
give magnificent banquets, and expend enormous sums on
gigantic sterlets, choice caviare, foreign fruits, champagne,
and all manner of costly delicacies. But this lavish, osten-
tatious expenditure does not affect the ordinary current
of his daily life. As you enter those gaudily furnished
rooms you can perceive at a glance that they are not for
ordinary use. You notice a rigid symmetry and an inde-
scribable bareness which inevitably suggest that the original
arrangements of the upholsterer have never been modified or
supplemented. The truth is that by far the greater part of
the house is used only on state occasions. The host and
his family live downstairs in small, dirty rooms, furnished
in a very different, and for them more comfortable, style.
At ordinary times the fine rooms are closed, and the fine
furniture carefully covered.

If you make a visite de digestion after an entertainment,
you will probably have some difficulty in gaining admission
by the front door. When you have knocked or rung several
times, someone will come round from the back regions and
ask you what you want. Then follows another long pause,
and at last footsteps are heard approaching from within.
The bolts are drawn, the door is opened, and you are led
up to a spacious drawing-room. At the wall opposite the
windows, there is sure to be a sofa, and before it an oval
table. At each end of the table, and at right-angles to the
sofa, there will be a row of three arm-chairs. The other
chairs will be symmetrically arranged round the room.
In a few minutes the host will appear, in his long double-
breasted black coat and well-polished long boots. His hair
is parted in the middle, and his beard shows no trace of
scissors or razor.

After the customary greetings have been exchanged,
glasses of tea, with slices of lemon and preserves, or perhaps
a bottle of champagne, are brought in by way of refreshment.
The female members of the family you must not expect to
see, unless you are an intimate friend; for the old-fashioned
merchants still retain something of that female seclusion
which was in vogue among the upper classes before the time
of Peter the Great. The host himself will probably be an

H

194 RUSSIA

intelligent, but totally uneducated and decidedly taciturn,
man. About the weather and the crops he may talk fluently
enough, but he will not show much inclination to go beyond
these topics. You may, perhaps, desire to converse with
him on the subject with which he is best acquainted — the
trade in which he is himself engaged; but if you make the
attempt, you will certainly not gain much information, and
you may possibly meet with such an incident as once hap-
pened to my travelling companion, a Russian gentleman
who had been commissioned by two learned societies to
collect information regarding the grain trade. When he
called on a merchant who had promised to assist him in
his investigations, he was hospitably received ; but when
he began to speak about the grain trade of the district, the
merchant suddenly interrupted him, and proposed to tell
him a story. The story w^as as follows : —

Once on a time a rich landed proprietor had a son, who
was a thoroughly spoilt child ; and one day the boy said
to his father that he wished all the young serfs to come and
sing before the door of the house. After some attempts at
dissuasion the request was granted, and the young people
assembled; but as soon as they began to sing, the boy
rushed out and drove them away.

When the merchant had told this apparently pointless
story at great length, and with much circumstantial detail,
he paused a little, poured some tea into his saucer, drank
it off, and then inquired, "Now what do you think was the
reason of this strange conduct ? "

My friend replied that the riddle surpassed his powers
of divination.

"Well," said the merchant, looking hard at him, with
a knowing grin, "there was no reason; and all the boy
could say was, 'Go away, go away! I've changed my
mind; I've changed my mind'" (poshli von; otkhotyel).

There was no possibility of mistaking the point of the
story. My friend took the hint and departed.

The Russian merchant's love of ostentation is of a
peculiar kind—something entirely different from English
snobbery. He may delight in gaudy reception rooms,
magnificent dinners, fast trotters, costly furs; or he may

OSTENTATION OF THE RICH 195

display his riches by princely donations lo churches,
monasteries, or benevolent institutions; but in all this he
never affects to be other than he really is. He habitually
wears a costume which designates plainly his social position ;
he makes no attempt ^to adopt tine manners or elegant
tastes ; and he never seeks to gain admission to what is
called in Russia la societe. Having no desire to seem what
he is not, he has a plain, unaffected manner, and sometimes
a quiet dignity, which contrasts favourably with the affected
manner of those nobles of the lower ranks who make pre-
tensions to being highly educated and strive to adopt the
outward forms of French culture. At his great dinners,
it is true, the merchant likes to see among his guests as
many "generals"- — that is to say, official personages — as
possible, and especially those who happen to have a grand
cordon; but he never dreams of tli^reby establishing an
intimacy with these personages, or of being invited by them
in return. It is perfectly understood by both parties that
nothing of the kind is meant. The invitation is given and
accepted from quite different motives. The merchant has
the satisfaction of seeing at his table men of high official
rank, and feels that the consideration which he enjoys among
people of his own class is thereby augmented. If he succeeds
in obtaining the presence of three generals, he obtains a
victory over a rival who cannot obtain more than two. The
general, on his side, gets a first-rate dinner, a la russe, and
acquires an undefined right to request subscriptions for
public objects or benevolent institutions.

Of course this undefined right is commonly nothing more
than a mere tacit understanding, but in certain cases the
subject is expressly mentioned. I know of one case in which
a' regular bargain was made. A Moscow magnate was
invited by a merchant to a dinner, and consented to go in
full uniform, with all his decorations, on condition that the
merchant should subscribe a certain sum to a benevolent
institution in which he was particularly interested. It is
whispered that such bargains are sometimes made, not on
behalf of benevolent institutions, but simply in the interest
of the gentleman who accepts the invitation. I cannot
believe that there are many official personages who would

196 RUSSIA

consent to let themselves out as table decorations, but that
it may happen is proved by the following incident, which
accidentally came to my knowledge. A rich merchant of the

town of T once requested the Governor of the Province

to honour a family festivity with his presence, and
added that he would consider it a special favour if the
" Governoress " would enter an appearance. To this latter
request his Excellency made many objections, and at last
let the petitioner understand that her Excellency could not
possibly be present because she had no velvet dress that
could bear comparison with those of several merchants'
wives in the town. Two days after the interview a piece
of the finest velvet that could be procured in Moscow was
received by the Governor from an unknown donor, and
his wife was thus enabled to be present at the festivity, to
the complete satisfaction of all parties concerned.

It is worthy of remark that the merchants recognise no
aristocracy but that of official rank. Many merchants would
willingly give twenty pounds for the presence of an "actual
State-Councillor," who perhaps never heard of his grand-
father, but who can show a grand cordon; whilst they would
not give twenty pence for the presence of an undecorated
Prince without official rank, though he might be able to
trace his pedigree up to the half-mythical Rurik. Of the
latter they would probably say, " Kto ikh znaet ? " — who
knows what sort of a fellow he is ? The former, on the
contrary, whoever his father and grandfather may have been,
possesses unmistakable marks of the Tsar's favour, which,
in the merchant's opinion, is infinitely more important than
any rights or pretensions founded on hereditary titles or
long pedigrees.

Some marks of Imperial favour the old-fashioned
merchants strive to obtain for themselves. They do not
dream of grands cordons — that is far beyond their most
sanguine expectations — but they do all in their power to
obtain those lesser decorations which are granted to the
mercantile class. For this purpose the most common
expedient is a liberal subscription to some benevolent institu-
tion, and occasionally a regular bargain is made. I know
of at least one instance where the kind of decoration was

OFFICIAL DECORATIONS i97

expressly stipulated. The affair illustrates so well the com-
mercial character of these transactions that I venture to
state the facts as related to me by the official chiefly con-
cerned. A merchant subscribed to a society which enjoyed
the patronage of a Grand Duchess a considerable sum of
money, under the express condition that he should receive
in return a St. Vladimir Cross. Instead of the desired
decoration, which was considered too much for the sum
subscribed, a cross of St. Stanislas was granted; but the
donor was dissatisfied with the latter, and demanded that
his money should be returned to him. The demand had to
be complied with, and as an Imperial gift cannot be retracted
the merchant had his Stanislas Cross for nothing.

This traffic in decorations has had its natural result. Like
paper money issued in too large quantities, the decorations
have fallen in value. The gold medals which were formerly
much coveted and worn with pride by the rich merchants —
suspended by a ribbon round the neck — are now little sought
after. In like manner the inordinate respect for official
personages has considerably diminished. Fifty years ago
the provincial merchants vied with each other in their desire
to entertain any great dignitary who honoured their town
with a visit, but now they seek rather to avoid this expensive
and barren honour. When they do accept the honour, they
fulfil the duties of hospitality in a most liberal spirit. I
have sometimes, when living as an honoured guest in a rich
merchant's house, found it difficult to obtain anything
simpler than sterlet, caviare, and champagne.

The two great blemishes on the character of the Russian
merchants as a class are, according to general opinion, their
ignorance and their dishonesty. As to the former of these
there cannot be much difference of opinion. In the last
generation many of the merchants could neither read nor
write, and were forced to keep their accounts in their memory,
or by means of ingenious hieroglyphics, intelligible only
to the inventor. Others could decipher the calendar and the
lives of the saints, could sign their names with tolerable
facility, and could make the simpler arithmetical calculations
with the help of the shfchcty, a little calculating instrument
composed of wooden balls strung on brass wires, which

198 RUSSIA

resembles the "abaca" of the old Romans, and is universally
used in Russia. It ^vas only the minority who understood
the mysteries of regular book-keeping, and of these very fev^
could make any pretensions to being educated men.

All this is rapidly undergoing a radical change. Children
are now much better educated than their parents, and the
next generation will doubtless make further progress, so that
the old-fashioned type above described has almost disap-
peared. Already there are not a few of the younger genera-
tion— especially among the wealthy manufacturers of Moscow
• — who have been educated abroad, who may be described as
"tout a fait civilises," and whose mode of life differs little
from that of the richer nobles ; but they remain outside
fashionable society, and constitute a "set" of their own.

As to the dishonesty which is said to be so common
among the Russian commercial classes, it is more difficult
to form an accurate judgment. That an enormous amount
of unfair dealing does exist there can be no possible doubt,
but in this matter a foreigner is likely to be unduly severe.
We are apt to apply unflinchingly our own standard of
commercial morality, and to forget that trade in Russia is
only emerging from that primitive condition in which fixed
prices and moderate profits are entirely unknown. And
when we happen to detect positive dishonesty, it seems to
us especially heinous, because the trickery employed is more
primitive and awkward than that to which we are accustomed.
Trickery in weighing and measuring, for instance, which is
by no means unknown in Russia, is likely to make us more
indignant than those ingenious methods of adulteration
which are practised nearer home, and are regarded by many
as almost legitimate. Besides this, foreigners who go to
Russia and embark in speculations without possessing any
adequate knowledge of the character, customs, and language
of the people positively invite spoliation, and ought to blame
themselves rather than the people who profit by their
ignorance.

All this, and much more of the same kind, mav be fairly
urged in mitigation of the severe judgments which foreign
merchants commonly pass on Russian commercial morality,
but these judgments cannot be reversed by such argumenta-

COMMERCIAL MORALITY 199

tion. The dishonesty and rascaUty which exist among the
merchants are fully recognised by the Russians themselves.
In all moral affairs the lower classes in Russia are very
lenient in their judgments, and are strongly disposed, like
the Americans, to admire what is called in Transatlantic
phraseology "a smart man," though the smartness is known
to contain a large admixture of dishonesty; and yet the
vox populi in Russia emphatically declares that the merchants
as a class are unscrupulous and dishonest. There is a rude
popular play, in which the Devil, as principal dramatis
persona, succeeds in cheating all manner and conditions of
men, but is finally over-reached by a genuine Russian
merchant. When this play used to be acted in the Carnival
Theatre in St. Petersburg, the audience invariably agreed
with the moral of the plot.

If this play were acted in the southern towns near the
coast of the Black Sea it would be necessary to modify it
considerably, for here, in company with Jews, Greeks, and
Armenians, the Russian merchants seem honest by com-
parison. As to Greeks and Armenians, I know not which
of the two nationalities deserves the palm, but it seems that
both are surpassed by the Children of Israel. "How these
Jews do business," I have heard a Russian merchant of this
region exclaim, "I cannot understand. They buy up w'heat
in the villages at eleven roubles per tchctvert, transport it
to the coast at their own expense, and sell it to the exporters
at ten roubles ! And yet they contrive to make a profit !
It is said that the Russian trader is cunning, but here ' our
brother ' (i.e. the Russian) can do nothing." The truth of
this statement I had abundant opportunities of confirming
by personal investigations on the spot.

If I might express a general opinion regarding Russian
commercial morality, I should say that trade in Russia is
carried on very much on the same principle as horse-dealing
in England. A man who washes to buy or sell must trust
to his own knowledge and acuteness, and if he gets the
worst of a bargain or lets himself be deceived, he has himself
to blame. Commercial Englishmen on arriving in Russia
rarely understand this, and when they know it theoretically
they are too often unable, from their ignorance of the

200 RUSSIA

language, the laws, and the customs of the people, to turn
their theoretical knowledge to account. They indulge, there-
fore, at first in endless invectives against the prevailing dis-
honesty; but gradually, when they have paid what Germans
call Lchrgeld, they accommodate themselves to circum-
stances, take large profits to counterbalance bad debts,
and generally succeed — if they have sufficient energy,
mother-wit, and capital — in making a very handsome
income.

The old race of British merchants, however, is rapidly
dying out, and I greatly fear that the rising generation will
not be equally successful. Times have changed. It is no
longer possible to amass large fortunes in the old easy-going
fashion. Every year the conditions alter, and the competi-
tion increases. In order to foresee, understand, and take
advantage of the changes, one must have far more knowledge
of the country than the men of the old school possessed, and
it seems to me that the young generation have still less of
that knowledge than their predecessors. Unless some change
takes place in this respect, the German merchants, who have
generally a much better commercial education and are much
better acquainted with their adopted country, will ultimately,
I believe, expel their British rivals. Already many branches
of commerce formerly carried on by Englishmen have passed
into their hands.

It must not be supposed that the unsatisfactory organi-
sation of the Russian commercial world is the result of
any radical peculiarity of the Russian character. All new
countries have to pass through a similar state of things, and
in Russia there are already premonitory symptoms of a
change for the better. For the present, it is true, the exten-
sive construction of railways and the rapid development of
banks and limited liability companies have opened up a new
and wide field for all kinds of commercial swindling; but,
on the other hand, there are now in every large town a
certain number of merchants who carry on business in the
West-European manner, and have learnt by experience that
honesty is the best policy. The success which many of these
have obtained will doubtless cause their example to be
followed. The old spirit of caste and routine which has long

THE NEW METHODS 201

animated the merchant class is rapidly disappearing:^, and
not a few nobles are now exchanging country life and the
service of the State for industrial and commercial enterprises.
In this way is being formed the nucleus of that wealthy,
enlightened bourgeoisie which Catherine endeavoured to
create by legislation ; but many years must elapse before this
class acquires sufficient social and political significance to
deserve the title of a tiers-etat.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PASTORAL TRIBES OF THE STEPPE

When I had spent a couple of years or more in the northern
and north-central provinces — the land of forests and of
agriculture conducted on the three-field system, with here
and there a town of respectable antiquity — I determined to
visit, for purposes of comparison and contrast, the south-
eastern region, which possesses no forests nor ancient towns,
and corresponds to the Far West in the United States of
America. My point of departure was Yaroslavl — a town on
the right bank of the Volga to the north-east of Moscow —
and thence I sailed down the river during three days on a
large, comfortable steamer to Samara, the chief town of the
province or "government" of the name. Here I left the
steamer and prepared to make a journey into the eastern
Hinterland.

Samara is a new town, a child of the last century. At
the time of my first visit, nearly forty years ago, it recalled
by its unfinished appearance the new towns of America.
Many of the houses were of wood. The streets were still
in such a primitive condition that after rain they were almost
impassable from mud, and in dry, gusty weather they
generated thick clouds of blinding, suffocating dust. Before
I had been many days in the place I witnessed a dust hurri-
cane, during which it was impossible at certain moments
to see from my window the houses on the other side of the
street. Amidst such primitive surroundings the colossal
new church seemed a little out of keeping, and it occurred
to my practical British mind that some of the money
expended on its construction might have been more profitably
employed. But the Russians have their own ideas of the
fitness of things. Religious after their own fashion, they
subscribe money liberally for ecclesiastical purposes —
especially for the building and decoration of their churches.

IN SAMARA 203

Besides this, the Government considers that every chief
town of a province should possess a cathedral.

In its early days Samara was one of the outposts of
Russian colonisation, and had often to take precautions
against the raids of the nomadic tribes living in the vicinity;
but the agricultural frontier has since been pushed far for-
ward to the east and south, and the province was until lately,
despite occasional droughts, one of the most productive in
the Empire. The town is the chief market of this region,
and therein lies its importance. The grain is brought by
the peasants from great distances, and stored in large
granaries by the merchants, who send it to Moscow or St.
Petersburg. In former days this was a very tedious opera-
tion. The boats containing the grain were towed by horses
or stout peasants up the rivers and through the canals for
hundreds of miles. Then came the period of cabcstans^--
unwieldy machines propelled by means of anchors and wind-
lasses. Now these primitive methods of transport have dis-
appeared. The grain is either dispatched by rail or put into
gigantic barges, which are towed up the river by powerful
tug-steamers to some point connected with the great network
of railways.

When I had visited the Cathedral and the granaries I
felt that I had seen all the lions — not very formidable lions,
truly— of the place. I then proceeded to inspect the kumyss
establishments, pleasantly situated near the town. Here I
found a considerable number of patients — mostly consump-
tive— who drank enormous quantities of fermented mare's
milk, and who declared that they received great benefit from
this modern health-restorer.

What interested me more than the lions of the town or
the suburban kumyss establishments were the offices of the
local administration, where I found in the archives much
statistical and other information of the kind I was in search
of, regarding the economic condition of the province
generally, and of the emancipated peasantry in particular.
Having filled my notebooks with material of this sort, I
proceeded to verify and complete it by visiting some charac-
teristic villages and questioning the inhabitants. For the
student of Russian affairs who wishes to arrive at real, as

204 RUSSIA

distinguished from official, truth, this is a not altogether
superfluous operation.

When I had thus made the acquaintance of the sedentary-
agricultural population in several districts I journeyed east-
wards with the intention of visiting the Bashkirs, a Tartar
tribe which still preserved — so at least I was assured— its old
nomadic habits. My reasons for undertaking this journey
were twofold. In the first place I was desirous of seeing with
my own eyes some remnants of those terrible nomadic tribes
which had at one time conquered Russia and long threatened
to over-run Europe — those Tartar hordes which gained, by
their irresistible force and relentless cruelty, the reputation
of being "the scourge of God." Besides this, I had long
wished to study the conditions of pastoral life, and con-
gratulated myself on having found a convenient opportunity
of doing so.

As I proceeded eastwards I noticed a change in the
appearance of the villages. The ordinary wooden houses,
with their high sloping roofs, gradually gave place to flat-
roofed huts, built of a peculiar kind of unburnt bricks,
composed of mud and straw. I noticed, too, that the popu-
lation became less and less dense, and the amount of fallow
land proportionately greater. The peasants were evidently
richer than those near the Volga, but they complained — as
the Russian peasant always does — that they had not land
enough. In answer to my inquiries why they did not use
the thousands of acres that were lying fallow around them,
they explained that they had already raised crops on that
land for several successive years, and that consequently they
must now allow it to "rest."

In one of the villages through which I passed I met with
a very characteristic little incident. The village was called
Samov61naya Ivanovka — that is to sav, "Ivanovka the Self-
willed" or "the Non-authorised." Whilst our horses were
being changed my travelling companion, in the course of
conversation with a group of peasants, inquired about the
origin of this extraordinary name, and discovered a curious
bit of local history. The founders of the village had settled
on the land without the permission of the absentee owner,
and obstinately resisted all attempts at eviction. Again and

RUSSIAN MENDACITY 205

again troops had been sent to drive them away, but as soon
as the troops retired these "self-willed" people returned and
resumed possession, till at last the proprietor, who lived in
St. Petersburg or some other distant place, became weary
of the contest and allowed them to remain. The various
incidents were related with much circumstantial detail, so that
the narration lasted perhaps half an hour. All this time I
listened attentively, and when the story was finished I took
out my notebook in order to jot down the facts, and asked
in what year the affair had happened. No answer was given
to my question. The peasants merely looked at each other
in a significant way and kept silence. Thinking that my
question had not been understood, I asked it a second time,
repeating a part of what had been related. To my astonish-
ment and utter discomfiture they all declared that they had
never related anything of the sort ! In despair I appealed
to my friend, and asked him whether my ears had deceived
me — whether I was labouring under some strange hallucina-
tion. Without giving me any reply he simply smiled and
turned away.

When we had left the village and were driving along
in our tarantass the mystery was satisfactorily cleared up.
My friend explained to me that I had not at all misunder-
stood what had been related, but that my abrupt question
and the sight of my notebook had suddenly aroused the
peasants' suspicions. "They evidently suspected," he con-
tinued, "that you were a tchinovnik, and that you wished
to use to their detriment the knowledge you had acquired.
They thought it safer, therefore, at once to deny it all. You
don't yet understand the Russian muzhik ! "

In this last remark I was obliged to concur, but since
that time I have come to know the muzhik better, and an
incident of the kind would now no longer surprise me. From
a long series of observations I have come to the conclusion
that the great majority of the Russian peasants, when deal-
ing with the authorities, consider the most patent and bare-
faced falsehoods as a fair means of self-defence. Thus, for
example, when a muzhik is implicated in a criminal affair,
and a preliminary investigation is being made, he probably
begins by constructing an elaborate story to explain the

2o6 RUSSIA

facts and exculpate himself. The story may be a tissue of
self-evident falsehoods from beginning to end, but he defends
it valiantly as long as possible. When he perceives that
the position which he has taken up is utterly untenable, he
declares openly that all he has said is false, and that he
wishes to make a new declaration. This second declaration
may have the same fate as the former one, and then he pro-
poses a third. Thus groping his way, he tries various stories
till he finds one that Seems proof against all objections. In
the fact of his thus telling lies there is of course nothing
remarkable, for criminals in all parts of the world have a
tendency to deviate from the truth when they fall into the
hands of justice. The peculiarity is that he retracts his
statements with the composed air of a chess-player who
requests his opponent to let him take back an inadvertent
move. Under the old system of procedure, which was
abolished in the 'sixties, clever criminals often contrived by
means of this simple device to have their trial postponed
for many years.

Such incidents naturally astonish a foreigner, and he is
apt, in consequence, to pass a very severe judgment on the
Russian peasantry in general. The reader may remember
Karl Karl'itch's remarks on the subject. These remarks I
have heard repeated in various forms by Germans in all
parts of the country, and there must be a certain amount of
truth in them, for even an eminent Slavophil once publicly
admitted that the peasant is prone to perjury.* It is neces-
sary, however, as it seems to me, to draw a distinction. In
the ordinary intercourse of peasants among themselves, or
with people in whom they have confidence, I do not believe
that the habit of Iving is abnormallv developed. It is only
when the muzhik comes in contact with the authorities that
he shows himself an expert fabricator of falsehoods. In
this there is nothing that need surprise us. For ages the
peasantry were exposed to the arbitrary power and ruthless
exactions of those who were placed over them ; and as the
law gave them no means of legally protecting themselves,
their only means of self-defence lay in cunning and deceit.

We have here, I believe, the true explanation of that

* Kir^yefski, in the Russkaya Besida.

A PLEASANT SURPRISE 207

"Oriental mendacity" about which Eastern travellers have
written so mucli. It is simply the result of a lawless state
of society. Suppose a truth-loving Englishman falls into
the hands of brigands or savages. Will he not, if he have
merely an ordinary moral character, consider himself justified
in inventing a few falsehoods in order to effect his escape?
If so, we have no right to condemn very severely the
hereditary mendacity of those races which have lived for
many generations in a position analogous to that of the
supposed Englishman among brigands. When legitimate
interests cannot be protected by truthfulness and honesty,
prudent people always learn to employ means which experi-
ence has proved to be more effectual. In a country where
the law does not afford protection, the strong man defends
himself by his strength, the weak by cunning and duplicity.
This fully explains the fact that in Turkey the Christians
are less truthful than the Mahometans.

But we have wandered a long way from the road to
Bashkiria. Let us therefore return at once.

Of all the journeys which I made in Russia this was one
of the most agreeable. The weather was bright and warm,
without being unpleasantly hot ; the roads were tolerably
smooth ; the tarantass, which had been hired for the whole
journey, was nearly as comfortable as a tarantass can be;
good milk, eggs, and white bread could be obtained in
abundance; there was not much difficulty in procuring
horses in the villages through which we passed, and the
owners of them were not very extortionate in their demands.
But what most contributed to my comfort was that I was
accompanied by an agreeable, intelligent young Russian,
who kindly undertook to make all the necessary arrange-
ments, and I was thereby freed from those annoyances and
worries which are always encountered in primitive countries
where travelling is not yet a recognised institution. To him
I left the entire control of our movements, passively
acquiescing in everything, and asking no questions as to
what was coming. Taking advantage of my passivity, he
prepared for me one evening a pleasant little surprise.

About sunset we had left a village called Morsha, and
shortly afterwards, fei'ling drowsy, and being warned by my

2o8 RUSSIA

companion that we should have a long, uninteresting drive,
I had lain down in the tarantass and gone to sleep. On
awaking I found that the tarantass had stopped, and that
the stars were shining brightly overhead. A big dog was
barking furiously close at hand, and I heard the voice of
the yamstchik informing us that we had arrived. I at once
sat up and looked about me, expecting to see a village of
some kind, but instead of that I perceived a wide open space,
and at a short distance a group of haystacks. Close to the
tarantass stood two figures in long cloaks, armed with big
sticks, and speaking to each other in an unknown tongue.
My first idea was that we had been somehow led into a
trap, so I drew my revolver in order to be ready for all
emergencies. My companion was still snoring loudly by my
side, and stoutly resisted all my efforts to awake him.

"What's this?" I said, in a gruff, angry voice, to the
yamstchik. "Where have you taken us to?"

"To where I was ordered, master! "

For the purpose of getting a more satisfactory explana-
tion I took to shaking my sleepy companion, but before he
had returned to consciousness the moon shone out brightly
from behind a thick bank of clouds, and cleared up the
mystery. The supposed haystacks turned out to be tents.
The two figures with long sticks, whom I had suspected of
being brigands, were peaceable shepherds, dressed in the
ordinary Oriental khaldt, and tending their sheep, which
were grazing close by. Instead of being in an empty hay-
field, as I had imagined, we had before us a regular Tartar
aoul, such as I had often read about. For a moment I felt
astonished and bewildered. It seemed to me that I had
fallen asleep in Europe and awoke in Asia !

In a few minutes we were comfortably installed in one
of the tents, a circular, cupola-shaped erection, of about
twelve feet in diameter, composed of a framework of light
wooden rods covered with thick felt. It contained no
furniture, except a goodly quantity of carpets and pillows,
which had been formed into a bed for our accommodation.
Our amiable host, who was evidently somewhat astonished
at our unexpected visit, but refrained from asking questions,
soon bade us good-night and retired. We were not, how-

A BASHKIR WELCOME 209

ever, left alone. A large number of black beetles remained
and gave us a welcome in their own peculiar fashion.
Whether they were provided with wings, or made up for
the want of flying appliances by crawling up the sides of
the tent and dropping down on any object they wished to
reach, I did not discover, but certain it is that they some-
how reached our heads— even when we were standing upright
• — and clung to our hair wath wonderful tenacity. Why they
should show such a marked preference for human hair we
could not conjecture, till it occurred to us that the natives
habitually shaved their heads, and that these beetles must
naturally consider a hair-covered cranium a curious novelty
deserving of careful examination. Like all children of
nature they were decidedly indiscreet and troublesome in
their curiosity, but when the light was extinguished they
took the hint and departed.

W^hen we awoke next morning it was broad daylight,
and we found a crowd of natives in front of the tent. Our
arrival was evidently regarded as an important event, and
all the inhabitants of the aoiil were anxious to make our
acquaintance. First our host came forward. He was a short,
slimly-built man, of middle age, with a grave, severe expres-
sion, indicating an unsociable disposition. We afterwards
learned that he was an akhun* — that is to say, a minor
ofificer of the Mahometan ecclesiastical administration, and at
the same time a small trader in silken and woollen stuffs.
With him came the mullah, or priest, a portly old gentle-
man with an open, honest face of the European type, and
a fine grey beard. The other important members of the
little community followed. They were all swarthy in colour,
and had the small eyes and prominent cheek-bones which
are characteristic of the Tartar races, but they had little of
that flatness of countenance and peculiar ugliness which
distinguish the pure Mongol. All of them, with the excep-
tion of the mullah, spoke a little Russian, and used it to
assure us that we were welcome. The children remained
respectfully in the background, and the women, with veiled
faces, eyed us furtively from the doors of the lents.

* I presume this is the same word as aJzhund, well known on the North-
West Frontier of India, where it was applied specially to the late ruler of
Svat.

210 RUSSIA

The aoul consisted of about twenty tents, all constructed
on the same model, and scattered about in sporadic fashion
without the least regard to symmetry. Close by was a water-
course, which appears in some maps as a river, under the
name of Karalyk, but which was at that time merely a succes-
sion of pools containing a dark-coloured liquid. As we more
than suspected that these pools supplied the inhabitants with
water for culinary purposes, the sight was not calculated to
whet our appetites. We turned away, therefore, hurriedly,
and for want of something better to do we watched the
preparations for dinner. These w^ere decidedly primitive.
A sheep was brought near the door of our tent, and there
killed, skinned, cut up into pieces, and put into an immense
pot, under which a fire had been kindled.

The dinner itself was not less primitive than the method
of preparing it. The table consisted of a large napkin
spread in the middle of the tent, and the chairs were repre-
sented by cushions, on which we sat cross-legged. There
were no plates, knives, forks, spoons, or chopsticks. Guests
were expected all to eat out of a common wooden bowl, and
to use the instruments with which Nature had provided them.
The service was performed by the host and his son. The
fare was copious, but not varied — consisting entirely of
boiled mutton, without bread or other substitute, and a little
salted horse-flesh thrown in as an entree.

To eat out of the same dish with half a dozen
Mahometans, who accept their Prophet's injunction about
ablutions in a highly figurative sense, and who are totally
unacquainted with the use of forks and spoons, is not an
agreeable operation, even if one is not much troubled with
religious prejudices; but with these Bashkirs, something
worse than this has to be encountered, for their favourite
method of expressing their esteem and affection for one with
whom they are eating consists in putting bits of mutton,
and sometimes even handfuls of hashed meat, into his
mouth ! When I discovered this unexpected peculiarity in
Bashkir manners and customs, I almost regretted that I had
made a favourable impression upon my new acquaintances.

When the sheep had been devoured, partly by the com-
pany in the tent and partly by a nondescript company

BASHKIR ETIQUETTE 211

outside — for the whole aoul took part in the festivities —
kumyss was served in unlimited quantities. This beverage,
as I have already explained, is mare's milk fermented; but
what here passed under the name was very different from
the kumyss I had tasted in the ctablissements of Samara.
There it was a pleasant, effervescing drink, with only the
slightest tinge of acidity; here it was a "still" liquid,
strongly resembling very thin and very sour butter-milk.
My Russian friend made a wry face on first tasting it, and
I felt inclined at first to do likewise, but noticing that his
grimaces made an unfavourable impression on the audience,
I restrained my facial muscles, and looked as if I liked it.
Very soon I really came to like it, and learned to "drink
fair " with those who had been accustomed to it from their
childhood. By this feat I rose considerablv in the estimation
of the natives; for if one does not drink kumyss one cannot
be sociable in the Bashkir sense of the term, and by acquir-
ing the habit one adopts an essential principle of Bashkir
nationality. I should certainly have preferred having a
cup of it to myself, but I thought it well to conform to the
habits of the country, and to accept the big wooden bowl
when it was passed round. In return my friends made an
important concession in my favour : they allowed me to
smoke as I pleased, though they considered that, as the
Prophet had refrained from tobacco, ordinary mortals should
do the same.

Whilst the "loving-cup" was going round I distributed
some small presents which I had brought for the purpose,
and then proceeded to explain the object of my visit. In the
distant country from which I came — far away to the westward
— I had heard of the Bashkirs as a people possessing many
strange customs, but very kind and hospitable to strangers.
Of their kindness and hospitalitv I had already learned
something by experience, and I hoped they would allow me
to learn something of their mode of life, their customs, their
songs, their history, and their religion, in all of which I
assured them my distant countrymen took a lively interest.

This little after-dinner speech was perhaps not quite in
accordance with Bashkir etiquette, but it made a favourable
impression. There was a decided murmur of approbation,

212 RUSSIA

and those who understood Russian translated my words to
their less accomplished brethren. A short consultation
ensued, and then there was a general shout of " Abdullah !
Abdullah ! " which was taken up and repeated by those
standing outside.

In a few minutes Abdullah appeared, with a big, half-
picked bone in his hand, and the lower part of his face
besmeared with grease. He was a short, thin man, with
a dark, sallow complexion, and a look of premature old age;
but the suppressed smile that played about his mouth and a
tremulous movement of his right eyelid showed plainly that
he had not yet forgotten the fun and frolic of youth. His
dress was of richer and more gaudy material, but at the same
time more tawdry and tattered, than that of the others.
Altogether he looked like an artiste in distressed circum-
stances, and such he really was. At a word and a sign
from the host he laid aside his bone and drew from under
his green silk khaldt a small wind-instrument resembling a
flute or flageolet. On this he played a number of native
airs. The first melodies which he played reminded me of
a Highland pibroch — at one moment low, solemn, and
plaintive, then gradually rising into a soul-stirring, martial
strain, and again descending to a plaintive wail. The
amount of expression which he put into his simple instru-
ment was truly marvellous. Then, passing suddenly from
grave to gay, he played a series of light, merry airs, and
some of the younger onlookers got up and performed a
dance as boisterous and ungraceful as an Irish jig.

This Abdullah turned out to be for me a most valuable
acquaintance. He was a kind of Bashkir troubadour, well
acquainted not only with the music, but also with the
traditions, the history, the superstitions, and the folk-lore of
his people. By the akhun and the mullah he was regarded
as a frivolous, worthless fellow, who had no regular, respect-
able means of gaining a livelihood, but among the men of
less rigid principles he was a general favourite. As he spoke
Russian fluently I could converse with him freely without
the aid of an interpreter, and he willingly placed his store
of knowledge at my disposal. When in the company of
the akhun he was always solemn and taciturn, but as soon

A VALUABLE ACQUAINTANCE 213

as he was relieved of that dignitary's presence he became
lively and communicative.

Another of my new acquaintances was equally useful to
me in another way. This was Mehemet Zian, who was not
so intelligent as Abdullah, but much more sympathetic. In
his open, honest face, and kindly, unaffected manner, there
was something so irresistibly attractive that before I had
knowm him twenty-four hours a sort of friendship had sprung
up between us. He was a tall, muscular, broad-shouldered
man, with features that suggested a mixture of European
blood. Though already past middle age, he was still wiry
and active — so active that he could, when on horseback, pick
a stone off the ground without dismounting. He could, how-
ever, no longer perform this feat at full gallop, as he had
been wont to do in his youth. His geographical knowledge
was extremely limited and inaccurate — his mind being in this
respect like those old Russian maps in which the nations
of the earth and a good many peoples who had never more
than a mythical existence are jumbled together in hopeless
confusion — but his geographical curiosity was insatiable.
My travelling-map — the first thing of the kind he had ever
seen— interested him deeply. When he found that by simply
examining it and glancing at my compass I could tell him
the direction and distance of places he knew, his face was
like that of a child who sees for the first time a conjurer's
performance; and when I explained the trick to him, and
taught him to calculate the distance to Bokhara — the sacred
city of the Mussulmans of that region — his delight was un-
bounded. Gradually I perceived that to possess such a map
had become the great object of his ambition. Unfortunately
I could not at once gratify him as I should have wished,
because I had a long journey before me and I had no other
map of the region, but I promised to find ways and means
of sending him one, and I kept my w'ord by means of a
native of the Karalyk district whom I discovered in Samara.
I did not add a compass because I could not find one in
the town, and it would have been of little use to him because,
like a true child of Nature, he always knew the cardinal
points by the sun or the stars. Some years later I had the
satisfaction of learning, through no less a personage than

214 RUSSIA

Count Tolstoy, that the map had reached its destination
safely. One evening, at the house of a friend in Moscow,
I was presented to the great novelist, and as soon as he heard
my name he said, "Oh! I know you already, and I know
your friend Mehemet Zian. When I passed a night this
summer in his aoul he showed me a map with your signature
in the margin, and taught me how to calculate the distance
to Bokhara ! "

If Mehemet knew little of foreign countries he was
thoroughly well acquainted with his own, and repaid me
most liberally for my elementary lessons in geography.
With him I visited the neighbouring aouls. In all of them
he had numerous acquaintances, and everywhere we were
received with the greatest hospitality, except on one occasion
when we paid a visit of ceremony to a famous robber who
was the terror of the whole neighbourhood. Certainly he
was one of the most brutalised specimens of humanity I
have ever encountered. He made no attempt to be amiable,
and I felt inclined to leave his tent at once; but I saw that
my friend wanted to conciliate him, so I restrained my feel-
ings and eventually established tolerably good relations with
him. As a rule I avoided festivities, partly because I knew
that my hosts were mostly poor and would not accept pay-
ment for the slaughtered sheep, and partly because I had
reason to apprehend that they would express to me their
esteem and affection more Bashkirico ; but in kumyss drink-
ing, the ordinary occupation of these people when they have
nothing to do, I had to indulge to a most inordinate extent.
On these expeditions Abdullah generally accompanied us,
and rendered valuable service as interpreter and troubadour.
Mehemet could express himself in Russian, but his vocabu-
lary failed him as soon as the conversation ran above very
ordinary topics; Abdullah, on the contrary, was a first-rate
interpreter, and under the influence of his musical pipe and
lively talkativeness new acquaintances became sociable and
communicative. Poor Abdullah ! He was a kind of universal
genius; but his faded, tattered khaldt showed only too plainly
that in Bashkiria, as in more civilised countries, universal
genius and the artistic temperament lead to poverty rather
than wealth.

A PHILOSOPHICAL THEORY 215

I have no intention of troubling the reader with the
miscellaneous facts which, with the assistance of these two
friends, 1 succeeded in collecting — indeed, I could not if I
would, for the notes I then made were afterwards lost — but
I wish to say a few words about the actual economic con-
dition of the Bashkirs. They are at present passing from
pastoral to agricultural life; and it is not a little interesting
to note the causes which induce them to make this change,
and the way in which it is made.

Philosophers have long held a theory of social develop-
ment according to which men were at first hunters, then
shepherds, and lastly agriculturists. How far this theory is
in accordance with reality we need not for the present inquire,
but we may examine an important part of it and ask our-
selves the question, Why did pastoral tribes adopt agricul-
ture? The common explanation is that they changed their
mode of life in consequence of some ill-defmed, fortuitous
circumstances. A great legislator arose amongst them and
taught them to till the soil, or they came in contact with
an agricultural race and adopted the customs of their neigh-
bours. Such explanations must appear unsatisfactory to
anyone who has lived with a pastoral people. Pastoral life
is so incomparably more agreeable than the hard lot of the
agriculturist, and so much more in accordance with the
natural indolence of human nature, that no great legislator,
though he had the wisdom of a Solon and the eloquence of
a Demosthenes, could possibly induce his fellow-country-
men to pass voluntarily from the one to the other. Of all
the ordinary means of gaining a livelihood— with the excep-
tion, perhaps, of mining— agriculture is the most laborious,
and is never voluntarily adopted by men who have not been
accustomed to it from their childhood. The life of a pastoral
race, on the contrary, is a perennial holiday, and I can
imagine nothing except the prospect of starvation which
could induce men who live by their flocks and herds to
make the transition to agricultural life.

The prospect of starvation is, in fact, the cause of the
transition — probably in all cases, and certainly in the case
of the Bashkirs. So long as they had abundance of
pasturage they never thought of tilling the soil. Their flocks

2i6 RUSSIA

and herds supplied them with all that they required, and
enabled them to lead a tranquil, indolent existence. No
great legislator arose among them to teach them the use of
the plough and the sickle, and when they saw the Russian
peasants on their borders laboriously ploughing and reaping,
they looked on them with compassion, and never thought
of following their example. But an impersonal legislator
came to them — a very severe and tyrannical legislator, who
would not brook disobedience — I mean Economic Necessity.
By the encroachments of the Ural Cossacks on the east, and
by the ever-advancing wave of Russian colonisation from
the north and west, their territory had been greatly
diminished. With diminution of the pasturage came diminu-
tion of the live stock, their sole means of subsistence. In
spite of their passively conservative spirit they had to look
about for some new means of obtaining food and clothing
— some new mode of life requiring less extensive territorial
possessions. It was only then that they began to think of
imitating their neighbours. They saw that the neighbouring
Russian peasant lived comfortably on thirty or forty acres
of land, whilst they possessed a hundred and fifty acres per
male, and were in danger of starvation.

The conclusion to be drawn from this was self-evident
— they ought at once to begin ploughing and sowing. But
there was a very serious obstacle to the putting of this
principle in practice. Agriculture certainly requires less
land than sheep-farming, but it requires very much more
labour, and to hard work the Bashkirs were not accustomed.
They could bear hardships and fatigues in the shape of long
journeys on horseback, but the severe, monotonous labour of
the plough and the sickle was not to their taste. At first,
therefore, they adopted a compromise. They had a portion
of their land tilled by Russian peasants, and ceded to these
a part of the produce in return for the labour expended ; in
other words, they assumed the position of landed proprietors,
and farmed part of their land on the metayage system.

The process of transition had reached this point in
several aoiih which I visited. My friend Mehemct Zian
showed me at some distance from the tents his plot of arable
land, and introduced me to the peasant who tilled it — a

THE GENUINE STEPPE 217

Little Russian, who assured me that the arrangement satisfied
all parties. The process of transition cannot, however, stop
here. The compromise is merely a temporary expedient.
Virgin soil gives very abundant harvests, sufficient to
support both the labourer and the indolent proprietor, but
after a few years the soil becomes exhausted and gives only
a very moderate revenue. A proprietor, therefore, must
sooner or later dispense with the labourers, who take half
of the produce as their recompense, and must himself put
his hand to the plough.

Thus we see the Bashkirs are, properly speaking, no
longer a purely pastoral, nomadic people. The discovery
of this fact caused me some little disappointment, and in
the hope of finding a tribe in a more primitive condition I
went on to the Kirghiz of the Inner Horde, who occupy the
country to the southward, in the direction of the Caspian.
Here for the first time I saw the genuine Steppe in the full
sense of the term^a country level as the sea, with not a
hillock or even a gentle undulation to break the straight
line of the horizon, and not a patch of cultivation, a tree, a
bush, or even a stone, to diversify the monotonous expanse.

Traversing such a region is, I need scarcely say, very
weary work — all the more as there are no milestones or other
landmarks to show the progress you are making. Still, it
is not so overwhelmingly wearisome as might be supposed.
In the morning you may watch the vast lakes, with their
rugged promontories and well-wooded banks, which the
mirage creates for your amusement. Then during the course
of the day there are always one or two trifling incidents
which arouse you for a little from your somnolence. Now
you descry a couple of horsemen on the distant horizon,
and watch them as they approach ; and when they come
alongside you may have a talk with them if you know their
language or have an interpreter ; or you may amuse your-
self with a little pantomime if articulate speech is impossible.
Now you encounter a long train of camels marching along
with solemn, stately step, and speculate as to the contents
of the big packages with which they are laden. Now you
encounter the carcass of a horse that has fallen bv the way-
side, and watch the dogs and the steppe eagles fighting

2i8 RUSSIA

over their prey; and if you are murderously inclined you
may take a shot with your revolver at these great birds, for
they are ignorantly brave, and will sometimes allow you to
approach within twenty or thirty yards. At last you perceive
— most pleasant sight of all — a group of haystack-shaped
tents in the distance ; and you hurry on to enjoy the grateful
shade, and quench your thirst with "deep, deep draughts"
of refreshing kumyss.

During my journey through the Kirghiz country I was
accompanied by a Russian gentleman, who had provided
himself with a circular letter from the hereditary chieftain
of the Horde, a personage who rejoiced in the imposing
name of Genghis Khan,* and claimed to be a descendant
of the great Mongol conqueror. This document assured us
a good reception in the aouls through which we passed.
Every Kirghiz who saw it treated it with profound respect,
and professed to put all his goods and chattels at our service.
But in spite of this powerful recommendation we met with
none of that friendly cordiality and communicativeness
which I had found among the Bashkirs. A tent with an
unlimited quantity of cushions was always set apart for
our accommodation ; the sheep were killed and boiled for
our dinner, and the pails of kumyss were regularly brought
for our refreshment ; but all this was evidently done as a
matter of duty and not as a spontaneous expression of
hospitality. When we determined once or twice to prolong
our visit beyond the term originally announced, I could
perceive that our host was not at all delighted by the change
of our plans. The only consolation we had was that those
who entertained us made no scruples about accepting pay-
ment for the food and shelter supplied.

From all this I have no intention of drawing the con-
clusion that the Kirghiz are, as a people, inhospitable or
unfriendly to strangers. My experience of them is too
limited to warrant any such inference. The letter of Genghis
Khan ensured us all the accommodation we required, but it
at the same time gave us a certain official character not at
all favourable to the establishment of friendly relations.

* I have adopted the ordinary English spelling of this name. The
Kirghiz and the Russians pronounce it " Tchinghiz."

THE KALMYKS 219

Those with whom we came in contact regarded us as Russian
officials, and suspected us of having some secret designs.
As I endeavoured to discover the number of their cattle, and
to form an approximate estimate of their annual revenue,
they naturallv feared — having no conception of disinterested
scientific curiosity — that these data were being collected for
the purpose of increasing the taxes, or wdth some similar
intention of a sinister kind. Very soon I perceived clearly
that any information we might here collect regarding the
economic conditions of pastoral life would not be of much
value, and I postponed my proposed studies to a more
convenient season.

The Kirghiz are, ethnographically speaking, closely allied
to the Bashkirs, but differ from them both in physiognomy
and language. Their features approach much nearer to
the pure Mongol type, and their language is a distinct
dialect, which a Bashkir or a Tartar of Kazan has some
difficulty in understanding. They are professedly Maho-
metans, but their Mahometanism is not of a rigid kind, as
may be seen by the fact that their women do not veil their
faces even in the presence of Ghiaours — a laxness of which
the Ghiaour will certainly not approve if he happen to be
sensitive to female beauty and ugliness. Their manners and
customs differ little from those of the Bashkirs, but they have
proportionately more land and are consequently still able to
lead a purely pastoral life. Near their western frontier, it
is true, they annually let patches of land to the Russian
peasants for the purpose of raising crops; but these encroach-
ments can never advance very far, for the greater part of
their territory is unsuited to agriculture, on account of a
large admixture of salt in the soil. This fact will have an
important influence on their future. Unlike the Bashkirs,
who possess good arable land, and are consequently on the
road to becoming agriculturists, they will in all probability
continue to live exclusively by their flocks and herds.

To the south-west of the Lower Volga, in the flat region
lying to the north of the Caucasus, 1 visited another pastoral
tribe, the Kalmyks, differing widely from the two former in
language, in physiognomy, and in religion. Their language,
a dialect of the Mongolian, has no close affinity with any

220 RUSSIA

other language in this part of the world. In respect of
religion they are likewise isolated, for they are Buddhists,
and have consequently no co-religionists nearer than Mon-
golia or Tibet. But it is their physiognomy that most
strikingly distinguishes them from the surrounding peoples,
and stamps them as Mongols of the purest water. There is
something almost infra-human in their ugliness. They show
in an exaggerated degree all those repulsive traits which we
see toned down and refined in the face of an average China-
man ; and it is difficult, when we meet them for the first time,
to believe that a human soul lurks behind their expression-
less, flattened faces and small, dull, obliquely set eyes. If
the Tartar and Turkish races are really descended from
ancestors of that type, then we must assume that they have
received in the course of time a large admixture of Aryan
or Semitic blood.

But we must not be too hard on the poor Kalmyks, or
judge of their character by their unprepossessing appear-
ance. They are by no means so unhuman as they look.
Men who have lived among them have assured me that they
are decidedly intelligent, especially in all matters relating
to cattle, and that they are— though somewhat addicted to
cattle-lifting and other primitive customs not tolerated in
the more advanced stages of civilisation — by no means
wanting in some of the better qualities of human nature.

Formerly there was a fourth pastoral tribe in this region
— the Noga'i Tartars. They occupied the plains to the north
of the vSea of Azof, but they are no longer to be found there.
Shortly after the Crimean War they emigrated to Turkey,
and their lands are now occupied by Russian, German,
Bulgarian, and Montenegrin colonists.

Among the pastoral tribes of this region the Kalmyks
are recent intruders. They first appeared in the seventeenth
century, and were long formidable on account of their great
numbers and compact organisation; but in 1771 the majority
of them suddenly struck their tents and retreated to their
old home in the north of the Celestial Empire. Those who
remained were easily pacified, and have long since lost,
under the influence of unbroken peace and a strong Russian
administration, their old warlike spirit. Their latest military

NOMADS OF THE SOUTH 221

exploits were performed during the last years of the
Napoleonic wars, and were not of a very serious kind; a
troop of them accompanied the Russian army, and astonished
.Western Europe by their uncouth features, their strange
costume, and their primitive accoutrements, among which
their curious bows and arrows figured conspicuously.

The other pastoral tribes which I have mentioned —
Bashkirs, Kirghiz, and Nogai Tartars — are the last rem-
nants of the famous marauders who from time immemorial
down to a comparatively recent period held the vast plains
of Southern Russia. The long struggle betw^een them and
the agricultural colonists from the north-west — closely re-
sembling the long struggle between the Redskins and the
white settlers on the prairies of North America — forms an
important page of Russian history.

For centuries the warlike nomads stoutly resisted all
encroachments on their pasture-grounds, and considered
cattle-lifting, kidnapping, and pillage as a legitimate and
honourable occupation. "Their raids," says an old Byzan-
tine writer, "are as flashes of lightning, and their retreat is
at once heavy and light — heavy from booty and light from
the swiftness of their movements. For them a peaceful life
is a misfortune, and a convenient opportunity for war is the
height of felicity. Worst of all, they are more numerous
than bees in spring; their numbers are uncountable."
" Having no fixed place of abode," says another Byzantine
authority, "they seek to conquer lands and colonise none.
They are flying people, and therefore cannot be caught.
As they have neither towns nor villages, they must be
hunted like wild beasts, and can be fitly compared only to
griffins, which beneficent Nature has banished to uninhabited
regions." As a Persian distich, quoted by Vambery, has

it—

" They came, conquered, burned,
Pillaged, murdered, and went."

Their raids are thus described by an old Russian chronicler :
"They burn the villages, the farmyards, and the churches.
The land is turned by them into a desert, and the overgrown
fields become the lair of wild beasts. ]\Iany people are led
away into slavery ; others are tortured and killed, or die

322 RUSSIA

from hunger and thirst. Sad, weary, stiff from cold, with
faces wan from woe, barefoot or naked, and torn by the
thistles, the Russian prisoners trudge along through an un-
known country, and, weeping, say to one another, ' I am
from such a town, and I from such a village.' " And in
harmony with the monastic chroniclers we hear the name-
less Slavonic Ossian wailing for the fallen sons of Rus : —
"In the Russian land is rarely heard the voice of the
husbandmen, but often the cry of the vultures, fighting with
each other over the bodies of the slain ; and the ravens scream
as they fly to the spoil."

In spite of the stubborn resistance of the nomads, the
wave of colonisation moved steadily onwards until the early
years of the thirteenth century, when it was suddenly checked
and thrown back. A great Mongolian horde from Eastern
Asia, far more numerous and better organised than the local
nomadic tribes, overran the whole country, and for more
than two centuries Russia was in a certain sense ruled by
Mongol Khans. As I wish to speak at some length of this
Mongol domination, I shall devote to it a separate chapter.

CHAPTER XIV

THE MONGOL OR TARTAR DOMINATION *

The Tartar invasion, with its direct and indirect conse-
quences, is a subject which has more than a mere antiquarian
interest. To the influence of the INIongols are commonly
attributed many pecuHarities in the actual condition and
national character of the Russians of the present day, and
some writers would even have us believe that the men whom
we call Russians are simply Tartars half disguised by a thin
varnish of European civilisation. It may be well, therefore,
to inquire what the Tartar or Mongol domination really was,
and how far it affected the historical development and
national character of the Russian people.

The story of the conquest may be briefly told. In 1224
the chieftains of the Polovtsi — one of those pastoral tribes
which roamed on the Steppe and habitually carried on a
predatory warfare with the Russians of the south — sent
deputies to Mistislaf the Brave, Prince of Galicia, to inform
him that their country had been invaded from the south-east
by strong, cruel enemies called Tartars f— strange-looking
men with brown faces, eyes small and wide apart, thick
lips, broad shoulders, and black hair. "To-day," said the

* The terms " Mongol " and " Tartar " are used indiscriminately by
most writers, mediteval and modern, Russian and West European, to designate
a great number of Oriental tribes differing widely from each other in
physical type, in language, and in social organisation. Stretching from
Europe, through Northern and Central Asia, to the shores of the Pacific,
these tribes are so unlike each other that it is ditTicuIt to find any trait-
common to them all, except the negative characteristic that they are neither
Aryans nor Semites. Sometimes they are generically styled " Turanians,"
but no one has yet been able to explain what ethnographical or linguistic
peculiarities are connoted by that designation. The truth is that this large
section of the human race has never been carefully studied by competent
ethnologists and philologists, and consequently our knowledge of it is still
vague and unscientific. My own opinion is that it is composed of at least
two, and possibly more, groups which have no ethnological or linguistic
affinities with each other.

t The word is properly " Tatar," and the Russians write and pronounce
it in this way, but I have preferred to retain the better known form.

223

224 RUSSIA

deputies, "they have seized our country, and to-morrow they
will seize yours if you do not help us."

Mistislaf had probably no objection to the Polovtsi being
annihilated by some tribe stronger and fiercer than them-
selves, for they gave him a great deal of trouble by their
frequent raids; but he perceived the force of the argument
about his own turn coming next, and thought it wise to
assist his usually hostile neighbours. For the purpose of
warding off the danger he called together the neighbouring
Princes, and urged them to join in an expedition against
the new enemy. The expedition was undertaken, and ended
in disaster. On the Kalka, a small river falling into the Sea
of Azof, the Russian host met the invaders, and was com-
pletely routed. The country was thereby opened to the
victors, but they did not follow up their advantage. After
advancing for some distance they suddenly wheeled round
and disappeared.

Thus ended unexpectedly the first visit of these unwelcome
strangers. Thirteen years afterwards they returned, and
were not so easily got rid of. An enormous horde crossed
the River Ural, and advanced into the heart of the country,
pillaging, burning, devastating, and murdering. The
Princes made no attempt to combine against the common
enemy. Nearly all the principal towns w^ere laid in ashes,
and the inhabitants were killed or carried off as slaves.
Having conquered Russia, they advanced westward, and
threw all Europe into alarm. The panic reached even
England, and interrupted, it is said, for a time the herring
fishery on the coast. Western Europe, however, escaped
their ravages. After visiting Poland, Hungary, Bulgaria,
Servia, and Dalmatia, they retreated to the Lower Volga,
and the Russian Princes were summoned thither to do
homage to the victorious Khan.

At first the Russians had only very vague notions as to
who this terrible enemy was. The old chronicler remarks
briefly: — "For our sins unknown peoples have appeared.
No one knows who they are or whence they have come, or
to what race and faith they belong. They are commonly
called Tartars, but some call them Tauermen, and others
Petchenegs. Who they really are is known only to God,

THE CONQUERORS 225

and perhaps to wise men deeply read in books." Some of
these " wise men deeply read in books " supposed them to
be the idolatrous Moabites who had in Old Testament times
harassed God's chosen people, whilst others thought that
they must be the descendants of the men whom Gideon had
driven out, of whom a revered saint had prophesied that they
would come in the latter days and conquer the whole earth,
from the East even unto the Euphrates, and from the Tigris
even unto the Black Sea.

We are now happily in a position to dispense with such
vague ethnographical speculations. From the accounts of
several European travellers who visited Tartary about that
time, and from the writings of various Oriental historians,
we know a great deal about these barbarians who conquered
Russia and frightened the Western nations.

The vast region lying to the east of Russia, from the
basin of the Volga to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, was
inhabited then, as it is still, by numerous Tartar and Mongol
tribes. These two terms are often regarded as identical and
interchangeable, but they ought, I think, to be distinguished.
From the ethnographic, the linguistic, and the religious
point of view they differ widely from each other. The Kazan
Tartars, the Bashkirs, the Kirghiz, in a word, all the tribes
of the country stretching latitudinally from the Volga to
Kashgar, and longitudinally from the Persian frontier, the
Hindu Kush and the Northern Himalaya, to a line drawn
east and west through the middle of Siberia, belong to what
may be called the Tartar group ; whereas those farther east-
ward, occupying Mongolia and Manchuria, are Mongol in
the stricter sense of the term.

A very little experience enables the traveller to distinguish
between the two. Both of them have the well-known
characteristics of the Northern Asiatic — the broad flat face,
yellow skin, small, obliquely set eyes, high cheek-bones,
thin, straggling beard; but these traits are more strongly
marked, more exaggerated, if we may use such an expres-
sion, in the Mongol than in the Tartar. Thus the Mongol
is, according to our conceptions, by far the uglier of the
two, and the man of Tartar race, when seen beside him,
appears almost European by comparison. The distinction
I

226 RUSSIA

is confirmed by a study of their languages. All the Tartar
languages are closely allied, so that a person of average
linguistic talent who has mastered one of them, whether it
be the rude Turki of Central Asia or the highly polished
Turkish of Stambul, can easily acquire any of the others;
whereas even an extensive acquaintance with Tartar dialects
will be of no practical use to him in learning a language of
the Mongol group. In their religions likewise the two races
differ. The Mongols are as a rule Shamanists or Buddhists,
while the Tartars are Mahometans. Some of the Mongol
invaders, it is true, adopted Mahometanism from the
conquered Tartar tribes, and by this change of religion,
which led naturally to intermarriage, their descendants
became gradually blended with the older population ; but
the broad line of distinction was not permanently effaced.

It is often supposed, even by people who profess to be
acquainted with Russian history, that Mongols and Tartars
alike first came westward to the frontiers of Europe with
Genghis Khan. This is true of the Mongols, but so far as
the Tartars are concerned it is an entire mistake. From time
immemorial, the Tartar tribes roamed over these territories.
Like the Russians, they were conquered by the Mongol
invaders and had long to pay tribute, and when the Mongol
Empire crumbled to pieces and finally disappeared, the
Tartars reappeared from the confusion without having lost,
notwithstanding an intermixture of Mongol blood, their old
racial characteristics, their old dialects, and their old triba!
organisation.

The germ of the vast horde which swept over Asia and
advanced into the centre of Europe was a small pastoral
tribe of Mongols living in the hilly country to the north of
China, near the sources of the Amur. This tribe was neither
more warlike nor more formidable than its neighbours till
near the close of the twelfth century, when there appeared
in it a man who is described as "a mighty hunter before
the Lord." Of him and his people we have a brief descrip-
tion by a Chinese author of the time : — "A man of gigantic
stature, with broad forehead and long beard, and remarkable
for his bravery. As to his people, their faces are broad,
flat, and four-cornered, with prominent cheek-bones; their

GENGHIS KHAN 227

eyes have no upper eyelashes; they have very little hair in
their beards and moustaches ; their exterior is very repulsive."
This man of gigantic stature was no other than Genghis
Khan. He began by subduing and incorporating into his
army the surrounding tribes, conquered with their assistance
a great part of Northern China, and then, leaving one of
his generals to complete the conquest of the Celestial Empire,
he led his army westward with the ambitious design of
conquering the whole world. "As there is but one God in
heaven," he was wont to say, "so there should be but one
ruler on earth " ; and this one universal ruler he himself
aspired to be.

A European army necessarily diminishes in force and
its existence becomes more and more imperilled as it
advances from its base of operations into a foreign and
hostile country. Not so a horde like that of Genghis Khan
in a country such as that which it had to traverse. It needed
no base of operations, for it took with it its flocks, its tents,
and all its worldly goods. Properly speaking, it was not
an army at all, but rather a people in movement. The
grassy Steppes fed the flocks, and the flocks fed the warriors ;
and with such a simple commissariat system there was no
necessity for keeping up communications with the point of
departure. Instead of diminishing in numbers, the horde
constantly increased as it moved forward. The nomadic
tribes which it encountered on its way, composed of men
who found a home wherever they found pasture and drinking
water, required little persuasion to make them join the
onward movement. By means of this terrible instrument of
conquest Genghis succeeded in creating a colossal Empire,
stretching from the Carpathians to the eastern shores of
Asia, and from the Arctic Ocean to the Himalayas.

Genghis was no mere ruthless destroyer ; he was at the
same time one of the greatest administrators the world has
ever seen. But his administrative genius could not work
miracles. His vast Empire, founded on conquest and com-
posed of the most heterogeneous elements, had no principle
of organic life in it, and could not possibly be long-lived.
It had been created by him, and it perished with him. For
some time after his death the dignity of Grand Khan was

228 RUSSIA

held by some one of his descendants, and the centralised
administration was nominally preserved; but the local rulers
rapidly emancipated themselves from the central authority,
and within half a century after the death of its founder the
great Mongol Empire was little more than "a geographical
expression."

With the dismemberment of the short-lived Empire the
danger for Eastern Europe was by no means at an end.
The independent hordes were scarcely less formidable than
the Empire itself. A grandson of Genghis formed on the
Russian frontier a new State, commonly known as Kiptchak,
or the Golden Horde, and built a capital called Serai, on
one of the arms of the Lower Volga. This capital, which
has since so completely disappeared that there is some doubt
as to its site, is described by Ibn Batuta, who visited it in
the fifteenth century, as a very great, populous, and beau-
tiful city, possessing many mosques, fine market-places, and
broad streets, in which were to be seen merchants from
Babylon, Egypt, Syria, and other countries. Here lived the
Khans of the Golden Horde, who kept Russia in subjection
for two centuries.

In conquering Russia the Mongols had no wish to possess
themselves of the soil, or to take into their own hands the
local administration. What they wanted was not land, of
which they had enough and to spare, but movable property
which they might enjoy without giving up their pastoral,
nomadic life. They applied, therefore, to Russia the same
method of extracting supplies as they had used in other
regions. As soon as their authority had been formally
acknowledged they sent officials into the country to number
the inhabitants and to collect an amount of tribute propor-
tionate to the population. This was a severe burden for the
people, not only on account of the sum demanded, but also
on account of the manner in which it was raised. The
exactions and cruelty of the tax-gatherers led to local in-
surrections, and the insurrections were of course always
severely punished. But there was never any general military
occupation of the country or any wholesale confiscations of
land, and the existing political organisation was left undis-
turbed. The modern method of dealing with annexed pro-

RELIGIOUS TOLERANCE 229

vinces was totally unknown to the Mongols. The Khans
never thought of attempting to denationalise their Russian
subjects. They demanded simply an oath of allegiance from
the Princes,* and a certain sum of tribute from the people.
The vanquished were allowed to retain their land, their re-
ligion, their language, their courts of justice, and all their
other institutions.

The nature of the Mongol domination is well illustrated
by the policy which the conquerors adopted towards the
Russian Church. For more than half a century after the
conquest the religion of these Western Mongols remained a
mixture of Buddhism and Shamanism, with traces of Sabseism
or fire-worship. During this period Christianity was more
than simply tolerated. The Grand Khan Kuyuk caused a
Christian chapel to be erected near his domicile, and one of
his successors, KhubilaV, was in the habit of publicly taking
part in the Easter festivals. In 1261 the Khan of the Golden
Horde allowed the Russians to found a bishopric in his
capital, and several members of his family adopted Chris-
tianity. One of them even founded a monastery, and became
a saint of the Russian Church ! The Orthodox clergy were
exempted from the poll-tax, and in the charters granted to
them it was expressly declared that if anyone committed
blasphemy against the faith of the Russians he should be put
to death. Some time afterwards the Golden Horde was con-
verted to Islam, but the Khans did not on that account
change their policy. They continued to favour the clergy,
and their protection was long remembered. Many genera-
tions later, when the property of the Church was threatened
by the Russian autocratic power, refractory ecclesiastics con-
trasted the policy of the Orthodox Sovereign with that of the
"godless Mongols," much to the advantage of the latter.

At first there was and could be very little mutual con-
fidence between the conquerors and the conquered. The
Princes anxiously looked for an opportunity of throwing off
the galling voke, and the people chafed under the exactions
and cruelty of the tribute collectors, whilst the Khans took
precautions to prevent insurrection, and threatened to

* During the Mongol domination Russia was composed of a large number
of ind€p>endent principalities.

230 RUSSIA

devastate the country if their authority was not respected.
But in the course of time this mutual distrust and hostihty
greatly lessened. When the Princes found by experience
that all attempts at resistance were fruitless, they became
reconciled to their new position, and instead of seeking to
throw off the Khan's authority, they tried to gain his favour,
in the hope of forwarding their personal interests. For this
purpose they paid frequent visits to the Mongol Suzerain,
made rich presents to his wives and courtiers, received from
him charters confirming their authority, and sometimes even
married members of his family. Some of them used the
favour thus acquired for extending their possessions at the
expense of neighbouring Princes of their own race, and did
not hesitate to call in Mongol hordes to their assistance.
The Khans, in their turn, placed greater confidence in their
vassals, entrusted them with the task of collecting the tribute,
recalled their own officials who were a constant eyesore to
the people, and abstained from all interference in the internal
affairs of the principalities so long as the tribute was regularly
paid. The Princes acted, in short, as the Khan's lieutenants,
and became to a certain extent Mongolised. Some of them
carried this policy so far that they were reproached by the
people with "loving beyond measure the Mongols and their
language, and with giving them too freely land, and gold,
and goods of every kind."

Had the Khans of the Golden Horde been prudent, far-
seeing statesmen, they might have long retained their
supremacy over Russia. In reality they showed themselves
miserably deficient in political talent. Seeking merely to
extract from the country as much tribute as possible, they
overlooked all higher considerations, and by this culpable
short-sightedness prepared their own political ruin. Instead
of keeping all the Russian Princes on the same level and
thereby rendering them all equally feeble, they were con-
stantly bribed or cajoled into giving to one or more of their
vassals a pre-eminence over the others. At first this pre-
eminence consisted in little more than the empty title of
Grand Prince — Veliki Knyaz, which is now commonly
translated Grand Duke ; but the vassals thus favoured soon
transformed the barren distinction into a genuine power by

GRAND PRINCES OF MOSCOW 231

arrogating to themselves the exclusive right of holding
direct communications with the Horde, and compelling the
minor Princes to deliver to them the Mongol tribute. If
any of the lesser Princes refused to acknov^'ledge this inter-
mediate authority, the Grand Prince could easily crush them
by representing them at the Horde as rebels. Such an
accusation would cause the accused to be summoned before
the Supreme Tribunal, where the procedure was extremely
summary, and the Grand Prince had always the means of
obtaining a decision in his own favour.

Of the Princes who strove in this way to increase their
influence, the most successful were the Grand Princes of
Moscow. They w^ere not a chivalrous race, or one with
which the severe moralist can sympathise, but they were
largely endowed with cunning, tact, and perseverance, and
were little hampered by conscientious scruples. Having
early discovered that the liberal distribution of money at
the Mongol court was the surest means of gaining favour,
they lived parsimoniously at home and spent their savings
at the Horde. To secure the continuance of the favour thus
acquired, they were ready to form matrimonial alliances w^ith
the Khan's family, and to act zealously as his lieutenants.
When Novgorod, the haughty, turbulent Republic, refused
to pay the yearly tribute, they quelled the insurrection and
punished the leaders; and when the inhabitants of Tver rose
against the Khan's authority and compelled their Prince to
make common cause with them, the wily Muscovite hastened
to the Mongol court and received from the Khan the revolted
principality, with 50,000 horsemen to support his authority.

Thus those cunning Moscow Princes "loved the Mongols
beyond measure " so long as the Khan was irresistibly pow-er-
ful, but as his powder w-aned they stood forth as his rivals.
When the Golden Horde, like the great Empire of which
it had once formed a part, fell to pieces in the fifteenth
century, these ambitious Princes read the signs of the times,
and put themselves at the head of the liberation movement,
which was at first unsuccessful, but ultimately freed the
country from the hated yoke.

From this brief sketch of the Mongol domination the
reader wall readily understand that it did not leave any deep.

232 RUSSIA

lasting impression on the people. The invaders never
settled in Russia Proper, and never amalgamated with the
native population. So long as they retained their semi-
pagan, semi-Buddhistic religion, a certain number of their
notables became Christians and were absorbed by the
Russian Noblesse; but as soon as the Horde adopted Islam,
this movement was arrested. There was no blending of
the two races such as has taken place — and is still taking
place — between the Russian peasantry and the Finnish tribes
of the North. The Russians remained Christians, and the
Mongols remained Mahometans; and this difference of religion
raised an impassable barrier between the two nationalities.

It must, however, be admitted that the Mongol domination,
though it had little influence on the life and habits of the
people, had a considerable influence on the political develop-
ment of the nation. At the time of the conquest Russia was
composed of a large number of independent principalities,
all governed by descendants of Rurik. As these princi-
palities were not geographical or ethnographical units, but
mere artificial, arbitrarily defined districts, which were
regularly subdivided or combined according to the hereditary
rights of the Princes, it is highly probable that they would
in any case have been sooner or later united under one
sceptre; but it is quite certain that the policy of the Khans
helped to accelerate this unification and to create the auto-
cratic power which has since been wielded by the Tsars. If
the principalities had been united without foreign inter-
ference, we should probably have found in the united State
some form of political organisation corresponding to that
which existed in the component parts — some mixed form of
government, in which the political power would have been
more or less equally divided between the Tsar and the
people. The Mongol rule interrupted this normal develop-
ment by extinguishing all free political life. The first Tsars
of Muscovy were the political descendants, not of the old
independent Princes, but of the Mongol Khans. It may be
said, therefore, that the autocratic power, which has been
during the last four centuries out of all comparison the most
important factor in Russian history, was in a certain sense
created by the Mongol domination.

CHAPTER XV

THE COSSACKS

No sooner had the Grand Princes of Moscow thrown off
the Mongol yoke and become independent Tsars of Muscovy
than they began that eastward territorial expansion which
has gone on steadily till our own time, and which culminated
in the occupation of Port Arthur. Ivan the Terrible
conquered the Khanates of Kazan and Astrakhan (1552-54)
and reduced to nominal subjection the Bashkir and Kirghiz
tribes in the vicinity of the Volga, but he did not thereby
establish law and order on the Steppe. The lawless tribes
retained their old pastoral mode of life and predatory habits,
and harassed the Russian agricultural population of the
outlying provinces in the same way as the Red Indians in
America used to harass the white colonists of the Far West.
A large section of the Horde, inhabiting the Crimea and
the Steppe to the north of the Black Sea, escaped annexation
by submitting to the Ottoman Turks and becoming tribu-
taries of the Sultan.

The Turks were at that time a formidable power, with
which the Tsars of Muscovy were too weak to cope success-
fully, and the Khan of the Crimea could always, when hard
pressed by his northern neighbours, obtain assistance from
Constantinople. This potentate exercised a nominal authority
over the pastoral tribes which roamed on the Steppe between
the Crimea and the Russian frontier, but he had neither the
power nor the desire to control their aggressive tendencies.
Their raids in Russian and Polish territory ensured, among
other advantages, a regular and plentiful supply of slaves,
which formed the chief article of export from KafTa — the
modern Theodosia — and from the other seaports of the
southern coast.

Of this slave trade, which flourished down to 1783, when
the Crimea was finally conquered and annexed by Russia,
I* 233

234 RUSSIA

we have a graphic account by an eye-witness, a Lithuanian
traveller of the sixteenth century. "Ships from Asia," he
says, "bring arms, clothes, and horses to the Crimean
Tartars, and start on the homeward voyage laden with
slaves. It is for this kind of merchandise alone that the
Crimean markets are noteworthy. Slaves- may be always
had for sale as a pledge or as a present, and everyone rich
enough to have a horse deals in them. If a man wishes to
buy clothes, arms, or horses, and does not happen to have
at the moment any slaves, he takes on credit the articles
required, and makes a formal promise to deliver at a given
term a certain number of people of our blood — being con-
vinced that he can get by that time the requisite number.
And these promises are always accurately fulfilled, as if
those who made them had always a supply of our people
in their courtyards. A Jewish money-changer, sitting at
the gate of Tauris and seeing constantly the countless multi-
tude of our countrymen led in as captives, asked us whether
there still remained any people in our land, and whence
came such a multitude of them. The stronger of these cap-
tives, branded on the forehead and the cheeks and manacled
or fettered, are tortured by severe labour all day, and are
shut up in dark cells at night. They are kept alive by small
quantities of food, composed chiefly of the flesh of animals
that have died — putrid, covered with maggots, disgusting
even to dogs. Women, who are more tender, are treated
in a different fashion; some of them who can sing and play
are employed to amuse the guests at festivals.

"When the slaves are led out for sale they walk to the
market-place in single file, like storks on the wing, in whole
dozens, chained together by the neck, and are there sold by
auction. The auctioneer shouts loudly that they are ' the
newest arrivals, simple, and not cunning, lately captured
from the people of the kingdom (Poland), and not from
Muscovy ' ; for the Muscovite race, being crafty and deceit-
ful, does not bring a good price. This kind of merchandise
is appraised with great accuracy in the Crimea, and is
bought by foreign merchants at a high price, in order to be
sold at a still higher rate to blacker nations, such as vSaracens,
Persians, Indians, Arabs, Syrians, and Assyrians. When

THE FREE COSSACKS 235

a purchase is made the teeth are examined, to see that they
are neither few nor discoloured. At the same time the more
hidden parts of the body are carefully inspected, and if a
mole, excrescence, wound, or other latent defect is dis-
covered, the bargain is rescinded. But notwithstanding these
investigations the cunning slave-dealers and brokers succeed
in cheating the buyers; for when they have valuable boys
and girls, they do not at once produce them, but first fatten
them, clothe them in silk, and put powder and rouge on
their cheeks, so as to sell them at a better price. Sometimes
beautiful and perfect maidens of our nation bring their
weight in gold. This takes place in all the towns of the
peninsula, but especially in Kaffa." *

To protect the agricultural population of the Steppe
against the raids of these thieving, cattle-lifting, kidnapping
neighbours, the Tsars of Muscovy and the Kings of Poland
built forts, constructed palisades, dug trenches, and kept up
a regular military cordon. The troops composing this
cordon were called Cossacks; but these were not the "Free
Cossacks " best known to history and romance. These latter
lived beyond the frontier on the debatable land which lay
between the two hostile races, and there they formed self-
governing military communities. Each one of the rivers
flowing southwards — the Dnieper, the Don, the Volga, and
the Yai'k or Ural — was held by a community of these Free
Cossacks, and no one, whether Christian or Mahometan,
was allowed to pass through their territory without their
permission.

Officially the Free Cossacks were Russians, for they
professed to be champions of Orthodox Christianity, and
— with the exception of those of the Dnieper — loyal subjects
of the Tsar, but in reality they were something different.
Though they were Russian by origin, language, and sym-
pathy, the habit of kidnapping Tartar women introduced
among them a certain admixture of Tartar blood. Though
self-constituted champions of Christianity and haters of
Islam, they troubled themselves very little with religion,
and did not submit to the ecclesiastical authorities. As to

* Michalonis Litvani, " De moribus Tartarorum Fragmina." X., Basiliae,
1615.

236 RUSSIA

their political status, it cannot be easily defined. Whilst
professing allegiance and devotion to the Tsar, they did not
think it necessary to obey him, except in, so far as his orders
suited their own convenience. And the Tsar, it must be
confessed, acted towards them in a similar fashion. When
he found it convenient he called them his faithful subjects;
and w'hen complaints were made to him about their raids
on Turkish territory, he declared that they were not his
subjects, but runaways and brigands, and that the Sultan
might punish them as he thought fit. At the same time,
the so-called runaways and brigands regularly received
supplies and ammunition from Moscow, as is amply proved
by recently published documents. Down to the middle of
the seventeenth century the Cossacks of the Dnieper stood
in a similar relation to the Polish kings; but at that time
they threw off their allegiance to Poland, and became
subjects of the Tsars of Muscovy.

Of these semi-independent military communities, which
formed a continuous barrier along the southern and south-
eastern frontier, the most celebrated were the Zaporovians *
of the Dnieper and the Cossacks of the Don.

The Zaporovian Commonwealth has been compared
sometimes to ancient Sparta, and sometimes to the mediaeval
Military Orders, but it had in reality quite a different
character. In Sparta the nobles kept in subjection a large
population of slaves, and were themselves constantly under
the severe discipline of the magistrates. These Cossacks
of the Dnieper, on the contrary, lived by fishing, hunting,
and marauding, and knew nothing of discipline, except in
time of war. Amongst all the inhabitants of the Setch —
so the fortified camp was called — there reigned the most
perfect equality. The common saying, "Bear patiently,
Cossack; you will one day be Ataman ! " was often realised;
for every year the office-bearers laid down the insignia of
office in presence of the general assembly, and, after thank-
ing the brotherhood for the honour they had enjoyed, retired
to their former position of common Cossack. At the election

* The name " Zaporovians," by which they are known in the West, is a
corruption rif the Russian word Zaforozhtsi, which means " Those who live
beyond the Rapids."

THE COSSACKS OF THE DON 237

which followed this ceremony, any member might be chosen
chief of his kufen, or company, and any chief of a kuren
might be chosen Ataman.

The comparison of these bold Borderers with the mediceval
Military Orders is scarcely less forced. They call them-
selves, indeed, Lytsars — a corruption of the Russian word
Ritsar, which is in its turn a corruption of the German
Ritter— talked of knightly honour {l^tsarskaya tchest'), and
sometimes proclaimed themselves the champions of Greek
Orthodoxy against the Roman Catholicism of the Poles and
the Mahometanism of the Tartars; but religion occupied in
their minds a very secondary place. Their great object in
life was the acquisition of booty. To attain this object
they lived in intermittent warfare with the Tartars, lifted
their cattle, pillaged their aouls, swept the Black Sea in
flotillas of small boats, and occasionally sacked important
coast towns, such as Varna and Sinope. When Tartar booty
could not be easily obtained, they turned their attention to
the Slavonic populations; and when hard pressed by Chris-
tian potentates, they did not hesitate to put themselves
under the protection of the Sultan.

The Cossacks of the Don, of the Volga, and of the Ural
had a somewhat different organisation. They had no fortified
camp like the Setch, but lived in villages, and assembled as
necessity demanded. As they were completely beyond the
sphere of Polish influence, they knew nothing about
"knightly honour" and similar conceptions of Western
chivalry ; they even adopted many Tartar customs, and loved
in time of peace to strut about in gorgeous Tartar costumes.
Besides this, they were nearly all emigrants from Great
Russia, and mostly Old Ritualists or Sectarians, whilst the
Zaporovians were Little Russians and Orthodox.

These military communities rendered valuable service to
Russia. The best means of protecting the southern frontier
was to have as allies a large body of men leading the same
kind of life and capable of carrying on the same kind of
warfare as the nomadic marauders ; and such a body of
men were the Free Cossacks. The sentiment of self-preserva-
tion and the desire of booty kept them constantly on the
alert. By sending out small parties in all directions, by

238 RUSSIA

"procuring tongues " — that is to say, by kidnapping and
torturing straggling Tartars with a view to extracting in-
formation from them — and by keeping spies in the enemy's
territory, they were generally apprised beforehand of any
intended incursion. When danger threatened, the ordinary
precautions were redoubled. Day and night patrols kept
watch at the points where the enemy was expected, and as
soon as sure signs of his approach were discovered a pile
of tarred barrels prepared for the purpose was fired to give
the alarm. Rapidly the signal was repeated at one point
of observation after another, and by this primitive system
of telegraphy in the course of a few hours the whole district
was up in arms. If the invaders were not too numerous,
they were at once attacked and driven back. If they could
not be successfully resisted, they were allowed to pass ; but
a troop of Cossacks was sent to pillage their aouls in their
absence, whilst another and larger force was collected, in
order to intercept them when they were returning home
laden with booty. Thus many a nameless battle was fought
on the trackless Steppe, and many brave men fell unhonoured

and unsung —

" Illacrymabiles
Urgentur ignotique longa
Nocte, carent quia vate sacro."

Notwithstanding these valuable services, the Cossack
communities were a constant source of diplomatic difficulties
and political dangers. As they paid very little attention to
the orders of the Government, they supplied the Sultan with
any number of castis belli, and were often ready to turn
their arms against the power to which they professed
allegiance. During "the troublous times," for example,
when the Tsardom of Muscovy was wellnigh destroyed by
civil strife and foreign invasion, they overran the country,
robbing, pillaging, and burning as they were wont to do in
the Tartar aouls. At a later period the Don Cossacks twice
raised formidable insurrections — first under Stenka Razin
(1670), and secondly under Pugatch^v (1773) — and during
the war between Peter the Great and Charles XII. of Sweden
the Zaporovians took the side of the Swedish king.

The Government naturally strove to put an end to this

THE MODERN COSSACKS 239

danger, and ultimately succeeded. All the Cossacks were
deprived of their independence, but the fate of the various
communities was different. Those of the Volga were trans-
ferred to the Terek, where they had abundant occupation in
guarding the frontier against the incursions of the Eastern
Caucasian tribes. The Zaporovians held tenaciously to their
"Dnieper liberties," and resisted all interference, till they
were forcibly disbanded in the time of Catherine II. The
majority of them fled to Turkey, where some of their
descendants are still to be found, and the remainder were
settled on the Kuban, where they could lead their old life
by carrying on an irregular warfare with the tribes of the
Western Caucasus. Since the capture of Shamyl and the
pacification of the Caucasus, this Cossack population of the
Kubdn and the Terek, extending in an unbroken line from
the Sea of Azof to the Caspian, have been able to turn
their attention to peaceful pursuits, and now raise large
quantities of wheat for exportation ; but they still retain their
martial bearing, and some of them regret the good old times
when a brush with the Circassians was an ordinary occur-
rence and the work of tilling the soil was often diversified
with a more exciting kind of occupation.

The Cossacks of the Ural and the Don have been
allowed to remain in their old homes, but they have been
deprived of their independence and self-government, and
their social organisation has been completely changed. The
boisterous popular assemblies which formerly decided all
public affairs have been abolished, and the custom of choos-
ing the Ataman and other office-bearers by popular election
has been replaced by a system of regular promotion, accord-
ing to rules elaborated in St. Petersburg. The officers and
their families now compose a kind of hereditary aristocracy,
which has succeeded in appropriating, by means of Imperial
grants, a large portion of the land which was formerly
common property.

As the Empire expanded in Asia, the system of protect-
ing the frontier by Cossack colonists was extended eastwards,
so that now there is a belt of Cossack territory stretching
almost without interruption from the banks of the Don to
the coast of the Pacific. It is divided into eleven sections,

240 RUSSIA

in each of which is settled a Cossacii corps with a separate
administration.

When universal mihtary service was introduced in 1874,
the Cossacks were very Httle affected by tiie new law. In
order to preserve their military traditions and habits they
were allowed to retain, with certain modifications, their old
organisation, rights and privileges. In return for a large
amount of fertile land and exemption from direct taxation,
they have to equip themselves at their own expense, and>are
liable to serve for twenty years, of which three are usually
spent in preparatory training, twelve in the active army,
and five in the reserve. This system gives to the army a
contingent of about 330,000 men — divided into 890 squadrons
and 108 infantry companies— with 236 guns.

The Cossacks in active service are to be met with in all
parts of the Empire, from the Prussian to the Chinese
frontier. In the Asiatic Provinces their services are in-
valuable. Capable of enduring an incredible amount of
fatigue and all manner of privations, they can live and thrive
in conditions which would soon disable regular troops. The
capacity of self-adaptation, which is characteristic of the
Russian people generally, is possessed by them in the highest
degree. When placed on some distant Asiatic frontier they
can at once transform themselves into squatters — building
their own house, raising crops of grain, and living as
colonists without neglecting their military duties.

I have sometimes heard it asserted by military men that
the Cossack organisation is an antiquated institution, and
that the soldiers which it produces, however useful they may
be in Central Asia, would be of little service in regular
European warfare. Whether this view, which received some
confirmation in the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-78, is true
or false I cannot pretend to say, for it is a subject on which
a civilian has no right to speak, but I may remark that the
Cossacks themselves are not by any means of that opinion.
They regard themselves as the most valuable troops which
the Tsar possesses, believing themselves capable of perform-
ing anything within the bounds of human possibility, and
a good deal that lies beyond that limit. More than once
Don Cossacks have assured me that if the Tsar had allowed

COSSACKS AND AGRICULTURE 241

them to fit out a flotilla of small boats during the Crimean
War they would have captured the British fleet, as their
ancestors used to capture Turkish galleys on the Black Sea !

In old times, throughout the whole territory of the Don
Cossacks, agriculture was prohibited on pain of death. It
is generally supposed that this measure was adopted with
a view to preserve the martial spirit of the inhabitants, but
it may be explained otherwise. The great majority of the
Cossacks, averse to all regular, laborious occupations, wished
to live by fishing, hunting, cattle-breeding, and marauding,
but there was always amongst them a considerable number
of immigrants — runaway serfs from the interior— who had
been accustomed to live by agriculture. These latter wished
to raise crops on the fertile virgin soil, and if they had been
allowed to do so they would have to some extent spoiled
the pastures. We have here, I believe, the true reason for
the above-mentioned prohibition, and this view is strongly
confirmed by analogous facts which I have observed in
another locality. In the Kirghiz territory the poorer in-
habitants of the aouls near the frontier, having few or no
cattle, wish to let part of the common land to the neigh-
bouring Russian peasantry for agricultural purposes; but the
richer inhabitants, who possess flocks and herds, strenuously
oppose this movement, and would doubtless prohibit it under
pain of death if they had the power, because all agricultural
encroachments diminish the pasture-land.

Whatever was the real reason of the prohibition, practical
necessity proved in the long run too strong for the anti-
agriculturists. As the population augmented and the oppor-
tunities for marauding decreased, the majority had to over-
come their repugnance to husbandry; and soon large patches
of ploughed land or waving grain were to be seen in the
vicinity of the stanitsas, as the Cossack villages are termed.
At first there was no attempt to regulate this new use of
the ager publicus. Each Cossack who wished to raise a crop
ploughed and sowed wherever he thought fit, and retained
as long as he chose the land thus appropriated ; and when
the soil began to show signs of exhaustion, he abandoned
his plot and ploughed elsewhere. But this unregulated use
of the Communal property could not long continue. As the

242 RUSSIA

number of agriculturists increased, quarrels frequently arose,
and sometimes terminated in bloodshed. Still worse evils
appeared when markets were created in the vicinity, and it
became possible to sell the grain for exportation. In some
stanitsas the richer families appropriated enormous quantities
of the common land by using several teams of oxen, or by
hiring peasants in the nearest villages to come and plough
for them ; and instead of abandoning the land after raising
two or three crops they retained possession of it, and came
to regard it as their private property. Thus the whole of
the arable land, or at least the best part of it, became actually,
if not legally, the private property of a few families, whilst
the less energetic or less fortunate inhabitants of the stanitsa
had only parcels of comparatively barren soil, or had no land
whatever, and became mere agricultural labourers.

After a time this injustice was remedied. The landless
members justly complained that they had to bear the same
burdens as those who possessed the land, and that therefore
they ought to enjoy the same privileges. The old spirit of
equality was still strong amongst them, and they ultimately
succeeded in asserting their rights. In accordance with their
demands the appropriated land was confiscated by the Com-
munes, and the system of periodical re-distributions was
introduced. By this system each adult male possesses a
share of the land.

These facts tend to throw light on some of the dark
questions of social development in its early stages.

So long as a village community leads a purely pastoral
life, and possesses an abundance of land, there is no reason
why the individuals or the families of which it is composed
should divide the land into private lots, and there are very
potent reasons why they should not adopt such a course.
To give the division of the land any practical significance,
it would be necessary to raise fences of some kind, and these
fences, requiring for their construction a certain amount of
labour, would prove merely a useless encumbrance, for it is
much more convenient that all the sheep and cattle should
graze together. If there is a scarcity of pasture, and con-
sequently a conflict of interest among the families, the enjoy-
ment of the common land will be regulated not by raising

LAND TENURE 243

fences, but by simply limiting the number of sheep and
cattle which each family is entitled to put upon the pasturage,
as is done in many Russian villages at the present day.
When anyone desires to keep more sheep and cattle than
the maximum to which he is entitled, he pays to the others
a certain compensation. Thus, we see, in pastoral life the
dividing of the common land is unnecessary and inexpedient,
and consequently private property in land is not likely to
come into existence.

With the introduction of agriculture appears a tendency
to divide the land among the families composing the com-
munity, for each family living by husbandry requires a
definite portion of the soil. If the land suitable for agricul-
tural purposes be plentiful, each head of a family may be
allowed to take possession of as much of it as he requires,
as was formely done in the Cossack stanitsas ; if, on the
contrary, the area of arable land is small, as is the case in
some Bashkir aouls, there will probably be a regular allot-
ment of it among the families.

With the tendency to divide the land into definite portions
arises a conflict between the principle of communal and the
principle of private property. Those who obtain definite
portions of the soil are in general likely to keep them and
transmit them to their descendants. In a country, however,
like the Steppe — and it is only of such countries that I am
at present speaking — the nature of the soil and the system of
agriculture militate against this conversion of simple posses-
sion into a right of property. A plot of land is commonly
cultivated for only three or four years in succession. It is
then abandoned for at least double that period, and the
cultivators remove to some other portion of the communal
territory. After a time, it is true, they return to the old
portion, which has been in the meantime lying fallow; but
as the soil is tolerably equal in quality, the families or
individuals have little reason to desire the precise plots which
they formerly possessed. Under such circumstances the
principle of private property in the land is not likely to strike
root ; each family insists on possessing a certain quantity
rather than a certain plot of land, and contents itself with
a right of usufruct, whilst the right of property remains in

244 RUSSIA

the hands of the Commune; and it must not be forgotten
that the difference between usufruct and property is here of
great practical importance, for so long as the Commune
retains the right of property it may re-allot the land in any
way it thinks lit.

As the population increases and land becomes less
plentiful, the primitive method of agriculture above alluded
to gives place to a less primitive method, commonly known
as "the three-field system," according to which the cultivators
do not migrate periodically from one part of the communal
territory to another, but till always the same fields, and are
obliged to manure the plots which they occupy. The
principle of communal property rarely survives this change,
for by long possession the families acquire a prescriptive
right to the portions which they cultivate, and those who
manure their land will naturally object to exchange it for
land which has been held by indolent, improvident neigh-
bours. In Russia, however, this change has not destroyed
the principle of communal property. Though the three-field
system has been in use for many generations in the central
provinces, the communal principle, with its periodical re-
allotment of the land, has not yet disappeared.

For the student of sociology, the past history and actual
condition of the Don Cossacks present many other features
equally interesting and instructive. He may there see, for
instance, how an aristocracy can be created by military
promotion, and how serfage may originate and become a
recognised institution without any legislative enactment. If
he takes an interest in peculiar manifestations of religious
thought and feeling, he will find a rich field of investigation
in the countless religious sects; and if he is a collector of
quaint old customs, he will not lack occupation.

One curious custom, which has very recently died out,
I may here mention by way of illustration. As the Cossacks
knew very little about land-surveying, and still less about
land registration, the precise boundary between two con-
tiguous yurts — as the communal land of a stanitsa was called
— was often a matter of uncertainty and a fruitful source
of disputes. When the boundary was once determined, the
following method of registering it was employed. All the

LAND REGISTRATION 245

boys of the two stanitsas were collected and driven in a
body like sheep to the intervening frontier. The whole
population then walked along the frontier that had been
agreed upon, and at each landmark a number of boys were
soundly whipped and allowed to run home ! This was done
in the hope that the victims would remember, as long as
they lived, the spot where they had received their unmerited
castigation.* The device, I have been assured, was generally
very effective, but it was not always quite successful.
Whether from the castigation not being sufficiently severe,
or from some other defect in the method, it sometimes hap-
pened that disputes afterwards arose, and the whipped boys,
now grown up to manhood, gave conflicting testimony.
When such a case occurred the following expedient was
adopted. One of the oldest inhabitants was chosen as
arbiter, and made to swear on the Scriptures that he would
act honestly to the best of his knowledge ; then, taking an
Icon in his hand, he walked along what he believed to be
the old frontier. Whether he made mistakes or not, his
decision w-as accepted by both parties and regarded as final.
This custom existed in some stanitsas down to the year 1850,
when the boundaries w^ere clearly determined by Government
officials.

* A custom of this kind, I am told, existed not very long ago in England,
and is still spoken of as " the beating of the bounds."

CHAPTER XVI

FOREIGN COLONISTS ON THE STEPPE

In European Russia the struggle between agriculture and
nomadic barbarism is now a thing of the past, and the fertile
Steppe, which was for centuries a battle-ground of the
Aryan and Turanian races, has been incorporated into the
dominions of the Tsar. The nomadic tribes have been partly-
driven out and partly pacified and parked in "reserves," and
most of the territory which they so long and so stubbornly
defended is now studded with peaceful villages and tilled
by laborious agriculturists.

In traversing this region the ordinary tourist will find
little to interest him. He will see nothing which he can
possibly dignify by the name of scenery, and he may journey
on for many days without having any occasion to make an
entry in his notebook. If he should happen, however, to
be an ethnologist and linguist, he may find occupation, for
he will here meet with fragments of many different races
and a variety of foreign tongues.

This ethnological variety is the result of a policy in-
augurated by Catherine II. So long as the southern frontier
was pushed forward slowly, the acquired territory was
regularly filled up by Russian peasants from the central
provinces who were anxious to obtain more land and more
liberty than they enjoyed in their native villages; but during
"the glorious age of Catherine" the frontier was pushed
forward so rapidly that the old method of spontaneous
emigration no longer sufficed to people the annexed territory.
The Empress had recourse, therefore, to organised emigra-
tion from foreign countries. Her diplomatic representatives
in Western Europe tried to induce artisans and peasants to
emigrate to Russia, and special agents were sent to various
countries to supplement the efforts of the diplomatists.
Thousands accepted the invitation, and were for the most

246

VARIETY OF RAGES 247

part settled on the land which had been recently the pasture-
ground of the nomadic hordes.

This policy was adopted by succeeding sovereigns, and
the consequence of it has been that Southern Russia now
contains a variety of races such as is to be found, perhaps,
nowhere else in Europe. The official statistics of New
Russia alone — that is to say, the provinces of Ekaterinoslav,
Tauride, Kherson, and Bessarabia — enumerate the following
nationalities : Great Russians, Little Russians, Poles,
Servians, Montenegrins, Bulgarians, Moldavians, Germans,
English, Swedes, Swiss, French, Itahans, Greeks, Armen-
ians, Tartars, Mordwa, Jews, and Gypsies. The religions
arc almost equally numerous. The statistics speak of Greek
Orthodox, Roman Catholics, Gregorians, Lutherans, Cal-
vinists, Anglicans, Mennonites, Separatists, Pietists, Karaim
Jews, Talmudists, Mahometans, and numerous Russian
sects, such as the Molokanye and the Skoptsi or Eunuchs.
America herself could scarcely show a more motley list in
her statistics of population.

It is but fair to state that the above list, though literally
correct, does not give a true idea of the actual population.
The great body of the inhabitants are Russian and Orthodox,
whilst several of the nationalities named are represented by
a small number of souls — some of them, such as the French,
being found exclusively in the towns. Still, the variety even
in the rural population is very great. Once, in the space of
three days, and using only the most primitive means of
conveyance, I visited colonies of Greeks, Germans, Servians,
Bulgarians, Montenegrins, and Jews.

Of all the foreign colonists the Germans are by far the
most numerous. The object of the Government in inviting
them to settle in the country was that they should till the
unoccupied land and thereby increase the national wealth,
and that they should at the same time exercise a civilising
influence on the Russian peasantry in their vicinity. In this
latter respect they have totally failed to fulfil their mission.
A Russian village, situated in the midst of German colonies,
shows generally, so far as I could observe, no signs of
German influence. Each nationality lives more majorum,
and holds as little communication as possible with the

248 RUSSIA

other. The muzhik observes carefully — for he is very
curious — the mode of life of his more advanced neighbours,
but he never thinks of adopting it. He looks upon Germans
almost as beings of a different world — as a wonderfully
cunning and ingenious people, who have been endowed by
Providence with peculiar qualities not possessed by ordinary
Orthodox humanity. To him it seems in the nature of
things that Germans should live in large, clean, well-built
houses, in the same way as it is in the nature of things that
birds should build nests; and as it has probably never
occurred to a human being to build a nest for himself and
his family, so it never occurs to a Russian peasant to build
a house on the German model. Germans are Germans, and
Russians are Russians — and there is nothing more to be
said on the subject.

This stubbornly conservative spirit of the peasantry who
live in the neighbourhood of Germans seems to give the
lie direct to the oft-repeated and universally believed asser-
tion that Russians are an imitative people strongly disposed
to adopt the manners and customs of any foreigners with
whom they may come in contact. The Russian, it is said,
changes his nationality as easily as he changes his coat,
and derives great satisfaction from wearing some nationality
that does not belong to him ; but here we have an important
fact which appears to prove the contrary.

The truth is that in this matter we must distinguish
between the Noblesse and the peasantry. The nobles are
singularly prone to adopt foreign manners, customs, and
institutions ; the peasants, on the contrary, are as a rule
decidedly conservative. It must not, however, be supposed
that this proceeds from a difference of race; the difference
is to be explained by the past history of the two classes.
Like all other peoples, the Russians are strongly conserva-
tive so long as they remain in what may be termed their
primitive moral habitat — that is to say, so long as external
circumstances do not force them out of their accustomed
traditional groove. The Noblesse were long ago violently
forced out of their old groove by the reforming Tsars, and
since that time they have been so constantly driven hither
and thither by foreign influences that they have never been

THE MENNONITES 249

able to form a new one. Thus they easily enter upon any
new path which seems to them profitable or attractive. The
great mass of the people, on the contrary, too heavy to be
thus lifted out of the guiding influence of custom and
tradition, are still animated with a strongly conservative
.spirit.

In confirmation of this view I may mention two facts
which have often attracted my attention. The first is that
the Molokanye — a primitive Evangelical sect of which I
shall speak at length in the next chapter— succumb gradually
to German influence; by becoming heretics in religion they
free themselves from one of the strongest bonds attaching
them to the past, and soon become heretics in things secular.
The second fact is that the individual Orthodox peasant,
when placed by circumstances in some new sphere of activity,
readily adopts whatever seems profitable. Take, for example,
the peasants who abandon agriculture and embark in in-
dustrial enterprises; finding themselves, as it were, in a
new world, in which their old traditional notions are totally
inapplicable, they have no hesitation in adopting foreign
ideas and foreign inventions. And when once they have
chosen this new path, they are much more "go-ahead" than
the Germans. Freed alike from the trammels of hereditary
conceptions and from the prudence which experience
generates, they often give a loose rein to their impulsive
character, and enter freely on the wildest speculations.

The marked contrast presented by a German colony and
a Russian village in close proximity with each other is often
used to illustrate the superiority of the Teutonic over the
Slavonic race, and in order to make the contrast more
striking, the Mennonite colonies are generally taken as the
representatives of the Germans. Without entering here on
the general question, I must say that this method of
argumentation is scarcely fair. The Mennonites, who
formerly lived in the neighbourhood of Danzig and
emigrated from Prussia in order to escape the military con-
scription, brought with them to their new home a large
store of useful technical knowledge and a considerable
amount of capital, and they received a quantity of land very
much greater than the Russian peasants possess. Besides

250 RUSSIA

this, they enjoyed until very recently several valuable
privileges. They were entirely exempted from military
service and almost entirely exempted from taxation. Alto-
gether their lines fell in very pleasant places. In material
and moral well-being they stand as far above the majority
of the ordinary German colonists as these latter do above
their Russian neighbours. Even in the richest districts of
Germany their prosperity would attract attention. To com-
pare these rich, privileged, well-educated farmers with the
poor, heavily taxed, uneducated peasantry, and to draw
from the comparison conclusions concerning the capabilities
of the two races, is a proceeding so absurd that it requires
no further comment.

To the wearied traveller who has been living for some
time in Russian villages, one of these Mennonite colonies
seems an earthly paradise. In a little hollow, perhaps by
the side of a w^atercourse, he suddenly comes on a long row
of high-roofed houses half concealed in trees. The trees
may be found on closer inspection to be little better than
mere saplings; but after a long journey on the bare Steppe,
where there is neither tree nor bush of any kind, the foliage,
scant as it is, appears singularly inviting. The houses are
large, well arranged, and kept in such thoroughly good
repair that they always appear to be newly built. The rooms
are plainly furnished, without any pretensions to elegance,
but scrupulously clean. Adjoining the house are the stable
and byre, which would not disgrace a model farm in
Germany or England. In front is a spacious courtyard,
which has the appearance of being swept several times a
day, and behind there is a garden well stocked with
vegetables. Fruit trees and flowers are not very plentiful,
for the climate is not favourable to them.

The inhabitants are honest, frugal folk, somewhat
sluggish of intellect and indifferent to things lying beyond
the narrow limits of their own little world, but shrewd
enough in all matters which they deem worthy of their
attention. If you arrive amongst them as a stranger you
may be a little chilled by the welcome you receive, for they
are exclusive, reserved, and distrustful, and do not much
like to associate with those who do not belong to their own

BULGARIAN COLONISTS 251

sect; but if you can converse with them in their mother
tongue and talk about religious matters in an evangelical
tone, you may easily overcome their stiffness and exclusive-
ness. Altogether such a village cannot be recommended
for a lengthened sojourn, for the severe order and symmetry
which everywhere prevail would soon prove irksome to
anyone having no Dutch blood in his veins;* but as a
temporary resting-place during a pilgrimage on the Steppe,
when the pilgrim is longing for a little cleanliness and
comfort, it is very agreeable.

The fact that these Mennonites and some other German
colonies have succeeded in rearing a few sickly trees has
suggested to some fertile minds the idea that the prevailing
dryness of the climate, which is the chief difficulty with
which the agriculturist of that region has to contend, might
be to some extent counteracted by arboriculture on a large
scale. This scheme, though it has been seriously entertained
by one of his Majesty's ministers, must seem hardly practic-
able to anyone who knows how much labour and money the
colonists have expended in creating that agreeable shade
which they love to enjoy in their leisure hours. If climate
is affected at all by the existence or non-existence of forests
— a point on which scientific men do not seem to be entirely
agreed — any palpable increase of the rainfall can be pro-
duced only by forests of enormous extent, and it is hardly
conceivable that these could be artificially produced in
Southern Russia. It is quite possible, however, that local
ameliorations may be effected. During a visit to the
province of Voronezh in 1903 I found that comparatively
small plantations diminished the effects of drought in their
immediate vicinity by retaining the moisture for a time in
the soil and the surrounding atmosphere.

After the Mennonites and other Germans, the Bulgarian
colonists deserve a passing notice. They settled in this
region much more recently, on the land that was left vacant

* The Mennonites were originally Dutchmen. Persecuted for their
relit^ious views in the sixteenth century, a large number of them accepted
an invitation to settle in West Prussia, where they helped to drain the great
marshes between Danzig, Elbing, and Marienburg. Here in the course of
time they forgot their native language. Their emigration to Russia began
in 17S9.

252 RUSSIA

by the exodus of the Nogai Tartars after the Crimean War.
If I may judge of their condition by a mere frying visit, I
should say that in agriculture and domestic civihsation they
are not very far behind the majority of German colonists.
The houses are indeed small — so small that one of them
might almost be put into a single room of a Mennonite's
house; but there is an air of cleanliness and comfort about
them that would do credit to a German housewife.

In spite of all this, these Bulgarians were, I could easily
perceive, by no means delighted with their new home. The
cause of their discontent, so far as I could gather from the
few laconic remarks which I extracted from them, seemed
to be this. Trusting to the highly coloured descriptions
furnished by the emigration agents who had induced them
to change the rule of the Sultan for the authority of the
Tsar, they came to Russia with the expectation of finding
a fertile and beautiful Promised Land. Instead of a land
flowing with milk and honey, they received a tract of bare
Steppe on which even water could be obtained only with
great difficulty — with no shade to protect them from the
heat of summer and nothing to shelter them from the keen
northern blasts that often sweep over those open plains.
As no adequate arrangements had been made for their
reception, they were quartered during the first winter on
the German colonists, who, being quite innocent of any
Slavophil sympathies, were probably not very hospitable
to their uninvited guests. To complete their disappoint-
ment, they found that they could not cultivate the vine, and
that their mild, fragrant tobacco, which is for them a
necessary of life, could be obtained only at a very high
price. So disconsolate were they under this cruel dis-
enchantment that, at the time of my visit, they talked of
returning to their old homes in Turkey.

As an example of the less prosperous colonists, I may
mention the Tartar-speaking Greeks in the neighbourhood
of Mariupol, on the northern shore of the Sea of Azof.
Their ancestors lived in the Crimea, under the rule of the
Tartar Khans, and emigrated to Russia in the time of
Catherine II., before Crim Tartary was annexed to the
Russian Empire. They have almost entirely forgotten their

NATIONAL PECULIARITIES 253

old language, but have preserved their old faith. In adopt-
ing the Tartar language they have adopted something of
Tartar indolence and apathy, and the natural consequence
is that they are poor and ignorant.

But of all the colonists of this region the least prosperous
are the Jews. The Chosen People are certainly a most
intelligent, industrious, frugal race, and in all matters of
buying, selling, and bartering they are unrivalled among
the nations of the earth, but they have been too long-
accustomed to town life to be good tillers of the soil. These
Jewish colonies were founded as an experiment to see whether
the Israelite could be weaned from his traditionary pursuits
and transferred to what some economists call the productive
section of society. The experiment has failed, and the
cause of the failure is not difficult to find. One has merely
to look at these men of gaunt visage and shambling gait,
with their loop-holed slippers, and black, threadbare coats
reaching down to their ankles, to understand that they are
not in their proper sphere. Their houses are in a most
dilapidated condition, and their villages remind one of the
abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the Prophet.
A great part of their land is left uncultivated or let to
colonists of a different race. What little revenue they have
is derived chiefly from trade of a more or less clandestine
nature.*

As Scandinavia was formerly called officina gentium — a
workshop in which new nations were made — so we may
regard Southern Russia as a w^orkshop in which fragments
are being melted down to form a new, composite whole.
It must be confessed, however, that the melting process has
as yet scarcely begun.

National peculiarities are not obliterated so rapidly in
Russia as in America or in British colonies. Among the
German colonists in Russia the process of assimilation is
hardly perceptible. Though their fathers and grandfathers
may have been born in the new countrv, they would con-
sider it an insult to be called Russians. They look down

* Mr. Arnold White, who subsequently visited some of these Jewish
colonies in connection with Haron Ilirsch's colonisation scheme, assured me
that he found them in a much more prosperous condition.

254 RUSSIA

upon the Russian peasantry as poor, ignorant, lazy, and
dishonest, fear the officials on account of their tyranny and
extortion, preserve jealously their own language and
customs, rarely speak Russian well — sometimes not at all

and never intermarry with those from whom they are

separated by nationality and religion. The Russian in-
fluence acts, however, more rapidly on the Slavonic colonists
—Servians, Bulgarians, Montenegrins— who profess the
Greek Orthodox faith, learn more easily the Russian
language, which is closely allied to their own, have no
consciousness of belonging to a Culturvolk, and in general
possess a nature much more pliable than the Teutonic.

Some years ago the Government attempted to accelerate
the fusing process by withdrawing the privileges enjoyed
by the colonists, and abolishing the peculiar administration
under which they lived. These measures, especially the
imposing of universal military service, may perhaps eventu-
ally break down the extreme exclusiveness of the Germans,
because the youths, while serving in the army, must at least
learn the Russian language, and may possibly imbibe some-
thing of the Russian spirit; but the immediate effect of the
new policy was the reverse of what the Government intended.
During the first years of the new regime I often overheard
in these colonies bitter complaints of Russian tyranny and
uncomplimentary remarks about the Russian national
character.

The Mennonites considered themselves specially ag-
grieved by the so-called reforms. They came to Russia
in order to escape military service and with the distinct
understanding that they should be exempted from it, and
now they were forced to act contrary to the tenets of their
religion. This was the ground of complaint which they put
forward in the petitions addressed to the Government, but
they had at the same time another, and perhaps more
important, objection to the changes which were being
introduced. The men of the old school felt that they could
not long maintain, in the new order of things, that stern
Puritanical discipline which protected the young generation
against immoral influences and contributed largely to the
material welfare of the community. Hence, though the

A SCOTTISH COLONY 255

Government was disposed to make certain concessions to
their religious beliefs, hundreds of families sold their
property and emigrated to America. The movement, how-
ever, did not become general. At present the Russian
Mennonites number, male and female, about 50,000, divided
into 160 colonies and possessing over 800,000 acres of
land.

It is quite possible that under the new system of
administration the colonists who profess, in common with
the Russians, the Greek Orthodox faith may be rapidly
Russianised ; but I am convinced that the others will long
resist assimilation. Greek Orthodoxy and Protestant sect-
arianism are so radically different in spirit that their
respective votaries are not likely to intermarry ; and without
intermarriage it is impossible that the two nationalities
should blend together.

As an instance of the ethnological curiosities which the
traveller may stumble upon unawares in this curious region,
I may mention a strange acquaintance I made when travel-
ling on the great plain which stretches from the Sea of
Azof to the Caspian. One day I accidentally noticed on
my travelling-map the name "Shotlandskaya Koloniya"
(Scottish Colony) near the celebrated baths of Piatigorsk.
I was at that moment in Stavropol, a town about eighty
miles to the north, and could not gain any satisfactory
information as to what this colony was. Some well-informed
people assured me that it really was what its name implied,
whilst others asserted as confidently that it was simply a
small German settlement. To decide the matter I determined
to visit the place myself, though it did not lie near my
intended route, and I accordingly found myself one morning
in the village in question. The first inhabitants whom I
encountered were unmistakably German, and they professed
to know nothing about the existence of Scotsmen in the
locality either at the present or in former times. This was
disappointing, and I was about to turn away and drive off,
when a young man, who proved to be the schoolmaster,
came up, and on hearing what I desired, advised me to
consult an old Circassian who lived at the end of the village
and was well acquainted with local antiquities. On pro-

256 RUSSIA

ceeding to the house indicated, 1 found a venerable old man,
with line regular features of the Circassian type, coal-black
sparkling eyes, and a long grey beard that would have done
honour to a patriarch. To him 1 explained briefly, in
Russian, the object of my visit, and asked whether he knew
of any Scotsmen in the district.

"And why do you wish to know?" he replied, in
the same language, fixing me with his keen, sparkling
eyes.

"Because I am myself a Scotsman, and hoped to find
fellow-countrymen here."

Let the reader imagine my astonishment when, in reply
to this, he answered, in genuine broad Scotch, *'Od, man,
I'm a Scotsman tae ! My name is John Abercrombie. Did
ye never hear tell o' John Abercrombie, the famous Edin-
burgh doctor ? "

I was fairly puzzled by this extraordinary declaration.
Dr. Abercrombie's name was familiar to me as that of a
medical practitioner and writer on psychology, but I knew
that he was long since dead. When I had recovered a little
from my surprise, I ventured to remark to the enigmatical
personage before me that, though his tongue was certainly
Scotch, his face was as certainly Circassian.

"Weel, weel," he replied, evidently enjoying my look
of mystification, "you're no' far wrang. I'm a Circassian
Scotsman ! "

This extraordinary admission did not diminish my
perplexity, so I begged my new acquaintance to be a little
more explicit, and he at once complied with my request.
His long story may be told in a few words : —

In the first years of the last century a band of Scottish
missionaries came to Russia for the purpose of converting
the Circassian tribes, and received from the Emperor
Alexander I. a large grant of land in this place, which was
then on the frontier of the Empire. Mere they founded a
mission, and began the work; but they soon discovered
that the surrounding population were not idolaters, but
Mussulmans, and consequently impervious to Christianity.
In this difficulty they fell on the happv idea of buying
Circassian children from their parents in times of famine,

THE SCOTTISH MISSION 257

and bringing them up as Christians.* One of these chil-
dren, purchased about the year 1806, was a Httle boy called
Teoona. As he had been purchased with money subscribed
by Dr. Abercrombie, he had received in baptism that gentle-
man's name, and he considered himself the foster-son of
his benefactor. Here was the explanation of the mystery.

Teoona, alias Mr. Abercrombie, was a man of more than
average intelligence. Besides his native tongue, he spoke
English, German, and Russian perfectly; and he assured
me that he knew several other languages equally well. His
life had been devoted to missionary work, and especially
to translating and printing the Scriptures. He had laboured
first in Astrakhan, then for four years and a half in Persia
— in the service of the Bale mission — and afterwards for six
years in Siberia.

The Scottish mission was suppressed by the Emperor
Nicholas about the year 1835, and all the missionaries except
two returned home. The son of one of these two (Galloway)
was the only genuine Scotsman remaining at the time of
my visit. Of the "Circassian Scotsmen " there were several,
most of whom had married Germans. The other inhabitants
were German colonists from the province of Saratof, and
German was the language commonly spoken in the village.

After hearing so much about foreign colonists, Tartar
invaders, and Finnish aborigines, the reader may naturally
desire to know the numerical strength of the foreign element.
Unfortunately we have no accurate data on this subject, but
from a careful examination of the available statistics I am
inclined to conclude that it constitutes about one-sixth of
the population of European Russia, excluding Poland, Fin-
land, and the Caucasus, and nearly a third of the population
of the Empire as a whole.

* The missionaries had no scruples about adopting this practice, because
they knew that the Circassian tribes were in the habit of exporting their
superfluous children to Constantinople, to be brought up in the Turkish
harems.

CHAPTER XVII

AMONG THE HERETICS

Whilst travelling on the Steppe I heard a great deal about
a peculiar religious sect called the Molokanye, and I felt
interested in them because their religious belief, whatever
it was, seemed to have a beneficial influence on their material
welfare. Of the same race and placed in the same economic
conditions as the Orthodox peasantry around them, they
were undoubtedly better housed, better clad, more punctual
in the payment of their taxes, and, in a word, more pros-
perous. All my informants agreed in describing them as
quiet, decent, sober people; but regarding their religious
doctrines the evidence was vague and contradictory. Some
considered them to be Protestants or Lutherans, whilst others
believed them to be the last remnants of a curious heretical
sect which existed in the early Christian Church.

Desirous of obtaining clearer notions on the subject, I
determined to investigate the matter for myself. At first
I found this to be no easy task. In the villages through
which I passed I found numerous members of the sect, but
they all showed a decided repugnance to speak about their
religious beliefs. Long accustomed to extortion and perse-
cution at the hands of the Administration, and suspecting
me to be a secret agent of the Government, they carefully
avoided speaking on any subject beyond the state of the
weather and the prospects of the harvest, and replied to
my questions on other topics as if they had been standing
before a Grand Inquisitor.

A few unsuccessful attempts convinced me that it would
be impossible to extract from them their religious beliefs
by direct questioning. I adopted, therefore, a different
system of tactics. From meagre replies already received I
had discovered that their doctrine had at least a superficial
resemblance to Presbyterianism, and from former experience

258

METHOD OF INVESTIGATION 259

I was aware that the curiosity of intelligent Russian peasants
is easily excited by descriptions of foreign countries. On
these two facts I based my plan of campaign. When I
found a Molokan, or someone whom I suspected to be such,
I talked for some time about the weather and the crops, as
if 1 had no ulterior object in view. Having fully discussed
this matter, I led the conversation gradually from the weather
and crops in Russia to the weather and crops in Scotland,
and then passed slowly from Scotch agriculture to the
Scotch Presbyterian Church. On nearly every occasion
this policy succeeded. When the peasant heard that there
was a country where the people interpreted the Scriptures
for themselves, had no bishops, and considered the venera-
tion of Icons as idolatry, he invariably listened with pro-
found attention ; and when he learned further that in that
wonderful country the parishes annually sent deputies to an
assembly in which all matters pertaining to the Church were
freely and publicly discussed, he almost always gave free
expression to his astonishment, and I had to answer a whole
volley of questions. "Where is that country?" "Is it to
the east, or the west ? " " Is it very far away ? " " If our
Presbyter could only hear all that ! "

This last expression was precisely what I wanted, because
it gave me an opportunity of making the acquaintance of the
Presbyter, or pastor, without seeming to desire it ; and I
knew that a conversation with that personage, who is always
an uneducated peasant like the others, but is generallv more
intelligent and better acquainted with religious doctrine,
would certainly be of use to me. On more than one occasion
I spent a great part of the night with a Presbyter, and
thereby learned much concerning the religious beliefs and
practices of the sect. After these interviews I was sure to
be treated with confidence and respect by all the Molokanye
in the village, and recommended to the brethren of the faith
in the neighbouring villages through which I intended to
pass. Several of the more intelligent peasants with whom
I spoke advised me strongly to visit Alexandrov-Hai, a
village situated on the borders of the Kirghiz Steppe.
"We are dark (i.e. ignorant) people here," they were wont
to say, "and do not know anything, but in Alexandrov-Hai

260 RUSSIA

you will find those who know the faith, and they will discuss
with you." This prediction was fulfilled in a somewhat
unexpected way.

When returning some weeks later from a visit to the
Kirghiz of the Inner Horde, I arrived one evening at this
centre of the Molokan faith and was hospitably received by
one of the brotherhood. In conversing casually with my
host on religious subjects I expressed to him a desire to
find someone well read in Holy Writ and well grounded
in the faith, and he promised to do what he could for me
in this respect. Next morning he kept his promise with a
vengeance. Immediately after the tea-urn had been re-
moved the door of the room was opened and twelve peasants
were ushered in ! After the customary salutations with
these unexpected visitors, my host informed me to my
astonishment that his friends had come to have a talk with
me about the faith ; and without further ceremony he placed
before me a folio Bible in the old Slavonic tongue, in order
that I might read passages in support of my arguments.
As I was not at all prepared to open a formal theological
discussion, I felt not a little embarrassed, and I could see
that my travelling companions, two Russian friends who
cared for none of these things, were thoroughly enjoying
my discomfiture. There was, however, no possibility of
drawing back, I had asked for an opportunity of having
a talk with some of the brethren, and now I had got it in
a way that I certainly did not expect. My friends withdrew
— "leaving me to my fate," as they whispered to me — and
the "talk" began.

My fate was by no means so terrible as had been
anticipated, but at first the situation was a little awkward.
Neither party had any clear ideas as to what the other
desired, and my visitors expected that I was to begin the
proceedings. This expectation was quite natural and justifi-
able, for I had inadvertently invited them to meet me, but
I could not make a speech to them, for the best of all reasons
— that I did not know what to say. If I told them my real
aims, their suspicions would probably be aroused. My usual
stratagem of the weather and the crops was wholly inapplic-
able. For a moment I thought of proposing that a psalm

A THEOLOGICAL DISCUSSION 261

should be sung as a means of breaking the ice, but I felt
that this would give to the meeting a solemnity which I
wished to avoid. On the whole it seemed best to begin at
once a formal discussion. I told them, therefore, that I
had spoken with many of their brethren in various villages,
and that I had found what I considered grave errors of
doctrine. I could not, for instance, agree with them in their
belief that it was unlawful to eat pork. This was perhaps
an abrupt way of entering on the subject, but it furnished
at least a locus standi — something to talk about — and an
animated discussion immediately ensued. My opponents first
endeavoured to prove their thesis from the New Testament,
and when this argument broke down they had recourse to
the Pentateuch. From a particular article of the ceremonial
law we passed to the broader question as to how far the
ceremonial law is still binding, and from this to other points
equally important.

If the logic of the peasants was not always unimpeach-
able, their knowledge of the Scriptures left nothing to be
desired. In support of their views they quoted long passages
from memory, and whenever I indicated vaguely any text
which I needed, they at once supplied it verbatim, so that
the big folio Bible served merely as an ornament. Three
or four of them seemed to know the whole of the New
Testament by heart. The course of our informal debate
need not here be described; suffice it to say that, after four
hours of uninterrupted conversation, we agreed to differ on
questions of detail, and parted from each other without a
trace of that ill-feeling which religious discussion commonly
engenders. Never have I met men more honest and
courteous in debate, more earnest in the search after truth,
or more careless of dialectical triumphs, than these simple,
uneducated muzhiks. If at one or two points in the dis-
cussion a little undue warmth was displayed, I must do my
opponents the justice to say that they were not the offending
party.

This long discussion, as well as numerous discussions
which I had had before and have had since with Molokanye
in various parts of the country, confirmed my first impression
that their doctrines have a strong resemblance to Presby-

262 RUSSIA

terianism. There is, however, an important difference.
Presbyterianism has an ecclesiastical organisation and a
written creed, and its doctrines have long since become
clearly defined by means of public discussion, polemical
literature, and General Assemblies. The Molokanye, on the
contrary, have had no means of developing their fundamental
principles and formulating their vague religious beliefs into
a clearly defined logical system. Their theology is, therefore,
still in a half-fluid state, so that it is impossible to predict
what form it will ultimately assume. "We have not yet
thought about that," I have frequently been told when I
inquired about some abstruse doctrine; "we must talk about
it at the meeting next Sunday. What is your opinion ? "
Besides this, their fundamental principles allow great
latitude for individual and local differences of opinion.
They hold that Holy Writ is the only rule of faith and
conduct, but that it must be taken in the spiritual, and not
in the literal, sense. As there is no terrestrial authority to
which doubtful points can be referred, each individual is
free to adopt the interpretation which commends itself to
his own judgment. This will no doubt ultimately lead to
a variety of sects, and already there is a considerable diversity
of opinion between different communities; but this diversity
has not yet been recognised, and I may say that I nowhere
found that fanatically dogmatic quibbling spirit which is
usually the soul of sectarianism.

For their ecclesiastical organisation the Molokanye take
as their model the early Apostolic Church, as depicted in
the New Testament, and uncompromisingly reject all later
authorities. In accordance with this model they have no
hierarchy and no paid clergy, but choose from among them-
selves a Presbyter and two assistants — men well known
among the brethren for their exemplary life and their know-
ledge of the Scriptures — whose duty it is to watch over the
religious and moral welfare of the flock. As they have no
churches, they hold meetings in private houses, and on
Sundays they usually spend two or three hours in psalm-
singing, prayer, reading the Scriptures, and friendly con-
versation on religious subjects. If anyone has a doctrinal
difficulty which he desires to have cleared up, he states it

HISTORY OF THE MOLOKANYE 263

to the congregation, and some of the others give their
opinions, with the texts on which the opinions are founded.
If the question seems clearly solved by the texts, it is
decided; if not, it is left open.

As in many young sects, there exists among the Molo-
kanye a system of severe moral supervision. If a member
has been guilty of drunkenness or any act unbecoming a
Christian, he is first admonished by the Presbyter in private
or before the congregation ; and if this does not produce the
desired effect, he is excluded for a longer or shorter period
from the meetings and from all intercourse with the members.
In extreme cases expulsion is resorted to. On the other
hand, if any one of the members happens to be, from no
fault of his own, in pecuniary difficulties, the others will
assist him. This system of mutual control and mutual
assistance has no doubt something to do with the fact that
the Molokanye are distinguished from the surrounding
population by their sobriety, uprightness, and material
prosperity.

Of the history of the sect my friends in Alexandrov-Hai
could tell me very little, but I have obtained from other
quarters some interesting information. The founder was a
peasant of the province of Tamb6v called Uklein, who lived
in the reign of Catherine II., and gained his living as an
itinerant tailor. For some time he belonged to the sect of
the Dukhobortsi — who are sometimes called the Russian
Quakers, and who have since become known in Western
Europe through the efforts of Count Tolstoy on their behalf
—but he soon seceded from them, because he could not
admit their doctrine that God dwells in the human soul, and
that consequently the chief source of religious truth is in-
ternal enlightenment. To him it seemed that religious truth
was to be found only in the Scriptures. With this doctrine
he soon made many converts, and one day he unexpectedly
entered the town of Tambov, surrounded by seventy
"apostles" chanting psalms. They were all quickly arrested
and imprisoned, and when the affair was reported to St.
Petersburg the Empress Catherine ordered that they should
be handed over to the ecclesiastical authorities, and that in
the event of their proving obdurate to exhortation they

264 RUSSIA

should be tried by the Criminal Courts. Uklein professed
to recant, and was liberated; but he continued his teach-
ing secretly in the villages, and at the time of his death
he was believed to have no fewer than five thousand
followers.

As to the actual strength of the sect it is difficult to
form even a conjecture. Certainly it has many thousand
members — probably several hundred thousand. Formerly
the Government transported them from the central provinces
to the thinly populated outlying districts, where they had
less opportunity of contaminating Orthodox neighbours;
and accordingly we find them in the south-eastern districts
of Samara, on the north coast of the Sea of Azov, in the
Crimea, in the Caucasus, and in Siberia. There are still,
however, very many of them in the central region, especially
in the province of Tamb6v.

The readiness with which the Molokdnye modify their
opinions and beliefs in accordance with what seems to them
new light saves them effectually from bigotry and fanaticism,
but it at the same time exposes them to evils of a different
kind, from which they might be preserved by a few stubborn
prejudices. "False prophets arise among us," said an old,
sober-minded member to me on one occasion, "and lead
many away from the faith."

In 1835, for example, great excitement was produced
among them by rumours that the Second Advent of Christ
was at hand, and that the Son of Man, coming to judge the
world, was about to appear in the New Jerusalem, some-
where near Mount Ararat. As Elijah and Enoch were to
appear before the opening of the Millennium, they were
anxiously awaited by the faithful, and at last Elijah
appeared, in the person of a Melitopol peasant called
Belozvorov, who announced that on a given day he would
ascend into heaven. On the appointed day a great crowd
collected, but he failed to keep his promise, and was handed
over to the police as an impostor by the Molokanye them-
selves. Unfortunately they were not always so sensible
as on that occasion. In the very next year many of
them were persuaded by a certain Lukian Petr6v to put
on their best garments and start for the Promised Land

A FALSE PROPHET 265

in the Caucasus, where the Millennium was about to
begin.*

Of the Molokdn false prophets the most remarkable in
recent times was a man who called himself Ivan Grigoriev,
a mysterious personage who had at one time a Turkish and
at another an American passport, but who seemed in all other
respects a genuine Russian. Some years previously to my
visit he appeared at Alexandrov-Hai. Though he professed
himself to be a good Molokdn and was received as such, he
enounced at the weekly meetings many new and startling
ideas. At first he simply urged his hearers to live like
the early Christians, and have all things in common. This
seemed sound doctrine to the Molokanye, who profess to
take the early Christians as their model, and some of them
thought of at once abolishing personal property ; but when
the teacher intimated pretty plainly that this communism
should include free love, a decided opposition arose, and it
was objected that the early Church did not recommend
wholesale adultery and cognate sins. This was a formidable
objection, but "the prophet " was equal to the occasion. He
reminded his friends that in accordance with their own
doctrine the Scriptures should be understood, not in the
literal, but in the spiritual, sense — that Christianity had made
men free, and every true Christian ought to use his freedom.

This account of the new doctrine was given to me by
an intelligent Molokan, who had formerly been a peasant
and was now a trader, as I sat one evening in his house
in Novo-usensk, the chief town of the district in which
Alexandrov-Hai is situated. It seemed to me that the author
of this ingenious attempt to conciliate Christianity with
extreme Utilitarianism must be an educated man in disguise.
This conviction I communicated to my host, but he did not
agree with me.

"No, I think not," he replied; "in fact, I am sure he
is a peasant, and I strongly suspect he was at some time a

* It may be remembered that a few years ago a similar movement took
place among the Russian Dukhobortsi settled in Northern Canada, and that
the authorities had to interfere, because the pilgrims journeying southwards
towards Winnipeg where the Second Advent was expected, instead of putting
on their best garments like the adherents of Lukian Petrov, insisted on
wearing no garments at all.

J*

266 RUSSIA

soldier. He has not much learning, but he has a wonderful
gift of talking. Never have I heard anyone speak like him.
He would have talked over the whole village, had it not
been for an old man who was more than a match for him.
And then he went to Orlov-Hai, and there he did talk the
people over." What he really did in this latter place I never
could clearly ascertain. Report said that he founded a com-
munistic association, of which he was himself president and
treasurer, and converted the members to an extraordinary
theory of prophetic succession, invented apparently for his
own sensual gratification. For further information my host
advised me to apply either to the prophet himself, who was
at that time confined in the jail on a charge of using a
forged passport, or to one of his friends, a certain Mr.

I , who lived in the town. As it was a difficult matter

to gain admittance to the prisoner, and I had little time at
my disposal, I adopted the latter alternative.

Mr. I was himself a somewhat curious character.

He had been a student in Moscow, and in consequence of
some youthful indiscretions during the University disturb-
ances, had been exiled to this place. After waiting in vain
some years for a release, he gave up the idea of entering
one of the learned professions, married a peasant girl, rented
a piece of land, bought a pair of camels, and settled down
as a small farmer.* He had a great deal to tell about the
prophet.

Grigoriev, it seemed, was really a simple Russian peasant,
but he had been from his youth upwards one of those rest-
less people who can never long work in harness. Where
his native place was, and why he left it, he never divulged,
for reasons best known to himself. He had travelled much,
and had been an attentive observer. Whether he had ever
been in America was doubtful, but he had certainly been
in Turkey, and had fraternised with various Russian
sectarians, who are to be found in considerable numbers
near the Danube. Here, probably, he acquired many of his
peculiar religious ideas, and conceived his grand scheme

* Here for the first time I saw camels used for agricultural purposes.
When yoked to a small four-wheeled cart, the " ships of the desert" seemed
decidedly out of place.

CLASSIFICATION OF SECTS 267

of founding a new religion — of rivalling the Founder of
Christianity ! He aimed at nothing less than this, as he on
one occasion confessed, and he did not see why he should
not be successful. He believed that the Founder of Chris-
tianity had been simply a man like himself, who understood
better than others the people around him and the circum-
stances of the time, and he was convinced that he himself
had these qualifications. One qualification, however, for
becoming a prophet he certainly did not possess : he had
no genuine religious enthusiasm in him — nothing of the
martyr spirit about him. Much of his own preaching he
did not himself believe, and he had a secret contempt for
those who naively accepted it all. Not only was he cunning,
but he knew he was cunning, and he was conscious that
he was playing an assumed part. And yet perhaps it would
be unjust to say that he was merely an impostor exclusively
occupied with his own personal advantage. Though he
was naturally a man of sensual tastes, and could not resist
convenient opportunities of gratifying them, he seemed to
believe that his communistic schemes would, if realised, be
beneficial not only to himself, but also to the people.
Altogether a curious mixture of the prophet, the social
reformer, and the cunning impostor !

Besides the Molokanye, there are in Russia many other
heretical sects. Some of them are simply Evangelical
Protestants, like the "Stundisti," who have adopted the
religious conceptions of their neighbours, the German
colonists ; whilst others are composed of wild enthusiasts,
who give a loose rein to their excited imagination, and revel
in what the Germans aptly term "der hohere Blodsinn." I
cannot here attempt to convey even a general idea of these
fantastic sects with their doctrinal and ceremonial absurdi-
ties, but I may offer the following classification of them for
the benefit of those who may desire to study the subject : —

1. Sects which take the Scriptures as the basis of their
belief, but interpret and complete the doctrines therein con-
tained by means of the occasional inspiration or internal
enlightenment of their leading members.

2. Sects which reject interpretation and insist on certain
passages of Scripture being taken in the literal sense. In

268 RUSSIA

one of the best known of these sects — the Skoptsi, or
Eunuchs — fanaticism has led to physical mutilation.

3. Sects which pay little or no attention to Scripture,
and derive their doctrine from the supposed inspiration of
their living teachers.

4. Sects which believe in the re-incarnation of Christ.

5. Sects which confound religion with nervous excite-
ment, and are more or less erotic in their character. The
excitement necessary for prophesying is commonly produced
by dancing, jumping, pirouetting, or self-castigation ; and
the absurdities spoken at such times are regarded as the
direct expression of Divine wisdom. The religious exercises
resemble more or less closely those of the "dancing der-
vishes" and "howling dervishes," with which all who have
visited Constantinople are familiar. There is, however, one
important difference : these dervishes practise their religious
exercises in public, and consequently observe a certain
decorum, whilst the Russian sects to which I refer as-
semble in secret, and give free scope to their excitement,
so that most disgusting orgies sometimes take place at their
meetings.

To illustrate the general character of the sects belonging
to this last category, I may quote here a short extract from
a description of the " Khlysti " by one who was initiated
into their mysteries :—" Among them men and women alike
take upon themselves the calling of teachers and prophets,
and in this character they lead a strict, ascetic life, refrain
from the most ordinary and innocent pleasures, exhaust
themselves by long fasting and wild, ecstatic religious
exercises, and abhor marriage. Under the excitement caused
by their supposed holiness and inspiration, they call them-
selves not only teachers and prophets, but also 'Saviours,'
* Redeemers,' ' Christs,' ' Mothers of God.' Generally
speaking, they call themselves simply Gods, and pray to
each other as to real Gods and living Christs or Madonnas.
When several of these teachers come together at a meeting,
they dispute with each other in a vain, boasting way as to
which of them possesses most grace and power. In this
rivalry they sometimes give each other lusty blows on the
ear, and he who bears the blows most patiently, turning

THE GOVERNMENT'S ATTITUDE 269

the other cheek to the smiter, acquires the reputation of
having most holiness."

Another sect belonging to this category is the Jumpers,
among whom the erotic element is disagreeably prominent.
Here is a description of their religious meetings, which are
held during summer in the forest, and during winter in
some outhouse or barn: — "After due preparation prayers
are read by the chief teacher, dressed in a white robe and
standing in the midst of the congregation. At first he
reads in an ordinary tone of voice, and then passes gradually
into a merry chant. When he remarks that the chanting
has sufficiently acted on the hearers, he begins to jump.
The hearers, singing likewise, follow his example. Their
ever-increasing excitement finds expression in the highest
possible jumps. This they continue as long as they can —
men and women alike yelling like enraged savages. When
all are thoroughly exhausted, the leader declares that he
hears the angels singing " — and then begins a scene which
cannot be here described.

It is but fair to add that we know very little of these
peculiar sects, and what we do know is furnished by avowed
enemies. It is very possible, therefore, that some of them
are not nearly so absurd as they are commonly represented,
and that many of the stories told are mere calumnies.

Until quite recently the Government showed itself very
hostile to sectarianism, and occasionally endeavoured to
suppress it. This was natural enough as regards these
fantastic sects, but it seems strange that the peaceful, in-
dustrious, honest Molokanye and Stundisti should have
been put under the ban. Why is it that a Russian peasant
should be punished for holding doctrines which are openly
professed, with the sanction of the authorities, by his
neighbours, the German colonists?

To understand this the reader must know that according
to Russian conception there are two distinct kinds of heresy,
distinguished from each other, not by the doctrines held,
but by the nationality of the holder. It seems to a Russian
in the nature of things that Tartars should be Mahometans,
that Poles should be Roman Catholics, and that Germans
should be Protestants; and the mere act of becoming a

270 RUSSIA

Russian subject is not supposed to lay the Tartar, the Pole,
or the German under any obligation to change his faith.
These nationalities, therefore, have always been allowed the
most perfect freedom in the exercise of their respective
religions, so long as they refrained from disturbing by
propagandism the divinely established order of things.

This is the received theory, and we must do the Russians
the justice to say that they have habitually acted up to it.
If the Government has sometimes attempted to convert alien
races, the motive has always been political, and the efforts
have never awakened much sympathy among the people at
large, or even among the clergy. In like manner the
missionary societies which have sometimes been formed in
imitation of the Western nations have never received much
popular support. Thus with regard to aliens this peculiar
theory led to very extensive religious toleration. With
regard to the Russians themselves the theory had a very
different effect. If in the nature of things the Tartar is a
Mahometan, the Pole a Roman Catholic, and the German
a Protestant, it is equally in the nature of things that the
Russian should be a member of the Orthodox Church. On
this point the written law and public opinion were in perfect
accord. If an Orthodox Russian became a Roman Catholic
or a Protestant, he was amenable to the criminal law, and
was at the same time condemned by public opinion as an
apostate and renegade — almost as a traitor. Now there is
a change for the better. In March, 1903, liberty of con-
science was solemnly proclaimed by the Tsar as a general
principle, and since that time the principle has been gradually
introduced into the legislation, but we must not expect that
the old conceptions on the subject will immediately dis-
appear.

As to the future of these heretical sects it is impossible
to speak with confidence. The more gross and fantastic will
probably disappear as primary education spreads among
the people ; but the Protestant sects seem to possess much
more vitality. For the present, at least, they are rapidly
spreading. I have seen large villages where, according to
the testimony of the inhabitants, there was not a single
heretic fifteen years before, and where one-half of the

FUTURE OF THE SECTS 271

population had already become Molokanye ; and this change,
be it remarked, had taken place without any propagandist
organisation and before the principle of toleration had been
proclaimed. The civil and ecclesiastical authorities were well
aware of the existence of the movement, but they w^ere power-
less to prevent it. The few efforts which they made were
without effect, or worse than useless. Among the Stundists
corporal punishment was tried as an antidote — without the
concurrence, it is to be hoped, of the central authorities —
and to the Molokanye of the province of Samara a learned
monk was sent in the hope of converting them from their
errors by reason and eloquence. What effect the birch-twigs
had on the religious convictions of the Stundists I have not
been able to ascertain, but I assume that they were not very
efficacious, because the sect remained at least as numerous
as before.

Of the mission in the province of Samara I happen to
know more, and can state on the evidence of many peasants
• — some of them Orthodox — that the only immediate effect
was to stir up religious fanaticism, and to induce a certain
number of Orthodox to go over to the heretical camp. In
their public discussions the disputants could find no common
ground on which to argue, for the simple reason that their
fundamental conceptions were different. The monk spoke
of the Church as the terrestrial representative of Christ and
the sole possessor of truth, whilst his opponents knew
nothing of a Church in this sense, and held simply that
all men should live in accordance with the dictates of
Scripture. Once the monk consented to argue with them
on their ow^n ground, and on that occasion he sustained a
signal defeat, for he could not produce a single passage
recommending the veneration of Icons — a practice which
the Russian peasants consider an essential part of Ortho-
doxy. After this he always insisted on the authority of the
early GEcumenical Councils and the Fathers of the Church
— an authority which his antagonists did not recognise.
Altogether the mission was a complete failure, and all parties
regretted that it had been undertaken. "It was a great
mistake," remarked to me confidentially an Orthodox
peasant — "a very great mistake! The Molokdnye are a

272 RUSSIA

cunning people. The monk was no match for them; they
knew the Scriptures a great deal better than he did. The
Church should not condescend to discuss with heretics."

It is often said that these heretical sects are politically
disaffected, and the Molokanye are thought to be specially
dangerous in this respect. Perhaps there is a certain founda-
tion for this opinion, for men are naturally disposed to
doubt the legitimacy of a power that systematically persecutes
them ; but with regard to the Molokanye, I believe the
accusation to be a groundless calumny. Political ideas
seemed entirely foreign to their modes of thought. During
my intercourse with them I often heard them refer to the
police as "wolves which have to be fed," but I never heard
them speak of the Emperor otherwise than in terms of filial
affection and veneration.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE DISSENTERS

We must be careful not to confound those heretical sects,
Protestant and Fantastical, of which I have spoken in the
preceding chapter, with the more numerous Dissenters or
Schismatics, the descendants of those who seceded from the
Russian Church — or more correctly from whom the Russian
Church seceded — in the seventeenth century. So far from
regarding themselves as heretics, these latter consider them-
selves more orthodox than the official Orthodox Church.
They are conservatives, too, in the social as well as the
religious sense of the term. Among them are to be found
the last remnants of old Russian life, untinged by foreign
influences.

The Russian Church, as I have already had occasion
to remark, has always paid inordinate attention to ceremonial
observances, and somewhat neglected the doctrinal and moral
elements of the faith which it professes. This peculiarity
greatly facilitated the spread of its influence among a people
accustomed to pagan rites and magical incantations, but it
had the pernicious effect of confirming in the new converts
their superstitious belief in the virtue of mere ceremonies.
Thus the Russians became zealous Christians in all matters
of external observance, without knowing much about the
spiritual meaning of the rites which they practised. They
looked upon the rites and sacraments as mysterious charms
which preserved them from evil influences in the present
life and secured them eternal felicity in the life to come, and
they believed that these charms would inevitably lose their
efficacy if modified in the slightest degree. Extreme im-
portance was therefore attached to the ritual minutiae, and
the slightest modification of these minutiae assumed the
importance of an historical event. In the year 1476, for
instance, the Novgorodian Chronicler gravely relates : —

273

274 RUSSIA

"This winter some philosophers ( !) began to sing, ' Oh
Lord, have mercy,' and others merely, ' Lord, have mercy.' "
And this attaching of enormous importance to trifles was
not confined to the ignorant multitude. An Archbishop of
Novgorod declared solemnly that those who repeat the word
"Alleluia" only twice at certain points in the liturgy "sing
to their own damnation," and a celebrated Ecclesiastical
Council, held in 155 1, put such matters as the position of
the fingers when making the sign of the cross on the same
level as heresies — formally anathematising those who acted
in such trifles contrary to its decisions.

This conservative spirit in religious concerns had a
considerable influence on social life. As there was no clear
line of demarcation between religious observances and
simple traditional customs, the most ordinary act might
receive a religious significance, and the slightest departure
from a traditional custom might be looked upon as a deadly
sin. A Russian of the olden time would have resisted the
attempt to deprive him of his beard as strenuously as a
Calvinist of the present day would resist the attempt to
make him abjure the doctrine of Predestination — and both
for the same reason. As the doctrine of Predestination is
for the Calvinist, so the wearing of a beard was for the old
Russian — an essential of salvation. "Where," asked one of
the Patriarchs of Moscow, "will those who shave their chins
stand at the Last Day ? — among the righteous adorned with
beards, or among the beardless heretics ? " The question
required no answer.

In the seventeenth century this superstitious, conserva-
tive spirit reached its climax. The civil wars and foreign
invasions, accompanied by pillage, famine, and plagues,
with which that century opened, produced a widespread
conviction that the end of all things was at hand. The
mysterious number of the Beast was found to indicate the
year 1666, and timid souls began to discover signs of that
falling away from the Faith which is spoken of in the
Apocalypse. The majority of the people did not perhaps
share this notion, but they believed that the sufferings with
which they had been visited were a Divine punishment for
having forsaken the ancient customs. And it could not be

THE GREAT SCHEME 275

denied that considerable changes had taken place. Orthodox
Russia was now tainted with the presence of heretics.
Foreigners who shaved their chins and smoked the accursed
weed had been allowed to settle in Moscow, and the Tsars
not only held converse with them, but had even adopted
some of their "pagan " practices. Besides this, the Govern-
ment had introduced innovations and reforms, many of
which were displeasing to the people. In short, the country
was polluted with "heresy" — a subtle, evil influence lurking
in everything foreign, and very dangerous to the spiritual
and temporal welfare of the Faithful — something of the
nature of an epidemic, but infinitely more dangerous; for
disease kills merely the body, whereas "heresy" kills the
soul, and causes both soul and body to be cast into hell
fire.

Had the Government introduced the innovations slowly
and cautiously, respecting as far as possible all outward
forms, it might have effected much without producing a
religious panic; but, instead of acting circumspectly as the
occasion demanded, it ran full-tilt against the ancient
prejudices and superstitious fears, and drove the people into
open resistance. When the art of printing was introduced,
it became necessary to choose the best texts of the Liturgy,
Psalter, and other religious books, and on examination it
was found that, through the ignorance and carelessness of
copyists, numerous errors had crept into the manuscripts in
use. This discovery led to further investigation, which
showed that certain irregularities had likewise crept into
the ceremonial. The chief of the clerical errors lay in the
orthography of the word "Jesus," and the chief irregularity
in the ceremonial regarded the position of the fingers when
making the sign of the cross.

To correct these errors, the celebrated Nikon, who was
Patriarch in the time of Tsar Alexis, father of Peter the
Great, ordered all the old liturgical books and the old Icons
to be called in, and new ones to be distributed; but the
clergy and the people resisted. Believing these "Nikonian
novelties " to be heretical, they clung to their old Icons,
their old missals and their old religious customs, as the sole
anchors of safety which could save the Faithful from drifting

276 RUSSIA

to perdition. In vain the Patriarch assured the people that
the change was a return to the ancient forms still preserved
in Greece and Constantinople. "The Greek Church," it was
replied, "is no longer free from heresy: Orthodoxy has
become many-coloured from the violence of the Turkish
Mahomet; and the Greeks, under the sons of Hagar, have
fallen away from the ancient traditions."

An anathema, formally pronounced by an Ecclesiastical
Council against these Nonconformists, had no more effect
than the admonitions of the Patriarch. They persevered in
their obstinacy, and refused to believe that the blessed saints
and holy martyrs who had used the ancient forms had not
prayed and crossed themselves aright. "Not those holy
men of old, but the present Patriarch and his counsellors
must be heretics." "Woe to us! Woe to us!" cried the
monks of Solovetsk — a much revered monastery on an
island in the White Sea — when they received the new
Liturgies. "What have you done with the Son of God?
Give Him back to us ! You have changed Isus (the old
Russian form of Jesus) into lisus ! It is fearful not only to
commit such a sin, but even to think of it ! " And the
sturdy monks shut their gates, and defied Patriarch, Council,
and Tsar for seven long years, till the monastery was taken
by an armed force.

The decree of excommunication pronounced by the
Ecclesiastical Council placed the Nonconformists beyond
the pale of the Church, and the civil power undertook the
task of persecuting them. Persecution had, of course,
merely the effect of confirming the victims in their belief
that the Church and the Tsar had become heretical. Thou-
sands fled across the frontier and settled in the neighbouring
countries — Poland, Prussia, Sweden, Austria, Turkey, the
Caucasus, and Siberia. Others concealed themselves in the
northern forests, and in the densely wooded region near the
Polish frontier, where they lived by agriculture or fishing,
and prayed, crossed themselves, and buried their dead accord-
ing to the customs of their forefathers. The northern forests
were their favourite place of refuge. Hither flocked many
of those who wished to keep themselves pure and undefiled.
Here the more learned men among the Nonconformists —

PETER THE GREAT-ANTICHRIST ! 277

well acquainted with Holy Writ, with fragmentary transla-
tions from the Greek Fathers, and with the more important
decisions of the early CEcumenical Councils — wrote polemical
and edifying works for the confounding of heretics and the
confirming of true believers. Hence were sent out in all
directions zealous missionaries, in the guise of traders,
peddlers, and labourers, to sow what they called the living
seed, and what the official Church termed "Satan's tares."
When the Government agents discovered these retreats, the
inmates generally fled from the "ravenous wolves"; but on
more than one occasion a large number of fanatical men
and women, shutting themselves up, set fire to their houses,
and voluntarily perished in the flames. In Paleostrovski
Monastery, for instance — a famous resort of pilgrims, on
a rocky islet in Lake Onega — in the year 1687, no fewer
than 2,700 fanatics gained the crown of martyrdom in this
way; and many similar instances are on record.* As in all
periods of religious panic, the Apocalypse was carefully
studied, and the Millennial ideas rapidly spread. The signs
of the time were plain : Satan was being let loose for a little
season. Men anxiously looked for the reappearance of
Antichrist — and Antichrist appeared ! The man in whom
the people recognised the incarnate spirit of evil was no
other than Peter the Great.

From the Nonconformist point of view, Peter had very
strong claims to be considered Antichrist, He had none of
the staid, pious demeanour of the old Tsars, and showed
no respect for many things which were venerated by the
people. He ate, drank, and habitually associated with
heretics, spoke their language, wore their costume, chose
from among them his most intimate friends, and favoured
them more than his own people. Imagine the horror and
commotion which would be produced among pious Catholics
if the Pope should some day appear in the costume of the
Grand Turk, and should choose Pashas as his chief
counsellors ! The horror which Peter's conduct produced
among a large section of his subjects was not less great.

* A list of well -authenticated cases is given by Nilski, " Sera6inaya zhizn
V russkom Raskole," St. Petersburg, 1S69, part I., pp. 55 — 57. The number
of these self-immolators certainly amounted to many thousands.

278 RUSSIA

They could not explain it otherwise than by supposing him
to be the Devil in disguise, and they saw in all his important
measures convincing proofs of his Satanic origin. The
newly invented census, or "revision," was a profane
"numbering of the people," and an attempt to enrol in the
service of Beelzebub those whose names were written in
the Lamb's Book of Life. The new title of Imperator was
explained to mean something very diabolical. The passport
bearing the Imperial arms was the seal of Antichrist. The
order to shave the beard was an attempt to disfigure "the
image of God," after which man had been created, and by
which Christ would recognise His own at the Last Day.
The change in the calendar, by which New Year's Day was
transferred from September to January, was the destruction
of "the years of our Lord," and the introduction of the years
of Satan in their place. Of the ingenious arguments by
which these theses were supported, I may quote one by way
of illustration. The world, it was explained, could not have
been created in January, as the new calendar seemed to
indicate, because apples are not ripe at that season, and
consequently Eve could not have been tempted in the way
described ! *

These ideas regarding Peter and his reforms were
strongly confirmed by the vigorous persecutions which took
place during the earlier years of his reign. The Noncon-
formists were constantly convicted of political disafifection
— especially of "insulting the Imperial Majesty" — and were
accordingly flogged, tortured, and beheaded without mercy.
But when Peter had succeeded in putting down all armed
opposition, and found that the movement was no longer
dangerous for the throne, he adopted a policy more in
accordance with his personal character. Whether he him-
self had any religious belief whatever may be doubted;
certainly he had not a spark of religious fanaticism in his
nature. Exclusively occupied with secular concerns, he
took no interest in subtle questions of religious ceremonial,
and was profoundly indifferent as to how his subjects prayed
and crossed themselves, provided they obeyed his orders in

* I found this ingenious argument in one of the polemical treatises of the
Old Believers.

RELIGIOUS TOLERATION 279

worldly matters and paid their taxes regularly. As soon,
therefore, as political considerations admitted of clemency,
he stopped the persecutions, and at last, in 17 14, issued
ukazes to the effect that all Dissenters might live unmolested,
provided they inscribed themselves in the official registers
and paid a double poll-tax. Somewhat later they were
allowed to practise freely all their old rites and customs, on
condition of paying certain fines.

With the accession of Catherine IL, "the friend of
philosophers," the Raskol,* as the schism had come to be
called, entered on a new phase. Penetrated with the ideas
of religious toleration then in fashion in Western Europe,
Catherine abolished the disabilities to which the Rask61niks
were subjected, and invited those of them who had fled across
the frontier to return to their homes. Thousands accepted
the invitation, and many who had hitherto sought to conceal
themselves from the eyes of the authorities became rich and
respected merchants. The peculiar semi-monastic religious
communities, which had up till that time existed only in the
forests of the northern and western provinces, began to
appear in Moscow, and were officially recognised by the
Administration. At first they took the form of hospitals for
the sick, or asylums for the aged and infirm, but soon they
became regular monasteries, the superiors of which exercised
an undefined spiritual authority not only over the inmates,
but also over the members of the sect throughout the length
and breadth of the Empire.

From that time down to the present the Government has
followed a wavering policy, oscillating between complete
tolerance and active persecution. It must, however, be said
that the persecution has never been of a very searching kind.
In persecution, as in all other manifestations, the Russian
Church directs its attention chiefly to external forms. It
does not seek to ferret out heresy in a man's opinions, but
complacently accepts as Orthodox all who annually appear
at confession and communion, and who refrain from acts
of open hostility. Those who can make these concessions

* The term is derived from two Russian words — ras, asunder ; and koloi,
to split. Those who belong to the Raskdl are called Raskolniks. They call
themselves Sidro-obriddtsi (Old Ritualists) or Staroveri (Old Believers).

28o RUSSIA

to conventionalities are practically free from molestation, and
those who cannot so trifle with their conscience have an
equally convenient method of escaping persecution. The
parish clergy, with their customary indifference to things
spiritual and their traditional habit of regarding their
functions from the financial point of view, are hostile to
sectarianism, chiefly because it diminishes their revenues by
diminishing the number of parishioners requiring their
ministrations. This cause of hostility, therefore, could
easily be removed by a certain pecuniary sacrifice on the
part of the sectarians, and accordingly there used to exist
between them and their parish priest a tacit contract, by
which both parties were perfectly satisfied. The priest
received his income as if all his parishioners belonged to
the State Church, and the parishioners were left in peace to
believe and practise what they pleased. By this rude, con-
venient method a very large amount of toleration was
effectually secured. Whether the practice had a beneficial
moral influence on the parish clergy is, of course, an entirely
different question.

When the priest had been satisfied, there still remained
the police, who likewise levied an irregular tax on hetero-
doxy; but the negotiations were generally not difficult, for
it was in the interest of both parties that they should come
to terms and live in good fellowship. Thus, from the time of
Catherine II. until 1903, when freedom of conscience w^as
proclaimed, the Raskolniks lived practically under the same
conditions as in the last years of Peter the Great's reign ;
they paid a tax and were not molested— only the money
paid for toleration did not find its way into the Imperial
Exchequer. These external changes in the history of the
Raskol exercised a powerful influence on its internal
development.

When formally anathematised and excluded from the
dominant Church, the Nonconformists had neither a definite
organisation nor a positive creed. The only tie that bound
them together was hostility to the "Nikonian novelties," and
all they desired was to preserve intact the beliefs and customs
of their forefathers. At first they never thought of creating
any permanent organisation. The more moderate believed

COOLING FANATICISM 281

that the old order of things would soon be re-established, and
the more fanatical imagined that the end of all things was
at hand.* In either case they had only to suffer for a little
season, keeping themselves free from the taint of heresy
and from all contact with the kingdom of Antichrist.

But years passed, and neither of these expectations was
fulfilled. The fanatics awaited in vain the sound of the last
trump and the appearance of Christ coming with His angels
to judge the world. The sun continued to rise, and the
seasons followed each other in their accustomed courses, but
the end was not yet. Nor did the civil power return to the
old faith, though Nikon fell a victim to Court intrigues and
his own overweening pride, and was formally deposed.
Tsar Alexis in the fulness of time was gathered unto his
fathers, but there was no sign of a re-establishment of the
old Orthodoxy. Gradually the leading Rask61niks perceived,
that they must make preparations, not for the Day of Judg-
ment, but for a terrestrial future — that they must create some
permanent form of ecclesiastical organisation. In this work
they encountered at the very outset not only practical but
also theoretical difficulties.

So long as they confined themselves simply to resisting
the official innovations, they seemed to be unanimous ; but
when they were forced to abandon this negative policy
and to determine theoretically their new position, radical
differences of opinion became apparent. All were convinced
that the official Russian Church had become heretical, and
that it had now Antichrist instead of Christ as its head;
but it was not easy to determine what should be done by
those who refused to bow the knee to the Son of Destruction.
According to Protestant conceptions there was a very simple
solution of the difficulty : the Nonconformists had simply to
create a new Church ifor themselves, and worship God in
the way that seemed good to them. But to the Russians of
that time such notions were still more repulsive than the
innovations of Nikon. These men were Orthodox to the
backbone — "plus royalistes que le roi " — and according to
Orthodox conceptions the founding of a new Church is an

* Some had coffins made, and lay down in them at night, in the expecta-
tion that the Second Advent might take place before the morning.

282 RUSSIA

absurdity. They believed that if the chain of historic con-
tinuity were once broken, the Church must necessarily cease
to exist, in the same way as an ancient family becomes
extinct when its sole representative dies without issue. If,
therefore, the Church had already ceased to exist, there was
no longer any means of communication between Christ and
His people, the sacraments were no longer efficacious, and
mankind was for ever deprived of the ordinary means of
grace.

Now, on this important point a difference of opinion
arose among the Dissenters. Some of them believed that,
though the ecclesiastical authorities had become heretical,
the Church still existed in the communion of those who had
refused to accept the innovations. Others declared boldly
that the Orthodox Church had ceased to exist, that the
ancient means of grace had been withdrawn, and that those
who had remained faithful must thenceforth seek salvation,
not in the sacraments, but in prayer and such other religious
exercises as did not require the co-operation of duly con-
secrated priests. Thus took place a schism among the
Schismatics. The one party retained all the sacraments and
ceremonial observances in the older form ; the other refrained
from the sacraments and from many of the ordinary rites,
on the ground that there was no longer a real priesthood,
and that consequently the sacraments could not be efficacious.
The former party are termed Stdro-obriddtsi, or Old Ritual-
ists; the latter are called Bespopovtsi — that is to say, people
"without priests" (bes popov).

The succeeding history of these two sections of the Non-
conformists has been widely different. The Old Ritualists,
being simply ecclesiastical Conservatives desirous of resist-
ing all innovations, have remained a compact body little
troubled by differences of opinion. The Priestless People,
on the contrary, ever seeking to discover some new effectual
means of salvation, have fallen into an endless number of
independent sects.

The Old Ritualists had still, however, one important
theoretical difficulty. At first they had amongst themselves
plenty of consecrated priests for the celebration of the
ordinances, but they had no means of renewing the supply.

THE OLD RITUALISTS 283

They had no bishops, and according to Orthodox beHef the
lower degrees of the clergy cannot be created without
episcopal consecration. At the time of the schism one bishop
had thrown in his lot with the Schismatics, but he had died
shortly afterwards without leaving a successor, and there-
after no bishop had joined their ranks. As time wore on,
the necessity of episcopal consecration came to be more and
more felt, and it is not a little interesting to observe how
these rigorists, who held to the letter of the law and declared
themselves ready to die for a jot or a tittle, modified their
theory in accordance with the changing exigencies of their
position. When the priests who had kept themselves "pure
and undefiled " — free from all contact with Antichrist —
became scarce, it was discovered that certain priests of the
dominant Church might be accepted if they formally abjured
the Nikonian novelties. At first, however, only those who
had been consecrated previous to the supposed apostasy of
the Church were accepted, for the very good reason that
consecration by bishops who had become heretical could not
be efficacious. When these could no longer be obtained it
was discovered that those who had been baptised previous
to the apostasy might be accepted ; and when even these
could no longer be found, a still further concession was made
to necessity, and all consecrated priests were received on
condition of their solemnly abjuring their errors. Of such
priests there was always an abundant supply. If a regular
priest could not find a parish, or if he was deposed by the
authorities for some crime or misdemeanour, he had merely
to pass over to the Old Ritualists, and was sure to find
among them a hearty welcome and a tolerable salary.

By these concessions the indefinite prolongation of Old
Ritualism was secured, but many of the Old Ritualists
could not but feel that their position was, to say the least,
extremely anomalous. They had no bishops of their own,
and their priests were all consecrated by bishops whom they
believed to be heretical ! For many years they hoped to
escape from this dilemma by discovering "Orthodox" — that
is to say, Old Ritualist — bishops somewhere in the East;
but when the East had been searched in vain, and all their
efforts to obtain native bishops proved fruitless, they con-

284 RUSSIA

ceived the design of creating a bishopric somewhere beyond
the frontier, among the Old Rituahsts who had in times of
persecution fled to Prussia, Austria, and Turkey. There
were, however, immense difficulties in the way. In the first
place it was necessary to obtain the formal permission of
some foreign Government; and in the second place an
Orthodox bishop must be found, willing to consecrate an
Old Ritualist or to become an Old Ritualist himself. Again
and again the attempt was made and failed; but at last,
after years of effort and intrigue, the design was realised.
In 1844 the Austrian Government gave permission to found
a bishopric at Belaya Krinitsa, in Galicia, a few miles from
the Russian frontier; and two years later the deposed
Metropolitan of Bosnia consented, after much hesitation, to
pass over to the Old Ritualist confession and accept the
diocese.* From that time the Old Ritualists have had their
own bishops, and have not been obliged to accept the
runaway priests of the official Church.

The Old Ritualists were naturally much grieved by the
schism, and were often sorely tried by persecution, but they
have always enjoyed a certain spiritual tranquillity, proceed-
ing from the conviction that they have preserved for them-
selves the means of salvation. The position of the more
extreme section of the Schismatics was much more tragical.
They believed that the sacraments had irretrievably lost
their efficacy, that the ordinary means of salvation were for
ever withdrawn, that the powers of darkness had been let
loose for a little season, that the authorities were the agents
of Satan, and that the personage who filled the place of the
old God-fearing Tsars was no other than Antichrist. Under
the influence of these horrible ideas they fled to the woods
and the caves to escape from the rage of the Beast, and to
await the Second Coming of our Lord.

This state of things could not continue permanently.
Extreme religious fanaticism, like all other abnormal states,
cannot long exist in a mass of human beings without some
constant exciting cause. The vulgar necessities of everyday

* An interesting account of these negotiations, and a most curious
picture of the Orthodox ecclesiastical world in Constantinople, is given by
Subb6tin, " Istoria Belokrinitskoi lerarkhii," Moscow, 1874.

THE PRIESTLESS PEOPLE 285

life, especially among people who have to live by the labour
of their hands, have a wonderfully sobering influence on
the excited brain, and must always, sooner or later, prove
fatal to inordinate excitement. A few peculiarly constituted
individuals may show themselves capable of a lifelong
enthusiasm, but the multitude is ever spasmodic in its
fervour, and begins to slide back to its former apathy as
soon as the exciting cause ceases to act.

All this we find exemplified in the history of the "Priest-
less People." When it was found that the world did not
come to an end, and that the rigorous system of persecution
was relaxed, the less excitable natures returned to their
homes and resumed their old mode of life; and when Peter
the Great made his politic concessions, many who had
declared him to be Antichrist came to suspect that he was
really not so black as he was painted. This idea struck
deep root in a religious community near Lake Onega
(Vidgovski Skit)y which had received special privileges on
condition of supplying labourers for the neighbouring
mines; and here was developed a new theory which opened
up a way of reconciliation with the Government. By a more
attentive study of Holy Writ and ancient books it was dis-
covered that the reign of Antichrist would consist of two
periods. In the former, the Son of Destruction would reign
merely in the spiritual sense, and the Faithful would not
be much molested; in the latter, he would reign visibly in
the flesh, and true believers would be subjected to the most
frightful persecution. The second period, it w^as held, had
evidently not yet arrived, for the Faithful now enjoyed "a
time of freedom, and not of compulsion or oppression."
Whether this theory is strictly in accordance with Apo-
calyptic prophecy and Patristic theology may be doubted,
but it fully satisfied those who had already arrived at the
conclusion by a different road, and who sought merely a
means of justifying their position. Certain it is that very
many accepted it, and determined to render unto Caesar the
things that were Caesar's, or, in secular language, to pray
for the Tsar and to pay their taxes.

This ingenious compromise was not accepted by all the
Priestless People. On the contrary, many of them regarded

286 RUSSIA

it as a woeful backsliding — a new device of the Evil One;
and among these irreconcilables was a certain peasant called
Theodosi, a man of little education, but of remarkable in-
tellectual power and unusual strength of character. He
raised anew the old fanaticism by his preaching and writings
— widely circulated in manuscript — and succeeded in found-
ing a new sect in the forest region near the Polish frontier.

The Priestless Nonconformists thus fell into two sections ;
the one, called Pomortsi,* accepted at least a partial recon-
ciliation with the civil power; the other, called Theodosians,
after their founder, held to the old opinions, and refused to
regard the Tsar otherwise than as Antichrist.

These latter were at first very wild in their fanaticism,
but ere long they gave way to the influences which had
softened the fanaticism of the Pom6rtsi. Under the liberal,
conciliatory rule of Catherine they lived in contentment, and
many of them enriched themselves by trade. Their fanatical
zeal and exclusiveness evaporated under the influence of
material well-being and constant contact with the outer world,
especially after they w^ere allowed to build a monastery in
Moscow. The Superior of this monastery, a man of much
shrewdness and enormous wealth, succeeded in gaining the
favour not only of the lower officials, who could be easily
bought, but even of high-placed dignitaries, and for many
years he exercised a very real, if undefined, authority over
all sections of the Priestless People. "His fame," it is said,
"sounded throughout Moscow, and the echoes were heard
in Petropol (St. Petersburg), Riga, Astrakhan, Nizhni-
Novgorod, and other lands of piety " ; and when deputies
came to consult him, they prostrated themselves in his
presence, as before the great ones of the earth. Living thus
not only in peace and plenty, but even in honour and luxury,
"the proud Patriarch of the Theodosian Church" could not
consistently fulminate against "the ravenous wolves," with
whom he was on friendly terms, or excite the fanaticism of
his followers by highly coloured descriptions of "the awful
sufferings and persecution of God's people in these latter

* The word Pomorlsi means "those who live near the sea-shore." It is
commonly applied to the inhabitants of the northern provinces — that is,
those who live near the shore of the White Sea, the only maritime frontier
that Russia possessed previous to the conquests of Peter the Great.

MARRIAGE AND CELIBACY 287

days," as the founder of the sect had been wont to do.
Though he could not openly abandon any fundamental
doctrines, he allowed the ideas about the reign of Antichrist
to fall into the background, and taught by example, if not
by precept, that the F^aithful might, by prudent concessions,
live very comfortably in this present evil world. This seed
fell upon soil already prepared for its reception. The Faith-
ful gradually forgot their old savage fanaticism, and they
have since contrived, while holding many of their old ideas
in theory, to accommodate themselves in practice to the
existing order of things.

The gradual softening and toning down of the original
fanaticism in these two sects are strikingly exemplified in
their ideas of marriage. According to Orthodox doctrine,
marriage is a sacrament which can only be performed by a
consecrated priest, and consequently for the Priestless People
the celebration of marriage was an impossibility ; but for
some time this did not cause them much inconvenience. In
the first ages of sectarianism a state of celibacy was quite
in accordance with their surroundings. Living in constant
fear of their persecutors, and wandering from one place of
refuge to another, the sufferers for the Faith had little time
or inclination to think of family ties, and readily listened
to the monks, who exhorted them to mortify the lusts of
the flesh. The result, however, proved that celibacy in the
creed by no means ensures chastity in practice. Not only
in the villages of the Dissenters, but even in those religious
communities which professed a more ascetic mode of life, a
numerous class of "orphans" began to appear, who knew
not who their parents were; and this ignorance of blood-
relationship naturally led to incestuous connections. Besides
this, the doctrine of celibacy had grave practical incon-
veniences, for the peasant requires a housewife to attend to
domestic concerns and to help him in his agricultural occupa-
tions. Thus the necessity of re-establishing family life came
to be felt, and the feeling soon found expression in a
doctrinal form both among the Pomortsi and among the
Theodosians. Learned dissertations were written, and dis-
seminated in manuscript copies, violent discussions took
place, and at last a great Council was held in Moscow to

288 RUSSIA

discuss the question.* The point at issue was never
unanimously decicied, but many accepted the ingenious
arguments in favour of matrimony, and contracted marriages
which were, of course, null and void in the eye of the law
and of the Church, but valid in all other respects.

This new backsliding of the unstable multitude produced
a new outburst of fanaticism among the stubborn few.
Some of those who had hitherto sought to conceal the origin
of the "orphan " class above referred to now boldly asserted
that the existence of this class was a religious necessity,
because in order to be saved men must repent, and in order
to repent men must sin ! At the same time the old ideas
about Antichrist were revived and preached with fervour by
a peasant called Philip, who founded a new sect called the
Philipists. This sect still exists. They hold fast to the old
belief that the Tsar is Antichrist, and that the civil and
ecclesiastical authorities are the servants of Satan — an idea
that was kept alive by the corruption and extortion for which
the Administration were notorious. They do not venture
on open resistance to the authorities, but the bolder members
take little pains to conceal their opinions and sentiments,
and may be easily recognised by their severe aspect, their
Puritanical manner, and their Pharisaical horror of every-
thing which they suppose heretical and unclean. Some of
them, it is said, carry this fastidiousness to such an extent
that they throw away the handle of a door if it has been
touched by a heretic !

It may seem that we have here reached the extreme
limits of fanaticism, but in reality there were men whom
even the Pharisaical Puritanism of the Philipists did not
satisfy. These new zealots, who appeared in the time of
Catherine II., but first became known to the official world
in the reign of Nicholas I., rebuked the lukewarmness of
their brethren, and founded a new sect in order to preserve
intact the asceticism practised immediately after the schism.
The sect still exists. They call themselves "Christ's
People " {Christoviye Lyudi), but are better known under

* I cannot here enter into the details of this remarkable controversy, but
I may say that in studying it I have been frequently astonished by the
dialectical power and logical subtlety displayed by the disputants, some of
them simple peasants.

THE WANDERERS 289

the popular names of "Wanderers" (Strdnniki), or "Fugi-
tives " {Bcgunf). Of all the sects they are the most hostile
to the existing political and social organisation. Not con-
tent with condemning the military conscription, the payment
of taxes, the acceptance of passports, and everything con-
nected with the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, they
consider it sinful to live peaceably among an Orthodox —
that is, according to their belief, a heretical — population, and
to have dealings with any who do not share their extreme
views. Holding the Antichrist doctrine in its extreme form,
they declare that Tsars are the vessels of Satan, that the
Established Church is the dwelling-place of the Father of
Lies, and that all who submit to the authorities are children
of the Devil. According to this creed, those who wish to
escape from the wrath to come must have neither houses nor
fixed places of abode, must sever all ties that bind them
to the world, and must wander about continually from
place to place. True Christians are but strangers and
pilgrims in the present life, and whoso binds himself to the
world will perish with the world.

Such is the theory of these Wanderers, but among them,
as among the less fanatical sects, practical necessities have
produced concessions and compromises. As it is impossible
to lead a nomadic life in Russian forests, the Wanderers
have been compelled to admit into their ranks what may be
called lay brethren — men who nominally belong to the sect,
but who live like ordinary mortals and have some rational
way of gaining a livelihood. These latter live in the villages
or towns, support themselves by agriculture or trade, accept
passports from the authorities, pay their taxes regularly, and
conduct themselves in all outward respects like loyal subjects.
Their chief religious duty consists in giving food and shelter
to their more zealous brethren, who have adopted a vagabond
life in practice as well as in theory. It is only when they
feel death approaching that they consider it necessary to
separate themselves from the heretical world, and they effect
this by having themselves carried out to some neighbouring
wood — or into a garden if there is no wood at hand — where
they may die in the open air.

Thus, we see, there is among the Russian Nonconformist

K

290 RUSSIA

sects what may be called a gradation of fanaticism, in which
is reflected the history of the Great Schism. In the
Wanderers we have the representatives of those who adopted
and preserved the Antichrist doctrine in its extreme form
— the successors of those who fled to the forests to escape
from the rage of the Beast and to await the second coming
of Christ. In the PhiHpists we have the representatives of
those who adopted these ideas in a somewhat softer form,
and who came to recognise the necessity of having some
regular means of subsistence until the last trump should
be heard. The Theodosians represent those who were in
theory at one with the preceding category, but who, having
less religious fanaticism, considered it necessary to yield to
force and make peace with the Government without sacri-
ficing their convictions. In the Pomortsi we see those who
preserved only the religious ideas of the schism, and became
reconciled with the civil power. Lastly, we have the Old
Ritualists, who differed from all the other sects in retaining
the old ordinances, and who simply rejected the spiritual
authority of the dominant Church. Besides these chief
sections of the Nonconformists there are a great many minor
denominations (tolki), differing from each other on minor
points of doctrine. In certain districts, it is said, nearly
every village has one or two independent sects. This is
especially the case among the Don Cossacks and the
Cossacks of the Ural, who are in part descendants of the
men who fled from the early persecutions.

Of all the sects the Old Ritualists stand nearest to the
official Church. They hold the same dogmas, practise the
same rites, and differ only in trifling ceremonial matters,
which few people consider essential. In the hope of inducing
them to return to the official fold the Government created
at the beginning of last century special churches, in which
they were allowed to retain their ceremonial peculiarities on
condition of accepting regularly consecrated priests and
submitting to ecclesiastical jurisdiction. As yet the design
has not met with much success. The great majority of the
Old Ritualists regard it as a trap, and assert that the Church
in making this concession has been guilty of self-contra-
diction. "The Ecclesiastical Council of Moscow," they say.

CONCILIATION 291

"anathematised our forefathers for holding to the old ritual,
and declared that the whole course of nature would be
changed sooner than the curse be withdrawn. The course
of nature has not been changed, but the anathema has been
cancelled." This argument ought to have a certain weight
with those who believe in the infallibility of Ecclesiastical
Councils.

Towards the Priestless People the Government has
always acted in a much less conciliatory spirit. Its severity
has been sometimes justified on the ground that sectarianism
has had a political as well as a religious significance. A
State like Russia cannot overlook the existence of sects
which preach the duty of systematic resistance to the civil
and ecclesiastical authorities and hold doctrines which lead
to the grossest immorality. This argument, it must be
admitted, is not without a certain force, but it seems to me
that the policy adopted tended to increase rather than
diminish the evils which it sought to cure. Instead of
dispelling the absurd idea that the Tsar was Antichrist by
a system of strict and even-handed justice, punishing merely
actual crimes and delinquencies, the Government confirmed
the notion in the minds of thousands by persecuting those
who had committed no crime and who desired merely to
worship God according to their conscience. Above all it
erred in opposing and punishing those marriages which,
though legally irregular, were the best possible means of
diminishing fanaticism, by leading back the fanatics to
healthy social life. Fortunately these errors have now been
abandoned. A policy of greater clemency and conciliation
has been adopted, and has proved much more efficacious
than persecution. The Dissenters have not returned to the
official fold, but they have lost mucn 01 their old fanaticism
and exclusiveness.

In respect of numbers the sectarians compose a very
formidable body. Of Old Ritualists and Priestless People
there are, it is said, no less than eleven millions; and the
Protestant and Fantastical sects comprise probably about
five millions more. If these numbers be correct, the
sectarians constitute about a tenth of the whole popula-
tion of the Empire. They count in their ranks none of the

292 RUSSIA

nobles — none of the so-called enlightened class — but they
include in their number a respectable proportion of the
peasants, a third of the rich merchant class, the majority of
the Don Cossacks, and nearly all the Cossacks of the Ural.

Under these circumstances it is important to know how
far the sectarians are politically disaffected. Some people
imagine that in the event of an insurrection or a foreign
invasion they might rise against the Government, whilst
others believe that this supposed danger is purely imaginary.
For my own part I agree with the latter opinion, which is
strongly supported by the history of many important events,
such as the French invasion in 1812, the Crimean War, the
Polish insurrection of 1863, and the war with Japan. In
none of these troublous times have there been any religious
disturbances. The great majority of the Schismatics and
heretics are, I believe, loyal subjects of the Tsar. The more
violent sects, which are alone capable of active hostility
against the authorities, are weak in numbers, and regard all
outsiders with such profound mistrust that they are wholly
impervious to inflammatory influences from without. Even
if all the sects were capable of active hostility, they would
not be nearly so formidable as their numbers seem to indicate,
for they are hostile to each other, and are wholly incapable
of combining for a common purpose.

Though sectarianism is thus by no means a serious
political danger, it has nevertheless a considerable political
significance. It proves that the Russian people is by no
means so docile and pliable as is commonly supposed, and
that it is capable of showing a stubborn, passive resistance
to authority when it believes great interests to be at stake.
The dogged energy which it has displayed in asserting for
centuries its religious liberty may perhaps some day be
employed in the arena of secular politics.

CHAPTER XIX

CHURCH AND STATE

From the curious world of heretics and Dissenters let us
pass now to the Russian Orthodox Church, to which the
great majority of the Russian people belong. It has played
an important part in the national history, and has exercised a
powerful influence in the formation of the national character.
Russians are in the habit of patriotically and proudly
congratulating themselves on the fact that their forefathers
always resisted successfully the aggressive tendencies of the
Papacy, but it may be doubted whether, from a worldly
point of view, the freedom from Papal authority has been
an unmixed blessing for the country. If the Popes failed
to realise their grand design of creating a vast European
empire based on theocratic principles, they succeeded at
least in inspiring with a feeling of brotherhood and a vague
consciousness of common interest all the nations which
acknowledged their spiritual supremacy. These nations,
whilst remaining politically independent and frequently
coming into hostile contact with each other, all looked to
Rome as the capital of the Christian world, and to the Pope
as the highest terrestrial authority. Though the Church did
not annihilate nationality, it made a wide breach in the
political barriers, and formed a channel for international
communication by which the social and intellectual progress
of each nation became known to all the other members of
the great Christian confederacy. Throughout the length and
breadth of the Papal Commonwealth, educated men had a
common language, a common literature, a common scientific
method, and to a certain extent a common jurisprudence.
Western Christendom was thus all through the Middle Ages
not merely an abstract conception or a geographical expres-
sion : if not a political, it was at least a religious and
intellectual unit, and all the countries of which it was com-
posed benefited more or less by the connection.

293

294 RUSSIA

For centuries Russia stood outside of this religious and
intellectual confederation, for her Church connected her not
with Rome, but with Constantinople, and Papal Europe
looked upon her as belonging to the barbarous East. When
the Mongol hosts swept over her plains, burnt her towns and
villages, and finally incorporated her into the great empire
of Genghis Khan, the so-called Christian world took no
interest in the struggle except in so far as its own safety
was threatened. And as time wore on, the barriers which
separated the two great sections of Christendom became more
and more formidable. The aggressive pretensions and
ambitious schemes of the Vatican produced in the Greek
Orthodox world a profound antipathy to the Roman Catholic
Church and to Western influence of every kind. So strong
was this aversion that when the nations of the West
awakened in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries from their
intellectual lethargy and began to move forward on the path
of intellectual and material progress, Russia not only re-
mained unmoved, but looked on the new civilisation with
suspicion and fear as a thing heretical and accursed. We
have here one of the chief reasons why Russia, at the
present day, is in many respects less civilised than the
nations of Western Europe.

But it is not merely in this negative way that the accept-
ance of Christianity from Constantinople has affected the
fate of Russia. The Greek Church, whilst excluding Roman
Catholic civilisation, exerted at the same time a powerful
positive influence on the historical development of the nation.

The Church of the West inherited from old Rome some-
thing of that logical, juridical, administrative spirit which
had created the Roman law, and something of that ambition
and dogged, energetic perseverance that had formed nearly
the whole known world into a great centralised empire. The
Bishops of Rome early conceived the design of reconstruct-
ing that old empire on a new basis, and long strove to create
a universal Christian theocratic State, in which kings and
other civil authorities should be the subordinates of Christ's
Vicar upon earth. The Eastern Church, on the contrary,
has remained true to her Byzantine traditions, and has never
dreamed of such lofty pretensions. Accustomed to lean on

INFLUENCE OF GREEK CHURCH 295

the civil power, she has always been content to play a
secondary part, and has never strenuously resisted the
formation of national churches.

For about two centuries after the introduction of Chris-
tianity— from 988 till 1240 — Russia formed, ecclesiastically
speaking-, part of the Patriarchate of Constantinople. The
metropolitans and the bishops were Greeks by birth and
education, and the ecclesiastical administration was guided
and controlled by the Byzantine Patriarchs. But from the
time of the Mongol invasion, when the communications
with Constantinople became more difficult and educated
native priests had become more numerous, this complete
dependence on the Patriarch of Constantinople ceased. The
Princes gradually arrogated to themselves the right of
choosing the Metropolitan of Kief — who was at that time
the chief ecclesiastical dignitary in Russia — and merely sent
their nominees to Constantinople for consecration. About
1448 this formality came to be dispensed with, and the
Metropolitan was commonly consecrated by a Council of
Russian bishops. A further step in the direction of
ecclesiastical autonomy was taken in 1589, when the Tsar
succeeded in procuring the consecration of a Russian
Patriarch, equal in dignity and authority to the Patriarchs
of Constantinople, Jerusalem, Antioch, and Alexandria.

In all matters of external form the Patriarch of Moscow
was a very important personage. He exercised a certain
influence in civil as well as ecclesiastical affairs, bore the
official title of "Great Lord" {Veliki Gosuddr), which had
previously been reserved for the civil head of the State, and
habitually received from the people scarcely less veneration
than the Tsar himself. But in reality he possessed very
little independent power. The Tsar was the real ruler in
ecclesiastical as well as in civil affairs.*

* As this is frequently denied by Russians, it may be well to quote one
authority out of many that might be cited. Bishop Makarii, whose erudition
and good faith are alike above suspicion, says of Dmitri of the Don : " He
arrogated to himself full, unconditional power over the Head of the Russian
Church, and through him over the whole Russian Church itself " (" Istoriya
Russkoi Tserkvi," V., p. loi). This is said of a Grand Prince who had
strong rivals and had to treat the Church as an ally. When the Grand
Princes became Tsars and had no longer any rivals, their power was certainly
not diminished. Any further confirmation that may be required will be found
in the life of the famous Patriarch Nikon.

296 RUSSIA

The Russian Patriarchate came to an end in the time
of Peter the Great. Peter wished, among other things, to
reform the ecclesiastical administration, and to introduce into
his country many novelties which the majority of the clergy
and of the people regarded as heretical ; and he clearly
perceived that a bigoted, energetic Patriarch might throw
considerable obstacles in his way, and cause him infinite
annoyance. Though such a Patriarch might be deposed
without any flagrant violation of the canonical formalities,
the operation would necessarily be attended with great
trouble and loss of time. Peter was no friend of roundabout,
tortuous methods, and preferred to remove the difficulty in
his usual thorough, violent fashion. When the Patriarch
Adrian died, the customary short interregnum was prolonged
for twenty years, and when the people had thus become
accustomed to having no Patriarch, it was announced that
no more Patriarchs would be elected. Their place was
supplied by an ecclesiastical council, or Synod, in which, as
a contemporary explained, "the mainspring was Peter's
power, and the pendulum his understanding." The great
autocrat justly considered that such a Council could be
much more easily managed than a stubborn Patriarch, and
the wisdom of the measure has been duly appreciated by
succeeding sovereigns. Though the idea of re-establishing
the Patriarchate has more than once been raised, and is not
yet extinct, it has never been carried into execution. The
Holy Synod remains the highest ecclesiastical authority.

But the Emperor? What is his relation to the Synod
and to the Church in general ?

This is a question about which zealous Orthodox
Russians are extremely sensitive. If a foreigner ventures
to hint in their presence that the Emperor seems to have a
considerable influence in the Church, he may inadvertently
produce a little outburst of patriotic warmth and virtuous
indignation. The truth is that many Russians have a pet
theory on this subject, and have at the same time a dim
consciousness that the theory is not quite in accordance with
reality. They hold theoretically that the Orthodox Church
has no "Head " but Christ, and is in some peculiar undefined
sense entirely independent of all terrestrial authority. In

EASTERN ORTHODOXY 297

this respect it is often contrasted with the Anglican Church,
much to the disadvantage of the latter; and the supposed
differences between the two are made a theme for semi-
religious, semi-patriotic exultation. Khomiakov, for in-
stance, in one of his most vigorous poems, predicted that
God would one day take the destiny of the world out of the
hands of England in order to give it to Russia, and he
adduced as one of the reasons for this transfer the fact that
England "has chained, with sacrilegious hand, the Church
of God to the pedestal of the vain earthly power." So far
the theory. As to the facts, it is unquestionable that the
Tsar exercises a much greater influence in ecclesiastical
affairs than the King and Parliament in England. All who
know the internal history of Russia are aware that the
Government does not draw a clear line of distinction between
the temporal and the spiritual, and that it occasionally uses
the ecclesiastical organisation for political purposes.

What, then, are the relations between Church and State?

To avoid confusion, we must carefully distinguish'
between the Eastern Orthodox Church as a whole and that
section of it which is known as the Russian Church.

The Eastern Orthodox Church * is, properly speaking,
a confederation of independent churches without any central
authority — a unity founded on the possession of a common
dogma and on the theoretical but now unrealisable possibility
of holding OEcumenical Councils. The Russian National
Church is one of the members of this ecclesiastical con-
federation. In matters of faith it is bound by the decisions
of the ancient Oecumenical Councils, but in all other respects
it enjoys complete independence and autonomy.

In relation to the Orthodox Church as a whole the
Emperor of Russia is nothing more than a simple member,
and can no more interfere with its dogmas or ceremonial
than a King of Italy or an Emperor of the French could
modify Roman Catholic theology ; but in relation to the
Russian National Church his position is peculiar. He is
described in one of the fundamental laws as "the supreme
defender and preserver of the dogmas of the dominant faith,"
and immediately afterw-ards it is said that "the Autocratic

* Or Greek Orthodox Church, as it is sometimes called.

298 RUSSIA

Power acts in the ecclesiastical administration by means of
the most Holy Governing Synod, created by it." * This
describes very fairly the relations between the Emperor and
the Church. He is merely the defender of the dogmas, and
cannot in the least modify them ; but he is at the same time
the chief administrator, and uses the Synod as an instrument.

Some ingenious people who wish to prove that the
creation of the Synod was not an innovation represent the
institution as a resuscitation of the ancient local councils;
but this view is utterly untenable. The Synod is not a
council of deputies from various sections of the Church, but
a permanent college, or ecclesiastical senate, the members
of which are appointed and dismissed by the Emperor as he
thinks fit. It has no independent legislative authority, for
its legislative projects do not become law till they have
received the Imperial sanction; and they are ahvays pub-
lished, not in the name of the Church, but in the name of
the Supreme Power. Even in matters of simple administra-
tion it is not independent, for all its resolutions require the
consent of the Procureur, a layman nominated by his
Majesty. In theory this functionary protests only against
those resolutions which are not in accordance with the civil
law of the country ; but as he alone has the right to address
the Emperor directly on ecclesiastical concerns, and as all
communications between the Emperor and the Synod pass
through his hands, he possesses in reality considerable
power. Besides this, he can always influence the individual
members by holding out prospects of advancement and
decorations, and if this device fails, he can make the refrac-
tory members retire, and fill up their places with men of
more pliant disposition. A Council constituted in this way
cannot, of course, display much independence of thought or
action, especially in a country like Russia, where no one
ventures to oppose openly the Imperial will.

It must not, however, be supposed that the Russian
ecclesiastics regard the Imperial authority with jealousy or
dislike. They are all most loyal subjects, and generally
warm adherents of autocracy. Those ideas of ecclesiastical
independence which are so common in Western Europe, and
* Svod Zakonov I., §§ 4a, 43.

ECCLESIASTICAL GRUMBLING 299

that spirit of opposition to the civil power which animates
the Roman CathoHc clergy, are entirely foreign to their
minds. If a bishop sometimes complains to an intimate
friend that he has been brought to St. Petersburg and made
a member of the Synod merely to append his signature to
official papers and to give his consent to foregone conclu-
sions, his displeasure is directed, not against the Emperor,
but against the Procureur. He is full of loyalty and devotion
to the Tsar, and has no desire to see his Majesty excluded
from all influence in ecclesiastical affairs, but he feels sad-
dened and humiliated when he finds that the whole govern-
ment of the Church is in the hands of a lay functionary,
who may be a military man, and who looks at all matters
from a layman's point of view.

This close connection between Church and State and the
thoroughly national character of the Russian Church is well
illustrated by the history of the local ecclesiastical administra-
tion. The civil and the ecclesiastical administration have
always had the same character and have always been modified
by the same influences. The terrorism which was largely
used by the Muscovite Tsars and brought to a climax by
Peter the Great appeared equally in both. In the episcopal
circulars, as in the Imperial ukazes, we find frequent mention
of "most cruel corporal punishment," "cruel punishment
with whips, so that the delinquent and others may not acquire
the habit of practising such insolence," and much more of the
same kind. And these terribly severe measures were some-
times directed against very venial ofi"ences. The Bishop of
Vologda, for instance, in 1748 decrees "cruel corporal punish-
ment" against priests who wear coarse and ragged clothes,*
and the records of the Consistorial courts contain abund-
ant proof that such decrees might be rigorously executed.
When Catherine IL introduced a more humane spirit into
the civil administration, corporal punishment was at once
abolished in the Consistorial courts, and the procedure was
modified according to the accepted maxims of civil juris-
prudence. But I must not weary the reader with tiresome
historical details. Suffice it to say that, from the time of

* Zn^menski, " Prikh6dskoe Dukhovenstvo v Rossfi so vremeni reformy
Petra," Kazan, 1873.

300 RUSSIA

Peter the Great downwards, the character of all the more
energetic sovereigns is reflected in the history of the eccle-
siastical administration.

Each province, or "government," forms a diocese, and
the bishop, like the civil governor, has a Council which
theoretically controls his power, but practically has no con-
trolling influence whatever. The Consistorial Council, which
has in the theory of ecclesiastical procedure a very imposing
appearance, is in reality the bishop's chancellerie, and its
members are little more than secretaries, whose chief object
is to make themselves agreeable to their superior. And it
must be confessed that, so long as they remain what they
are, the less power they possess the better it will be for those
who have the misfortune to be under their jurisdiction. The
higher dignitaries have at least larger aims and a certain
consciousness of the dignity of their position ; but the lower
officials, who have no such healthy restraints and receive
ridiculously small salaries, grossly misuse the little authority
which they possess, and habitually pilfer and extort in the
most shameless manner. The Consistories are, in fact, what
the public offices were in the time of Nicholas I.

The higher ecclesiastical administration has always been
in the hands of the monks, or "Black Clergy," as they are
commonly termed, who form a large and influential class.
The monks who first settled in Russia were, like those who
first visited North-Western Europe, men of the earnest,
ascetic, missionary type. Filled with zeal for the glory of
God and the salvation of souls, they took little or no thought
for the morrow, and devoutly believed that their Heavenly
Father, without whose knowledge no sparrow falls to the
ground, would provide for their humble wants. Poor, clad
in rags, eating the most simple fare, and ever ready to share
what they had with anyone poorer than themselves, they
performed faithfully and earnestly the work which their
Master had given them to do. But this ideal of monastic
life soon gave way in Russia, as in the West, to practices
less simple and austere. By the liberal donations and
bequests of the faithful the monasteries became rich in gold,
in silver, in precious stones, and above all in land and serfs.
Troitsa, for instance, possessed at one time 120,000 serfs

MONASTICISM 301

and a proportionate amount of land, and it is said that at
the beginning of the eighteenth century more than a fourth
of the entire population had fallen under the jurisdiction of
the Church, Many of the monasteries engaged in commerce,
and the monks were, if we may credit Fletcher, who visited
Russia in 1588, the most intelligent merchants of the
country.

During the eighteenth century the Church lands were,
secularised, and the serfs of the Church became serfs of the
State. This was a severe blow for the monasteries, but it
did not prove fatal, as many people predicted. Some
monasteries were abolished and others were reduced to
extreme poverty, but many survived and prospered. These
could no longer possess serfs, but they had still three sources
of revenue : a limited amount of real property, Government
subsidies, and the voluntary offerings of the faithful. At
present there are about 500 monastic establishments, and the
great majority of them, though not wealthy, have revenues
more than sufficient to satisfy all the requirements of an
ascetic life.

Thus in Russia, as in Western Europe, the history of
monastic institutions is composed of three chapters, which
may be briefly entitled : asceticism and missionary enter-
prise ; wealth, luxury, and corruption ; secularisation of
property and decline. But between Eastern and Western
monasticism there is at least one marked difference. The
monasticism of the West made at various epochs of its
history a vigorous, spontaneous effort at self-regeneration,
which found expression in the foundation of separate Orders,
each of which proposed to itself some special aim — some
special sphere of usefulness. In Russia we find no similar
phenomenon. Here the monasteries never deviated from the
rules of St. Basil, which restrict the members to religious
ceremonies, prayer, and contemplation. From time to time
a solitary individual raised his voice against the prevailing
abuses, or retired from his monastery to spend the remainder
of his days in ascetic solitude; but neither in the monastic
population as a whole, nor in any particular monastery, do
we find at any time a spontaneous, vigorous movement
towards reform. During the last two hundred years reforms

302 RUSSIA

have certainly been effected, but they have all been the work
of the civil power, and in the realisation of them the monks
have shown little more than the virtue of resignation. Here,
as elsewhere, we have evidence of that inertness, apathy, and
want of spontaneous vigour which form one of the most
characteristic traits of Russian national life. In this, as in
other departments of national activity, the spring of action
has lain not in the people, but in the Government.

It is only fair to the monks to state that in their dislike
to progress and change of every kind they merely reflect the
traditional spirit of the Church to which they belong. The
Russian Church, like the Eastern Orthodox Church gener-
ally, is essentially conservative. Anything in the nature of
a religious revival is foreign to her traditions and character.
Quieta non movere is her fundamental principle of conduct.
She prides herself on being above terrestrial influences.

The modifications that have been made in her administra-
tive organisation have not affected her inner nature. In spirit
and character she is now what she was under the Patriarchs
in the time of the Muscovite Tsars, holding fast to the
promise that no jot or tittle shall pass from the law till all
be fulfilled. To those who talk about the requirements of
modern life and modern science she turns a deaf ear. Partly
from the predominance which she gives to the ceremonial
element, partly from the fact that her chief aim is to preserve
unmodified the doctrine and ceremonial as determined by the
early CEcumenical Councils, and partly from the low state
of general culture among the clergy, she has ever remained
outside of the intellectual movements. The attempts of the
Roman Catholic Church to develop the traditional dogmas
by definition and deduction, and the efforts of Protestants
to reconcile their creeds with progressive science and the
ever-varying intellectual currents of the time, are alike
foreign to her nature. Hence she has produced no profound
theological treatises conceived in a philosophical spirit, and
has made no attempt to combat the spirit of infidelity in
its modern forms. Profoundly convinced that her position is
impregnable, she has "let the nations rave," and scarcely
deigned to cast a glance at their intellectual and religious
struggles. In a word, she is "in the world, but not of it."

RUSSIAN RELIGIOUS ART 303

If we wish to see represented in a visible form the
peculiar characteristics of the Russian Church, we have
only to glance at Russian religious art, and compare it with
that of Western Europe. In the West, from the time of the
Renaissance downwards, religious art has kept pace with
artistic progress. Gradually it emancipated itself from
archaic forms and childish symbolism, converted the lifeless
typical figures into living individuals, lit up their dull eyes
and expressionless faces with human intelligence and human
feeling, and finally aimed at arch^ological accuracy in
costume and other details. Thus in the West the Icon grew
slowly into the naturalistic portrait, and the rude symbolical
groups developed gradually into highly finished historical
pictures. In Russia the history of religious art has been
entirely different. Instead of distinctive schools of painting
and great religious artists, there has been merely an
anonymous traditional craft, destitute of any artistic in-
dividuality. In all the productions of this craft the old
Byzantine forms have been faithfully and rigorously pre-
served, and we can see reflected in the modern Icons — stiff,
archaic, expressionless—the immobility of the Eastern
Church in general, and of the Russian Church in particular.

To the Roman Catholic, who struggles against science
as soon as it contradicts traditional conceptions, and to the
Protestant, who strives to bring his religious beliefs into
accordance with his scientific knowledge, the Russian Church
may seem to resemble an antediluvian petrifaction, or a
cumbrous line-of-battle ship that has been long stranded.
It must be confessed, however, that the serene inactivity
for which she is distinguished has had very valuable practical
consequences. The Russian clergy have neither that
haughty, aggressive intolerance which characterises their
Roman Catholic brethren, nor that bitter, uncharitable,
sectarian spirit which is too often to be found among Protes-
tants. They allow not only to heretics, but also to members
of their own communion, the most complete intellectual
freedom, and never think of anathematising anyone for his
scientific or unscientific opinions. All that they demand is
that those who have been born within the pale of Ortho-
doxy should show the Church a certain nominal allegiance;

304 RUSSIA

and in this matter of allegiance they are by no means very
exacting. So long as a member refrains from openly
attacking the Church and from going over to another con-
fession, he may entirely neglect all religious ordinances and
publicly profess scientific theories logically inconsistent
with any kind of dogmatic religious belief, without the
slightest danger of incurring ecclesiastical censure.

This apathetic tolerance may be partly explained by the
national character, but it is also to some extent due to the
peculiar relations between Church and State. The Govern-
ment vigilantly protects the Church from attack, and at the
same time prevents her from attacking her enemies. Hence
religious questions are never discussed in the Press, and the
ecclesiastical literature is all historical, homiletic, or devo-
tional. The authorities allow public oral discussions to be
held during Lent in the Kremlin of Moscow between members
of the State Church and Old Ritualists ; but these debates
are not theological in our sense of the term. They turn
exclusively on details of Church History, and on the minutiae
of ceremonial observance.

From time to time there has been a good deal of vague
talk about a possible union of the Russian and Anglican
Churches. If by "union" is meant simply union in the
bonds of brotherly love, there can be, of course, no objection
to any amount of such pia desideria; but if anything more
real and practical is intended, the project is an absurdity.
A real union of the Russian and Anglican Churches would
be as difficult of realisation, and is as undesirable, as a
union of the Russian Duma and the British House of
Commons.*

* I suppose that the more serious partisans of the union scheme mean
union with the Eastern Orthodox, and not with the Russian, Church. To
them the above remarks are not addressed. Their scheme is, in my opinion,
unrealisable and undesirable, but it contains nothing absurd.

CHAPTER XX

THE NOBLESSE

Hitherto I have been compelling the reader to move about
among what we should call the lower classes — peasants,
burghers, traders, parish priests. Dissenters, heretics,
Cossacks, and the like — and he feels perhaps inclined to
complain that he has had no opportunity of mixing with
what old-fashioned people call gentlefolk and persons of
quality. By way of making amends to him for this repre-
hensible conduct on my part, I propose now to present him
to the whole Noblesse * in a body, not only those at present
living, but also their near and distant ancestors, right back
to the foundation of the Russian Empire a thousand years
ago. Thereafter I shall introduce him to some of the County
Families and invite him to make w-ith me a few country-
house visits.

In the old times, when Russia was merely a collection of
some seventy independent principalities, each reigning
prince was surrounded by a group of armed men, composed
partly of Boydrs, or large landed proprietors, and partly of
knights, or soldiers of fortune. These men, who formed
the Noblesse of the time, were to a certain extent under the
authority of the Prince, but they were by no means mere
obedient, silent executors of his will. The Boydrs might
refuse to take part in his military expeditions, and the "free
lances " might leave his service and seek employment else-
where. If he wished to go to war without their consent,
they could say to him, as they did on one occasion, "You
have planned this yourself, Prince, so we will not go with
you, for we knew nothing of it." Nor was this resistance

* I use here a foreign, in preference to an English, term, because the word
" Nobility " would convey a false impression. Etymologically the Russian
word Dvoryanin means a Courtier (from Dvor = court) ; but this term is
equally objectionable, because the great majority of the Dvorydnstvo have
nothing to do with the Court.

305

3o6 RUSSIA

to the princely will always merely passive. Once, in the
principality of Galitch, the armed men seized their prince,
killed his favourites, burned his mistress, and made him
swear that he would in future live with his lawful wife. To
his successor, who had married the wife of a priest, they
spoke thus: "We have not risen against you, Prince, but
we will not do reverence to a priest's wife : we will put her
to death, and then you may marry whom you please." Even
the energetic Bogolubski, one of the most remarkable of the
old princes, did not succeed in having his own way. When
he attempted to force the Boydrs he met with stubborn oppo-
sition, and w^as finally assassinated. From these incidents,
which might be indefinitely multiplied from the old
chronicles, we see that in the early period of Russian history
the Boydrs and knights were a body of free men, possessing
a considerable amount of political power.

Under the Mongol domination this political equilibrium
was destroyed. When the country had been conquered,
the princes became servile vassals of the Khan, and arbitrary
rulers towards their own subjects. The political significance
of the nobles was thereby greatly diminished. It was not,
however, by any means annihilated. Though the prince no
longer depended entirely on their support, he had an interest
in retaining their services, to protect his territory in case
of sudden attack, or to increase his possessions at the
expense of his neighbours when a convenient opportunity
presented itself. Theoretically, such conquests were im-
possible, for all removing of the ancient landmarks depended
on the decision of the Khan ; but in reality the Khan gave
little attention to the affairs of his vassals, so long as the
tribute was regularly paid ; and much took place in Russia
without his permission. We find, therefore, in some of the
principalities the old relations still subsisting under Mongol
rule. The famous Dmitri of the Don, for instance, when
on his death-bed, speaks thus to his Boydrs: "You know
my habits and my character; I was born among you, grew
up among you, governed with you — fighting by your side,
showing you honour and love, and placing you over towns
and districts. I loved your children, and did evil to no one.
I rejoiced with you in your joy, mourned with you in your

THE TSARDOM OF MUSCOVY 307

grief, and called you the princes of my land." Then, turn-
ing to his children, he adds, as a parting advice: "Love
your Boydrs, my children ; show them the honour which
their services merit, and undertake nothing without their
consent."

When the Grand Princes of Moscow brought the other
principalities under their power, and formed them into the
Tsardom of Muscovy, the nobles descended another step
in the political scale. So long as there were many princi-
palities they could quit the service of a prince as soon as
he gave them reason to be discontented, knowing that they
would be well received by one of his rivals ; but now they
had no longer any choice. The only rival of Moscow was
Lithuania, and precautions were taken to prevent the dis-
contented from crossing the Lithuanian frontier. The nobles
were no longer voluntary adherents of a prince, but had
become subjects of a Tsar; and the Tsars were not as the
old princes had been. By a violent legal fiction they con-
ceived themselves to be the successors of the Byzantine
Emperors, and created a new court ceremonial, borrowed
partly from Constantinople and partly from the Mongol
Horde. They no longer associated familiarly with the
Boydrs, and no longer asked their advice, but treated them
rather as menials. When the nobles entered their august
master's presence they prostrated themselves in Oriental
fashion — occasionally as many as thirty times — and when
they incurred his displeasure they were liable to be summarily
flogged or executed, according to the Tsar's good pleasure.
In succeeding to the power of the Khans, the Tsars had
adopted, we see, a good deal of the Mongol system of
government.

It may seem strange that a class of men, which had
formerly shown a proud spirit of independence, should have
submitted quietly to such humiliation and oppression without
making a serious effort to curb the new power, which had
no longer a Mongol Horde at its back to quell opposition.
But we must remember that the nobles, as well as the princes,
had passed in the meantime through the school of the Mongol
domination. In the course of two centuries they had
gradually become accustomed to despotic rule in the Oriental

3o8 RUSSIA

sense. If they felt their position humiliating and irksome,
they must have felt, too, how difficult it was to better it.
Their only resource lay in combining against the common
oppressor; and we have only to glance at the motley, dis-
organised group, as they cluster round the Tsar, to perceive
that combination was extremely difficult. We can dis-
tinguish there the mediatised princes, still harbouring
designs for the recovery of their independence ; the Moscow
Boydrs, jealous of their family honour and proud of Mus-
covite supremacy ; Tartar Mursi, who have submitted to be
baptised and have received land like the other nobles; the
Novgorodian magnate, who cannot forget the ancient glory
of his native city ; Lithuanian nobles, who find it more
profitable to serve the Tsar than their own sovereign ; petty
chiefs who have fled from the oppression of the Teutonic
order ; and soldiers of fortune from every part of Russia.
Strong, permanent political factors are not easily formed out
of such heterogeneous material.

At the end of the sixteenth century the old dynasty
became extinct, and after a short period of political anarchy,
commonly called "the troublous times" (smutnoe vremya),
the Romanov family were raised to the throne by the will
of the people, or at least by those who were assumed to be
its representatives. By this change the Noblesse acquired
a somewhat better position. They were no longer exposed
to capricious tyranny and barbarous cruelty, such as they
had experienced at the hands of Ivan the Terrible, but they
did not, as a class, gain any political influence. There were
still rival families and rival factions, but there were no
political parties in the proper sense of the term, and the
highest aim of families and factions was to gain the favour
of the Tsar.

The frequent quarrels about precedence which took place
among the rival families at this period form one of the most
curious episodes of Russian history. The old patriarchal
conception of the family as a unit one and indivisible was
still so strong among these men that the elevation or degra-
dation of one member of a family was considered to affect
deeply the honour of all the other members. Each noble
family had its rank in a recognised scale of dignity, accord-

REFORM BY PETER THE GREAT 309

ing to the rank which it held, or had previously held, in the
Tsar's service ; and a whole family would have considered
itself dishonoured if one of its members accepted a post
lower than that to which he was entitled. Whenever a
vacant place in the service was filled up, the subordinates
of the successful candidate examined the official records and
the genealogical trees of their families, in order to discover
whether some ancestor of their new superior had not served
under one of their own ancestors. If the subordinate found
such a case, he complained to the Tsar that it was not
becoming for him to serve under a man who had less family
honour than himself.

Unfounded complaints of this kind often entailed im-
prisonment or corporal punishment, but in spite of this the
quarrels for precedence were very frequent. At the com-
mencement of a campaign many such disputes were sure to
arise, and the Tsar's decision was not always accepted by
the party who considered himself aggrieved. I have met
at least with one example of a great dignitary voluntarily
mutilating his hand in order to escape the necessity of
serving under a man whom he considered his inferior in
family dignity. Even at the Tsar's table these rivalries
sometimes produced unseemly incidents, for it was almost
impossible to arrange the places so as to satisfy all the guests.
In one recorded instance a noble who received a place lower
than that to which he considered himself entitled openly
declared to the Tsar that he would rather be condemned to
death than submit to such an indignity. In another instance
of a similar kind the refractory guest was put on his chair
by force, but saved his family honour by slipping under
the table !

The next transformation of the Noblesse was effected
by Peter the Great. Peter was by nature and position an
autocrat, and could brook no opposition. Having set before
himself a great aim, he sought everywhere obedient, intelli-
gent, energetic instruments to carry out his designs. He
himself served the State zealously— as a common artisan,
when he considered it necessary — and he insisted on all his
subjects doing likewise, under pain of merciless punishment.
To noble birth and long pedigrees he habitually showed a

310 RUSSIA

most democratic, or rather autocratic, indifference. Intent
on obtaining the service of living men, he paid no attention
to the claims of dead ancestors, and gave to his serv^ants the
pay and honour which their services merited, irrespectively
of birth or social position. Hence many of his chief
coadjutors had no connection with the old Russian families.
Count Yaguzhinski, who long held one of the most import-
ant posts in the State, was the son of a poor sacristan ; Count
Devier was a Portuguese by birth, and had been a cabin-boy ;
Baron Shafirov was a Jew; Hannibal, who died with the rank
of Commander-in-Chief, was a negro who had been bought
in Constantinople; and his Serene Highness Prince Menshi-
kov had begun life, it was said, as a baker's apprentice !
^For the future, noble birth was to count for nothing. The
service of the State was thrown open to men of all
ranks, and personal merit was to be the only claim to
promotion.

This must have seemed to the Conservatives of the time
a most revolutionary and reprehensible proceeding, but it
did not satisfy the reforming tendencies of the great autocrat.
He went a step farther, and entirely changed the legal status
of the Noblesse. Down to his time the nobles were free to
serve or not as they chose, and those who chose to serve
enjoyed land on what we should call a feudal tenure. Some
sers^ed permanently in the military or civil administration,
but by far the greater number lived on their estates, and
entered the active service merely when the militia was called
out in view of war. This system was completely changed
when Peter created a large standing army and a great
centralised bureaucracy. By one of those "fell swoops"
which periodically occur in Russian history, he changed
the feudal into freehold tenures, and laid down the principle
that all nobles, whatever their landed possessions might be,
should serve the State in the army, the fleet, or the civil
administration, from boyhood to old age. In accordance
with this principle, any noble who refused to serve was not
only deprived of his estate, as in the old times, but was
declared to be a traitor and might be condemned to capital
punishment.

The nobles were thus transformed into servants of the

A SPARTAN REGIME 311

State, and the State in the time of Peter was a hard task-
master. They complained bitterly, and with reason, tliat
they had been deprived of their ancient rights, and were
compelled to accept quietly and uncomplainingly whatever
burdens their master chose to place upon them. "Though
our country," they said, "is in no danger of invasion, no
sooner is peace concluded than plans are laid for a new
war, which has generally no other foundation than the
ambition of the Sovereign, or perhaps merely the ambition
of one of his Ministers. To please him our peasants are
utterly exhausted, and we ourselves are forced to leave our
homes and families, not as formerly for a single campaign,
but for long years. We are compelled to contract debts
and to entrust our estates to thieving overseers, who com-
monly reduce them to such a condition that when we are
allowed to retire from the service, in consequence of old
age or illness, we cannot to the end of our lives retrieve
our prosperity. In a word, we are so exhausted and ruined
by the keeping up of a standing army, and by the conse-
quences flowing therefrom, that the most cruel enemy,
though he should devastate the whole Empire, could not
cause us one-half of the injury." *

This Spartan regime, which ruthlessly sacrificed private
interests to considerations of State policy, could not long be
maintained in its pristine severity. It undermined its own
foundations by demanding too much. Draconian laws
threatening confiscation and capital punishment were of
little avail. Nobles became monks, inscribed themselves as
merchants, or engaged themselves as domestic servants, in
order to escape their obligations. "Some," says a contem-
porary, "grow old in disobedience and have never once
appeared in active service. . . . There is, for instance,
Theodore Mokeyev. ... In spite of the strict orders
sent regarding him no one could ever catch him. Some
of those sent to take him he belaboured with blows, and
when he could not beat the messengers, he pretended to be
dangerously ill, or feigned idiocy, and, running into the
pond, stood in the water up to his neck; but as soon as the

* These complaints have been preserved by Vockerodt, a Prussian diplo-
matic agent of the time.

312 RUSSIA

messengers were out of sight he returned home and roared
Hke a Hon."*

After Peter's death the system was gradually relaxed, but
the Noblesse could not be satisfied by partial concessions.
Russia had in the meantime moved, as it were, out of Asia
into Europe, and had become one of the great European
Powers. The upper classes had been gradually learning
something of the fashions, the literature, the institutions,
and the moral conceptions of Western Europe, and the
nobles naturally compared the class to which they belonged
with the aristocracies of Germany and France. For those
who were influenced by the new foreign ideas the com-
parison was humiliating. In the West the Noblesse was a
free and privileged class, proud of its liberty, its rights, and
its culture; whereas in Russia the nobles were servants of
the State, without privileges, without dignity, subject to
corporal punishment, and burdened with onerous duties
from which there was no escape. Thus arose in that section
of the Noblesse which had some acquaintance with Western
civilisation a feeling of discontent, and a desire to gain a
social position similar to that of the nobles in France and
Germany. These aspirations were in part realised by Peter
III., who, in 1762, abolished the principle of obligatory
service. His consort, Catherine II., went much farther in
the same direction, and inaugurated a new epoch in the
history of the Dvorydnstvo, a period in which its duties and
obligations fell into the background, and its rights and
privileges came to the front.

Catherine had good reason to favour the Noblesse. As
a foreigner and a usurper, raised to the throne by a Court
conspiracy, she could not awaken in the masses that semi-
religious veneration which the legitimate Tsars have always
enjoyed, and consequently she had to seek support in the
upper classes, who were less rigid and uncompromising in
their conceptions of legitimacy. She confirmed, therefore,
the ukaz which abolished obligatory service of the nobles,
and sought to gain their voluntary service by honours and
rewards. In her manifestoes she always spoke of them in
the most flattering terms, and tried to convince them that
* Pos6shkov, " O sktidosti i bogdtstvfi."

INFLUENCE OF CATHERINE II. 313

the welfare of the country depended on their loyalty and
devotion. Though she had no intention of ceding any of
her political power, she formed the nobles of each province
into a corporation, wath periodical assemblies, which were
supposed to resemble the French Provincial Parliaments,
and entrusted to each of these corporations a large part of
the local administration. By these and similar means, aided
by her masculine energy and feminine tact, she made herself
very popular, and completely changed the old conceptions
about the public service. Formerly service had been looked
on as a burden ; now it came to be looked on as a privilege.
Thousands w-ho had retired to their estates after the publica-
tion of the liberation edict now flocked back and sought
appointments, and this tendency was greatly increased by
the brilliant campaigns against the Turks, which excited
the patriotic feelings and gave plentiful opportunities of
promotion. "Not only landed proprietors," it is said in a
comedy of the time,* "but all men, even shopkeepers and
cobblers, aim at becoming officers, and the man who has
passed his whole life without official rank seems to be not
a human being."

And Catherine did more than this. She shared the idea
— generally accepted throughout Europe since the brilliant
reign of Louis XIV. — that a refined, pomp-loving, pleasure-
seeking Court Noblesse w^as not only the best buhvark of
Monarchy, but also a necessary ornament of every highly
civilised State; and as she ardently desired that her country
should have the reputation of being highly civilised, she
strove to create this national ornament. The love of French
civilisation, which already existed among the upper classes
of her subjects, here came to her aid, and her efforts in this
direction were singularly successful. The Court of St.
Petersburg became almost as brilliant, as galant, and as
frivolous as the Court of Versailles. All who aimed at
high honours adopted French fashions, spoke the French
language, and affected an unqualified admiration for French
classical literature. The courtiers talked of the point
d'honneur, discussed the question as to what was consistent
with the dignity of a noble, sought to display "that

* " Khvastun," by Knyazhnin.

314 RUSSIA

chivalrous spirit which constitutes the pride and ornament
of France," and looked back with horror on the humiliating
position of their fathers and grandfathers. "Peter the
Great," writes one of them, "beat all who surrounded him,
without distinction of family or rank; but now, many of
us would certainly prefer capital punishment to being beaten
or flogged, even though the castigation were applied by the
sacred hands of the Lord's Anointed."

The tone which reigned in the Court circle of St. Peters-
burg spread gradually towards the lower ranks of the
Dvorydnstvo, and it seemed to superficial observers that a
very fair imitation of the French Noblesse had been pro-
duced; but in reality the copy was very unlike the model.
The Russian Dvoryanin easily learned the language and
assumed the manners of the French gentilhomme, and
succeeded in changing his physical and intellectual exterior;
but all those deeper and more delicate parts of human nature
which are formed by the accumulated experience of past
generations could not be so easily and rapidly changed.
The French geniUhomme of the eighteenth century was the
direct descendant of the feudal baron, with the fundamental
conceptions of his ancestors deeply embedded in his nature.
He had not, indeed, the old haughty bearing towards the
Sovereign, and his language was tinged with the fashionable
democratic philosophy of the time ; but he possessed a large
intellectual and moral inheritance that had come down to
him directly from the palmy days of feudalism — an inherit-
ance which even the Great Revolution, which was then
preparing, could not annihilate. The Russian noble, on
the contrary, had received from his ancestors entirely different
traditions. His father and grandfather had been conscious
of the burdens rather than the privileges of the class to
which they belonged. They had considered it no disgrace
to receive corporal punishment, and had been jealous of
their honour, not as gentlemen or descendants of Boydrs,
but as Brigadiers, College Assessors, or Privy Counsellors.
Their dignity had rested not on the grace of God, but on
the will of the Tsar. Under these circumstances even the
proudest magnate of Catherine's Court, though he might
speak French as fluently as his mother tongue, could not

FEAR OF THE AUTOCRAT 315

be very deeply penetrated with the conception of noble blood,
the sacred character of nobility, and the numerous feudal
ideas interwoven with these conceptions. And in adopting
the outward forms of a foreign culture the nobles did not,
it seems, gain much in true dignity. "The old pride of the
nobles has fallen ! " exclaims one who had more genuine
aristocratic feeling than his fellows.* "There are no longer
any honourable families, but merely official rank and
personal merits. All seek official rank, and as all cannot
render direct services, distinctions are sought by every
possible means — by flattering the Monarch and toadying
the important personages." There was considerable truth
in this complaint, but the voice of this solitary aristocrat
was as of one crying in the wilderness. The whole of the
educated classes — men of old family and parvenus alike —
were, with few exceptions, too much engrossed with place-
hunting to attend to such sentimental wailing.

If the Russian Noblesse was thus in its new form but
a very imperfect imitation of its French model, it was still
more unlike the English aristocracy. Notwithstanding the
liberal phrases in which Catherine habitually indulged, she
never had the least intention of ceding one jot or tittle of
her autocratic power, and the Noblesse as a class never
obtained even a shadow of political influence. There was
no real independence under the new airs of dignity and
hauteur. In all their acts and openly expressed opinions
the courtiers were guided by the real or supposed wishes
of the Sovereign, and much of their political sagacity was
employed in endeavouring to discover what would please
her. "People never talk politics in the salons," says a con-
temporary witness, f "not even to praise the Government.
Fear has produced habits of prudence, and the Frondeurs
of the Capital express their opinions only in the confidence
of intimate friendship or in a relationship still more con-
fidential. Those who cannot bear this constraint retire to
Moscow, which cannot be called the centre of opposition,
for there is no such thing as opposition in a country with
an autocratic Government, but which is the capital of the

* Prince Shtcherbatov.

t S6gur, long Ambassador of France at the Court of Catherine.

3i6 RUSSIA

discontented." And even there the discontent did not venture
to show itself in the Imperial presence. "In Moscow," says
another witness, accustomed to the obsequiousness of Ver-
sailles, "you might believe yourself to be among republicans
who have just thrown off the yoke of a tyrant, but as soon
as the Court arrives you see nothing but abject slaves."*

Though thus excluded from direct influence in political
affairs, the Noblesse might still have acquired a certain
political significance in the State, by means of the Provincial
Assemblies, and by the part they took in local administra-
tion ; but in reality they had neither the requisite political
experience nor the requisite patience, nor even the desire to
pursue such a policy. The majority of the proprietors pre-
ferred the chances of promotion in the Imperial service to
the tranquil life of a country gentleman ; and those who
resided permanently on their estates showed indifference or
positive antipathy to everything connected with the local
administration. What was officially described as "a privilege
conferred on the nobles for their fidelity, and for the generous
sacrifice of their lives in their country's cause," was regarded
by those w-ho enjoyed it as a new kind of obligatory service
■ — an obligation to supply judges and officers of rural police.

If we require any additional proof that the nobles amidst
all these changes were still as dependent as ever on the
arbitrary will or caprice of the Monarch, we have only to
glance at their position in the time of Paul I., the capricious,
eccentric, violent son and successor of Catherine. The
autobiographical memoirs of the time depict in vivid colours
the humiliating position of even the leading men in the State,
in constant fear of exciting by act, word, or look the wrath
of the Sovereign. As we read these contemporary records
we seem to have before us a picture of ancient Rome under
the most despotic and capricious of her Emperors. Irritated
and embittered before his accession to the throne by the
haughty demeanour of his mother's favourites, Paul lost no
opportunity of showing his contempt for aristocratic preten-
sions, and of humiliating those who were supposed to
harbour them. "Apprenez, monsieur," he said angrily on
one occasion to Dumouriez, who had accidentally referred
* Sabathier de Cabres, " Catherine II. et la Cour de Russie en 1772."

FRENCH CULTURE 317

to one of the "considerable" personages of the Court,
"Apprenez qu'il n'y a de considerable ici que la personne
a laquelle je parle et pendant le temps que je lui parle ! " *

From the time of Catherine down to the succession of
Alexander II. in 1855 no important change was made in
the legal status of the Noblesse, but a gradual change took
place in its social character by the continual influx of
Western ideas and Western culture. The exclusively French
culture in vogue at the Court of Catherine assumed a more
cosmopolitan colouring, and permeated downwards till all
who had any pretensions to being civilises spoke French
with tolerable fluency and possessed at least a superficial
acquaintance with the literature of Western Europe. What
chiefly distinguished them in the eye of the law from the
other classes was the privilege of possessing "inhabited
estates " — that is to say, estates with serfs. By the emanci-
pation of the serfs in 1861 this valuable privilege was
abolished, and about one-half of their landed property passed
into the hands of the peasantry. By the administrative
reforms which have since taken place, any little signifi-
cance which the provincial corporations may have possessed
has been annihilated. Thus at the present day the nobles
are on a level with the other classes with regard to the right
of possessing landed property and the administration of
local afi"airs.

From this rapid sketch the reader will easily perceive
that the Russian Noblesse has had a peculiar historical
development. In Germany, France, and England the nobles
were early formed into a homogeneous organised body by
the political conditions in which they were placed. They
had to repel the encroaching tendencies of the Monarchy on
the one hand, and of the bourgeoisie on the other; and in
this long struggle with powerful rivals they instinctively
held together and developed a vigorous esprit de corps. New
members penetrated into their ranks, but these intruders were
so few in number that they were rapidly assimilated without
modifying the general character or recognised ideals of the
class, and without rudely disturbing the fiction of purity of

* This saying is often falsely attributed to Nicholas I. The anecdote is
related by S6gur.

3i8 RUSSIA

blood. The class thus assumed more and more the nature
of a caste with a peculiar intellectual and moral culture, and
stoutly defended its position and privileges till the ever-
increasing power of the middle classes undermined its
influence. Its fate in various countries has been different.
In Germany it clung to its feudal traditions, and still pre-
serves its social exclusiveness. In France it was deprived of
its political influence by the Monarchy and crushed by the
Revolution. In England it moderated its pretensions, allied
itself with the middle classes, created under the disguise of
constitutional monarchy an aristocratic republic, and con-
ceded inch by inch, as necessity demanded, a share of its
political influence to the ally that had helped it to curb the
Royal power. Thus the German baron, the French gentil-
homme, and the English nobleman represent three distinct,
well-marked types; but amidst all their diversities they have
much in common. They have all preserved to a greater or
less extent a haughty consciousness of innate inextinguish-
able superiority over the lower orders, together with a more
or less carefully disguised dislike for the class which has
been, and still is, an aggressive rival.

The Russian Noblesse has not these characteristics. It
was formed out of more heterogeneous materials, and these
materials did not spontaneously combine to form an organic
whole but were crushed into a conglomerate mass by the
weight of the autocratic power. It never became a semi-
independent factor in the State. What rights and privileges
it possesses it received from the Monarchy, and consequently
it has no deep-rooted jealousy or hatred of the Imperial pre-
rogative. On the other hand, it has never had to struggle
with the other social classes, and therefore it harbours
towards them no feelings of rivalry or hostility. If we hear
a Russian noble speak with indignation of autocracy or with
acrimony of the bourgeoisie, we may be sure that these feel-
ings have their source, not in traditional conceptions, but
in principles learned from the modern schools of social and
political philosophy. The class to which he belongs has
undergone so many transformations that it has no hoary
traditions or deep-rooted prejudices, and always willingly
adapts itself to existing conditions. Indeed, it may be said

NO ARISTOCRACY IN RUSSIA 319

in general that it looks more to the future than the past, and
is ever ready to accept any new ideas that wear the badge
of progress. Its freedom from traditions and prejudices
makes it singularly susceptible of generous enthusiasm and
capable of vigorous spasmodic action, but calm moral
courage and tenacity of purpose are not among its prominent
attributes. In a word, we find in it neither the peculiar
virtues nor the peculiar vices which are engendered and
fostered by an atmosphere of political liberty.

However we may explain the fact, there is no doubt that
the Russian Noblesse has little or nothing of what we call
aristocratic feeling — little or nothing of that haughty,
domineering, exclusive spirit which we are accustomed to
associate with the word Aristocracy. We find plenty of
Russians who are proud of their wealth, of their culture,
or of their official position, but we rarely find a Russian
who is proud of his birth or imagines that the fact of his
having a long pedigree gives him any right to political
privileges or social consideration. Hence there is a certain
amount of truth in the oft-repeated saying that there is in
reality no aristocracy in Russia.

Certainly the Noblesse as a w^hole cannot be called an
aristocracy. If the term is to be used at all, it must be
applied to a group of families which cluster around the Court
and form the highest ranks of the Noblesse. This social
aristocracy contains many old families, but its real basis is
official rank and general culture rather than pedigree or
blood. The feudal conceptions of noble birth, good family,
and the like have been adopted by some of its members,
but do not form one of its conspicuous features. Though
habitually practising a certain exclusiveness, it has none of
those characteristics of a caste which we find in the German
Adel, and is utterly unable to understand such institutions
as TafcJfdhigkeit, by which a man who has not a pedigree
of a certain length is considered unworthy to sit down at a
royal table. It takes rather the English aristocracy as its
model, and harbours the secret hope of one day obtaining
a social and political position similar to that of the nobility
and gentrv of England. Though it has no peculiar legal
privileges, its actual position in the Administration and at

320 RUSSIA

Court gives its members great facilities for advancement in
tlie public service. On the other hand, its semi-bureaucratic
character, together with the law and custom of dividing
landed property among the children at the death of their
parents, deprives it of stability. New men force their way
into it by official distinction, whilst many of the old families
are compelled by poverty to retire from its ranks. The son
of a small proprietor, or even of a parish priest, may rise to
the highest offices of State, whilst the descendants of the
half-mythical Rurik may descend to the position of peasants.
It is said that not very long ago a certain Prince Krapotkin
gained his living as a cabman in St. Petersburg !

It is evident, then, that this social aristocracy must not
be confounded with the titled families. Titles do not possess
the same value in Russia as in Western Europe. They are
very common — because the titled families are numerous, and
all the children bear their father's title, even while he is still
alive — and they are by no means always associated with
official rank, wealth, social position, or distinction of any
kind. There are hundreds of princes and princesses who
have not the right to appear at Court, and who would not
be admitted into what is called in St. Petersburg " la
societe " — or, indeed, into refined society in any country.

The only genuine Russian title is Knyaz, commonly
translated "Prince." It is borne by the descendants of
Rurik, of the Lithuanian Prince Ghedimin, and of the Tartar
Khans and Murzi officially recognised by the Tsars. Besides
these, there are fourteen families who have adopted it by
Imperial command during the last two centuries. The titles
of count and baron are modern importations, beginning
with the time of Peter the Great. From Peter and his
successors about seventy families have received the title of
count and ten that of baron. The latter are all, with two
exceptions, of foreign extraction, and are mostly descended
from Court bankers.*

There is a very common idea that Russian nobles are as
a rule enormously rich. This is a mistake. The majority
of them are poor. At the time of the Emancipation, in 1861,

* Besides these, there are of course the German counts and barons of the
Baltic Provinces, who are Russian subjects.

FUTURE OF THE NOBLESSE 321

there were 100,247 landed proprietors, and of these more
than 41,000 were possessors of fewer than twenty-one male
serfs— that is to say, were in a condition of poverty. A
proprietor who was owner of 500 serfs was not considered
as by any means very rich, and yet there were only 3,803
proprietors belonging to that category. There were a few,
indeed, whose possessions were enormous. Count Shereme-
tiev, for instance, possessed more than 150,000 male serfs,
or in other words more than 300,000 souls; and forty years
ago Count Orlov-Davydov owned considerably more than
half a million of acres. The Demidov family derived colossal
revenues from their mines, and the Strogonovs possessed
estates which, if put together, would be sufficient in extent
to form a small independent State in Western Europe. The
very rich families, however, are not numerous, and a large
proportion of them have become impoverished during the
last half-century. The lavish expenditure in which Russian
nobles used to indulge indicated too frequently not large
fortune, but simply foolish ostentattbn and reckless im-
providence.

Perhaps, after having spoken so much about the past
history of the Noblesse, I ought to endeavour to cast its
horoscope, or at least to say something of its probable future.
Though predictions are always hazardous, it is sometimes
possible, by tracing the great lines of history in the past,
to follow them for a little distance into the future. If it be
allowable to apply this method of prediction in the present
matter, I should say that the Russian Dvorydjistvo will
assimilate with the other classes, rather than form itself into
an exclusive corporation. Hereditary aristocracies may be
preserved — or at least their decomposition may be retarded
— where they happen to exist, but it seems that they can
no longer be created. In Western Europe there is a large
amount of aristocratic sentiment, both in the nobles and in
the people; but it exists in spite of, rather than in conse-
quence of, actual social conditions. It is not a product of
modern society, but an heirloom that has come down to us
from feudal times, when power, wealth, and culture were
in the hands of a privileged few. If there ever was in Russia
a period corresponding to the feudal times in Western

322 RUSSIA

Europe, it has long since been forgotten. There is very
little aristocratic sentiment either in the people or in the
nobles, and it is difficult to imagine any source from which
it could now be derived. More than this, the nobles do
not desire to make such an acquisition. In so far as they
have any political aspirations, they aim, with very few
exceptions, at securing the political liberty of the people as
a whole, and not at acquiring exclusive rights and privileges
for their own class.

In that section which I have called a social aristocracy
there are a few individuals who desire to gain exclusive
political influence for the class to which they belong, but
there is very little chance of their succeeding. If their desires
were ever by chance realised, we should probably have a
repetition of the scene which occurred in 1730. When in
that year some of the great families raised the Duchess of
Courland to the throne on condition of her ceding part of
her power to a Supreme Council, the lower ranks of the
Noblesse compelled her to tear up the Constitution which she
had signed ! Those who dislike the Autocratic Power dislike
the idea of an aristocratic oligarchy infinitely more. Nobles
and people alike seem to hold instinctively the creed of the
French philosopher, who thought it better to be governed
by a lion of good family than by a hundred rats of his own
species.

Of the present condition of the Noblesse I shall again
have occasion to speak when I come to consider the con-
sequences of the Emancipation.

CHAPTER XXI

LANDED PROPRIETORS OF THE OLD SCHOOL

Of all the foreign countries in which I have travelled,
Russia certainly bears off the palm in the matter of hospi-
tality. Every spring I found myself in possession of a
large number of invitations from landed proprietors in
different parts of the country — far more than I could possibly
accept — and a great part of the summer was generally spent
in wandering about from one country house to another. I
have no intention of asking the reader to accompany me
in all these expeditions— for, though pleasant in reality, they
might be tedious in description— but I wish to introduce
him to some typical examples of the landed proprietors.
Among them are to be found nearly all ranks and conditions
of men, from the rich magnate, surrounded with the refined
luxury of West-European civilisation, to the poor, ill-clad,
ignorant owner of a few acres which barely supply him with
the necessaries of life. Let us take, first of all, a few
specimens from the middle ranks.

In one of the central provinces, near the bank of a
sluggish, meandering stream, stands an irregular group of
wooden constructions — old, unpainted, blackened by time,
and surmounted by high, sloping roofs of moss-covered
planks. The principal building is a long, one-storied
dwelling-house, constructed at right angles to the road. At
the front of the house is a spacious, ill-kept yard, and at the
back an equally spacious shady garden, in which Art carries
on a feeble conflict with encroaching Nature. At the other
side of the yard, and facing the front door — or, rather, the
front doors, for there are two — stand the stables, hay-shed,
and granary, and near to that end of the house which is
farthest from the road are two smaller houses, one of which
is the kitchen and the other the Lyiidshdya, or servants'
apartments. Beyond these we can perceive, through a single

323

324 RUSSIA

row of lime-trees, another group of time-blackened wooden
constructions in a still more dilapidated condition. That is
the farmyard.

There is certainly not much symmetry in the disposition
of these buildings, but there is nevertheless a certain order
and meaning in the apparent chaos. All the buildings
which do not require stoves are built at a considerable
distance from the dwelling-house and kitchen, which are
more liable to take fire ; and the kitchen stands by itself,
because the odour of cookery, in which oil is copiously used,
is by no means agreeable, even for those whose olfactory
nerves are not very sensitive. The plan of the house is
likewise not without a certain meaning. The rigorous
separation of the sexes, which formed a characteristic trait
of old Russian society, has long since disappeared, but its
influence may still be traced in houses built on the old model.
The house in question is one of these, and consequently it
is composed of three sections — at the one end the male
apartments, at the other the female apartments, and in the
middle the neutral territory, comprising the dining-room
and the salon. This arrangement has its conveniences, and
explains the fact that the house has two front doors. At
the back is a third door, which opens from the neutral
territory into a spacious veranda overlooking the garden.

Here lives, and has lived for many years, Ivan Ivanovitch

K , a gentleman of the old school, and a very worthy

man of his kind. If we look at him as he sits in his comfort-
able arm-chair, with his capacious dressing-gown hanging
loosely about him, we shall be able to read at a glance some-
thing of his character. Nature endowed him with large
bones and broad shoulders, and evidently intended him to
be a man of great muscular power, but he has contrived
to frustrate this benevolent intention, and has now more fat
than muscle. His close-cropped head is round as a bullet,
and his features are massive and heavy, but the heaviness
is relieved by an expression of calm contentment and im-
perturbable good-nature, which occasionally blossoms into
a broad grin. His face is one of those on which no amount
of histrionic talent could produce a look of care and anxiety ;
and for this it is not to blame, for such an expression has

A DILEMMA 325

never been demanded of it. Like other mortals he some-
times experiences Httle annoyances, and on such occasions
his small grey eyes sparkle and his face becomes suffused
with a crimson glow that suggests apoplexy; but ill-fortune
has never been able to get sufficiently firm hold of him to
make him understand what such words as care and anxiety
mean. Of struggle, disappointment, hope, and all the other
feelings which give to human life a dramatic interest, he
knows little by hearsay and nothing by experience. He has,
in fact, always lived outside of that struggle for existence
which modern philosophers declare to be the law of Nature.

Somewhere about seventy years ago Ivan Ivan'itch was
born in the house where he still lives. His first lessons he
received from the parish priest, and afterwards he was taught
by a deacon's son who had studied in the ecclesiastical
seminary to so little purpose that he was unable to pass the
final examination. By both of these teachers he w^as treated
with extreme leniency, and was allowed to learn as little as
he chose. His father wished him to study hard, but his
mother was afraid that study might injure his health, and
accordingly gave him several holidays every week. Under
these circumstances his progress was naturally not very
rapid, and he was still very slightly acquainted with the
elementary rules of arithmetic when his father one day
declared that he was already eighteen years of age, and must
at once enter the service. But what kind of service? Ivan
had no natural inclination for any kind of activity. The
project of entering him as a Junker in a cavalry regiment,
the colonel of which was an old friend of the family, did
not at all please him. He had no love for military service,
and positively disliked the prospect of an examination.
Whilst seeming, therefore, to bow implicitly to the paternal
authority, he induced his mother to oppose the scheme.

The dilemma in which Ivan found himself was this : in
deference to his father he wished to be in the service and
to gain that official rank which every Russian noble desires
to possess, and at the same time, in deference to his mother
and his own tastes, he wished to remain at home and continue
his indolent mode of life. The "Marshal of Noblesse, who
happened to call one day, helped him out of the difTiculty

326 RUSSIA

by offering to inscribe him as secretary in the Dvorydnskaya
Opeka, a bureau which acts as curator for the estates of
minors. All the duties of this office could be fulfilled by
a paid secretary, and the nominal occupant would be
periodically promoted as if he were an active official. This
was precisely what Ivan required. He accepted eagerly the
proposal, and obtained, in the course of seven years, with-
out any effort on his part, the rank of "collegiate secretary,"
corresponding to the "capitaine-en-second " of the military
hierarchy. To mount higher he would have had to seek
some place where he could not have fulfilled his duty by
proxy, so he determined to rest on his laurels, and sent in
his resignation.

Immediately after the termination of his official life his
married life began. Before his resignation had been
accepted he suddenly found himself one morning on the high
road to matrimony. Here again there was no effort on his
part. The course of true love, which is said never to run
smooth for ordinary mortals, ran smooth for him. He never
had even the trouble of proposing. The whole affair was
arranged by his parents, who chose as bride for their son
the only daughter of their nearest neighbour. The young
lady was only about sixteen years of age, and was not
remarkable for beauty, talent, or any other peculiarity, but
she had one very important qualification — she was the
daughter of a man who had an estate contiguous to their
own, and who might give as a dowry a certain bit of land
which they had long desired to add to their own property.
The negotiations, being of a delicate nature, were entrusted
to an old lady who had a great reputation for diplomatic
skill in such matters, and she accomplished her mission with
such success that in the course of a few weeks the pre-
liminaries were arranged and the day fixed for the wedding.
Thus Ivan Ivan 'itch won his bride as easily as he had won
his tchin of "collegiate secretary."

Though the bridegroom had received rather than taken
to himself a wife, and did not imagine for a moment that
he was in love, he had no reason to regret the choice that
was made for him. Maria Petrovna was exactly suited by
character and education to be the wife of a man like Ivan

THE DAILY ROUND 327

Ivan'itch. She had grown up at home in the society of
nurses and maidservants, and had never learned anything
more than could be obtained from the parish priest and from
"Ma'mselle," a personage occupying a position midway
between a maidservant and a governess. The first events
of her life were the announcement that she was to be married
and the preparations for the wedding. She still remembers
the delight which the purchase of her trousseau afforded her,
and keeps in her memory a full catalogue of the articles
bought. The first years of her married life were not very
happy, for she was treated by her mother-in-law as a naughty
child who required to be frequently snubbed and lectured ;
but she bore the discipline with exemplary patience, and
in due time became her own mistress and autocratic ruler in
all domestic affairs. From that time she has lived an active,
uneventful life. Between her and her husband there is as
much mutual attachment as can reasonably be expected in
phlegmatic natures after nearly half a century of matrimony.
She has always devoted her energies to satisfying his simple
material wants — of intellectual wants he has none — and
securing his comfort in every possible way. Under this
fostering care he "effeminated himself" (obdbilsya), as he
is wont to say. His love of shooting died out, he cared less
and less to visit his neighbours, and each successive year
he spent more and more time in his arm-chair.

The daily life of this worthy couple is singularly regular
and monotonous, varying only with the changing seasons.
In summer Ivan Ivan'itch gets up about seven o'clock, and
puts on, with the assistance of his valet de chambre, a simple
costume, consisting chiefly of a faded, plentifully stained
dressing-gown. Having nothing particular to do, he sits
down at the open window and looks into the yard. As the
servants pass he stops and questions them, and then gives
them orders, or scolds them, as circumstances demand.
Towards nine o'clock tea is announced, and he goes into
the dining-room — a long, narrow apartment with bare
wooden floor and no furniture but a table and chairs, all
in a more or less rickety condition. Here he finds his wife
with the tea-urn before her. In a few minutes the grand-
children come in, kiss their grandpapa's hand, and take

328 RUSSIA

their places round the table. As this morning meal consists
merely of bread and tea, it does not last long ; and all disperse
to their several occupations. The head of the house begins
the labours of the day by resuming his seat at the open
window. When he has smoked some cigarettes and indulged
in a proportionate amount of silent contemplation, he goes
out with the intention of visiting the stables and farmyard,
but generally before he has crossed the court he finds the
heat unbearable, and returns to his former position by the
open window. Here he sits tranquilly till the sun has so
far moved round that the veranda at the back of the house
is completely in the shade, when he has his arm-chair
removed thither, and sits there till dinner-time.

Maria Petrovna spends her morning in a more active
way. As soon as the breakfast-table has been cleared, she
goes to the larder, takes stock of the provisions, arranges
the menu du jour, and gives to the cook the necessary
materials, with detailed instructions as to how they are to
be prepared. The rest of the morning she devotes to her
other household duties.

Towards one o'clock dinner is announced, and Ivan
Ivan'itch prepares his appetite by swallowing at a gulp a
wine-glassful of home-made bitters. Dinner is the great
event of the day. The food is abundant and of good quality,
but mushrooms, onions, and fat play a rather too important
part in the repast, and the whole is prepared with very little
attention to the recognised principles of culinary hygiene.
Many of the dishes, indeed, would make a British valetu-
dinarian stand aghast, but they seem to produce no bad
effect on those Russian organisms which have never been
weakened by town life, nervous excitement, or intellectual
exertion.

No sooner has the last dish been removed than a death-
like stillness falls upon the house : it is the time of the after-
dinner siesta. The young folks go into the garden, and
all the other members of the household give way to the
drowsiness naturally engendered by a heavy meal on a hot
summer day. Ivan Ivan'itch retires to his own room, from
which the flies have been carefully expelled. Maria Petrovna
dozes in an arm-chair in the sitting-room, with a pocket-

A DEPUTATION 329

handkerchief spread over her face. The servants snore in
the corridors, the garret, or the hay-shed; and even the old
watch-dog in the corner of the yard stretches himself out
at full length on the shady side of his kennel.

In about two hours the house gradually re-awakens.
Doors begin to creak ; the names of various servants are
bawled out in all tones, from bass to falsetto; and footsteps
are heard in the yard. Soon a manservant issues from the
kitchen bearing an enormous tea-urn, which puffs like a
little steam-engine. The family assemble for tea. In Russia,
as elsewhere, sleep after a heavy meal produces thirst, so
that the tea and other beverages are very acceptable. Then
some little delicacies are served — such as fruit and wild
berries, or cucumbers with honey, or something else of the
kind — and the family again disperses. Ivan Ivan'itch takes
a turn in the fields on his begovuiya droshki — an extremely
light vehicle composed of two pairs of wheels joined together
by a single board, on which the driver sits stride-legged;
and Maria Petrovna probably receives a visit from the
Popadya (the priest's wife), who is the chief gossipmonger
of the neighbourhood. There is not much scandal in the
district, but what little there is the Popadya carefully collects,
and distributes among her acquaintances with undiscrimin-
ating generosity.

In the evening it often happens that a little group of
peasants come into the court, and ask to see the "master."
The master goes to the door, and generally finds that they
have some favour to request. In reply to his question,
"Well, children, what do you want?" they tell their story
in a confused, rambling way, several of them speaking at
a time, and he has to question and cross-question them
before he comes to understand clearly what they desire. If
he tells them he cannot grant it, they probably do not accept
a first refusal, but endeavour by means of supplication to
make him reconsider his decision. Stepping forward a little,
and bowing low, one of the group begins in a half-respectful,
half-familiar, caressing tone : "Little Father, Ivan Ivan'itch,
be gracious ; vou are our father, and we are your children "
— and so on. Ivan Ivan'itch good-naturedly listens, and
again explains that he cannot grant what they ask; but they

L*

330 RUSSIA

still have hopes of gaining their point by entreaty, and
continue their supplications till at last his patience is
exhausted and he says to them in a paternal tone, "Now,
enough ! enough ! you are blockheads — blockheads all
round! There's no use talking; it can't be done." And
with these words he enters the house, so as to prevent all
further discussion.

A regular part of the evening's occupation is the inter-
view with the steward. The work that has just been done,
and the programme for the morrow, are always discussed
at great length ; and much time is spent in speculating as
to the weather during the next few days. On this latter
point the calendar is always carefully consulted, and great
confidence is placed in its predictions, though past experience
has often shown that they are not to be implicitly trusted.
The conversation drags on till supper is announced, and
immediately after that meal, which is an abridged repetition
of dinner, all retire for the night.

Thus pass the days and weeks and months in the house
of Ivan Ivan 'itch, and rarely is there any deviation from
the ordinary programme. The climate necessitates, of
course, some slight modifications. When it is cold, the
doors and windows have to be kept shut, and after heavy
rains those who do not like to wade in mud have to remain
in the house or garden. In the long winter evenings the
family assemble in the sitting-room, and all kill time as
they best can. Ivan Ivan'itch smokes and meditates, or
listens to the barrel-organ played by one of the children.
Maria Petrovna knits a stocking. The old aunt, who com-
monly spends the winter with them, plays patience, and
sometimes draws from the game conclusions as to the future.
Her favourite predictions are that a stranger will arrive, or
that a marriage will take place, and she can determine the
sex of the stranger and the colour of the bridegroom's hair;
but beyond this her art does not go, and she cannot satisfy
the young ladies' curiosity as to further details.

Books and newspapers are rarely seen in the sitting-room,
but for those who wish to read there is a bookcase full of
miscellaneous literature, which gives some idea of the literary
tastes of the family during several generations. The oldest

LITERARY TASTES 331

volumes were bought by Ivan Ivan'itch's grandfather — a
man who, according to the family traditions, enjoyed the
confidence of the great Catherine. Though wholly over-
looked by recent historians, he was evidently a man who
had some pretensions to culture. He had his portrait painted
by a foreign artist of considerable talent — it still hangs in
the sitting-room — and he bought several pieces of Sevres
ware, the last of which stands on a commode in the corner
and contrasts strangely with the rude home-made furniture
and squalid appearance of the apartment. Among the books
which bear his name are the tragedies of Sumar6kov, who
imagined himself to be "the Russian Voltaire " ; the amusing
comedies of Von-Wisin, some of which still keep the stage;
the loud-sounding odes of the courtly Derzhdvin; two or
three books containing the mystic wisdom of Freemasonry
as interpreted by Schwarz and Novikov ; Russian trans-
lations of Richardson's "Pamela," "Sir Charles Grandison,"
and "Clarissa Harlowe " ; Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise,"
in Russian garb ; and three or four volumes of Voltaire in
the original. Among the works collected at a somewhat
later period are translations of Ann Radcliffe, of Scott's
early novels, and of Ducray Dumenil, whose stories, "Lolotte
et Fanfan " and "Victor," once enjoyed a great reputation.
At this point the literary tastes of the family appear to have
died out, for the succeeding literature is represented ex-
clusively by Krylov's Fables, a farmer's manual, a hand-
book of family medicine, and a series of calendars. There
are, however, some signs of a revival, for on the lowest
shelf stand recent editions of Pushkin, Lermontov, and
G6gol, and a few works by living authors.

Sometimes the monotony of the winter is broken by
visiting neighbours and receiving visitors in return, or in
a more decided way by a visit of a few days to the capital
of the province. In the latter case Maria Petrovna spends
nearly all her time in shopping, and brings home a large
collection of miscellaneous articles. The inspection of these
by the assembled family forms an important domestic event,
which completely throws into the shade the occasional visits
of pedlars and colporteurs. Then there are the festivities
at Christmas and Easter, and occasionally little incidents

332 RUSSIA

of a less agreeable kind. It may be that there is a heavy
fall of snow, so that it is necessary to cut roads to the
kitchen and stables ; or wolves enter the courtyard at night
and have a fight with the watch-dogs ; or the news is brought
that a peasant who had been drinking in a neighbouring
village has been found frozen to death on the road.

Altogether the family live a very isolated life, but they
have one bond of connection with the great outer world.
Two of the sons are officers in the army, and both of them
write home occasionally to their mother and sisters. To
these two youths is devoted all the little stock of senti-
mentality which Maria Petrovna possesses. She can talk of
them by the hour to anyone who will listen to her, and has
related to the Popadyd a hundred times every trivial incident
of their lives. Though they have never given her much
cause for anxiety, and they are now men of middle age, she
lives in constant fear that some evil may befall them. What
she most fears is that they may be sent on a campaign or
may fall in love with actresses. War and actresses are, in
fact, the two bugbears of her existence, and whenever she
has a disquieting dream she asks the priest to offer up a
moleben for the safety of her absent ones. Sometimes she
ventures to express her anxiety to her husband, and recom-
mends him to write to them ; but he considers writing a letter
a very serious bit of work, and always replies evasively,
"Well, well, we must think about it."

During the Crimean War, Ivan Ivan'itch half awoke
from his habitual lethargy, and read occasionally the meagre
official reports published by the Government. He was a
little surprised that no great victories were reported, and
that the army did not at once advance on Constantinople.
As to causes he never speculated. Some of his neighbours
told him that the army was disorganised, and the whole
system of Nicholas had been proved to be utterly worthless.
That might all be very true, but he did not understand
military and political matters. No doubt it would all come
right in the end. All did come right, after a fashion, and
he again gave up reading newspapers; but ere long he was
startled by reports much more alarming than any rumours
of war. People began to talk about the peasant question,

AN EPOCH OF REFORMS 333

and to say openly that the serfs must soon be emancipated.
For once in his life Ivan Ivan'itch asked explanations. Find-
ing one of his neighbours, who had always been a respect-
able, sensible man, and a severe disciplinarian, talking in
this way, he took him aside and asked what it all meant.
The neighbour explained that the old order of things had
shown itself bankrupt and was doomed, that a new epoch
was opening, that everything was to be reformed, and that
the Emperor, in accordance with a secret clause of the Treaty
with the Allies, was about to grant a Constitution ! Ivan
Ivan'itch listened for a little in silence, and then, with a
gesture of impatience, interrupted the speaker: "Poino
duratchitsya ! " (Enough of fun and tomfoolery.) "Vassili
Petrovitch, tell me seriously what you mean."

When Vassili Petr6vitch vowed that he spoke in all
seriousness, his friend gazed at him with a look of intense
compassion, and remarked, as he turned away, "So you, too,
have gone out of your mind ! "

The utterances of Vassili Petr6vitch, which his lethargic,
sober-minded friend regarded as indicating temporary in-
sanity in the speaker, represented fairly the mental condition
of very many Russian nobles at that time, and were not
without a certain foundation. The idea about a secret clause
in the Treaty of Paris was purely imaginary, but it was quite
true that the country was entering on an epoch of great
reforms, among which the Emancipation question occupied
the chief place. Of this even the sceptical Ivan Ivan'itch
was soon convinced. Alexander II., the son and successor
of Nicholas, declared in a formal speech to the Noblesse of
the province of Moscow that the actual state of things could
not continue for ever, and called on the landed proprietors
to consider by what means the condition of their serfs might
be ameliorated. Provincial committees were accordingly
formed for the purpose of preparing definite projects, and
gradually it became apparent that the emancipation of the
serfs was really at hand.

Ivan Ivan'itch was alarmed at the prospect of losing his
authority over his serfs. Though he had never been a cruel
taskmaster, he had not spared the rod when he considered
it necessary, and he believed birch-twigs to be a necessary

334 RUSSIA

instrument in the Russian system of agriculture. For some
time he drew consolation from the thought that peasants
were not birds of the air, that they must under all circum-
stances require food and clothing, and that they would be
ready to serve him as agricultural labourers; but when he
learned that they were to receive a large part of the estate
for their own use, his hopes fell, and he greatly feared that
he would be inevitably ruined.

These dark forebodings were not by any means realised.
His serfs were emancipated and received about a half of
the estate, but in return for the land ceded they paid him
annually a considerable sum, and they were always ready to
cultivate his fields for a fair remuneration. The yearly outlay
was considerably greater, but the price of grain rose, and
this counterbalanced the additional yearly expenditure. The
administration of the estate became much less patriarchal ;
much that had been left to custom and tacit understanding
was regulated by express agreement on purely commercial
principles; a great deal more money was paid out and a
great deal more received ; there was much less authority in
the hands of the master, and his responsibilities were pro-
portionately diminished; but in spite of all these changes,
Ivan Ivan 'itch would have great difficulty in deciding
whether he is a richer or a poorer man. He has fewer horses
and fewer servants, but he has still more than he requires,
and his mode of life has undergone no perceptible alteration.
Maria Petrovna complains that she is no longer supplied
with eggs, chickens, and home-spun linen by the peasants,
and that everything is three times as dear as it used to be;
but somehow the larder is still full, and abundance reigns
in the house as of old.

Ivan Ivan 'itch certainly does not possess transcendent
qualities of any kind. It would be impossible to make a
hero out of him, even though his own son should be his
biographer. Muscular Christians may reasonably despise
him, and active, energetic men may fairly condemn him
for his indolence and apathy. But, on the other hand, he
has no very bad qualities. His vices are of the passive,
negative kind. He is a respectable if not distinguished
member of society, and appears a very worthy man when

A DISSOLUTE PROPRIETOR 335

compared with many of his neighbours who have been
brought up in similar conditions. Take, for instance, his
younger brother Dimitri, who Hves a short way off.

Dimitri Ivan'itch, like his brother Ivan, had been en-
dowed by Nature with a very decided repugnance to pro-
longed intellectual exertion, but as he was a man of good
parts he did not fear a Junker's examination — especially
when he could count on the colonel's protection — and accord-
ingly entered the army. In his regiment were a number of
jovial young officers like himself, always ready to relieve
the monotony of garrison life by boisterous dissipation, and
among these he easily acquired the reputation of being a
thoroughly good fellow. In drinking-bouts he could hold
his own with the best of them, and in all mad pranks in-
variably played the chief part. By this means he endeared
himself to his comrades, and for a time all went well. The
colonel had himself sown wild oats plentifully in his youth,
and was quite disposed to overlook, as far as possible, the
bacchanalian peccadilloes of his subordinates. But before
many years had passed, the regiment suddenly changed its
character. Certain rumours had reached head-quarters, and
the Emperor Nicholas appointed as colonel a stern disciplin-
arian of German origin, who aimed at making the regiment
a kind of machine that should work with the accuracy of a
chronometer.

This change did not at all suit the tastes of Dimitri
Ivan'itch. He chafed under the new restraints, and as soon
as he had gained the rank of lieutenant retired from the
service to enjoy the freedom of country life. Shortly after-
wards his father died, and he thereby became owner of an
estate, with two hundred serfs. He did not, like his elder
brother, marry, and " effeminate himself," but he did worse.
In his little independent kingdom — for such was practically
a Russian estate in the good old times — he was lord of all
he surveyed, and gave full scope to his boisterous humour,
his passion for sport, and his love of drinking and dissipa-
tion. Many of the mad pranks in which he indulged will
long be preserved by popular tradition, but they cannot well
be related here.

Dimitri Ivan'itch is now a man long past middle age,

336 RUSSIA

and still continues his wild, dissipated life. His house
resembles an ill-kept, disreputable tavern. The floor is
filthy, the furniture chipped and broken, the servants in-
dolent, slovenly, and in rags. Dogs of all breeds and sizes
roam about the rooms and corridors. The master, when
not asleep, is always in a more or less complete state of
intoxication. Generally he has one or two guests staying
with him — men of the same type as himself — and days and
nights are spent in drinking and card-playing. When he
cannot have his usual boon-companions he sends for one or
two small proprietors who live near — men who are legally
nobles, but who are so poor that they differ little from
peasants. Formerly, when ordinary resources failed, he
occasionally had recourse to the violent expedient of order-
ing his servants to stop the first passing travellers, whoever
they might be, and bring them in by persuasion or force,
as circumstance might demand. If the travellers refused to
accept such rough, undesired hospitality, a wheel would
be taken off their tarantass, or some indispensable part of
the harness would be secreted, and they might consider
themselves fortunate if they succeeded in getting away next
morning.*

In the time of serfage the domestic serfs had much to
bear from their capricious, violent master. They lived in
an atmosphere of abusive language, and were subjected not
unfrequently to corporal punishment. Worse than this,
their master was constantly threatening to "shave their
forehead " — that is to say, to give them as recruits — and
occasionally he put his threat into execution, in spite of the
wailings and entreaties of the culprit and his relations. And
yet, strange to say, nearly all of them remained with him
as free servants after the Emancipation.

In justice to the Russian landed proprietors I must say
that the class represented by Dimitri Ivan'itch has now
practically disappeared. It was the natural result of serfage
and social stagnation — of a state of society in which there

* This custom, has fortunately gone out of fashion even in outlying
districts, but an incident of the kind happened to a friend of mine as late as
1871. He was detained against his will for two whole days by a man whom
he had never seen before, and at last effected his escape by bribing the
servants of his tyrannical host.

AN OLD GENERAL 337

were few legal and moral restraints, and few inducements
to honourable activity.

Among the other landed proprietors of the district, one

of the best known is Nicolai Petrovitch B , an old military

man with the rank of general. Like Ivan Ivan 'itch, he
belongs to the old school; but the two men must be con-
trasted rather than compared. The difference in their lives
and characters is reflected in their outward appearance. Ivan
Ivan 'itch, as we know, is portly in form and heavy in all
his movements, and loves to loll in his arm-chair or to loaf
about the house in a capacious dressing-gown. The General,
on the contrary, is thin, wiry, and muscular, wears habitu-
ally a close-buttoned military tunic, and always has a stern
expression, the force of which is considerably augmented by
a bristly moustache resembling a shoe-brush. As he paces
up and down the room, knitting his brows and gazing at
the floor, he looks as if he were forming combinations of the
first magnitude; but those who know him well are aware
that this is an optical delusion, of which he is himself to
some extent a victim. He is quite innocent of deep thought
and concentrated intellectual effort. Though he frowns so
fiercely he is by no means of a naturally ferocious tempera-
ment. Had he passed all his life in the country he w^ould
probably have been as good-natured and phlegmatic as Ivan
Ivan 'itch himself, but, unlike that worshipper of tranquillity,
he had aspired to rise in the service, and had adopted the
stern, formal bearing which the Emperor Nicholas con-
sidered indispensable in an officer. The manner which he
had at first put on as part of his uniform became by the
force of habit almost a part of his nature, and at the age of
thirty he was a stern disciplinarian and uncompromising
formalist, who confined his attention exclusively to drill and
other military duties. Thus he rose steadily by his own
merit, and reached the goal of his early ambition — the rank
of general.

As soon as this point was reached he determined to leave
the service and retire to his estate. Many considerations
urged him to take this step. He enjoyed the title of Excel-
lency, which he had long coveted, and when he put on his
full uniform his breast was bespangled with medals and

338 RUSSIA

decorations. Since the death of his father the revenues of
his property had been steadily decreasing, and report said
that the best wood in his forest was rapidly disappearing.
His wife had no love for the country, and would have pre-
ferred to settle in Moscow or St. Petersburg, but they found
that with their small income they could not live in a large
town in a style suitable to their rank.

The General determined to introduce order into his estate,
and became a practical farmer; but a little experience con-
vinced him that his new functions were much more difficult
than the commanding of a regiment. He has long since
given over the practical management of the property to a
steward, and he contents himself with exercising what he
imagines to be an efficient control. Though he wishes to
do much, he finds small scope for his activity, and spends
his days in pretty much the same way as Ivan Ivan'itch,
with this difference, that he plays cards whenever he gets an
opportunity, and reads regularly the Moscow Gazette and
the Russki Invalid, the official military paper. What
specially interests him is the list of promotions, retirements,
and Imperial awards for merit and seniority. When he sees
the announcement that some old comrade has been made an
officer of his Majesty's suite or has received a grand cordon,
he frowns a little more than usual, and is tempted to regret
that he retired from the service. Had he waited patiently,
perhaps a bit of good fortune might have fallen likewise to
his lot. This idea takes possession of him, and during the
remainder of the day he is taciturn and morose. His wife
notices the change, and knows the reason of it, but has
too much good sense and tact to make any allusion to the
subject.

Anna Alexandrovna — so the good lady is called — is an
elderly dame who does not at all resemble the wife of Ivan
Ivan'itch. She was long accustomed to a numerous military
society, with dinner-parties, dancing, promenades, card-
playing, and all the other amusements of garrison life, and
she never contracted a taste for domestic concerns. Her
knowledge of culinary affairs is extremely vague, and she
has no idea of how to make preserves, nalivka, and other
home-made delicacies, though Maria Petrovna, who is

"NAME-DAYS" 339

universally acknowledged to be a great adept in such matters,
has proposed a hundred times to give her some choice
recipes. In short, domestic affairs are a burden to her, and
she entrusts them as far as possible to the housekeeper.
Altogether she finds country life very tiresome, but, possess-
ing that placid, philosophical temperament which seems to
have some causal connection with corpulence, she submits
without murmuring, and tries to lighten a little the unavoid-
able monotony by paying visits and receiving visitors. The
neighbours within a radius of twenty miles are, with few
exceptions, more or less of the Ivan Ivan'itch and Maria
Petrovna type — decidedly rustic in their manners and con-
ceptions; but their company is better than absolute solitude,
and they have at least the good quality of being always able
and willing to play cards for any number of hours. Besides
this, Anna Alexandrovna has the satisfaction of feeling that
amongst them she is almost a great personage, and un-
questionably an authority in all matters of taste and fashion ;
and she feels especially well disposed towards those of them
who frequently address her as "Your Excellency."

The chief festivities take place on the " name-days " of
the General and his spouse — that is to say, the days sacred
to St. Nicholas and St. Anne. On these occasions all the
neighbours come to offer their congratulations, and remain
to dinner as a matter of course. After dinner the older
visitors sit down to cards, and the young people extemporise
a dance. The fete is especially successful when the eldest
son comes home to take part in it, and brings a brother officer
with him. He is now a general like his father.* In days
gone by one of his comrades was expected to offer his hand
to Olga Nikolaevna, the second daughter, a delicate young
lady who had been educated in one of the great "Instituts"
— gigantic boarding-schools, founded and kept up by the
Government, for the daughters of those who are supposed
to have deserved well of their country. Unfortunately the
expected offer was never made, and she and her sister live
at home as old maids, bewailing the absence of "civilised"

* Generals are much more rommon in Russia than in other countries. A
few years ago there was an old lady in Moscow who had a family of ten
sons, all of whom were generals ! The rank may be obtained in the civil as
well as the military service.

340 RUSSIA

society, and killing time in a harmless, elegant way by
means of music, needlework, and light literature.

At those "name-day" gatherings one used to meet still
more interesting specimens of the old school. One of them
I remember particularly. He was a tall, corpulent old man,
in a threadbare frock-coat which wrinkled up about his
waist. His shaggy eyebrows almost covered his small, dull
eyes, his heavy moustache partially concealed a large mouth,
strongly indicating sensuous tendencies. His hair was cut so
short that it was difficult to say what its colour would have
been if it had been allowed to grow. He always arrived in his
tarantass just in time for the zakuska — the appetising colla-
tion that is served shortly before dinner — grunted out a few
congratulations to the host and hostess and monosyllabic
greetings to his acquaintances, ate a copious meal, and
immediately afterwards placed himself at a card-table, where
he sat in silence as long as he could get anyone to play with
him. People did not like, however, to play with Andrei
Vassil'itch, for his society was not agreeable, and he always
contrived to go home with a well-filled purse.

Andrei Vassil'itch was a noted man in the neighbour-
hood. He was the centre of a whole cycle of legends, and
I have often heard that his name was used with effect by
nurses to frighten naughty children. I never missed an
opportunity of meeting him, for I was curious to see and
study a legendary monster in the flesh. How far the
numerous stories told about him were true I cannot pretend
to say, but they were certainly not without foundation. In
his youth he had served for some time in the army, and was
celebrated, even in an age when martinets had always a
good chance of promotion, for his brutality to his subor-
dinates. His career was cut short, however, when he had
only the rank of captain. Having compromised himself in
some way, he found it advisable to send in his resignation
and retire to his estate. Here he organised his house on
Mahometan rather than Christian principles, and ruled his
servants and peasants as he had been accustomed to rule
his soldiers — using corporal punishment in merciless fashion.
His wife did not venture to protest against the Mahometan
arrangements, and any peasant who stood in the way of

A RETIRED JUDGE 341

their realisation was at once given as a recruit, or transported
to Siberia, in accordance with his master's demand.* At
last his tyranny and extortion drove his serfs to revolt. One
night his house was surrounded and set on fire, but he con-
trived to escape the fate that was prepared for him, and
caused all who had taken part in the revolt to be mercilessly
punished. This was a severe lesson, but it had no efifect
upon him. Taking precautions against a similar surprise,
he continued to tyrannise and extort as before, until in
1861 the serfs were emancipated and his authority came to
an end.

A very different sort of man was Pavel Trophim'itch,
who likewise came regularly to pay his respects and present
his congratulations to the General and "Gheneralsha." f It
was pleasant to turn from the hard, wrinkled, morose
features of the legendary monster to the soft, smooth, jovial
face of this man, who had been accustomed to look at the
bright side of things till his face had caught something of
their brightness. "A good, jovial, honest face ! " a stranger
might exclaim as he looked at him. Knowing something
of his character and history, I could not endorse such an
opinion. Jovial he certainly was, for few men were more
capable of making and enjoying mirth. Good he might be
also called, if the word were taken in the sense of good-
natured, for he never took offence, and was always ready
to do a kindly action if it did not cost him any trouble.
But as to his honesty, that required some qualification.
Wholly untarnished his reputation certainly could not be,
for he had been a judge in the District Court before the
time of the judicial reforms; and, not being a Cato, he
had succumbed to the usual temptations. He had never
studied law, and made no pretensions to the possession of
great legal knowledge. To all who would listen to him he
declared openly that he knew much more about pointers
and setters than about legal formalities. But his estate

* When a proprietor considered any of his serfs unruly he could, accord-
ing to law, have them transported to Siberia without trial, on condition of
paying the expenses of transport. Arrived at their destination, they received
land, and lived as free colonists, with the single restriction that they were
not allowed to leave the locality where they settled.

t The female form of the word General.

342 RUSSIA

was very small, and he could not afford to give up his
appointment.

Of these unreformed Courts, which are happily among
the things of the past, I shall have occasion to speak in the
sequel. For the present I wish merely to say that they were
thoroughly corrupt, and I hasten to add that Pavel Trophi-
m'itch was by no means a judge of the worst kind. He
had been known to protect widows and orphans against
those who wished to despoil them, and no amount of money
would induce him to give an unjust decision against a friend
who had privately explained the case to him ; but when
he knew nothing of the case or of the parties he readily
signed the decision prepared by the secretary, and quietly
pocketed the proceeds, without feeling any very disagreeable
twinges of conscience. All judges, he knew, did likewise,
and he had no pretension to being better than his fellows.

When Pavel Trophim'itch played cards at the General's
house or elsewhere, a small, awkward, clean-shaven man,
with dark eyes and a Tartar cast of countenance, might
generally be seen sitting at the same table. His name was

Alexei Petrovitch T . Whether he really had any Tartar

blood in him it is impossible to say, but certainly his
ancestors for one or two generations were all good Orthodox
Christians. His father had been a poor military surgeon
in a marching regiment, and he himself had become at an
early age a scribe in one of the bureaux of the district town.
He was then very poor, and had great difficulty in support-
ing life on the miserable pittance which he received as a
salary ; but he was a sharp, clever youth, and soon discovered
that even a scribe had a great many opportunities of extorting
money from the ignorant public.

These opportunities Alexei Petr6vitch used with great
ability, and became known as one of the most accomplished
bribe-takers (vzydtotchniki) in the district. His position,
however, was so very subordinate that he would never have
become rich had he not fallen upon a very ingenious ex-
pedient which completely succeeded. Hearing that a small
proprietor, who had an only daughter, had come to live in
the town for a few weeks, he took a room in the inn where
the new-comers lived, and when he had made their acquaint-

SOCIAL LENIENCY 343

ance he fell dangerously ill. Feeling his last hours approach-
ing, he sent for a priest, confided to him that he had amassed
a large fortune, and requested that a will should be drawn
up. In the will he bequeathed considerable sums to all his
relations, and did not forget the parish church. The whole
affair was to be kept a secret till after his death, but his
neighbour — the old gentleman with the daughter — was
called in to act as a witness. When all this had been done
he did not die, but rapidly recovered, and now induced
the old gentleman to whom he had confided his secret to
grant him his daughter's hand. The daughter had no
objections to marry a man possessed of such wealth, and
the marriage was duly celebrated. Shortly after this the
father died— without discovering, it is to be hoped, the hoax
that had been perpetrated — and Alexei Petr6vitch became
virtual possessor of a very comfortable little estate. With
the change in his fortunes he completely changed his
principles, or at least his practice. In all his dealings he
was now strictly honest. He lent money, it is true, at from
ten to fifteen per cent., but that was considered in these parts
not a very exorbitant rate of interest, nor was he unneces-
sarily hard upon his debtors.

It may seem strange that an honourable man like the
General should receive in his house such a motley company,
including men of decidedly tarnished reputation; but in
this respect he was not at all peculiar. One used constantly
to meet in Russian provincial society men who were known
to be habitually guilty of corrupt practices ; and the honest,
respectable landed proprietor had no scruples about associat-
ing with such neighbours on friendly terms. This social
leniency, moral laxity, or whatever else it may be called,
was the result of various causes. Several concurrent in-
fluences had tended to lower the moral standard of the
Noblesse. So long as serfage existed, the noble who lived
on his estate could play with impunity the petty tyrant, and
could freely indulge his legitimate and illegitimate caprices
without any legal or moral restraint, I do not at all mean
to assert that all proprietors abused their authority, but I
venture to say that no class of men can long possess such
enormous arbitrary power over those around them without

344 RUSSIA

being thereby more or less demoralised. When the noble
entered the service he had not the same immunity from
restraint — on the contrary, his position resembled rather that
of the serf — but he breathed an atmosphere of peculation and
jobbery, little conducive to moral purity and uprightness.
If an official had refused to associate with those who were
tainted with the prevailing vices, he would have found him-
self completely isolated, and would have been ridiculed as
a modern Don Quixote. Add to this that all classes of the
Russian people have a certain kindly, apathetic good-nature
which makes them very charitable towards their neighbours,
and that they do not always distinguish between forgiving
private injury and excusing public delinquencies. If we
bear all this in mind, we may readily understand that in
the time of serfage and maladministration a man could be
guilty of very reprehensible practices without incurring
social excommunication.

During the period of moral awakening after the Crimean
War, society suddenly changed its tune, revelled in virtuous
indignation against the prevailing abuses, and placed on
the pillory the most prominent delinquents; but the intensity
of the moral feeling soon declined, and something of the
old apathy returned. This might have been predicted by
anyone well acquainted with the character and past history
of the Russian people. Russia advances on the road of
progress not in that smooth, gradual, prosaic way to which
we are accustomed, but by a series of unconnected, frantic
efforts, each of which is naturally followed by a period of
temporary exhaustion.

CHAPTER XXII

PROPRIETORS OF THE MODERN SCHOOL

Hitherto I have presented to the reader old-fashioned types
which were common enough when I first resided in Russia,
but which are rapidly disappearing. Let me now present
a few of the modern school.

In the same district as Ivan Ivan'itch and the General

lives Victor Alexandr'itch L . As we approach his

house we can at once perceive that he differs from the
majority of his neighbours. The gate is painted and moves
easily on its hinges, the fence is in good repair, the short
avenue leading up to the front door is well kept, and in the
garden we can perceive at a glance that more attention is
paid to flowers than to vegetables. The house is of wood,
and not large, but it has some architectural pretensions in
the form of a great, pseudo-Doric wooden portico that covers
three-fourths of the fagade. In the interior we remark
everywhere the influence of Western civilisation. Victor
Alexandr'itch is by no means richer than Ivan Ivan'itch,
but his rooms are much more luxuriously furnished. The
furniture is of a lighter model, more comfortable, and in a
much better state of preservation. Instead of the bare,
scantily furnished sitting-room, with the old-fashioned
barrel-organ which played only six airs, we find an elegant
drawing-room, with a piano by one of the most approved
makers, and numerous articles of foreign manufacture, in-
cluding a small buhl table and two bits of genuine old Wedg-
wood. The servants are clean, and dressed in European
costume. The master, too, is very different in appearance.
He pays great attention to his toilette, wearing a dressing-
gown only in the early morning, and a fashionable lounging-
coat during the rest of the day. The Turkish pipes which
his grandfather loved he holds in abhorrence, and habitually
smokes cigarettes. With his wife and daughters he always

345

346 RUSSIA

speaks French, and calls them by French or English
names.

But the part of the house which most strikingly illustrates
the difference between old and new is "le cabinet de
monsieur." In the cabinet of Ivan Ivan'itch the furniture
consists of a broad sofa which serves as a bed, a few deal
chairs, and a clumsy deal table, on which are generally to
be found a bundle of greasy papers, an old chipped ink-
bottle, a pen, and a calendar. The cabinet of Victor
Alexandr'itch has an entirely different appearance. It is
small, but at once comfortable and elegant. The principal
objects which it contains are a library table, with inkstand,
presse-papier, paper-knives, and other articles in keeping,
and in the opposite corner a large bookcase. The collection
of books is remarkable, not from the number of volumes or
the presence of rare editions, but from the variety of the
subjects. History, art, fiction, the drama, political economy,
and agriculture are represented in about equal proportions.
Some of the works are in Russian, others in German, a
large number in French, and a few in Italian. The collection
illustrates the former life and present occupations of the
owner.

The father of Victor Alexandr'itch was a landed pro-
prietor, who had made a successful career in the civil service,
and desired that his son should follow the same profession.
For this purpose Victor was first carefully trained at home,
and then sent to the University of Moscow, where he spent
four years as a student of law. From the University he
passed to the Ministry of the Interior in St. Petersburg,
but he found the monotonous routine of official life not at all
suited to his taste, and very soon sent in his resignation. The
death of his father had made him proprietor of an estate,
and thither he retired, hoping to find plenty of occupation
more congenial than the writing of official papers.

At the University of Moscow he had attended lectures
on history and philosophy, and had got through a large
amount of desultory reading. The chief result of his studies
was the acquisition of many ill-digested general principles,
and certain vague, generous, humanitarian aspirations.
With this intellectual capital he hoped to lead a useful life

AN AGRICULTURAL REFORMER 347

in the country. When he had repaired and furnished the
house he set himself to improve the estate. In the course
of his promiscuous reading he had stumbled on some
descriptions of English and Tuscan agriculture, and had
there learned what wonders might be effected by a rational
system of farming. Why should not Russia follow the
example of England and Tuscany ? By proper drainage,
plentiful manure, good ploughs, and the cultivation of
artificial grasses, the production might be multiplied ten-
fold ; and by the introduction of agricultural machines the
manual labour might be greatly diminished. All this
seemed as simple as a sum in arithmetic, and Victor
Alexandr'itch, more scholarium rei familiaris ignarus, with-
out a moment's hesitation expended his ready money in
procuring from England a threshing machine, ploughs,
harrows, and other implements of the newest model.

The arrival of these was an event that was long remem-
bered. The peasants examined them with attention, not
unmixed with wonder, but said nothing. When the master
explained to them the advantages of the new instruments,
they still remained silent. Only one old man, gazing at
the threshing machine, remarked, in an audible "aside,"
'•'A cunning people these Germans!"* On being asked
for their opinion, they replied vaguely, "How should we
know ? It ought to be so." But when their master had
retired, and was explaining to his wife and the French
governess that the chief obstacle to progress in Russia
was the apathetic indolence and conservative spirit of the
peasantry, they expressed their opinions more freely.
"These may be all very well for the Germans, but they
won't do for us. How are our little horses to drag these
big ploughs? And as for that (the threshing machine), it's
of no use." Further examination and reflection confirmed
this first impression, and it was unanimously decided that
no good would come of the new-fangled inventions.

These apprehensions proved to be only too well founded.
The ploughs were much too heavy for the peasants' small

* The Russian peasant comprehends all the inhabitants of Western Europe
under the term Nyemtsi, which in the language of the educated designates
only Germans. The rest of humanity is composed of Pravoslavniye (Greek
Orthodox), Busurmanye (Mahometans), and Poliacki (Poles).

348 RUSSIA

horses, and the threshing machine broke down at the first
attempt to use it. For the purchase of Hgiiter implements
or stronger horses there was no ready money, and for the
repairing of the threshing machine there was not an engineer
within a radius of a hundred and fifty miles. The experiment
was, in short, a complete failure, and the new purchases
were put away out of sight.

For some weeks after this incident Victor Alexandr'itch
felt very despondent, and spoke more than usual about the
apathy and stupidity of the peasantry. His faith in infallible
science was somewhat shaken, and his benevolent aspirations
were for a time laid aside. But this eclipse of faith was not
of long duration. Gradually he recovered his normal con-
dition, and began to form new schemes. From the study
of certain works on political economy he learned that the
system of Communal property was ruinous to the fertility
of the soil, and that free labour was always more productive
than serfage. By the light of these principles he discovered
why the peasantry in Russia were so poor, and by what
means their condition could be ameliorated. The Communal
land should be divided into fam.ily lots, and the serfs, instead
of being forced to work for the proprietor, should pay a
yearly sum as rent. The advantages of this change he
perceived clearly — as clearly as he had formerly perceived
the advantages of English agricultural implements — and he
determined to make the experiment on his own estate.

His first step was to call together the more intelligent
and influential of his serfs, and to explain to them his
project ; but his efforts at explanation were eminently
unsuccessful. Even with regard to ordinary current affairs
he could not express himself in that simple, homely language
with which alone the peasants are familiar, and when he
spoke on abstract subjects he naturally became quite unin-
telligible to his uneducated audience. The serfs listened
attentively, but understood nothing. He might as well
have spoken to them, as he often did in another kind of
society, about the comparative excellence of Italian and
German music. At a second attempt he had rather more
success. The peasants came to understand that what he
wished was to break up the Mir, or Rural Commune, and

MISTAKEN BENEVOLENCE 349

to put them all "on obrok " — that is to say, make them pay
a yearly sum instead of giving them a certain amount of
agricultural labour. Much to his astonishment, his scheme
did not meet \vith any sympathy. As to being put "on
obrok," the serfs did not much object, though they preferred
to remain as they were ; but his proposal to break up the
Mir astonished and bewildered them. They regarded it as
a sear-captain might regard the proposal of a scientific wise-
acre to knock a hole in the ship's bottom in order to make
her sail faster. Though they did not say much, he was
intelligent enough to see that they would offer a strenuous
passive resistance, and as he did not wish to act tyrannically,
he let the matter drop. Thus a second benevolent scheme
was shipwrecked. Many other schemes had a similar fate,
and Victor Alexandr'itch began to perceive that it was very
difficult to do good in this world, especially when the persons
to be benefited were Russian peasants.

In reality the fault lay less with the serfs than with their
master. Victor Alexandr'itch was by no means a stupid
man. On the contrary, he had more than average talents.
Few men were more capable of grasping a new idea and
forming a scheme for its realisation, and few men could
play more dexterously with abstract principles. What he
wanted was the power of dealing with concrete facts. The
principles which he had acquired from University lectures
and desultory reading were far too vague and abstract for
practical use. He had studied abstract science without
gaining any technical knowledge of details, and consequently
when he stood face to face with real life he was like a
student who, having studied mechanics in text-books, is
suddenly placed in a workshop and ordered to construct a
machine. Only there was one difference : Victor Alexan-
dr'itch was not ordered to do anything. Voluntarily, with-
out any apparent necessity, he set himself to work with
tools which he could not handle. It was this that chiefly
puzzled the peasants. Why should he trouble himself with
these new schemes, when he might live comfortably as he
was? In some of his projects they could detect a desire
to increase the revenue, but in others they could discover
no such motive. In these latter they attributed his conduct

350 RUSSIA

to pure caprice, and put it into the same category as those
mad pranks in which proprietors of jovial humour some-
times indulged.

In the last years of serfage there were a good many
landed proprietors like Victor Alexandr'itch — men who
wished to do something beneficent, and did not know how
to do it. When serfage was being abolished the majority
of these men took an active part in the great work and
rendered valuable service to their country. Victor Alex-
andr'itch acted otherwise. At first he sympathised warmly
with the proposed emancipation and wrote several articles
on the advantages of free labour, but when the Government
took the matter into its own hands he declared that the
officials had deceived and slighted the Noblesse, and he
went over to the Opposition. Before the Imperial Edict
was signed he went abroad, and travelled for three years in
Germany, France, and Italy. Shortly after his return he
married a pretty, accomplished young lady, the daughter of
an eminent official in St. Petersburg, and since that time
he has lived in his country house.

Though a man of education and culture, Victor Alex-
andr'itch spends his time in almost as indolent a way as
the men of the old school. He rises somewhat later, and
instead of sitting by the open window and gazing into the
courtyard, he turns over the pages of a book or periodical.
Instead of dining at midday and supping at nine o'clock,
he takes dejeuner at twelve and dines at five. He spends
less time in sitting in the veranda and pacing up and down
with his hands behind his back, for he can vary the opera-
tion of time-killing by occasionally writing a letter, or by
standing behind his wife at the piano while she plays
selections from Mozart and Beethoven. But these peculiari-
ties are merely variations in detail. If there is any essential
difference between the lives of Victor Alexandr'itch and of
Ivan Ivan'itch, it is in the fact that the former never goes
out into the fields to see how the work is done, and never
troubles himself with the state of the weather, the condition
of the crops, and cognate subjects. He leaves the manage-
ment of his estate entirely to his steward, and refers to that
personage all peasants who come to him with complaints

THE OLD SCHOOL AND THE NEW 351

or petitions. Though he takes a deep interest in the peasant
as an impersonal, abstract entity, and loves to contemplate
concrete examples of the genus in the works of certain
popular authors, he does not like to have any direct relations
with peasants in the flesh. If he has to speak with them
he always feels awkward, and in winter he suffers from the
odour of their sheepskins. Ivan Ivan'itch is ever ready to
talk with the peasants, and give them sound, practical advice
or severe admonitions; and in the old times he was apt, in
moments of irritation, to supplement his admonitions by a
free use of his fists. Victor Alexandr'itch, on the contrary,
never could give any advice except vague commonplace,
and as to using his fists, he would have shrunk from that,
not only from respect to humanitarian principles, but
also from motives which belong to the region of aesthetic
sensitiveness.

This difference between the two men has an important
influence on their pecuniary affairs. The stewards of both
steal from their masters; but that of Ivan Ivan'itch steals
with difficulty, and to a very limited extent, whereas that
of Victor Alexandr'itch steals regularly and methodically,
and counts his gains, not by kopeks, but by roubles.
Though the two estates are of about the same size and value,
they give a very different revenue. The rough, practical
man has a much larger income than his elegant, well-
educated neighbour, and at the same time spends very much
less. The consequences of this, if not at present visible,
must some day become painfully apparent. Ivan Ivan'itch
will doubtless leave to his children an unencumbered estate
and a certain amount of capital. The children of Victor
Alexandr'itch have a different prospect. He has already
begun to mortgage his property and to cut down the timber,
and he always finds a deficit at the end of the year. What
will become of his wife and children when the estate comes
to be sold for payment of the mortgage, it is difficult to
predict. He thinks very little of that eventuality, and when
his thoughts happen to wander in that direction, he consoles
himself with the thought that before the crash comes he
will have inherited a fortune from a rich uncle who has no
children.

352 RUSSIA

The proprietors of the old school lead the same uniform,
monotonous life year after year, with very little variation.
Victor Alexandr'itch, on the contrary, feels the need of a
periodical return to "civilised society," and accordingly
spends a few weeks every winter in St. Petersburg. During
the summer months he has the society of his brother — un
homme tout a fait civilise — who possesses an estate a few
miles off.

This brother, Vladimir Alexandr'itch, was educated in
the School of Law in St. Petersburg, and has since risen
rapidly in the service. He holds now a prominent position
in one of the Ministries, and has the honorary Court title
of "Chambellan de sa Majeste." He is a marked man in the
higher circles of the Administration, and will, it is thought,
some day become Minister. Though an adherent of
enlightened views, and a professed "Liberal," he contrives
to keep on very good terms with those who imagine them-
selves to be "Conservatives." In this he is assisted by his
soft, oily manner. If you express an opinion to him he
will always begin by telling you that you are quite right;
and if he ends by showing you that you are quite wrong,
he will at least make you feel that your error is not only
excusable, but in some way highly creditable to your intel-
lectual acuteness or goodness of heart. In spite of his
Liberalism he is a staunch Monarchist, and considers that
the time has not yet come for the Emperor to grant a Con-
stitution. He recognises that the present order of things has
its defects, but thinks that, on the whole, it acts very well,
and would act much better if certain high officials were
removed, and more energetic men put in their places. Like
all genuine St. Petersburg tchinovniks (officials), he has
great faith in the miraculous power of Imperial ukazes and
Ministerial circulars, and believes that national progress
consists in multiplying these documents, and centralising
the Administration, so as to give them more effect. As a
supplementary means of progress he highly approves of
aesthetic culture, and he can speak with some eloquence on
the humanising influence of the fine arts. For his owmi part
he is well acquainted with French and English classics, and
particularly admires Macaulay, whom he declares to have

ON RUSSIAN LITERATURE 353

been not only a great writer, but also a great statesman.
Among writers of fiction he gives the palm to George Eliot,
and speaks of the novelists of his own country, and, indeed,
of Russian literature as a whole, in the most disparaging
terms.

A very different estimate of Russian literature is held

by Alexander Ivan'itch N , formerly arbiter in peasant

affairs, and afterwards justice of the peace. Discussions on
this subject often take place between the two. The admirer
of Macaulay declares that Russia has, properly speaking,
no literature whatever, and that the works which bear the
names of Russian authors are nothing but a feeble echo of
the literature of Western Europe. " Imitators," he is wont
to say, "skilful imitators, w^e have produced in abundance.
But where is there a man of original genius? What is our
famous poet Zhuk6vski ? A translator. What is Pushkin ?
A clever pupil of the romantic school. What is Lermontov?
A feeble imitator of Byron. What is Gogol ? "

At this point Alexander Ivan'itch invariably intervenes.
He is ready to sacrifice all the pseudo-classic and romantic
poetry, and, in fact, the whole of Russian literature anterior
to about the year 1840, but he will not allow anything dis-
respectful to be said of G6gol, who about that time founded
the Russian realistic school. "G6gol," he holds, "was a
great and original genius. G6gol not only created a new
kind of literature; he at the same time transformed the
reading public, and inaugurated a new era in the intellectual
development of the nation. By his humorous, satirical
sketches he swept away the metaphysical dreaming and
foolish romantic affectation then in fashion, and taught men
to see their country as it was, in all its hideous ugliness.
With his help the young generation perceived the rottenness
of the Administration, and the meanness, stupidity, dis-
honesty, and worthlessness of the landed proprietors, whom
he made the special butt of his ridicule. The recognition
of defects produced a desire for reform. From laughing at
the proprietors there was but one step to despising them,
and when we learned to despise the proprietors we naturally
came to sympathise with the serfs. Thus the Emancipation
was prepared by the literature; and when the great question

354 RUSSIA

had to be solved, it was the literature that discovered a
satisfactory solution."

This is a subject on which Alexander Ivan'itch feels very
strongly, and on which he always speaks with warmth. He
knows a good deal regarding the intellectual movement
which began about 1840, and culminated in the great reforms
of the 'sixties. As a University student he troubled himself
very little with serious academic work, but he read with
intense interest all the leading periodicals, and adopted the
doctrine of Belinski that art should not be cultivated for its
own sake, but should be made subservient to social progress.
This belief was confirmed by a perusal of some of George
Sand's earlier works, which were for him a kind of revela-
tion. Social questions engrossed his thoughts, and all other
subjects seemed puny by comparison. When the Emanci-
pation question was raised he saw an opportunity of apply-
ing some of his theories, and threw himself enthusiastically
into the new movement as an ardent abolitionist. When
the law was passed he helped to put it into execution by
serving for three years as an Arbiter of the Peace. Now
he is an old man, but he has preserved some of his youthful
enthusiasm, attends regularly the annual assemblies of the
Zemstvo, and takes a lively interest in all public affairs.

As an ardent partisan of local self-government he
habitually scoffs at the centralised bureaucracy, which he
proclaims to be the great bane of his unhappy country.
"These tchinovniks," he is wont to say in moments of
excitement, "who live in St. Petersburg and govern the
Empire, know about as much of Russia as they do of China.
They live in a world of official documents, and are hope-
lessly ignorant of the real wants and interests of the people.
So long as all the required formalities are duly observed
they are perfectly satisfied. The people may be allowed to
die of starvation if only the fact do not appear in the official
reports. Powerless to do any good themselves, they are
powerful enough to prevent others from working for the
public good, and are extremely jealous of all private
initiative. How have they acted, for instance, towards the
Zemstvo? The Zemstvo is really a good institution, and
might have done great things if it had been left alone, but

CANDID OPINIONS 355

as soon as it began to show a little independent energy the
officials at once clipped its wings and then strangled it.
Towards the Press they have acted in the same way. They
are afraid of the Press, because they fear above all things
a healthy public opinion, which the Press alone can create.
Everything that disturbs the habitual routine alarms them.
Russia cannot make any real progress so long as she is ruled
by these cursed tchinovniks."

Scarcely less pernicious than the tchinovnik, in the eyes
of our would-be reformer, is the baritch — that is to say, the
pampered, capricious, spoiled child of mature years, whose
life is spent in elegant indolence and fine talking. Our
friend Victor Alexandr'itch is commonly selected as a repre-
sentative of this type. "Look at him ! " exclaims Alexander
Ivan'itch. "What a useless, contemptible member of
society ! In spite of his generous aspirations he never
succeeds in doing anything useful to himself or to others.
When the peasant question was raised and there was work
to be done, he went abroad and talked Liberalism in Paris
and Baden-Baden. Though he reads, or at least professes
to read, books on agriculture, and is always ready to dis-
course on the best means of preventing the exhaustion of
the soil, he knows less of farming than a peasant boy of
twelve, and when he goes into the fields he can hardly dis-
tinguish rye from oats. Instead of babbling about German
and Italian music, he would do well to learn a little about
practical farming, and look after his estate."

Whilst Alexander Ivan'itch thus censures his neighbours,
he is himself not without detractors. Some staid old pro-
prietors regard him as a dangerous man, and quote expres-
sions of his which seem to indicate that his notions of
property are somewhat loose. Many consider that his
Liberalism is of a very violent kind, and that he has strong
republican sympathies. In his decisions as Justice he often
leaned, it is said, to the side of the peasants against the
proprietors. Then he was always trying to induce the
peasants of the neighbouring villages to found schools, and
he had wonderful ideas about the best method of teaching
children. These and similar facts make many people believe
that he has very advanced ideas, and one old gentleman

356 RUSSIA

habitually calls him — half in joke and half in earnest — "our
friend the Communist."

In reality Alexander Ivan'itch has nothing of the com-
munist about him. Though he loudly denounces the
tchinovnik spirit — or, as we should say, red-tape in all its
forms — and is an ardent partisan of local self-government,
he is one of the last men in the world to take part in any
revolutionary movement. He would like to see the Central
Government enlightened and controlled by public opinion
and by a national representation, but he believes that this
can only be effected by voluntary concessions on the part of
the Autocratic Power. He has, perhaps, a sentimental love
of the peasantry, and is always ready to advocate its interests;
but he has come too much in contact with individual peasants
to accept those idealised descriptions in which some popular
writers indulge, and it may safely be asserted that the accusa-
tion of his voluntarily favouring peasants at the expense of
proprietors is wholly unfounded. Alexander Ivan'itch is,
in fact, a quiet, sensible man, who is capable of generous
enthusiasm, and is not at all satisfied with the existing state
of things; but he is not a dreamer and a revolutionnaire, as
some of his neighbours assert.

I am afraid I cannot say as much for his younger
brother Nikolai, wlio lives with him. Nikolai Ivan'itch is
a tall, slender man, about sixty years of age, with emaciated
face, bilious complexion and long black hair — evidently a
person of excitable, nervous temperament. When he speaks
he articulates rapidly, and uses more gesticulation than is
common among his countrymen. His favourite subject of
conversation, or rather of discourse, for he more frequently
preaches than talks, is the lamentable state of the country
and the worthlessness of the Government. Against the
Government he has a great many causes for complaint, and
one or two of a personal kind. In 1861 he was a student
in the University of St. Petersburg. At that time there
was a great deal of public excitement all over Russia, and
especially in the capital. The serfs had just been emanci-
pated, and other important reforms had been undertaken.
There was a general conviction among the young genera-
tion— and it must be added among many older men — that

AN EXTREME RADICAL 357

the autocratic, paternal system of government was at an
end, and that Russia was about to be reorganised according
to the most advanced principles of political and social
science. The students, sharing this conviction, wished to
be freed from all academical authority, and to organise a
kind of academic self-government. They desired especially
the right of holding public meetings for the discussion of
their common affairs. The authorities would not allow this,
and issued a list of rules prohibiting meetings and raising
the class-fees, so as practically to exclude many of the poorer
students. This was felt to be a wanton insult to the spirit
of the new era. In spite of the prohibition, indignation
meetings were held, and fiery speeches made by male and
female orators, first in the class-rooms, and afterwards in
the courtyard of the University. On one occasion a long
procession marched through the principal streets to the
house of the Curator. Never had such a spectacle been
seen before in St. Petersburg. Timid people feared that it
was the commencement of a revolution, and dreamed about
barricades. At last the authorities took energetic measures;
about 300 students were arrested, and of these, thirty-two
were expelled from the University.

Among those who were expelled was Nikolai Ivan'itch.
All his hopes of becoming a professor as he had intended
were thereby shipwrecked, and he had to look out for some
other profession. A literary career now seemed the most
promising, and certainly the most congenial to his tastes.
It would enable him to gratifv his ambition of being a public
man, and give him opportunities of attacking and annoying
his persecutors. He had already written occasionally for
one of the leading periodicals, and now he became a regular
contributor. His stock of positive knowledge was not very
large, but he had the power of writing fluently and of
making his readers believe that he had an unlimited store
of political wisdom which the Press-censure prevented him
from publishing. Besides this, he had the talent of saying
sharp, satirical things about those in authority, in such a
way that even a Press Censor could not easily raise objec-
tions. Articles written in this style were sure at that time
to be popular, and his had a very great success. He became

358 RUSSIA

a known man in literary circles, and for a time all went well.
But gradually he became less cautious, whilst the authorities
became more vigilant. Some copies of a violent seditious
proclamation fell into the hands of the police, and it was
generally believed that the document proceeded from the
coterie to which he belonged. From that moment he was
carefully watched, till one night he was unexpectedly roused
from his sleep by a gendarme and conveyed to the fortress.

When a man is arrested in this way for a real or supposed
political offence, there are two modes of dealing with him :
he may be tried before a regular tribunal, or he may be
dealt with "by administrative procedure" {administrativnym
poryadkom). In the former case he will, if convicted, be
condemned to imprisonment for a certain term; or, if the
offence be of a graver nature, he may be transported to
Siberia either for a fixed period or for life. By the adminis-
trative procedure he is simply removed without a trial to
some distant town, and compelled to live there under police
supervision during his Majesty's pleasure. Nikolai Ivan 'itch
was treated "administratively," because the authorities,
though convinced that he was a dangerous character, could
not find sufficient evidence to procure his conviction before
a court of justice. For five years he lived under police
supervision in a small town near the White Sea, and then
one day he was informed, without any explanation, that
he might go and live anywhere he pleased except in St.
Petersburg and Moscow.

Since that time he has lived with his brother, and spends
his time in brooding over his grievances and bewailing his
shattered illusions. He has lost none of that fluency which
gained him an ephemeral literary reputation, and can speak
by the hour on political and social questions to anyone who
will listen to him. It is extremely difficult, however, to
follow his discourses, and utterly impossible to retain them
in the memory. They belong to what may be called political
metaphysics — for though he professes to hold metaphysics
in abhorrence, he is himself a thorough metaphysician in
his modes of thought. He lives, indeed, in a world of
abstract conceptions, in which he can scarcely perceive
concrete facts, and his arguments are always a kind of

A SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY 359

clever juggling with such equivocal, conventional terms as
aristocracy, bourgeoisie, monarchy, and the like. At con-
crete facts he arrives, not directly by observation, but by
deductions from general principles, so that his facts can
never by any possibility contradict his theories. Then he
has certain axioms which he tacitly assumes, and on which
all his arguments are based ; as, for instance, that everything
to which the term "Liberal " can be applied must necessarily
be good at all times and under all conditions.

Among a mass of vague conceptions which it is
impossible to reduce to any clearly defined form he has a
few ideas which are perhaps not strictly true, but which
are at least intelligible. Among these is his conviction that
Russia has let slip a magnificent opportunity of distancing
all Europe on the road of progress. She might, he thinks,
at the time of the Emancipation, have boldly accepted all
the most advanced principles of political and social science,
and have completely reorganised the political and social
structure in accordance with them. Other nations could
not take such a step, because they are old and decrepit,
filled with stubborn, hereditary prejudices, and cursed with
an aristocracy and a bourgeoisie ; but Russia is young,
knows nothing of social castes, and has no deep-rooted
prejudices to contend with. The population is like potter's
clav, which can be made to assume any form that science
may recommend. Alexander II. began a magnificent socio-
logical experiment, but he stopped half-way.

Some day, he believes, the experiment will be completed,
but not by the Autocratic Power. In his opinion, autocracy
is "played out," and must give w-ay to Parliamentary institu-
tions. For him a Constitution is a kind of omnipotent fetish.
You mav try to explain to him that a Parliamentary regime,
whatever its advantages may be, necessarily produces
political parties and political conflicts, and is not nearly so
suitable for grand sociological experiments as a good paternal
despotism. You may try to convince him that, though it
mav be difficult to convert an autocrat, it is infinitely more
difficult to convert a House of Commons. But all your
efforts will be in vain. He will assure you that a Russian
Parliament would be something quite different from what

36o RUSSIA

Parliaments commonly are. It would contain no parties,
for Russia has no social castes, and would be guided
entirely by scientific considerations — as free from prejudice
and personal influences as a philosopher speculating on the
nature of the Infinite ! In short, he evidently imagines that
a national Parliament would be composed of himself and
his friends, and that the nation would calmly submit to their
ukazes as it has hitherto submitted to the ukazes of the
Tsars.

Pending the advent of this political millennium, when
unimpassioned science is to reign supreme, Nikolai Ivan'itch
allows himself the luxury of indulging in some very decided
political animosities, and he hates with the fervour of a
fanatic. Firstly and chiefly, he hates what he calls the
bourgeoisie — he is obliged to use the French word, because
his native language does not contain an equivalent term—
and especially capitalists of all sorts and dimensions. Next,
he hates aristocracy, especially a form of aristocracy called
Feudalism. To these abstract terms he does not attach a
very precise meaning, but he hates the entities which they
are supposed to represent quite as heartily as if they were
personal enemies. Among the things which he hates in his
own country, the Autocratic Power holds the first place.
Next, as an emanation from the Autocratic Power, come
the tchinovniks, and especially the gendarmes. Then come
the landed proprietors. Though he is himself a landed pro-
prietor, he regards the class as cumberers of the ground,
and thinks that all their land should be confiscated and
distributed among the peasantry.

All proprietors have the misfortune to come under his
sweeping denunciations, because they are inconsistent with
his ideal of a peasant Empire, but he recognises amongst
them degrees of depravity. Some are simply obstructive,
whilst others are actively prejudicial to the public welfare.
Among these latter a special object of aversion is Prince

S , because he not only possesses very large estates, but

at the same time has aristocratic pretensions, and calls him-
self a Conservative.

Prince S is by far the most important man in the

district. His family is one of the oldest in the country;

A COURT DIGNITARY 361

but he does not owe his influence to his pedigree, for
pedigree pure and simple does not count for much in Russia.
He is influential and respected because he is a great land-
holder with a high official position, and belongs by birth to
that group of families which forms the permanent nucleus
of the ever-changing Court society. His father and grand-
father were important personages in the administration and
at Court, and his sons and grandsons will probably in this
respect follow in the footsteps of their ancestors. Though
in the eye of the law all nobles are equal, and, theoretically
speaking, promotion is gained exclusively by personal merit,
yet, in reality, those who have friends at Court rise more
easily and more rapidly.

The Prince has had a prosperous but not very eventful
life. He was educated, first at home, under an English
tutor, and afterwards in the Corps des Pages. On leaving
this institution he entered a regiment of the Guards, and
rose steadily to high military rank. His activity, however,
has been chiefly in the civil administration, and he now has
a seat on the Council of State. Though he has always taken
a certain interest in public affairs, he did not play an
important part in any of the great reforms. When the
peasant question w^as raised he sympathised with the idea
of emancipation, but did not at all sympathise with the idea
of giving land to the emancipated serfs and preserving the
Communal institutions. What he desired was that the pro-
prietors should liberate their serfs without any pecuniary
indemnity, and should receive in return a certain share of
political power. His scheme was not adopted, but he has
not relinquished the hope that the great landed proprietors
may somehow obtain a social and political position similar
to that of the great landowners in England.

Official duties and social relations compel the Prince to
live for a large part of the year in the capital. He spends
only a few weeks yearly on his estate. The house is large,
and fitted up in the English style, wath a view to combining
elegance and comfort. It contains several spacious apart-
ments, a library, and a billiard-room. There is an extensive
park, an immense garden with hothouses, numerous horses
and carriages, and a legion of servants. In the drawing-

362 RUSSIA

room is a plentiful supply of English and French books,
newspapers, and periodicals, including the Journal de St.
Petersbourg, which gives the news of the day. The family
have, in short, all the conveniences and comforts which
money and refinement can procure, but it cannot be said
that they greatly enjoy the time spent in the country. The
Princess has no decided objection to it. She is devoted to
a little grandchild, is fond of reading and correspondence,
amuses herself wath a school and hospital which she has
founded for the peasantry, and occasionally drives over to

see her friend, the Countess N , who lives about fifteen

miles off.

The Prince, however, finds country life excessively dull.
He does not care for riding or shooting, and he finds nothing
else to do. He knows nothing about the management of
his estate, and holds consultations with the steward merely
pro forma — this estate, and the others which he possesses
in different provinces, being ruled by a head-steward in St.
Petersburg, in whom he has the most complete confidence.
In the vicinity there is no one with whom he cares to
associate. Naturally he is not a sociable man, and he has
acquired a stiff, formal, reserved manner that is rarely met
with in Russia. This manner repels the neighbouring pro-
prietors— a fact that he does not at all regret, for they do
not belong to his monde, and they have in their manners
and habits a free-and-easy rusticity which is positively dis-
agreeable to him. His relations with them are therefore
confined to formal calls. The greater part of the day he
spends in listless loitering, frequently yawning, regretting
the routine of St. Petersburg life — the pleasant chats with
his colleagues, the opera, the ballet, the French theatre,
and the quiet rubber at the Club Anglais. His spirits rise
as the day of his departure approaches, and when he drives
off to the station he looks bright and cheerful. If he con-
sulted merely his own tastes he would never visit his estates
at all, and would spend his summer holidays in Germany,
France, or Switzerland, as he did in his bachelor days; but
as a large landowner he considers it right to sacrifice his
personal inclinations to the duties of his position.

There is, by the way, another princely magnate in the

A NEW TYPE 363

district, and I ought perhaps to introduce him to my readers,
because he represents worthily a new type. Like Prince

S , of whom I have just spoken, he is a great landowner

and a descendant of the half-mythical Rurik ; but he has no
official rank, and does not possess a single grand cordon.
In that respect he has follow^ed in the footsteps of his father
and grandfather, who had something of the jrondeur spirit,
and preferred the position of a grand seigneur and a country
gentleman to that of a tchinovnik and a courtier. In the
Liberal camp he is regarded as a Conservative, but he has
little in common with the Reactionaries (Krepostniki), who
declare that the reforms of the last half-century were a
mistake, that everything is going to the bad, that the
emancipated serfs are all sluggards, drunkards, and thieves,
that the local self-government is an ingenious machine for
wasting money, and that the reformed law-courts have con-
ferred benefits only on the lawyers. On the contrary, he
recognises the necessity and beneficent results of the reforms,
and with regard to the future he has none of the despairing
pessimism of the incorrigible old Tory.

But in order that real progress should be made, he thinks
that certain current and fashionable errors must be avoided,
and among these errors he places, in the first rank, the views
and principles of the advanced Liberals, w^ho have a blind
admiration for Western Europe, and for what they are
pleased to call the results of science. Like the Liberals of
the West, these gentlemen assume that the best form of
government is constitutionalism, monarchical or republican,
on a broad democratic basis, and towards the realisation of
this ideal all their efforts are directed. Not so our Conserva-
tive friend. While admitting that democratic Parliamentary
institutions may be the best form of government for the
more advanced nations of the West, he maintains that the
only firm foundation for the Russian Empire, and the only
solid guarantee of its future prosperity, is the Autocratic
Power, which is the sole genuine representative of the
national spirit. Looking at the past from this point of
view, he perceives that the Tsars have ever identified them-
selves with the nation, and have always understood, in part
instinctively and in part by reflection, what the nation really

364 RUSSIA

required. Whenever the infiltration of Western ideas
threatened to swamp the national individuality, the Auto-
cratic Power intervened and averted the danger by timely
precautions. Something of the kind may be observed, he
believes, at present, when the Liberals are clamouring for
extreme democratic institutions; but the Autocratic Power
is on the alert, and will as usual do what is necessary.

With the efforts of the Zemstvo in this direction, and
with the activity of the Zemstvo generally, the Prince has
little sympathy, partly because the institution is in the hands
of the Liberals and is guided by their unpractical ideas, and
partly because it enables some ambitious outsiders to acquire
the influence in local affairs which ought to be exercised by
the old-established noble families of the district. What he
would like to see is an enlightened, influential gentry w^ork-
ing in conjunction with the Autocratic Power for the good
of the country ; but he recognises that his ideal has little
prospect of being realised.

The Prince belongs to the highest rank of the Russian
Noblesse. If we wish to get an idea of the low^est rank,
we can find in the neighbourhood a number of poor,
uneducated nobles, who live in small, squalid houses, and
are not easily to be distinguished from peasants. In other
parts of the country we might find men in this condition
bearing the title of prince ! This is the natural result of
the Russian law of inheritance, which does not recognise
the principle of primogeniture with regard to titles and
estates.

CHAPTER XXIII

SOCIAL CLASSES

In the preceding pages I have repeatedly used the expression
"social classes," and probably more than once the reader
has felt inclined to ask, What are social classes in the
Russian sense of the term ? It may be well, therefore, before
going farther, to answer this question.

If the question were put to a Russian it is not at all
unlikely that he would reply somewhat in this fashion : "In
Russia there are no social classes, and there never have
been any. That fact constitutes one of the most striking
peculiarities of her historical development, and one of the
surest foundations of her future greatness. We know
nothing, and have never known anything, of those class
distinctions and class enmities which in Western Europe
have often rudely shaken society in past times, and imperil
its existence in the future."

This statement will not be readily accepted by the
traveller who visits Russia with no preconceived ideas and
forms his opinions from his own observations. To him it
seems that class distinctions form one of the most prominent
characteristics of Russian society. In a few days he learns
to distinguish the various classes by their outward appear-
ance. He notices perhaps nothing peculiar in the nobles,
because they dress in the ordinary European fashion, but
he easily recognises the burly, bearded merchant in black
cloth cap and long, shiny, double-breasted coat ; the priest
with his uncut hair and flowing robes; the peasant with his
full, fair beard and unsavoury, greasy sheepskin. Meeting
everywhere those well-marked types, he naturally assumes
that Russian society is composed of exclusive castes; and
this first impression will be fully confirmed by a glance at
the Code. On examining that monumental work, he finds
that an entire volume — and by no means the smallest — is

365

366

RUSSIA

devoted to the rights and obHgations of the various classes.
From this he concludes that the classes have a legal as well
as an actual existence. To make assurance doubly sure he
turns to the latest statistics, and there he finds the following
table : —

Nobles and officials

i"5

per cent

Clergy

'5

Merchants ...

'5

Burghers ...

io"7

Peasants

77'i

Cossacks

23

Miscellaneous

74

Armed with these materials, the traveller goes to his
Russian friends who have assured him that their country
knows nothing of class distinctions. He is confident of
being able to convince them that they have been labouring
under a strange delusion, but he will be disappointed. They
will tell him that these laws and statistics prove nothing,
and that the categories therein mentioned are mere adminis-
trative fictions.

This apparent contradiction is to be explained by the
equivocal meaning of the Russian terms Sosloviya and
Sostoyaniya, which are commonly translated "social classes."
If by these terms are meant "castes" in the Oriental sense,
then it may be confidently asserted that such do not exist
in Russia. Between the nobles, the clergy, the burghers,
and the peasants there are no distinctions of race and no
impassable barriers. The peasant often becomes a merchant,
and there are many cases on record of peasants and sons
of parish priests becoming nobles. Until very recently the
parish clergy composed, as we have seen, a peculiar and
exclusive class, with many of the characteristics of a caste ;
but this has been changed, and it may now be said that in
Russia there are no castes in the Oriental sense.

If the word Sosloviya be taken to mean an organised
political unit with an esprit de corps and a clearly conceived
political aim, it may likewise be admitted that there are
none in Russia. Among the subjects of the Tsar political

WELL-MARKED SOCIAL TYPES 367

life is still in its infancy, and political parties are only
beginning to be formed.

On the other hand, to say that social classes have never
existed in Russia, and that the categories which appear in
the legislation and in the official statistics are mere adminis-
trative fictions, is a piece of gross exaggeration.

From the very beginning of Russian history we can
detect unmistakably the existence of social classes, such as
the princes, the Boydrs, or armed followers of the princes,
the peasantry, the slaves, and Various others; and one of
the oldest documents which we possess — the "Russian
Right " {Russkaya Pravda) of the Grand Prince Yaroslav
(1019-1054) — contains irrefragable proof, in the penalties
attached to various crimes, that these classes were formally
recognised by the legislation. Since that time they have
frequently changed their character, but they have never at
any period ceased to exist.

In ancient times, when there was very little administrative
regulation, the classes had perhaps no clearly defined
boundaries, and the peculiarities which distinguished them
from each other were actual rather than legal — lying in the
mode of life and social position rather than in peculiar
obligations and privileges. But as the Autocratic Power
developed and strove to transform the nation into a State
with a highly centralised administration, the legal element
in the social distinctions became more and more prominent.
For financial and other purposes the people had to be divided
into various categories. The actual distinctions were of
course taken as the basis of the legal classification, but the
classifying had more than a merely formal significance.
The necessity of clearly defining the different groups entailed
the necessity of elevating and strengthening the barriers
which already existed between them, and the difficulty
of passing from one group to another was thereby in-
creased.

In this work of classification Peter the Great especially
distinguished himself. With his insatiable passion for
regulation, he raised formidable barriers between the different
categories, and defined the obligations of each with micro-
scopic minuteness. After his death the work was carried

368 RUSSIA

on in the same spirit, and tlie tendency reached its climax
in the reign of Nicholas I., when the number of students
to be received in the universities was determined by Imperial
ukaz !

In the reign of Catherine a new element was introduced
into the official conception of social classes. Down to her
time the Government had thought merely of class obliga-
tions; under the influence of Western ideas she introduced
the conception of class rights. She wished, as we have seen,
to have in her Empire a noblesse and a tiers-etat like those
w^hich existed in France, and for this purpose she granted,
first to the Dvorydnstvo and afterwards to the towns, an
Imperial Charter, or Bill of Rights. Succeeding Sovereigns
have acted in the same spirit, and the Code now confers
on each class numerous privileges as well as numerous
obligations.

Thus, we see, the oft-repeated assertion that the Russian
social classes are simply artificial categories created by the
legislature is to a certain extent true, but is by no means
accurate. The social groups, such as peasants, landed pro-
prietors, and the like, came into existence in Russia, as in
other countries, by the simple force of circumstances. The
legislature merely recognised and developed the social dis-
tinctions which already existed. The legal status, obliga-
tions, and rights of each group were minutely defined and
regulated, and legal barriers were added to the actual barriers
which separated the groups from each other.

What is peculiar in the historical development of Russia
is this : until lately she remained an almost exclusively
agricultural Empire with abundance of unoccupied land.
Her history presents, therefore, few of those conflicts which
result from the variety of social conditions and the intensified
struggle for existence. Certain social groups were, indeed,
formed in the course of time, but they were never allowed
to fight out their own battles. The irresistible Autocratic
Power kept them always in check and fashioned them into
whatever form it thought proper, defining minutely and
carefully their obligations, their rights, their mutual rela-
tions, and their respective positions in the political organisa-
tion. Hence we find in the history of Russia almost no

POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS 3(>9

trace of those class hatreds which appear so conspicuously
in the history of Western Europe.*

The practical consequence of all this is that in Russia
at the present day there is very little caste spirit or caste
prejudice. Within half a dozen years after the emancipation
of the serfs, proprietors and peasants, forgetting apparently
their old relationship of master and serf, were working
amicably together in the new local administration, and not
a few' similar curious facts might be cited. The confident
anticipation of many Russians that their country will one
day enjoy political life without political parties is, if not a
contradiction in terms, at least a Utopian absurdity; but
we may be sure that the Russian political parties of the
future will be very different from those which exist in
Germany, France, and England.

Meanwhile, let us see how the country has been governed
without political parties and without political life in the
West-European sense of the term. This will form the
subject of the next chapter.

* This is, I believe, the true explanation of an important fact, which the
Slavophils endeavoured to explain by an ill-authenticated legend (vide supra,
p. 172).

CHAPTER XXIV

THE IMPERIAL ADMINISTRATION AND THE OFFICIALS

My administrative studies were begun in Novgorod. One
of my reasons for spending a winter in that provincial capital
was that I might study the provincial administration, and
as soon as I had made the acquaintance of the leading
officials I explained to them the object I had in view. With
the kindly bonhomie which distinguishes the Russian
educated classes, they all volunteered to give me every
assistance in their power, but some of them, on mature
reflection, evidently saw reason to check their first generous
impulse. Among these was the Vice-Governor, a gentleman
of German origin, and therefore more inclined to be pedantic
than a genuine Russian. When I called on him one evening
and reminded him of his friendly offer, I found to my
surprise that he had in the meantime changed his mind.
Instead of answering my first simple inquiry, he stared at
me fixedly, as if for the purpose of detecting some covert,
malicious design, and then, putting on an air of official
dignity, informed me that as I had not been authorised by
the Minister to make these investigations, he could not assist
me, and would certainly not allow me to examine the
archives.

This was not encouraging, but it did not prevent me
from applying to the Governor, and I found him a man of
a very different stamp. Delighted to meet a foreigner who
seemed anxious to study seriously in an unbiased frame of
mind the institutions of his much-maligned native country,
he willingly explained to me the mechanism of the adminis-
tration which he directed and controlled, and kindly placed
at my disposal the books and documents in which I could
find the historical and practical information which I required.
This friendly attitude of his Excellency towards me soon
became generally known in the town, and from that moment

370

THE RISE OF BUREAUCRACY 371

my difficulties were at an end. The minor officials no longer
hesitated to initiate me into the mysteries of their respective
departments, and at last even the Vice-Governor threw off
his reserve and followed the example of his colleagues. The
elementary information thus acquired I had afterwards
abundant opportunities of completing by observation and
study in other parts of the Empire, and I now propose to
communicate to the reader a few of the more general results.

The gigantic administrative machine which holds together
all the various parts of the vast Empire has been gradually
created by successive generations, but we may say roughly
that it was first designed and constructed by Peter the Great.
Before his time the country was governed in a rude, primitive
fashion. The Grand Princes of Moscow^ in subduing their
rivals and annexing the surrounding principalities, merely
cleared the ground for a great homogeneous State. Wily,
practical politicians, rather than statesmen of the doctrinaire
type, they never dreamed of introducing uniformity and
symmetry into the administration as a whole. They
developed the ancient institutions so far as these were useful
and consistent with the exercise of autocratic power, and
made only such alterations as practical necessity demanded.
And these necessary alterations were more frequently local
than general. Special decisions, instructions to particular
officials, and charters for particular communes or proprietors,
were much more common than general legislative measures.

In short, the old Muscovite Tsars practised a hand-to-
mouth policy, destroying whatever caused temporary in-
convenience, and giving little heed to what did not force
itself upon their attention. Hence, under their rule the
administration presented not only territorial peculiarities,
but also an ill-assorted combination of different systems in
the same district — a conglomeration of institutions belonging
to different epochs, like a fleet composed of triremes, three-
deckers, and ironclads.

This irregular system, or rather want of system, seemed
highly unsatisfactory to the logical mind of Peter the
Great, and he conceived the grand design of sweeping it
away, and putting in its place a symmetrical bureaucratic
machine. It is scarcely necessary to say that this magnificent

372 RUSSIA

project, so foreign to the traditional ideas and customs of
the people, was not easily realised. Imagine a man, without
technical knowledge, without skilled workmen, without good
tools, and with no better material than soft, crumbling sand-
stone, endeavouring to build a palace on a marsh ! The
undertaking would seem to reasonable minds utterly absurd,
and yet it must be admitted that Peter's project was scarcely
more feasible. He had neither technical knowledge, nor the
requisite materials, nor a firm foundation to build on. With
his usual Titanic energy he demolished the old structure,
but his attempts to construct were little more than a series
of failures. In his numerous ukazes he has left us a graphic
description of his efforts, and it is at once instructive and
pathetic to watch the great worker toiling indefatigably at
his self-imposed task. His instruments are constantly break-
ing in his hands. The foundations of the building are
continually giving way, and the lower tiers crumbling under
the superincumbent weight. Now and then a whole section
is found to be unsuitable, and is ruthlessly pulled down, or
falls of its own accord. And yet the builder toils on, with
a perseverance and an energy of purpose that compel
admiration, frankly confessing his mistakes and failures,
and patiently seeking the means of remedying them, never
allowing a word of despondency to escape him, and never
despairing of ultimate success. And at length death comes,
and the mighty builder is snatched away suddenly in the
midst of his unfinished labours, bequeathing to his successors
the task of carrying on the great work.

None of these successors possessed Peter's genius and
energy — with the exception perhaps of Catherine II. — but
they were all compelled by the force of circumstances to
adopt his plans. A return to the old rough-and-ready rule
of the local Voyevods was impossible. As the Autocratic
Power became more and more imbued with Western ideas,
it felt more and more the need of new means for carrying
them out, and accordingly it strove to systematise and
centralise the administration.

In this change we may perceive a certain analogy with
the history of the French administration from the reign of
Philippe le Bel to that of Louis XIV. In both countries

A SLAVOPHIL'S VIEW 373

we see the central power bringing the local administrative
organs more and more under its control, till at last it succeeds
in creating a thoroughly centralised bureaucratic organisa-
tion. But under this superficial resemblance lie profound
differences. The French kings had to struggle with pro-
vincial sovereignties and feudal rights, and when they had
annihilated this opposition, they easily found materials with
which to build up the bureaucratic structure. The Russian
sovereigns, on the contrary, met with no such opposition,
but they had great difficulty in finding bureaucratic material
amongst their uneducated, undisciplined subjects, notwith-
standing the numerous schools and colleges which were
founded and maintained simply for the purpose of preparing
men for the public service.

The administration was thus brought much nearer to the
West-European ideal, but some people have grave doubts
as to whether it became thereby better adapted to the practical
wants of the people for whom it was created. On this point,
a well-known Slavophil once made to me some remarks
which are worthy of being recorded. "You have observed,"
he said, "that till very recently there was in Russia an
enormous amount of official peculation, extortion, and mis-
government of every kind, that the courts of law were dens
of iniquity, that the people often committed perjury, and
much more of the same sort, and it must be admitted that
all this has not yet entirely disappeared. But what does it
prove? That the Russian people are morally inferior to
the German? Not at all. It simply proves that the German
system of administration, which was forced upon the Russians
without their consent, was utterly unsuited to their nature. If
a young growing bov be compelled to wear very tight boots,
he will probably burst them, and the ugly rents will doubt-
less produce an unfavourable impression on the passers-by ;
but surely it is better that the boots should burst than that
the feet should be deformed. Now, the Russian people was
compelled to put on not only tight boots, but also a tight
jacket, and, being young and vigorous, it burst them.
Narrow-minded, pedantic Germans can neither understand
nor provide for the wants of the broad Slavonic nature."

From the time of Peter the Great down to the beginning

374 RUSSIA

of the present century the Russian administration was a
magnificent specimen of paternal, would-be beneficent
despotism, working through a complicated system of highly
centralised bureaucracy. Let me briefly describe the struc-
ture as depicted in the Imperial Code of Laws, previous to
the creation of the Duma.

At the top of the pyramid stands the Emperor, "the
Autocratic monarch," as Peter the Great described him,
"who has to give an account of his acts to no one on earth,
but has power and authority to rule his States and lands
as a Christian sovereign according to his own will and
judgment." Immediately below his Majesty we see the
Council of State, the Committee of Ministers, and the Senate,
which represent respectively the legislative, the administra-
tive, and the judicial power. At the first glance an English-
man might imagine that the Council of State is a kind of
Parliament, and the Committee of Ministers a cabinet in
our sense of the term, but in reality both institutions are
simply incarnations of the Autocratic Power. Though the
Council is entrusted with many important functions — such
as discussing Bills, criticising the annual budget, declaring
war and concluding peace — it has merely a consultative
character, and the Emperor is not bound by its decisions.
The Committee is not at all a cabinet as we understand the
word. The Ministers are directly and individually respon-
sible to the Emperor, and therefore the Committee has no
common responsibility or other cohesive force. As to the
Senate, it has descended from its high estate. It was
originally entrusted with the supreme power during the
absence or minority of the monarch, and was intended to
exercise a controlling influence in all sections of the adminis-
tration, but now its activity is restricted to judicial matters,
and it is little more than a supreme court of appeal.

Immediately below these three institutions stand the
Ministries, ten in number. They are the central points, in
which converge the various kinds of territorial administra-
tion, and from which radiates the Imperial will all over
the Empire.

For the purpose of territorial administration Russia
Proper — that is to say, European Russia, exclusive of

TERRITORIAL ADMINISTRATION 375

Poland, the Baltic Provinces, Finland and the Caucasus —
is divided into forty-nine provinces or "Governments"
(gubernii), and each Government is subdivided into Districts
(uyecdy). The average area of a province is about the size
of Portugal, but some provinces are as small as Belgium,
whilst one has nearly thirty times the area of that little
kingdom. The population, however, does not correspond
to the amount of territory. In the largest province, that of
Archangel, there are only about 438,000 inhabitants, whilst
more than a dozen of the smaller ones have each over three
millions. The districts likewise vary greatly in size. Some
are smaller than Oxfordshire or Buckingham, and others
are bigger than the whole of the United Kingdom.

Over each province is placed a Governor, who is assisted
in his duties by a Vice-Governor and a small council.
According to the legislation of Catherine II., which still
appears in the Code and has only been partially repealed,
the Governor is termed "the stew-ard of the province," and
is entrusted with so many and such delicate duties, that in
order to obtain qualified men for the post, it would be neces-
sary to realise the great Empress's design of creating, by
education, "a new race of people." Down to the time of
the Crimean War the Governors understood the term
"stewards " in a very literal sense, and ruled in a most
arbitrary, high-handed style, often exercising an important
influence on the civil and criminal tribunals. These exten-
sive and vaguely defined powers have now been very much
curtailed, partly by positive legislation, and partly by
increased publicity and improved means of communication.
All judicial matters have been placed theoretically beyond
the Governor's control, and many of his former functions
are now fulfilled by the Zemstvo— the organ of local self-
government created by Alexander II. in 1866. Besides this,
all ordinary current affairs are regulated by an already big
and ever-growing body of instructions, in the form of
Imperial orders and ministerial circulars, and as soon as
anything not provided for by the instructions happens to
occur, the Minister is consulted through the post-oflice or
by telegraph.

Even w^ithin the sphere of their lawful authority the

376 RUSSIA

Governors have now a certain respect for public opinion,
and occasionally a very wholesome dread of casual news-
paper correspondents. Thus the men who were formerly
described by the satirists as "little satraps" have sunk to
the level of subordinate officials. I can confidently say that
many (I believe the great majority) of them are honest,
upright men, who are perhaps not endowed with any unusual
administrative capacities, but who perform their duties faith-
fully according to their lights. If any representatives of the
old "satraps" still exist, they must be sought for in the
outlying Asiatic provinces.

Independent of the Governor, who is the local repre-
sentative of the Ministry of the Interior, are a number of
resident officials, who represent the other ministries, and each
of them has a bureau, with the requisite number of assistants,
secretaries, and scribes.

To keep this vast and complex bureaucratic machine in
motion it is necessary to have a large and well-drilled army
of officials. These are drawn chiefly from the ranks of the
Noblesse and the Clergy, and form a peculiar social class
called Tchinovniks, or men with tchins. As the tchin plays
an important part in Russia, not only in the official world,
but also to some extent in social life, it may be well to explain
its significance.

All offices, civil and military, are, according to a scheme
invented by Peter the Great, arranged in fourteen classes or
ranks, and to each class or rank a particular name is attached.
As promotion is supposed to be given according to personal
merit, a man who enters the public service for the first time
must, whatever be his social position, begin in the lower
ranks, and work his way upwards. Educational certificates
may exempt him from the necessity of passing through the
lowest classes, and the Imperial will may disregard the
restrictions laid down by law, but as a general rule a man
must begin at or near the bottom of the official ladder, and
he must remain on each step a certain specified time. The
step on which he is for the moment standing, or, in other
words, the official rank or tchin which he possesses, deter-
mines what offices he is competent to hold. Thus rank of
tchin is a necessary condition for receiving an appointment,

OFFICIAL TITLES 377

but it does not designate any actual office, and the names
of the different ranks are extremely apt to mislead a
foreigner.

We must always bear this in mind when we meet with
those imposing titles which Russian tourists sometimes put
on their visiting cards, such as "Conseiller de Cour,"
"Conseiller d'Etat," "Conseiller priv^ de S.M. I'Empereur
de toutes les Russies." It would be uncharitable to suppose
that these titles are used with the intention of misleading,
but that they do sometimes mislead there cannot be the least
doubt. I shall never forget the look of intense disgust which
I once saw on the face of an American who had invited to
dinner a "Conseiller de Cour," on the assumption that he
would have a Court dignitary as his guest, and who casually
discovered that the personage in question was simply an
insignificant official in one of the public offices. No doubt
other people have had similar experiences. The unwary
foreigner who has heard that there is in Russia a very
important institution called the "Conseil d'fitat," naturally
supposes that a "Conseiller d'Etat" is a member of that
venerable body; and if he meets "Son Excellence le Con-
seiller priv6," he is pretty sure to assume — especially if the
word "actuel " has been affixed — that he sees before him a
real living member of the Russian Privy Council. When
to the title is added, "de S.M. I'Empereur de toutes les
Russies," a boundless field is opened up to the non-Russian
imagination. In reality these titles are not nearly so import-
ant as they seem. The soi-disant "Conseiller de Cour" has
probably nothing to do with the Court. The Conseiller
d'Etat is so far from being a member of the Conseil d'Etat
that he cannot possibly become a member till he receives a
higher tchin* As to the Privy Councillor, it is sufficient
to say that the Privy Council, which had a very odious
reputation in its lifetime, died more than a century ago, and
has not since been resuscitated. The explanation of these
anomalies is to be found in the fact that the Russian tchins,
like the German honorary titles — Hofrath, Staatsrath,
Geheimrath — of which they are a literal translation, indicate

* In Russian the two words are quite different ; the Council is called
Gosudarstvenny Sovet, and the title Stdtski Sovetnik.

378 RUSSIA

not actual office, but simply honorary official rank. Formerly
the appointment to an office generally depended on the
tchin; now there is a tendency to reverse the old order of
things and make the tchin depend upon the office actually
held.

The reader of practical mind who is in the habit of con-
sidering results rather than forms and formalities desires
probably no further description of the Russian bureaucracy,
but wishes to know simply how it works in practice. What
has it done for Russia in the past, and what is it doing
in the present ?

At the present day, when faith in despotic civilisers and
paternal government has been rudely shaken, and the advan-
tages of a free, spontaneous national development are fully
recognised, centralised bureaucracies have everywhere fallen
into bad odour. In Russia the dislike to them is particularly
strong, because it has there something more than a purely
theoretical basis. The recollection of the reign of Nicholas I.,
with its stern military regime, and minute, pedantic formal-
ism, makes many Russians condemn in no measured terms
the administration under which they live, and most English-
men will feel inclined to endorse this condemnation. Before
passing sentence, however, we ought to know that the system
has at least an historical justification, and we must not allow
our love of constitutional liberty and local self-government
to blind us to the distinction between theoretical and
historical possibility. What seems to political philosophers
abstractly the best possible government may be utterly in-
applicable in certain concrete cases. We need not attempt
to decide whether it is better for humanity that Russia should
exist as a nation, but we may boldly assert that without a
strongly centralised administration Russia would never have
become one of the great European Powers. Until compara-
tively recent times the part of the world which is known
as the Russian Empire was a conglomeration of independent
or semi-independent political units, animated with centrifugal
as well as centripetal forces ; and even at the present day
it is far from being a compact homogeneous State. It was
the autocratic power, with the centralised administration as
its necessary complement, that first created Russia, then

DIFFICULTIES OF ADMINISTRATION 379

saved her from dismemberment and political annihilation,
and ultimately secured for her a place among European
nations by introducing Western civilisation.

Whilst thus recognising clearly that autocracy and a
strongly centralised administration were necessary first for
the creation and afterwards for the preservation of national
independence, we must not shut our eyes to the evil conse-
quences which resulted from this unfortunate necessity. It
was in the nature of things that the Government, aiming at
the realisation of designs which its subjects neither sym-
pathised with nor clearly understood, should have become
separated from the nation ; and the reckless haste and violence
with which it attempted to carry out its schemes aroused a
spirit of positive opposition among the masses. A consider-
able section of the people long looked on the reforming Tsars
as incarnations of the spirit of evil, and the Tsars in their
turn looked upon the people as raw material for the realisa-
tion of their political designs. This peculiar relation between
the nation and the Government has given the key-note to the
whole system of administration. The Government has
always treated the people as minors, incapable of under-
standing its political aims, and not fully competent to look
after their own local affairs. The officials have naturally
acted in the same spirit. Looking for direction and appro-
bation merely to their superiors, they have systematically
treated those over whom they were placed as a conquered
or inferior race. The State has thus come to be regarded
as an abstract entity, with interests entirely different from
those of the human beings composing it; and in all matters
in which State interests are supposed to be involved, the
rights of individuals are ruthlessly sacrificed.

If we remember that the difficulties of centralised adminis-
tration must be in direct proportion to the extent and
territorial variety of the country to be governed, we may
readily understand how slowly and imperfectly the adminis-
trative machine necessarily works in Russia. The whole
of the vast region stretching from the Polar Ocean to the
Caspian, and from the shores of the Baltic to the confines
of the Celestial Empire, is administered from St. Petersburg.
The genuine bureaucrat has a wholesome dread of formal

38o RUSSIA

responsibility, and generally tries to avoid it by taking all
matters out of the hands of his subordinates, and passing
them on to the higher authorities. As soon, therefore, as
affairs are caught up by the administrative machine they
begin to ascend, and probably arrive some day at the cabinet
of the Minister. Thus the Ministries are flooded with papers
— many of the most trivial import — from all parts of the
Empire; and the higher officials, e\'^n if they had the eyes
of an Argus and the hands of a Briareus, could not possibly
fulfil conscientiously the duties imposed on them. In reality
the Russian administrators of the higher ranks recall neither
Argus nor Briareus. They commonly show neither an
extensive nor a profound knowledge of the country which
they are supposed to govern, and seem always to have a
fair amount of leisure time at their disposal.

Besides the unavoidable evils of excessive centralisation,
Russia has had to suffer much from the jobbery, venality,
and extortion of the officials. When Peter the Great one
day proposed to hang every man who should steal as much
as would buy a rope, his Procurator-General frankly replied
that if his Majesty put his project into execution there would
be no officials left. "We all steal," added the worthy official ;
"the only difference is that some of us steal larger amounts
and more openly than others." Since these words were
spoken nearly two centuries have passed, and during all
that time Russia has been steadily making progress, but
until the accession of Alexander II. in 1855 little change
took place in the moral character of the administration.
Some people still living can remember the time when they
could have repeated, without much exaggeration, the con-
fession of Peter's Procurator-General.

To appreciate aright this ugly phenomenon we must
distinguish two kinds of venality. On the one hand there
was the habit of exacting what are vulgarly termed "tips"
for services performed, and on the other there were the
various kinds of positive dishonesty. Though it might not
be always easy to draw a clear line between the two cate-
gories, the distinction was fully recognised in the moral
consciousness of the time, and many an official who regularly
received "sinless revenues " {hezgreshniye dokhodi), as the

OFFICIAL DELINQUENCIES 381

tips were sometimes called, would have been very indignant
had he been stigmatised as a dishonest man. The practice
was, in fact, universal, and could be, to a certain extent,
justified by the smallness of the official salaries. In some
departments there was a recognised tariff. The "brandy
farmers," for example, who worked the State Monopoly for
the manufacture and sale of alcoholic liquors, paid regularly
a fixed sum to every official, from the Governor to the police-
man, according to his rank. I knew of one case where an
official, on receiving a larger sum than was customary, con-
scientiously handed back the change ! The other and more
heinous offences were by no means so common, but were
still fearfully frequent. Many high officials and important
dignitaries were known to receive large revenues, to which
the term "sinless " could not by any means be applied, and
yet they retained their position, and were received in society
with respectful deference.

The Sovereigns w^ere well aware of the abuses, and
strove more or less to root them out, but the success which
attended their efforts does not give us a very exalted idea
of the practical omnipotence of autocracy. In a centralised
bureaucratic administration, in which each official is to a
certain extent responsible for the sins of his subordinates,
it is always extremely difficult to bring an official culprit to
justice, for he is sure to be protected by his superiors; and
when the superiors are themselves habitually guilty of mal-
practices, the culprit is quite safe from exposure and punish-
ment. An energetic Tsar might do much towards exposing
and punishing offenders if he could venture to call in public
opinion to his assistance, but in reality the Head of the State
is very apt to become a party to the system of hushing up
official delinquencies. He is himself the first official in the
realm, and he knows that the abuse of power by a subordi-
nate has a tendency to produce hostility towards the fountain
of all official pow'er. Frequent punishment of officials might,
it is thought, diminish public respect for the Government,
and undermine that social discipline w^hich is necessary for
the public tranquillity. It is therefore considered expedient
to give to official delinquencies as little publicity as possible.

Besides this, strange as it may seem, a Government

382 RUSSIA

which rests on the arbitrary will of a single individual is,
notwithstanding occasional outbursts of severity, much less
systematically severe than authority founded on free public
opinion. When delinquencies occur in very high places the
Tsar is almost sure to display a leniency approaching to
tenderness. If it be necessary to make a sacrifice to justice,
the sacrificial operation is made as painless as may be, and
illustrious scapegoats are not allowed to die of starvation in
the wilderness — the wilderness being generally Paris or the
Riviera. This fact may seem strange to those who are in
the habit of associating autocracy with Neapolitan dungeons
and the mines of Siberia, but it is not difficult to explain.
No individual, even though he be the Autocrat of all the
Russias, can so case himself in the armour of official dignity
as to be completely proof against personal influences. The
severity of autocrats is reserved for political offenders, against
whom they naturally harbour a feeling of personal resent-
ment. It is so much easier for us to be lenient and charitable
towards a man who sins against public morality, than
towards one who sins against ourselves !

In justice to the bureaucratic reformers in Russia, it must
be said that they have preferred prevention to cure. Refrain-
ing from all Draconian legislation, they have put their faith
in a system of ingenious checks and a complicated formal
procedure. When we examine the complicated formalities
and labyrinthine procedure by which the administration is
controlled, our first impression is that administrative abuses
must be almost impossible. Every possible act of every
official seems to have been foreseen, and every possible
outlet from the narrow path of honesty seems to have been
carefully walled up. As the English reader has probably no
conception of formal procedure in a highly centralised
bureaucracy, let me give, by way of illustration, an instance
which accidentally came to my knowledge.

In the residence of a Governor-General one of the stoves
is in need of repairs. An ordinary mortal may assume that
a man with the rank of Governor-General may be trusted
to expend a few shillings conscientiously, and that conse-
quently his Excellency will at once order the repairs to be
made and the payment to be put down among the petty

COMPLICATED PROCEDURE 383

expenses. To the bureaucratic mind the case appears in a
very different light. All possible contingencies must be
carefully provided for. As a Governor-General may possibly
be possessed with a mania for making useless alterations,
the necessity for the repairs ought to be verified ; and as
wisdom and honesty are more likely to reside in an assembly
than in an individual, it is well to entrust the verification to
a council. A council of three or four members accordingly
certifies that the repairs are necessary. This is pretty strong
authority, but it is not enough. Councils are composed of
mere human beings, liable to error and subject to be
intimidated by a Governor-General. It is prudent, therefore,
to demand that the decision of the council be confirmed by
the Procureur, who is directly subordinated to the Minister
of Justice. When this double confirmation has been
obtained, an architect examines the stove, and makes an
estimate. But it would be dangerous to give carte blanche
to an architect, and therefore the estimate has to be con-
firmed, first by the aforesaid council and afterwards by the
Procureur.

When all these formalities — which require sixteen days
and ten sheets of paper — have been duly observed, his
Excellency is informed that the contemplated repairs will
cost two roubles and forty kopeks, or about five shillings
of our money. Even here the formalities do not stop, for
the Government must have the assurance that the architect
who made the estimate and superintended the repairs has not
been guilty of negligence. A second architect is therefore
sent to examine the work, and his report, like the estimate,
requires to be confirmed by the council and the Procureur.
The whole correspondence lasts thirty days, and requires no
less than thirty sheets of paper ! Had the person who
desired the repairs been not a Governor-General but an
ordinary mortal, it is impossible to say how long the pro-
cedure might have lasted.*

* In fairness, I feel constrained to add that incidents of this kind occasion-
ally occur — or at least occurred as late as iS86 — in our Indian Administration.
I remember an instance of a pane of glass being broken in the \'icproy's bed-
room in the Viceregal Lodge at Simla, and it would have required nearly a
week, if the official procedure had been scrupulously observed, to have it
replaced by the Public Works Department.

384 RUSSIA

It might naturally be supposed that this circuitous and
complicated method, with its registers, ledgers, and minutes
of proceedings, must at least prevent pilfering ; but this
d priori conclusion has been emphatically belied by experi-
ence. Every new ingenious device had merely the effect of
producing a still more ingenious means of evading it. The
system did not restrain those who wished to pilfer, and it
had a deleterious effect on honest officials, by making them
feel that the Government reposed no confidence in them.
Besides this, it produced among all officials, honest and
dishonest alike, the habit of systematic falsification. As it
was impossible for even the most pedantic of men — and
pedantry, be it remarked, is a rare quality among Russians
— to fulfil conscientiously all the prescribed formalities, it
became customary to observe the forms merely on paper.
Officials certified facts which they never dreamed of examin-
ing, and secretaries gravely wrote the minutes of meetings
that had never been held ! Thus, in the case above cited,
the repairs were in reality begun and ended long before the
architect was officially authorised to begin the work. The
comedy was nevertheless gravely played out to the end, so
that anyone afterwards revising the documents would have
found that everything had been done in perfect order.

Perhaps the most ingenious means for preventing ad-
ministrative abuses was devised by the Emperor Nicholas I.
Fully aware that he was regularly and systematically deceived
by the ordinary officials, he formed a body of well-paid
officers, called the "Gendarmerie," who were scattered over
the country, and ordered to report directly to his Majesty
whatever seemed to them worthy of attention. Bureaucratic
minds considered this an admirable expedient; and the Tsar
confidently expected that he would, by means of these official
observers, who had no interest in concealing the truth, be
able to know everything, and to correct all official abuses.
In reality the institution produced few good results, and in
some respects had a very pernicious influence. Though
picked men and provided with good salaries, these officers
were all more or less permeated with the prevailing spirit.
They could not but feel that they were regarded as spies
and informers — a humiliating conviction, little calculated to

THE GENDARMERIE 385

develop that feeling of self-respect which is the main founda-
tion of uprightness — and that all their efforts could do but
little good. They were, in fact, in pretty much the same
position as Peter's Procurator-General, and, with true
Russian bonhomie, they disliked ruining individuals who
were no worse than the majority of their fellows. Besides
this, according to the received code of official morality,
insubordination was a more heinous sin than dishonesty,
and political offences were regarded as the blackest of all.
The gendarmerie officers shut their eyes, therefore, to the
prevailing abuses, which were believed to be incurable, and
directed their attention to real or imaginary political delin-
quencies. Oppression and extortion remained unnoticed,
whilst an incautious word or a foolish joke at the expense
of the Government was too often magnified into an act of
high treason.

This force still exists under a modified form. Tow^ards
the close of the reign of Alexander II. (1880), when Count
Loris M^likof, with the sanction and approval of his august
master, was preparing to introduce a system of liberal
political reforms, it was intended to abolish the gendarmerie
as an organ of political espionage, and accordingly the
direction of it was transferred from the so-called Third
Section of his Imperial Majesty's Chancery to the Ministry
of the Interior; but when the benevolent monarch was, a
few months afterwards, assassinated by revolutionists, the
project was naturally abandoned, and the Corps of Gen-
darmes, while remaining under the Minister of the Interior,
recovered a good deal of its previous authoritv. It serves
now as a kind of supplement to the ordinary police, and is
generally employed for matters in which secrecy is required.
Unfortunately, it is not bound by those legal restrictions
which protect the public against the arbitrary will of the
ordinary authorities. In addition to its regular duties it has
a vaguely defined roving commission to watch and arrest
all persons who seem to it in any way dangerous or siispectes,
and such persons may be kept in confinement for an
indefinite time, or be exiled to some distant and inhospitable
part of the Empire, without undergoing a regular trial. It
is, in short, the ordinary instrument for punishing political

N

386 RUSSIA

dreamers, suppressing secret societies, counteracting political
agitations, and in general executing the extra-legal orders
of the Government.

My relations with this anomalous branch of the adminis-
tration were somewhat peculiar. After my experience with
the Vice-Governor of Novgorod I determined to place myself
above suspicion, and accordingly applied to the "Chef des
Gendarmes " for some kind of official document which would
prove to all officials with whom I might come in contact
that I had no illicit designs. My request was granted, and
I was furnished with the necessary documents ; but I soon
found that in seeking to avoid Scylla I had fallen into
Charybdis. In calming official suspicions, I inadvertently
aroused suspicions of another kind. The documents proving
that I enjoyed the protection of the Government made many
people suspect that I was an emissary of the gendarmerie,
and greatly impeded me in my efforts to collect information
from private sources. As the private w^ere for me more
important than the official sources of information, I refrained
from asking for a renewal of the protection, and wandered
about the country as an ordinary unprotected traveller. For
some time I had no cause to regret this decision. I knew
that I was pretty closely watched, and that my letters were
occasionally opened in the post office, but I was subjected
to no further inconvenience. At last, when I had nearly
forgotten all about Scylla and Charybdis, I one night
unexpectedly ran upon the former, and, to my astonishment,
found myself formally arrested ! The incident happened in
this wise.

I had been visiting Austria and Servia, and after a short
absence, returned to Russia through Moldavia. On arriving
at the Pruth, which there formed the frontier, I found an
officer of gendarmerie, whose duty it w^as to examine the
passports of all passers-by. Though my passport was com-
pletely en regie, having been duly vise by the British and
Russian Consuls at Galatz, this gentleman subjected me to
a searching examination regarding my past life, actual
occupation, and intentions for the future. On learning that
I had been for more than two years travelling in Russia
at my own expense, for the simple purpose of collecting

ARREST AND RELEASE 387

miscellaneous information, he looked incredulous, and
seemed to have some doubts as to my being a genuine
British subject; but when my statements were confirmed
by my travelling companion, a Russian friend who carried
awe-inspiring credentials, he countersigned my passport,
and allowed us to depart. The inspection of our luggage
by the custom-house officers was soon got over; and as we
drove off to the neighbouring village, where we were to
spend the night, we congratulated ourselves on having
escaped for some time from all contact with the official
world. In this we were "reckoning without the host." As
the clock struck twelve that night I was roused by a loud
knocking at my door, and after a good deal of parley, during
which someone proposed to effect an entrance by force, I
drew the bolt. The officer who had signed my passport
entered, and said, in a stiff, official tone, "I must request
you to remain here for twenty-four hours."

Not a little astonished by this announcement, I ventured
to inquire the reason for this strange request.

"That is my business," was the laconic reply.

"Perhaps it is; still you must, on mature consideration,
admit that I too have some interest in the matter. To my
extreme regret I cannot comply with your request, and must
leave at sunrise."

"You shall not leave. Give me your passport."

"Unless detained by force, I shall start at four o'clock;
and as I wish to get some sleep before that time, I must
request you instantly to retire. You had the right to stop
me at the frontier, but you have no right to come and
disturb me in this fashion, and I shall certainly report you.
My passport I shall give to none but a regular officer of
police."

Here followed a long discussion on the rights, privileges,
and general character of the gendarmerie, during which
my opponent gradually laid aside his dictatorial tone, and
endeavoured to convince me that the honourable body to
which he belonged was merely an ordinary branch of the
administration. Though evidently irritated, he never, I
must say, overstepped the bounds of politeness, and seemed
only half convinced that he was justified in interfering with

388 RUSSIA

my movements. When he found that he could not induce
me to give up my passport he withdrew, and I again lay
down to rest ; but in about half an hour I was again dis-
turbed. This time an officer of regular police entered, and
demanded my "papers." To my inquiries as to the reason
of all this disturbance, he replied, in a very polite, apologetic
way, that he knew nothing about the reason, but he had
received orders to arrest me, and must obey. To him I
delivered my passport, on condition that I should receive a
written receipt, and should be allowed to telegraph to the
British ambassador in St. Petersburg.

Early next morning I telegraphed to the ambassador,
and waited impatiently all day for a reply. I was allowed
to walk about the village and the immediate vicinity, but
of this permission I did not make much use. The village
population was entirely Jewish, and Jews in that part of the
v/orld have a wonderful capacity for obtaining and spread-
ing intelligence. By the early morning there was probably
not a man, woman, or child in the place who had not heard
of my arrest, and many of them felt a not unnatural curiosity
to see the malefactor who had been caught by the police.
To be stared at as a malefactor is not very agreeable, so I
preferred to remain in my room, where, in the company of
my friend, who kindly remained with me and made small
jokes about the boasted liberty of British subjects, I spent
the time pleasantly enough. The most disagreeable part
of the affair was the uncertainty as to how many days, weeks,
or months I might be detained, and on this point the police-
officer would not even hazard a conjecture.

The detention came to an end sooner than I expected.
On the following day — that is to say, about thirty-six hours
after the nocturnal visit — the police officer brought me my
passport, and at the same time a telegram from the British
Embassy informed me that the central authorities had
ordered my release. On my afterwards pertinaciously
requesting an explanation of the unceremonious treatment to
which I had been subjected, the Minister for Foreign Affairs
declared that the authorities expected a person of my name
to cross the frontier about that time with a quantity of false
bank-notes, and that I had been arrested by mistake. I

REMEDY FOR ABUSES 389

must confess that this explanation, though official, seemed
to me more ingenious than satisfactory, but I was obliged
to accept it for what it was worth. At a later period I had
again the misfortune to attract the attention of the secret
police, but I reserve that incident till I come to speak of
my relations with the revolutionists.

From all I have seen and heard of the gendarmerie I am
disposed to believe that the officers are for the most part
polite, well-educated men, who seek to fulfil their disagree-
able duties in as inoffensive a way as possible. It must,
however, be admitted that they are generally regarded with
suspicion and dislike, even by those people who fear the
attempts at revolutionary propaganda which it is the special
duty of the gendarmerie to discover and suppress. Nor
need this surprise us. Though very many people believe
in the necessity of capital punishment, there are few
who do not feel a decided aversion to the public
executioner.

The only effectual remedy for administrative abuses lies
in placing the administration under public control. This
has been abundantly proved in Russia. All the efforts of
the Tsars during many generations to check the evil by
means of ingenious bureaucratic devices proved utterly
fruitless. Even the iron will and gigantic energy of
Nicholas I. were insufficient for the task. But when, after
the Crimean War, there was a great moral awakening, and
the Tsar called the people to his assistance, the stubborn,
deep-rooted evils immediately disappeared. For a time
venality and extortion were unknown, and since that period
they have never been able to regain their old force.

At the present moment it cannot be said that the adminis-
tration is immaculate, but it is incomparably purer than it
was in old times. Though public opinion is no longer so
powerful as it was in the early sixties, it is still strong
enough to repress many malpractices which in the time
of Nicholas I. and his predecessors were too frequent to
attract attention. On this subject I shall have more to say
hereafter.

If administrative abuses are rife in the Empire of the
Tsars, it is not from any want of carefully prepared laws.

390 RUSSIA

In no country in the world, perhaps, is the legislation more
voluminous, and in theory, not only the officials, but even
the Tsar himself, must obey the laws he has sanctioned, like
the meanest of his subjects. This is one of those cases, not
infrequent in Russia, in which theory differs somewhat from
practice. In real life the Emperor may at any moment over-
ride the law by means of what is called a Supreme Command
(vysotchdishiye povcleniye), and a minister may "interpret "
a law in any way he pleases by means of a circular. This
is a frequent cause of complaint even among" those who wish
to uphold the Autocratic Power. In their opinion law-
respecting autocracy wielded by a strong Tsar is an excellent
institution for Russia; it is arbitrary autocracy wielded by
irresponsible ministers that they object to.

As Englishmen may have some difficulty in imagining
how laws can come into being without a Parliament or
Legislative Chamber of some sort, I shall explain briefly
how they were manufactured by the Russian bureaucratic
machine before the creation of the Duma in 1906.

When a minister considered that some institution in his
branch of the service required to be reformed, he began by
submitting to the Emperor a formal report on the matter.
If the Emperor agreed with his minister as to the necessity
for reform, he ordered a Commission to be appointed for
the purpose of considering the subject and preparing a
definitive legislative project. The Commission set to w^ork
in what seemed a very thorough way. It first studied the
history of the institution in Russia from the earliest times
downwards — or rather, it listened to an essay on the subject,
especially prepared for the occasion by some official who
had a taste for historical studies and possessed an agreeable
literary style. The next step — to use a phrase which often
occurs in the minutes of such Commissions — consisted in
"shedding the light of science on the question" (prolW na
dyelo svet nauhi). This important operation was performed
by preparing a memorial containing the history of similar
institutions in foreign countries, and an elaborate exposition
of niunorous theories held by French and German philos-
ophical jurists. In these memorials it was often considered
necessary to include every European country except Turkey;

HOW LAWS WERE MADE 391

and sometimes the small German States and principal
Swiss cantons were treated separately.

To illustrate the character of these wonderful productions,
let me give an example. From a pile of such papers lying
before me I take one almost at random. It is a memorial
relating to a proposed reform of benevolent institutions.
First I find a philosophical disquisition on benevolence in
general ; next, some remarks on the Talmud and the Koran ;
then a reference to the treatment of paupers in Athens after
the Peloponnesian War, and in Rome under the emperors;
then some vague observations on the Middle Ages, with a
quotation that was evidently intended to be Latin ; lastly
comes an account of the poor-laws of modern times, in which
I meet with "the Anglo-Saxon domination," King Egbert,
King Ethelred; "a remarkable book of Icelandic laws, called
Hragas"; Sweden and Norway, France, Holland, Belgium,
Prussia, and nearly all the minor German States. The most
wonderful thing is that all this mass of historical informa-
tion, extending from the Talmud to the most recent legisla-
tion of Hesse-Darmstadt, is compressed into twenty-one
octavo pages ! The doctrinal part of the memorandum is
not less rich. Many respected names from the literature of
Germany, France, and England are forcibly dragged in ;
and the general conclusion drawn from this mass of raw,
undigested materials is believed to be "the latest results of
science."

Does the reader suspect that I have here chosen an
extremely exceptional case ? If so, let us take the next paper
in the file. It refers to a project of law regarding imprison-
ment for debt. On the first page I find references to "the
Salic laws of the fifth century," and the "Assises de
Jerusalem, a.d. 1099." That, I think, will suffice. Let us
pass, then, to the next step.

When the quintessence of human wisdom and experience
had thus been extracted, the Commission considered how
the valuable product might be applied to Russia, so as to
harmonise with the existing general conditions and local
peculiarities. For a man of practical mind this was, of
course, the most interesting and most important part of
the operation, but from Russian legislators it received

392 RUSSIA

comparatively little attention. Very often have I turned to
this section of official papers in order to obtain information
regarding the actual state of the country, and in every case
I was grievously disappointed. Vague general phrases,
founded on a 'priori reasoning rather than on observation,
together with a few statistical tables — which the cautious
investigator should avoid as he would an ambuscade — were
too often all that was to be found. Through the thin veil of
pseudo-erudition the real facts were clear enough. These
philosophical legislators, who spent their lives in the official
atmosphere of St. Petersburg, knew as much about Russia
as the genuine cockney knows about Greater Britain, and
in this part of their work they derived no assistance from
the learned German treatises which supplied an unlimited
amount of historical facts and philosophical speculation.

From the Commission the project passed to the Council
of State, where it was certainly examined and criticised, and
perhaps modified, but was not likely to be improved from
the practical point of view, because the members of the
Council were merely ci-devant members of similar Com-
missions, hardened by a few additional years of official
routine. The Council was, in fact, an assembly of tchin-
ovniks who knew little of the practical, everyday wants of
the unofficial classes. No merchant, manufacturer, or farmer
ever entered its sacred precincts, so that its bureaucratic
serenity was rarely disturbed by practical objections. It is
not surprising, therefore, that it occasionally passed laws
which were found at once to be absolutely unworkable.

From the Council of State the Bill was taken to the
Emperor, and he generally began by examining the signa-
tures. The "Ayes" were in one column and the "Noes"
in another. If his Majesty was not specially acquainted
with the matter — and he could not possibly be acquainted
with all the matters submitted to him — he usually signed
with the majority, or on the side where he saw the names
of officials in whose judgment he had special confidence;
but if he had strong views of his own, he placed his signa-
ture in whichever column he thought fit, and it outweighed
the signatures of any number of Councillors. In this way
a small minority might be transformed into a majority.

THE EMPEROR'S SIGNATURE 393

When the important question, for example, as to how far
Latin and Greek should be taught in the higher schools
was considered by the Council, only two members signed
in favour of classical education, which was excessively
unpopular at the moment; but the Emperor Alexander III.,
disregarding public opinion and the advice of his Council-
lors, threw his signature into the lighter scale, and the
classicists were victorious.

CHAPTER XXV

MOSCOW AND THE SLAVOPHILS

In the last chapter, as in many of the preceding ones, the
reader must have observed that at one moment there was
a sudden break, almost a solution of continuity, in Russian
national life. The Tsardom of Muscovy, with its ancient
Oriental costumes and Byzantine traditions, unexpectedly
disappears, and the Russian Empire, clad in modern garb
and animated with the spirit of modern progress, steps
forward uninvited into European history. Of the older
civilisation, if civilisation it can be called, very little survived
the political transformation, and that little is generally
supposed to hover ghostlike around Kief and Moscow. To
one or other of these towns, therefore, the student who
desires to learn something of genuine old Russian life,
untainted by foreign influences, naturally wends his way.

For my part I thought first of settling for a time in
Kief, the oldest and most revered of Russian cities, where
missionaries from Byzantium first planted Christianity on
Russian soil, and where thousands of pilgrims still assemble
yearly from far and near, to prostrate themselves before the
Holy Icons in the churches and to venerate the relics of
the blessed saints and martyrs in the catacombs of the great
monastery. I soon discovered, however, that Kief, though
it represents in a certain sense the Byzantine traditions so
dear to the Russian people, is not a good point of observa-
tion for studying the Russian character. It was early
exposed to the ravages of the nomadic tribes of the Steppe,
and when it was liberated from those incursions it was seized
by the Poles and Lithuanians, and remained for centuries
under their domination. Only in comparatively recent times
did it begin to recover its Russian character — a university
having been created there for that purpose after the Polish
insurrection of 1830. Even now the process of Russification

394

GREAT-RUSSIANS 395

is far from complete, and the Russian elements in the
population are far from being pure in the nationalist
sense.

The city and the surrounding- country are, in fact, Little-
Russian rather than Great-Russian, and between these two
sections of the population there are profound differences —
differences of language, costume, traditions, popular songs,
proverbs, folk-lore, domestic arrangements, mode of life,
and communal organisation. In these and other respects
the Little-Russians, South-Russians, Ruthenes, or Khokhly,
as they are variously designated, differ from the Great-
Russians of the North, who form the predominant factor in
the Empire, and who have given to that wonderful structure
its essential characteristics. Indeed, if I did not fear to
rufHe unnecessarily the patriotic susceptibilities of my Great-
Russian friends who have a pet theory on this subject, I
should say that we have here two distinct nationalities,
farther apart from each other than the English and the
Scotch. The differences are due, I believe, partly to ethno-
graphical peculiarities and partly to historic conditions.

As it was the energetic Great-Russian empire-builders
and not the half-dreamy, half-astute, sympathetic descend-
ants of the Free Cossacks that I wanted to study, I soon
abandoned my idea of settling in the Holy City on the
Dnieper, and chose Moscow as my point of observation ;
and here, during several years, I spent regularly some of
the winter months.

The first few weeks of my stay in the ancient capital of
the Tsars were spent in the ordinary manner of intelligent
tourists. After mastering the contents of a guide-book I
carefully inspected all the officially recognised objects of
interest — the Kremlin, with its picturesque towers and six
centuries of historical associations; the Cathedrals, contain-
ing the venerated tombs of martyrs, saints, and Tsars; the
old churches, with their quaint, archaic, richly decorated
Icons; the "Patriarchs' Treasury," rich in jewelled ecclesias-
tical vestments and vessels of silver and gold ; the ancient
and the modern palace; the Ethnological Museum showing
the costumes and physiognomy of all the various races in
the Empire ; the archaeological collections, containing many

396 RUSSIA

objects that recall the barbaric splendour of old Muscovy;
the picture-gallery, with Ivanof's gigantic picture, in which
patriotic Russian critics discover occult merits that place it
above anything that Western Europe has yet produced !
Of course I climbed up to the top of the tall belfry which
rejoices in the name of "Ivan the Great," and looked down
on the "gilded domes"* of the churches, and bright green
roofs of the houses, and, far away beyond these, the gently
undulating country with the "Sparrow Hills," from which
Napoleon is said, in cicerone language, to have "gazed upon
the doomed city." Occasionally I walked about the bazaars
in the hope of finding interesting specimens of genuine
native art-industry, and was urgently invited to purchase
every conceivable article which I did not want. At midday
or in the evening I visited the most noted traktirs, and made
the acquaintance of the caviare, sturgeons, sterlets, and other
native delicacies for which these institutions are famous —
deafened the while by the deep tones of the colossal barrel-
organ, out of all proportion to the size of the room ; and in
order to see how the common people spent their evenings
I looked in at some of the more modest traktirs, and gazed
with wonder, not unmixed with fear, at the enormous
quantity of weak tea which the inmates consumed.

Since these first weeks of my sojourn in Moscow forty
years have passed, and many of my early impressions have
been blurred by time, but one scene remains deeply graven
on my memory. It was Easter Eve, and I had gone with
a friend to the Kremlin to witness the customary religious
ceremonies. Though the rain was falling heavily, an
immense number of people had assembled in and around
the Cathedral of the Assumption. The crowd was of the
most mixed kind. There stood the patient bearded muzhik
in his well-worn sheepskin; the big, burly, self-satisfied
merchant in his long black glossy kaftan; the noble with
fashionable great-coat and umbrella; thinly clad old women
shivering in the cold, and bright-eyed young damsels with
their warm cloaks drawn closely round them; old men with

* Allowancp must be made here for poetical licence. In reality, very few
of thf» domes are gilt. The great majority of them are painted green, like the
roofs of the houses.

EASTER EVE 397

long beard, wallet, and pilgrim's staff; and mischievous
urchins with faces for the moment preternaturally demure.
Each right hand, of old and young alike, held a lighted
taper, and these myriads of flickering little flames produced
a curious illumination, giving to the surrounding buildings
a weird picturesqueness which they do not possess in broad
daylight. All stood patiently waiting for the announcement
of the glad tidings : "He is risen ! "

As midnight approached, the hum of voices gradually
ceased, till, as the clock struck twelve, the deep-toned bell
on " Ivan the Great " began to toll, and in answer to this
signal all the bells in Moscow suddenly sent forth a merry
peal. Each bell — and their name is legion — seemed frantic-
ally desirous of drowning its neighbour's voice, the solemn
boom of the great one overhead mingling curiously with
the sharp, fussy "ting-a-ting-ting" of diminutive rivals. If
demons dwell in Moscow and dislike bell-ringing, as is
generally supposed, then there must have been at that
moment a general stampede of the powers of darkness such
as is described by Milton in his poem on the Nativity; and
as if this deafening din were not enough, big guns were
fired in rapid succession from a battery of artillery close at
hand ! The noise seemed to stimulate the religious enthu-
siasm, and the general excitement had a wonderful effect on
a Russian friend who accompanied me. When in his normal
condition that gentleman was a quiet, undemonstrative
person, devoted to science, an ardent adherent of Western
civilisation in general and of Darwinism in particular, and
a thorough sceptic with regard to all forms of religious
belief; but the influence of the surroundings was too much
for his philosophical equanimity. For a moment his ortho-
dox Moscovite soul aw'oke from its sceptical, cosmopolitan
lethargy. After crossing himself repeatedly — an act of
devotion which I had never before seen him perform— he
grasped my arm, and pointing to the crow-d, said in an
exultant tone of voice, "Look there! There is a sight that
you can see nowhere but in the ' White-stone City.' * Are
not the Russians a religious people?"

• Belokdmcnny, meaning " of white stone," is one of the popular names of
Moscow

398 RUSSIA

To this unexpected question I gave a monosyllabic
assent, and refrained from disturbing my friend's new-born
enthusiasm by any discordant note ; but I must confess
that this sudden outburst of deafening noise and the dazzling
light aroused in my heretical breast feelings of a warlike
rather than a religious kind. For a moment I could imagine
myself in ancient Moscow, and could fancy the people being
called out to repel a IMongol horde already thundering at the
gates !

The service lasted two or three hours, and terminated
with the curious ceremony of blessing the Easter cakes,
which were ranged — each one with a lighted taper stuck in
it— in long rows outside the cathedral. A not less curious
custom practised at this season is that of exchanging kisses
of fraternal love. Theoretically one ought to embrace and
be embraced by all present — indicating thereby that all are
brethren in Christ — but the refinements of modern life have
made innovations in the practice, and most people confine
their salutations to their friends and acquaintances. When
two friends meet during that night or on the following day,
the one says, "Christos voskres ! " ("Christ hath risen!");
and the other replies, "Vo istine voskres!" ("In truth He
hath risen ! "). They then kiss each other three times on
the right and left cheek alternately. The custom is more
or less observed in all classes of society, and the Emperor
himself conforms to it.

This reminds me of an anecdote which is related of the
Emperor Nicholas I., tending to show that he was not so
devoid of kindly human feelings as his imperial and
imperious exterior suggested. On coming out of his cabinet
one Easter morning, he addressed to the soldier who was
mounting guard at the door the ordinary words of saluta-
tion, "Christ hath risen!" and received, instead of the
ordinary reply, a flat contradiction — "Not at all, your
Imperial Majesty ! " Astounded by such an unexpected
answer — for no one ventured to dissent from Nicholas even
in the most guarded and respectful terms — he instantly
demanded an explanation. The soldier, trembling at his
own audacity, explained that he was a Jew, and could not
conscientiously admit the fact of the resurrection. This

CORONATION OF NICHOLAS II. 399

boldness for conscience' sake so pleased the Tsar that he
gave the man a handsome Easter present.

Quarter of a century after the Easter Eve above mentioned
— or, to be quite accurate, on the 26th of May, 1896 — I again
find myself in the Kremlin on the occasion of a great
religious ceremony — a ceremony which shows that the
"White-stone City" on the Moskva is still in some respects
the capital of Holy Russia. This time my post of observa-
tion is inside the cathedral, which is artistically draped with
purple hangings, and crowded with the most distinguished
personages of the Empire, all arrayed in gorgeous apparel
— Grand Dukes and Grand Duchesses, Imperial Highnesses
and High Excellencies, Metropolitans and Archbishops,
Senators and Councillors of State, Generals and Court
dignitaries. In the centre of the building, on a high, richly
decorated platform, sits the Emperor with his Imperial
Consort, and his mother, the widowed Consort of Alexander
III. Though Nicholas II. has not the colossal stature which
has distinguished so many of the Romanovs, he is well
built, holds himself erect, and shows a quiet dignity in his
movements ; while his face, which resembles that of his
cousin King George V., wears a kindly, sympathetic
expression. The Empress looks even more than usually
beautiful, in a low dress cut in the ancient fashion, her thick
brown hair, dressed most simply without jewellery or other
ornaments, falling in two long ringlets over her white
shoulders. For the moment, her attire is much simpler
than that of the Empress Dowager, who wears a diamond
crown, and a great mantle of gold brocade, lined and edged
with ermine, the long train displaying in bright-coloured
embroidery the heraldic double-headed eagle of the Imperial
arms.

Each of these august personages sits on a throne of
curious workmanship, consecrated by ancient historic
associations. That of the Emperor, the gift of a Shah of
Persia to Ivan the Terrible, and commonly called the Throne
of Tsar Michael, the founder of the Romanov dynasty, is
covered with gold plaques, and studded with hundreds of
big, roughly cut precious stones, mostly rubies, emeralds,
and turquoises. Of still older date is the throne of the young

400 RUSSIA

Empress, for it was given by Pope Paul II. to Tsar Ivan III.,
grandfather of the Terrible, on the occasion of his marriage
with a niece of the last Byzantine Emperor. More recent
but not less curious is that of the Empress Dowager. It
is the throne of Tsar Alexis, the father of Peter the Great,
covered with countless and priceless diamonds, rubies, and
pearls, and surmounted by an Imperial eagle of solid gold,
together with golden statuettes of St. Peter and St. Nicholas
the miracle-worker. Over each throne is a canopy of purple
velvet fringed with gold, out of which rise stately plumes
representing the national colours.

Their Majesties have come hither, in accordance with
time-honoured custom, to be crowned in this old Cathedral
of the Assumption, the central point of the Kremlin, within
a stone-throw of the Cathedral of the Archangel Michael,
in which lie the remains of the old Grand Dukes and Tsars
of Muscovy. Already the Emperor has read aloud, in a
clear, unfaltering voice, from a richly bound parchment
folio, held by the Metropolitan of St. Petersburg, the
Orthodox creed; and his Eminence, after invoking on his
Majesty the blessing of the Holy Spirit, has performed the
mystic rite of placing his hands in the form of a cross on
the Imperial forehead. Thus all is ready for the most
important part of the solemn ceremony. Standing erect, the
Emperor doffs his small diadem and puts on with his own
hands the great diamond crown, offered respectfully by the
Metropolitan; then he reseats himself on his throne, holding
in his right hand the Sceptre and in his left the Orb of
Dominion. After sitting thus in state for a few minutes, he
stands up and proceeds to crown his august spouse kneeling
before him. First he touches her forehead with his own
crown, and then he places on her head a smaller one, which
is immediately attached to her hair by four ladies-in-waiting,
dressed in the old Muscovite Court costume. At the same
time her Majesty is invested with a mantle of heavy gold
brocade, similar to those of the Emperor and Empress
Dowager, lined and bordered with ermine.

Thus crowned and robed, their Majesties sit in state,
while a proto-deacon reads, in a loud, stentorian voice, the
long list of sonorous hereditary titles belonging of right to

EXQUISITE MUSIC 401

the Imperator and Autocrat of All the Russias, and the choir
chants a prayer invoking long life and happiness — "Many-
years ! Many years ! Many years ! " — on the high and
mighty possessor of the titles aforesaid. And now begins
the Mass, celebrated with a pomp and magnificence that can
be witnessed only once or twice in a generation. Sixty
gorgeously robed ecclesiastical dignitaries of the highest
orders fulfil their various functions with due solemnity and
unction ; but the magnificence of the vestments and the
pomp of the ceremonial are soon forgotten in the exquisite
solemnising music, as the deep double-bass tones of the adult
singers in the background — carefully selected for the occasion
in all parts of the Empire — peal forth as from a great organ,
and blend marvellously with the clear, soft, gentle notes of
the red-robed chorister boys in front of the Iconostase.

Listening with intense emotion, I involuntarily recall to
mind Fra Angelico's pictures of angelic choirs, and cannot
help thinking that the pious old Florentine, whose soul was
attuned to all that was sacred and beautiful, must have heard
in imagination such music as this. So strong is the impres-
sion that the subsequent details of the long ceremony,
including the anointing with the holy chrism, fail to engrave
themselves on my memory. One incident, however, remains;
and if it had happened in an earlier and more superstitious
age it would doubtless have been chronicled as an omen full
of significance. As the Emperor is on the point of descend-
ing from the dais, duly crowned and anointed, a straggling
ray of sunshine steals through one of the narrow upper
windows and, traversing the dimly lit edifice, falls full on
the Imperial crown, lighting up for a moment the great mass
of diamonds with a hundredfold brilliance.

In a detailed account of the Coronation which I wrote on
leaving the Kremlin, I find the following : "The magnificent
ceremony is at an end, and now Nicholas II. is the crowned
Emperor and anointed Autocrat of All the Russias. May
the cares of Empire rest lightly on him ! That must be the
earnest prayer of every loyal subject and every sincere well-
wisher, for of all living mortals he is perhaps the one who
has been entrusted by Providence with the greatest power
and the greatest responsibilities." In writing those words I

402 RUSSIA

did not foresee how heavy his responsibilities would one day
weigh upon him, when his Empire would be sorely tried by
foreign war and internal discontent.

One more of these old Moscow reminiscences and I have
done. A day or two after the Coronation I saw the Khodin-
skoye Polye, a great plain in the outskirts of Moscow, strewn
with hundreds of corpses ! During the previous night
enormous crowds from the city and the surrounding districts
had collected here in order to receive at sunrise, by the
Tsar's command, a little memento of the coronation cere-
mony, in the form of a packet containing a metal cup and
a few eatables; and as day dawned, in their anxiety to get
near the row of booths from which the distribution was to
be made, about two thousand had been crushed to death. It
was a sight more horrible than a battlefield, because among
the dead were a large proportion of women and children,
terribly mutilated in the struggle. Altogether, "a sight to
shudder at, not to see ! "

To return to the remark of my friend in the Kremlin on
Easter Eve, the Russians in general, and the Moscovites in
particular, as the quintessence of all that is Russian, are
certainly a religious people, but their piety sometimes finds
modes of expression which rather shock the Protestant mind.
As an instance of these, I may mention the domiciliary
visits of the Iberian Madonna. This celebrated Icon, for
reasons which I have never heard satisfactorily explained,
is held in peculiar veneration by the Moscovites, and
occupies in popular estimation a position analogous to the
tutelary deities of ancient pagan cities. Thus when
Napoleon was about to enter the city in 1812, the populace
clamorously called upon the Metropolitan to take the
Madonna, and lead them out armed with hatchets against
the hosts of the infidel ; and when the Tsar visits Moscow,
he generally drives straight from the railway station to the
little chapel where the Icon resides — near one of the entrances
to the Kremlin — and there offers up a short prayer. Every
Orthodox Russian, as he passes this chapel, uncovers and
crosses himself, and wlienevcr a religious service is performed
in it there is always a considerable group of worshippers.

Some of the richer inhabitants, however, are not content

THE IBERIAN ICON 403

with thus performing their devotions in public before the
Icon. Tliey Hke to have the holy picture from time to time
in their houses, and the ecclesiastical authorities think fit to
humour this strange fancy. Accordingly every morning the
Iberian Madonna may be seen driving about the city from
one house to another in a carriage and four ! The carriage
may be at once recognised, not from any peculiarity in its
structure, for it is an ordinary landau such as may be
obtained at livery stables, but by the fact that the coachman
sits bare-headed, and all the people in the street uncover and
cross themselves as it passes. Arrived at the house to which
it has been invited, the Icon is carried through all the rooms,
and in the principal apartment a short religious service is
performed before it. As it is being brought in or taken
away, female servants may sometimes be seen to kneel on
the floor so that it may be carried over them. During its
absence from its chapel it is replaced by a copy not easily
distinguishable from the original, and thus the devotions of
the faithful and the flow of pecuniary contributions do not
sufi"er interruption. These contributions, together with the
sums paid for the domiciliary visits, amount to a considerable
yearly sum, and go — if I am rightly informed — to swell the
revenues of the Metropolitan.

A single drive or stroll through Moscow will suffice to
convince the traveller, even if he knows nothing of Russian
history, that the city is not, like its modern rival on the
Neva, the artificial creation of a far-seeing, self-willed
autocrat, but rather a natural product which has grown up
slowly and been modified according to the constantly
changing wants of the population. A few of the streets have
been Europeanised — in all except the paving, which is every-
where execrably Asiatic — to suit the tastes of those who have
adopted European culture, but the great majority of them
still retain much of their ancient character and primitive
irregularity. As soon as we diverge from the principal
thoroughfares, we find one-storied houses — some of them
still of wood — which appear to have been transported bodily
from the country, with courtyard, garden, stables, and other
appurtenances. The w-hole is no doubt a little compressed,
for land has here a certain value, but the character is in no

404 RUSSIA

way changed, and we have some difficulty in believing that
we are not in tiie suburbs but near the centre of a great city.
There is nothing that can by any possibility be called street
architecture. Though there is unmistakable evidence of the
streets having been laid out according to a preconceived plan,
many of them show clearly that in their infancy they had a
wayward will of their own, and they still bend to the right
or left without any topographical justification.

The houses, too, display considerable individuality of
character, having evidently during the course of their con-
struction paid no attention to their neighbours. Hence we
find no regularly built terraces, crescents, or squares. There
is, it is true, a double circle of boulevards, but the houses
which flank them have none of that regularity which we
commonly associate with the term. Dilapidated buildings
which in West-European cities would hide themselves in
some narrow lane or back slum here stand composedly in the
face of day by the side of a palatial residence, without having
the least consciousness of the incongruity of their position,
just as the unsophisticated muzhik in his unsavoury sheep-
skin can stand in the midst of a crowd of well-dressed people
without feeling at all awkward or uncomfortable.

All this incongruity, however, is speedily disappearing.
Moscow has become the centre of a great network of rail-
ways, and the commercial and industrial capital of the
Empire, with a rapidly increasing population of about a
million and a half. The value of land and property is being
doubled and trebled, and building speculations, with the aid
of credit institutions of various kinds, are being carried on
with feverish rapidity. Well may the men of the old school
complain that the world is turned upside down, and regret
the old times of traditional somnolence and comfortable
routine ! Those good old times are gone now, never to
return. The ancient capital, which long gloried in its past
historical associations, now glories in its present commercial
prosperity, and looks forward with confidence to the future.
Even the Slavophils, the obstinate champions of the ultra-
Moscovite spirit, have changed with the times and descended
to the level of ordinary prosaic life. These men, who
formerly spent years in seeking to determine the place of

THE SLAVOPHILS 405

Moscow in the past and future history of humanity, have
— to their honour be it said — become in these latter days
town councillors, and have devoted much of their time to
devising ways and means of improving the drainage and
the street paving ! But I am anticipating in a most unjustifi-
able way. I ought first to tell the reader who the early
Slavophils were, and why they sought to correct the
commonly received conceptions of universal history.

The reader may have heard of the Slavophils as a set of
fanatics who, about the middle of last century, were wont
to go about in what they considered the ancient Russian
costume, who w^ore beards in defiance of Peter the Great's
celebrated ukaz and Nicholas L's clearly expressed wish
anent shaving, who gloried in Moscovite barbarism, and
had solemnly "sworn a feud" against European civilisation
and enlightenment. By the tourists of the time who visited
Moscow they were regarded as among the most noteworthy
lions of the place, and were commonly depicted in not very
flattering colours. At the beginning of the Crimean War
they were among the extreme Chauvinists who urged the
necessity of planting the Greek cross on the desecrated dome
of St. Sophia in Constantinople, and hoped to see the
Emperor proclaimed " Panslavonic Tsar " ; and after the
termination of the war they were frequently accused of invent-
ing Turkish atrocities, stirring up discontent among the
Slav subjects of the Sultan, and secretly plotting for the
overthrow of the Ottoman Empire. All this was known to
me before I went to Russia, and I had consequently invested
the Slavophils with a halo of romance. Shortly after my
arrival in St. Petersburg I heard something more which
tended to increase my interest in them — they had caused, I
was told, great trepidation in the highest official circles by
petitioning the Emperor to resuscitate a certain ancient insti-
tution, called a Zemski Sobor, which might be made to serve
the purposes of a Parliament ! This threw a new light upon
them ; under the disguise of archaeological Consers^atives
thev were evidently aiming at important Liberal reforms.

As a foreigner and a heretic, I expected a very cold and
distant reception from these uncompromising champions of
Russian nationality and the Orthodox faith ; but in this I

4o6 RUSSIA

was agreeably disappointed. By all of them I was received
in the most amiable and friendly way, and I soon discovered
that my preconceived ideas of them w-ere very far from the
truth. Instead of wild fanatics I found quiet, extremely
intelligent, highly educated gentlemen, speaking foreign
languages with ease and elegance, and deeply imbued with
that Western culture which they were commonly supposed
to despise. One of them, and not the least remarkable, had
been partly educated in Germany, and was the most
thoroughgoing Hegelian I have ever know^n. On the whole
I was very favourably impressed by them, and this first
impression was amply confirmed by subsequent experience
during several years of friendly intercourse. They always
showed themselves men of earnest character and strong
convictions, but they never said or did anything that could
justify the appellation of fanatics. Like all philosophical
theorists, they often allowed their logic to blind them to facts,
but their reasonings w^ere very plausible — so plausible,
indeed, that, had I been a Russian, they would have almost
persuaded me to be a Slavophil, at least during the time
they Were talking to me.

To understand their doctrine we must know something
of its origin and development.

The origin of the Slavophil sentiment, which must not
be confounded with the Slavophil doctrine, is to be sought
in the latter half of the seventeenth century, when the Tsars
of Muscovy were introducing innovations in Church and
State. These innovations were profoundly displeasing to
the people. A large portion of the lower classes, as I have
related in a previous chapter, sought refuge in Old Ritualism
or sectarianism, and imagined that Tsar Peter, who called
himself by the heretical title of " Imperator," was an emana-
tion of the Evil Principle. The nobles did not go quite so
far. They remained members of the official Church, and
restricted themselves to hinting that Peter was the son, not
of Satan, but of a German surgeon — a lineage which, accord-
ing to the conceptions of the time, was a little less objection-
able; but most of them were very hostile to the changes, and
complained bitterly of the new burdens which these changes
entailed. Under Peter's immediate successors, when not

THE SLAVOPHIL DOCTRINE 4^7

only the principles of administration but also many of the
administrators were German, their hostility greatly increased.
So long as the innovations appeared only in the official
activity of the Government, the patriotic, conservative spirit
was obliged to keep silence; but when the foreign influence
spread to the social life of the Court aristocracy, the oppo-
sition began to find a literary expression. In the time of
Catherine IL, when Gallomania was at its height in Court
circles, comedies and satirical journals ridiculed those who,
"blinded by some externally brilliant gifts of foreigners, not
only prefer foreign countries to their native land, but even
despise their fellow-countrymen, and think that a Russian
ought to borrow all — even personal character. As if Nature,
arranging all things with such wisdom, and bestowing on all
regions the gifts and customs which are appropriate to the
climate, had been so unjust as to refuse to the Russians a
character of their own ! As if she condemned them to
wander over all regions, and to adopt by bits the various
customs of various nations, in order to compose out of the
mixture a new character appropriate to no nation whatever ! "
Numerous passages of this kind might be quoted, attacking
the "monkeyism" and "parrotism" of those who indis-
criminately adopted foreign manners and customs — those

who

"Sauntered Europe round,
And gathered ev'ry vice in ev'ry ground."

Sometimes the terms and metaphors employed were more
forcible than refined. One satirical journal, for instance,
relates an amusing story about certain little Russian pigs
that went to foreign lands to enlighten their understanding,
and came back to their country full-grown swine. The
national pride was wounded by the thought that Russians
could be called "clever apes who feed on foreign intelli-
gence," and many writers, stung by such reproaches, fell
into the opposite extreme, discovering unheard-of excellences
in the Russian mind and character, and vociferously decry-
ing everything foreign in order to place these imagined
excellences in a stronger light by contrast. Even when they
recognised that their country was not quite so advanced in
civilisation as certain other nations, they congratulated

4o8 RUSSIA

themselves on the fact, and invented by way of justification
an ingenious theory, which was afterwards developed by the
Slavophils. "The nations of the West," they said, "began
to live before us, and are consequently more advanced than
we are ; but we have on that account no reason to envy them,
for we can profit by their errors, and avoid those deep-rooted
evils from which they are suffering. He who has just been
born is happier than he who is dying."

Thus, we see, a patriotic reaction against the introduction
of foreign institutions and the inordinate admiration of
foreign culture already existed in Russia in the eighteenth
century. It did not, however, take the form of a philosophical
theory till a much later period, when a similar movement
was going on in various countries of Western Europe.

After the overthrow of the great Napoleonic Empire a
reaction against cosmopolitanism took place in Germany
and a romantic enthusiasm for nationality spread over
Europe like an epidemic. Blind enthusiastic patriotism
became the fashionable sentiment of the time. Each nation
took to admiring itself complacently, to praising its own
character and achievements, and to idealising its historical
and mythical past. National peculiarities, "local colour,"
ancient customs, traditional superstitions — in short, every-
thing that a nation believed to be specially and exclusively
its own — now raised an enthusiasm similar to that which had
been formerly excited by cosmopolitan conceptions founded
on the law of Nature. The movement produced good and
evil results. In serious minds it led to a deep and con-
scientious study of history, national literature, popular
mythology, and the like; whilst in frivolous, inflammable
spirits it gave birth merely to a torrent of patriotic fervour
and rhetorical exaggeration. The Slavophils were the
Russian representatives of this nationalistic reaction, and
displayed both its serious and its frivolous elements.

Among the most important products of this movement
in Germany was the Hegelian theory of universal history.
According to Hegel's views, which were generally accepted
by those who occupied themselves with philosophical
questions, universal history was described as "Progress in
the consciousness of freedom " (Fortschritt im Bewusstsein

THEORY OF HISTORY 409

der Freiheil). In each period of the world's history, it was
explained, some one nation or race had been entrusted with
the high mission of enabHng the Absolute Reason, or
Weltgeist, to express itself in objective existence, while the
other nations and races had for the time no metaphysical
justification for their existence, and no higher duty than to
imitate slavishly the favoured rival in which the Weltgeist
had for the moment chosen to incorporate itself. The in-
carnation had taken place first in the Eastern Monarchies,
then in Greece, next in Rome, and lastly in the Germanic
race ; and it was generally assumed, if not openly asserted,
that this mystical Metempsychosis of the Absolute was now
at an end. The cycle of existence was complete. In the
Germanic peoples the Weltgeist had found its highest and
final expression.

Russians in general knew nothing about German
philosophy, and were consequently not in any way affected
by these ideas, but there was in Moscow a small group of
young men who ardently studied German literature and
metaphysics, and they were much shocked by Hegel's
views. Ever since the brilliant reign of Catherine II., who
had defeated the Turks and had dreamed of resuscitating
the Byzantine Empire, and especially since the memorable
events of 18 12-15, when Alexander I. appeared as the
liberator of enthralled Europe and the arbiter of her
destinies, Russians were firmly convinced that their country
was destined to play a most important part in human history.
Already the great Russian historian Karamzin had declared
that henceforth Clio must be silent, or accord to Russia a
prominent place in the history of the nations. Now, by the
Hegelian theory, the whole of the Slav race was left out
in the cold, with no high mission, with no new truths to
divulge, with nothing better to do, in fact, than to imitate
the Germans.

The patriotic philosophers of Moscow could not, of
course, adopt this view. Whilst accepting the fundamental
principles, they declared the theory to be incomplete. The
incompleteness lay in the assumption that humanitv had
already entered on the final stages of its development. The
Teutonic nations were perhaps for the moment the leaders

410 RUSSIA

in the march of civilisation, but there was no reason to
suppose that they would always retain that privileged
position. On the contrary, there were already symptoms
that their ascendancy was drawing to a close. "Western
Europe," it was said, "presents a strange, saddening
spectacle. Opinion struggles against opinion, power against
power, throne against throne. Science, Art, and Religion,
the three chief motors of social life, have lost their force.
We venture to make an assertion which to many at present
may seem strange, but which will be in a few years only
too evident : Western Europe is on the high road to ruin !
We Russians, on the contrary, are young and fresh, and
have taken no part in the crimes of Europe. We have a
great mission to fulfil. Our name is already inscribed on
the tablets of victory, and now we have to inscribe our spirit
in the history of the human mind. A higher kind of victory
— the victory of Science, Art, and Faith — awaits us on the
ruins of tottering Europe ! " *

This conclusion was supported by arguments drawn from
history — or, at least, what was believed to be history. The
European world was represented as being composed of two
hemispheres — the Eastern, or Graeco-Slavonic, on the one
hand, and the Western, or Roman Catholic and Protestant,
on the other. These two hemispheres, it was said, are
distinguished from each other by many fundamental charac-
teristics. In both of them Christianity formed originally
the basis of civilisation, but in the West it became distorted
and gave a false direction to the intellectual development.
By placing the logical reason of the learned above the
conscience of the whole Church, Roman Catholicism pro-
duced Protestantism, which proclaimed the right of private
judgment and consequently became split up into innumer-
able sects. The dry, logical spirit which was thus fostered
created a purely intellectual, one-sided philosophy, which
must end in pure scepticism, by blinding men to those great
truths which lie above the sphere of reasoning and logic.
The Graeco-Slavonic world, on the contrary, having accepted
Christianity not from Rome, but from Byzantium, received
pure Orthodoxy and true enlightenment, and was thus saved

• These words were written by Prince Od6evski.

"THE SLAVONIC NATURE" 411

alike from Papal tyranny and from Protestant freethinking.
Hence the Eastern Christians have preserved faithfully not
only the ancient dogmas, but also the ancient spirit of
Christianity — that spirit of pious humility, resignation, and
brotherly love which Christ taught by precept and example.
If they have not yet a philosophy, they will create one, and
it will far surpass all previous systems; for in the writings
of the Greek Fathers are to be found the germs of a broader,
a deeper, and a truer philosophy than the dry, meagre
rationalism of the West — a philosophy founded not on the
logical faculty alone, but on the broader basis of human
nature as a whole.

The fundamental characteristics of the Grseco-Slavonic
world — so runs the Slavophil theory — have been displayed
in the history of Russia. Throughout Western Christendom
the principles of indiviciual judgment and reckless individual
egotism have exhausted the social forces and brought society
to the verge of incurable anarchy and inevitable dissolution,
whereas the social and political history of Russia has been
harmonious and peaceful. It presents no struggles between
the different social classes, and no conflicts between Church
and State. All the factors have worked in unison, and the
development has been guided by the spirit of pure Ortho-
doxy. But in this harmonious picture there is one big, ugly
black spot — Peter, falsely styled "the Great," and his so-
called reforms. Instead of following the wise policy of
his ancestors, Peter rejected the national traditions and
principles, and applied to his country, which belonged to
the Eastern world, the principles of Western civilisation.
His reforms, conceived in a foreign spirit, and elaborated
by men who did not possess the national instincts, were
forced upon the nation against its will, and the result was
precisely what might have been expected. The "broad
Slavonic nature " could not be controlled by institutions
which had been invented by narrow-minded, pedantic
German bureaucrats, and, like another Samson, it pulled
down the building in which foreign legislators sought to
confine it.

The attempt to introduce foreign culture had a still worse
effect. The upper classes, charmed and dazzled by the glare

412 RUSSIA

and glitter of Western science, threw themselves impulsively
on the nev^ly found treasures, and thereby condemned them-
selves to moral slavery and intellectual sterility. Fortunately
— and herein lay one of the fundamental principles of the
Slavophil doctrine — the imported civilisation had not at all
infected the common people. Through all the changes
which the Administration and the Noblesse underwent the
peasantry preserved religiously in their hearts "the living
legacy of antiquity," the essence of Russian nationality, "a
clear spring welling up living waters, hidden and unknown,
but powerful." * To recover this lost legacy by studying the
character, customs, and institutions of the peasantry, to lead
the educated classes back to the path from which they had
strayed, and to re-establish that intellectual and moral unity
which had been disturbed by the foreign importations — such
was the task which the Slavophils proposed to themselves.

Deeply imbued with that romantic spirit which distorted
all the intellectual activity of the time, the Slavophils often
indulged in the wildest exaggerations, condemning every-
thing foreign and praising everything Russian. When in
this mood they saw in the history of the West nothing but
violence, slavery, and egotism, and in that of their own
country free-will, liberty, and peace. The fact that Russia
did not possess free political institutions was adduced as a
precious fruit of that spirit of Christian resignation and
self-sacrifice which places the Russian at such an immeasur-
able height above the proud, selfish European ; and because
Russia possessed few of the comforts and conveniences of
common life, the West was accused of having made comfort
its God !

We need not, however, dwell on these puerilities, which
only gained for their authors the reputation of being
ignorant, narrow-minded men, imbued with a hatred of
enlightenment and desirous of leading their country back
to its primitive barbarism. What the Slavophils really
condemned, at least in their calmer moments, was not
European culture, but the uncritical, indiscriminate adoption
of it by their countrymen. Their tirades against foreign

* This WAS one of the favourite themes of Khomiakov, the Slavophil poet
and theologian, father of Mr. Khomiakov, who was president of the Duuia.

SLAVOPHILS IN MOSCOW 4^3

culture must appear excusable when we remember that many
Russians of the upper ranks could speak and write French
more correctly than their native language, and that even
the great national poet Pushkin was not ashamed to confess
— what was not true, and a mere piece of affectation — that
"the language of Europe" was more familiar to him than
his mother-tongue !

The Slavophil doctrine, though it made a great noise
in the world, never found many adherents. The society of
St. Petersburg regarded it as one of those harmless provincial
eccentricities which are always to be found in Moscow. In
the modern capital, with its foreign name, its streets and
squares on the European model, its palaces and churches
in the Renaissance style, and its passionate love of every-
thing French, any attempt to resuscitate the old Boyaric
times would have been eminently ridiculous. Indeed,
hostility to St. Petersburg and to "the Petersburg period of
Russian history " is one of the characteristic traits of genuine
Slavophilism. In Moscow the doctrine found a more appro-
priate home. There the ancient churches, with the tombs
of Grand Princes and holy martyrs, the palace in which the
Tsars of Muscovy had lived, the Kremlin which had resisted
- — not always successfully — the attacks of savage Tartars and
heretical Poles, the venerable Icons that had many a time
protected the people from danger, the block of masonry from
which, on solemn occasions, the Tsar and the Patriarch had
addressed the assembled multitude — these, and a hundred
other monuments sanctified by tradition, have kept alive
in the popular memory some vague remembrance of the
olden time, and are still capable of awakening antiquarian
patriotism.

The inhabitants, too, have preserved something of the
old Muscovite character. Whilst successive sovereigns were
striving to make the country a progressive European empire,
Moscow remained the home of passive conservatism and an
asylum for the discontented, especially for the disappointed
aspirants to Imperial favour. Abandoned by the modern
Emperors, she could glory in her ancient Tsars. But even
the Moscovites were not prepared to accept the Slavophil
doctrine in the extreme form which it assumed, and were

414 RUSSIA

not a little perplexed by the eccentricities of those who
professed it. Plain, sensible people, though they might be
proud of being citizens of the ancient capital, and might
thoroughly enjoy a joke at the expense of St. Petersburg,
could not understand a little coterie of enthusiasts who
sought neither official rank nor lucrative official appoint-
ments, who slighted many of the conventionalities of the
higher classes to which by birth and education they belonged,
who loved to fraternise with the common people, and who
occasionally dressed in the national costume w-hich had been
discarded by the nobles since the time of Peter the Great.

The Slavophils thus remained merely a small literary
party, which probably did not count more than a dozen
members, but their influence was out of all proportion to
their numbers. They preached successfully the doctrine that
the historical development of Russia has been peculiar,
that her present social and political organisation is radically
different from that of the countries of Western Europe, and
that consequently the social and political evils from which
she suffers are not to be cured by the remedies which have
proved efficacious in France and Germany. These truths,
w'hich now appear commonplace, were formerly by no means
generally recognised, and the Slavophils deserve credit for
directing attention to them. Besides this, they helped to
awaken in the upper classes a lively sympathy with the poor,
oppressed, and despised peasantry. So long as the Emperor
Nicholas lived they had to confine themselves to a purely
literary activity; but during the great reforms initiated by
his successor, Alexander II., they descended into the arena
of practical politics, and played a most useful and honourable
part in the emancipation of the serfs. In the new local
self-government, too — the Zemstvo and the new municipal
institutions — they laboured energetically and to good pur-
pose. Of all this I shall have occasion to speak more fully
in future chapters.

But what of their Panslavist aspirations ? By their
theory they were constrained to pay attention to the Slav
race as a whole, but they were more Russian than Slav,
and more Moscovite than Russian. The Panslavist element
consequently occupied a secondary place in Slavophil

THE PANSLAVIST ELEMENT 4^5

doctrine. Though they did much to stimulate popular
sympathy with the Southern Slavs, and always cherished
the hope that the Serbs, Bulgarians, and cognate Slav
nationalities would one day throw off the bondage of the
German and the Turk, they never proposed any elaborate
project for the solution of the Eastern Question. So far as
I was able to gather from their conversation, they seemed
to favour the idea of a grand vSlavonic Confederation, in
which the hegemony would, of course, belong to Russia.
In ordinary times the only steps which they took for the
realisation of this idea consisted in contributing money for
schools and churches among the Slav population of Austria
and Turkey, and in educating young Bulgarians in Russia.
During the Cretan insurrection they sympathised warmly
with the insurgents as co-religionists, but afterw'ards —
especially during the crisis of the Eastern Question which
culminated in the Treaty of San Stefano and the Congress
of Berlin (1878) — their Hellenic sympathies cooled, because
the Greeks showed that they had political aspirations of
their own, inconsistent w'ith the designs of Russia, and that
they w'ere likely to be the rivals rather than the allies of the
Slavs in the struggle for the Sick Man's inheritance.

Since the time when I was living in Moscow in constant
intercourse with the leading Slavophils some five-and-thirty
years have passed, and of those with whom I spent so
many pleasant evenings, discussing the past history and
future destinies of the Slav races, not one remains alive.
All the great prophets of the old Slavophil doctrine — Yuri
Samdrin, Prince Tcherkaski, Ivan Aksakov, Koshel^v — have
departed without leaving behind them any genuine disciples.
The present generation of Moscovite frondeurs, who con-
tinue to rail against Western Europe and the pedantic
officialism of St. Petersburg, are of a more modern and less
academic type. Their philippics are directed not against
Peter the Great and his reforms, but rather against recent
Ministers of Foreign Affairs, who are thought to have shown
themselves too subservient to foreign Powers, and against
Count Witte, who, as Minister of Finance, "favoured the
introduction of foreign capital and enterprise, and sacrificed
to unhealthy industrial development the interests of the

4i6 RUSSIA

agricultural classes." These laments and diatribes find free
expression in private conversation and in the Press, but
they do not influence very deeply the policy of the Govern-
ment or the natural course of events; for the Ministry of
Foreign Affairs continues to cultivate friendly relations with
the Cabinets of the West, and Moscow is rapidly becoming,
by the force of economic conditions, the great industrial and
commercial centre of the Empire.

Perhaps I ought to say here a few words about a new
kind of Slavophilism, which has its headquarters in St.
Petersburg and differs somewhat from its Moscovite prede-
cessor. Unlike my old reactionary friends who held that
the greatness of Russia could be developed only on the
basis of Autocracy and Eastern Orthodoxy, the Slavophils
of this new school declare that their doctrines are quite
consistent with Liberal, Constitutional principles and with
religious freedom in the widest sense of the term. In
foreign policy they disclaim all territorial conquests, but
they maintain, like their predecessors, that Russia must
exercise a certain predominance in the Slav world, and must
resist strenuously any extension of German influence in the
Balkan Peninsula. In accordance with this principle they
protested vigorously against the annexation of Bosnia and
Herzegovina by Austria in 1908, and they thereby attracted
for a time a good deal of public attention ; but as the Cabinet
of Vienna would not yield to mere diplomatic pressure, and
Russia was not prepared to appeal to arms, their protests
led to no practical result, and they retired into the political
background. There is no doubt, however, that we shall
hear more about them in the next crisis of the Eastern
Question.

Moscow may well pride herself on being, in a certain
sense, the capital of Russia, but the administrative and
bureaucratic centre of the Empire— if anything on the
frontier of a country can be called its centre — has long been,
and is likely to remain, Peter's stately city at the mouth of
the Neva, to which I now invite the reader to accompany
me.

CHAPTER XXVI

ST. PETERSBURG AND EUROPEAN INFLUENCE

From whatever side the traveller approaches St. Petersburg,
unless he goes thither by sea, he must traverse several
hundred miles of forest and morass, presenting few traces
of human habitation or agriculture. This fact adds power-
fully to the first impression which the city makes on his
mind. In the midst of a waste howling wilderness, he
suddenly comes on a magnificent artificial oasis.

Of all the great European cities, the one that most
resembles the capital of the Tsars is Berlin. Both are
built on perfectly level ground; both have wide, regularly
arranged streets ; in both there is a general look of stiffness
and symmetry which suggests military discipline and
German bureaucracy. But there is at least one profound
difference. Though Berlin is said by geographers to be
built on the Spree, we might live a long time in the city
without noticing the sluggish little stream on which the
name of a river has been undeservedly conferred. St.
Petersburg, on the contrary, is built on a magnificent river,
which forms the main feature of the place. By its breadth,
and by the enormous volume of its clear, blue, cold water
— somewhat polluted of late by manufacturing industry —
the Neva is certainly one of the noblest rivers of Europe.
A few miles before reaching the Gulf of Finland it breaks
up into several streams and forms a delta. It is here that
St. Petersburg stands.

Like the river, everything in St. Petersburg is on a
colossal scale. The streets, the squares, the palaces, the
public buildings, the churches, whatever may be their
defects, have at least the attribute of greatness, and seem
to have been designed for the countless generations to come,
rather than for the practical wants of the present inhabitants.
In this respect the city well represents the Empire of which
o 417

4i8 RUSSIA

it is the capital. Even the private houses are built in
enormous blocks and divided into many separate apart-
ments. Those built for the working classes sometimes
contain, I am assured, more than a thousand inhabitants.
How many cubic feet of air is allowed to each person I do
not know ; not so many, I fear, as is recommended by the
most advanced sanitary authorities.

For a detailed description of the city I must refer the
reader to the guide-books. Among its numerous monu-
ments, of which the Russians are justly proud, I confess
that the one which interested me most was neither St. Isaac's
Cathedral, with its majestic gilded dome, its colossal mono-
lithic columns of red granite, and its gaudy interior ; nor
the Hermitage, with its magnificent collection of Dutch
pictures ; nor the gloomy, frowning fortress of St. Peter
and St. Paul, containing the tombs of the Emperors. These
and other "sights" may deserve all the praise which enthu-
siastic tourists have lavished upon them, but what made a
far deeper impression on me was the little w-ooden house in
which Peter the Great lived whilst his future capital was
being built. In its style and arrangement it looks more
like the hut of a navvy than the residence of a Tsar, but
it was quite in keeping with the character of the illustrious
man who occupied it. Peter could and did occasionally
work like a navvy without feeling that his Imperial dignity
was thereby impaired. When he determined to build a new
capital on a Finnish marsh, inhabited chiefly by wildfowl,
he did not content himself with exercising his autocratic
power in a comfortable arm-chair. Like the old Greek gods,
he went down from his Olympus, and took his place in the
ranks of ordinary mortals, superintending the work with his
own eyes, and taking part in it with his own hands. If he
was as arbitrary and oppressive as any of the pyramid-
building Pharaohs, he could at least say in self-justification
that he did not spare himself any more than his people,
but exposed himself freely to the discomforts and dangers
under which thousands of his fellow-labourers succumbed.

In reading the account of Peter's life, written in part
by his own pen, we can easily understand how the piously
Conservative section of his subjects failed to recognise in

PETER THE GREAT'S POLICY 419

him the legitimate successor of the orthodox Tsars. The
old Tsars had been men of grave, pompous demeanour,
deeply imbued with the consciousness of their semi-religious
dignity. Living habitually in Moscow or its immediate neigh-
bourhood, they spent their time in attending long religious
services, in consulting with their Boydrs, in being present
at ceremonious hunting-parties, in visiting the monasteries,
and in holding edifying conversations with ecclesiastical
dignitaries or revered ascetics. If they undertook a journey,
it was probably to make a pilgrimage to some holy shrine ;
and, whether in Moscow or elsewhere, they were always
protected from contact with ordinary humanity by a formid-
able barricade of Court ceremonial. In short, they combined
the characters of a Christian monk and of an Oriental
potentate.

Peter was a man of an entirely different type, and played
in the calm, dignified, orthodox ceremonious world of
Moscow the part of the bull in the china-shop, outraging
ruthlessly and wantonly all the time-honoured traditional
conceptions of propriety and etiquette. Utterly regardless
of public opinion and popular prejudices, he swept away
the old formalities, avoided ceremonies of all kinds, scoffed
at ancient usage, preferred foreign secular books to edifying
conversations, chose profane heretics as his boon com-
panions, travelled in foreign countries, dressed in heretical
costume, defaced the image of God and put his soul in
jeopardy by shaving off his beard, compelled his nobles to
dress and shave like himself, rushed about the Empire as if
goaded on by the demon of unrest, employed his sacred
hands in carpentering and other menial occupations, took
part openly in the uproarious orgies of his foreign soldiery,
and, in short, did everything that "the Lord's anointed"
might reasonably be expected not to do. No wonder the
Moscovites were scandalised by his conduct, and that some
of them suspected he was not the Tsar at all, but Antichrist
in disguise. And no wonder he felt the atmosphere of
Moscow oppressive, and preferred living in the new capital
which he had himself created.

His avowed object in building St. Petersburg was to
have "a window by which the Russians might look into

420 RUSSIA

civilised Europe " ; and well has the city fulfilled its purpose.
From its foundation may be dated the European period of
Russian history. Before Peter's time Russia belonged to
Asia rather than to Europe, and was doubtless regarded by
Englishmen and Frenchmen pretty much as we nowadays
regard Bokhara or Kashgar; since that time she has formed
an integral part of the European political system, and her
intellectual history has been a reflection of the intellectual
history of Western Europe, modified and coloured by
national character and by peculiar local conditions.

When we speak of the intellectual history of a nation
we generally mean in reality the intellectual history of the
progressive upper classes. With regard to Russia, more
perhaps than with regard to any other country, this dis-
tinction must always carefully be borne in mind. Peter
succeeded in forcing European civilisation on the nobles,
but the people remained unaffected. The nation was, as it
were, cleft in two, and with each succeeding generation the
cleft widened. Whilst the masses clung obstinately to their
time-honoured customs and beliefs, the nobles came to look
on the objects of popular veneration as the relics of a
barbarous past, of which a civilised nation ought to be
ashamed.

The intellectual movement inaugurated by Peter had a
purely practical character. He was himself a thorough
utilitarian, and perceived clearly that w^hat his people needed
was not theological or philosophical enlightenment, but plain
practical knowledge suitable for the requirements of every-
day life. He wanted neither theologians nor philosophers,
but military and naval officers, administrators, artisans,
miners, manufacturers, and merchants, and for this purpose
he introduced secular technical education. For the young
generation primary schools were founded, and for more
advanced pupils the best foreign works on fortification,
architecture, navigation, metallurgy, engineering and cog-
nate subjects, were translated into the native tongue.
Scientific men and cunning artificers were brought into the
country, and the young Russians were sent abroad to learn
foreign languages and the useful arts. In a word, every-
thing was done that seemed likely to raise the Russians to

GERMAN INFLUENCE 421

the level of material well-being already attained by the more
advanced nations.

We have here an important peculiarity in the intellectual
development of Russia. In Western Europe the modern
scientific spirit, being the natural offspring of numerous
concomitant historical causes, was born in the natural way,
and society had, consequently, before giving birth to it, to
endure the pains of pregnancy and the throes of prolonged
labour. In Russia, on the contrary, this spirit appeared
suddenly as an adult foreigner adopted by a despotic pater-
familias. Thus Russia made the transition from mediaeval
to modern times without any violent struggle between the
old and the new conceptions, such as had taken place in the
West. The Church, effectually restrained from all active
opposition by the Imperial power, preserved unmodified her
ancient beliefs; whilst the nobles, casting their traditional
conceptions and beliefs to the winds, marched forward
unfettered on that path which their fathers and grandfathers
had regarded as the direct road to perdition.

During the first part of Peter's reign Russia was not
subjected to the exclusive influence of any one particular
country. Thoroughly cosmopolitan in his sympathies, the
great reformer, like the modern Japanese, was ready to
borrow from any foreign nation — German, Dutch, Danish,
or French — whatever seemed to him to suit his purpose.
But soon the geographical proximity to Germany, the
annexation of the Baltic Provinces in which the civilisation
was German, and intermarriages between the Imperial
family and various German dynasties, gave to German
influence a decided preponderance. When the Empress
Anne, Peter's niece, who had been Duchess of Courland,
entrusted the whole administration of the country to her
favourite Biron, the German influence became almost
exclusive, and the Court, the official world, and the schools
were Germanised.

The harsh, cruel, tyrannical rule of Biron produced a
strong reaction, ending in a revolution, which raised to the
throne the Princess Elizabeth, Peter's unmarried daughter,
who had lived in retirement and neglect during the German
regime. She was expected to rid the country of foreigners.

422 RUSSIA

and she did what she could to fulfil the expectations that
were entertained of her. With loud protestations of patriotic
feelings, she removed the Germans from all important posts,
demanded that in future the members of the Academy should
be chosen from among born Russians, and gave orders that
the Russian youth should be carefully prepared for all kinds
of official activity.

This attempt to throw off the German bondage did not
lead to intellectual independence. During Peter's violent
reforms Russia had ruthlessly thrown away her own historic
past with whatever germs it contained, and now she possessed
none of the elements of a genuine national culture. She was
in the position of a fugitive who has escaped from slavery,
and, finding himself in danger of starvation, looks about for
a new master. The upper classes, who had acquired a taste
for foreign civilisation, no sooner threw off everything
German than they sought some other civilisation to put in
its place. And they could not long hesitate in making a
choice, for at that time all who thought of culture and refine-
ment turned their eyes to Paris and Versailles. All that was
most brilliant and refined was to be found at the Court of
the French kings, under whose patronage the art and
literature of the Renaissance had attained their highest
development. Even Germany, which had resisted the
ambitious designs of Louis XIV., imitated the manners of
his Court. Every petty German potentate strove to ape the
pomp and dignity of the Grand Monarque; and the courtiers,
affecting to look on everything German as rude and bar-
barous, adopted French fashions, and spoke a hybrid jargon
which they considered much more elegant than the plain
mother tongue. In a word, Gallomania had become the
prevailing social epidemic of the time, and it could not fail
to attack and metamorphose such a class as the Russian
Noblesse, which possessed few stubborn deep-rooted national
convictions.

At first the French infiuence was manifested chiefly in
external forms — that is to say, in dress, manners, language,
and upholstery — but gradually, and very rapidly after the
accession of Catherine II., the friend of Voltaire and the
Encyclop^distes, it sank deeper. Every noble who had

FRENCH INFLUENCE 423

pretensions to being "civilised" learned to speak French
fluently, and gained some superficial acquaintance with
French literature. The tragedies of Corneille and Racine
and the comedies of jMoli^re were played regularly at the
Court theatre in presence of the Empress, and awakened a
real or affected enthusiasm among the audience. For those
who preferred reading in their native language, numerous
translations were published, a simple list of which would
fill several pages. Among them we find not only Voltaire,
Rousseau, Lesage, Alarmontel, and other favourite French
authors, but also all the masterpieces of European literature,
ancient and modern, which at that time enjoyed a high
reputation in the French literary world — Homer and Demos-
thenes, Cicero and Virgil, Ariosto and Camoens, Milton and
Locke, Sterne and Fielding.

It is related of Byron that he never wrote a description
whilst the scene was actually before him ; and this fact points
to an important psychological principle. The human mind,
so long as it is compelled to strain the receptive faculties,
cannot engage in that "poetic" activity — to use the term
in its Greek sense — which is commonly called "original
creation." And as with individuals, so with nations. By
accepting in a lump a foreign culture a nation inevitably
condemns itself for a time to intellectual sterilitv. So long
as it is occupied in receiving and assimilating a flood of
new ideas, unfamiliar conceptions, and foreign modes of
thought, it will produce nothing original, and the result
of its highest efforts will be merely successful imitation.
We need not be surprised therefore to find that the Russians,
in becoming acquainted with foreign literature, became
imitators and plagiarists. In this kind of work their natural
pliancy of mind and powerful histrionic talent made them
wonderfully successful. Odes, pseudo-classical tragedies,
satirical comedies, epic poems, elegies, and all the other
recognised forms of poetical composition, appeared in great
profusion, and many of the writers acquired a remarkable
command over their native language, which had hitherto
been regarded as uncouth and barbarous. But in all this
mass of imitative literature, which has since fallen into
well-merited oblivion, there are verv few traces of genuine

424 RUSSIA

originality. To obtain the title of the Russian Racine, the
Russian Lafontaine, the Russian Pindar, or the Russian
Homer, was at that time the highest aim of Russian literary-
ambition.

Together with the fashionable literature the Russian
educated classes adopted something of the fashionable
philosophy. They were peculiarly unfitted to resist that
hurricane of "enlightenment" which swept over Europe
during the latter half of the eighteenth century, first break-
ing or uprooting the received philosophical systems, theo-
logical conceptions, and scientific theories, and then shaking
to their foundations the existing political and social institu-
tions. The Russian Noblesse had neither the traditional
conservative spirit nor the firm, well-reasoned, logical beliefs
which in England and Germany formed a powerful barrier
against the spread of French influence. They had been too
recently metamorphosed, and were too eager to acquire a
foreign civilisation, to have even the germs of a conservative
spirit. The rapidity and violence with which Peter's reforms
had been effected, together with the peculiar spirit of Greek
Orthodoxy and the low intellectual level of the clergy, had
prevented theology from associating itself with the new order
of things. The upper classes had become estranged from
the beliefs of their forefathers without acquiring other beliefs
to supply the place of those which had been lost. The old
religious conceptions were inseparably interwoven with what
was recognised as antiquated and barbarous, whilst the new
philosophical ideas were associated with all that was modern
and civilised. Besides this, the sovereign, Catherine II.,
who enjoyed the unbounded admiration of the upper classes,
openly professed allegiance to the new philosophy, and
sought the advice and friendship of its high priests. If we
bear in mind these facts we shall not be surprised to find
among the Russian nobles of that time a considerable
number of so-called "Voltaireans " and numerous unques-
tioning believers in the infallibility of the Encyclop^die.
What is a little more surprising is, that the new philosophy
sometimes found its way into the ecclesiastical seminaries.
The famous Speranski relates that in the seminary of St.
Petersburg, one of his professors, when not in a state of

THE SENTIMENTAL SCHOOL 425

intoxication, was in the habit of preaching the doctrines of
Voltaire and Diderot !

The rise of the sentimental school in Western Europe
produced an important change in Russian literature, by
undermining the inordinate admiration for the French
pseudo-classical school. Florian, Richardson, Sterne, Rous-
seau, and Bernardin de St. Pierre found first translators,
and then imitators, and soon the loud-sounding declamation
and wordy ecstatic despair of the stage heroes were drowned
in the deep-drawn sighs and plaintive wailings of amorous
swains and peasant maids forsaken. The mania seems to
have been in Russia even more severe than in the countries
where it originated. Full-grown, bearded men wept because
they had not been born in peaceful primitive times, "when
all men were shepherds and brothers." Hundreds of sighing
youths and maidens visited the scenes described by the senti-
mental writers, and wandered by the rivers and ponds in
which despairing heroines had drowned themselves. People
talked, wrote, and meditated about "the sympathy of hearts
created for each other," "the soft communion of sympathetic
souls," and much more of the same kind. Sentimental
journeys became a favourite amusement, and formed the
subject of very popular books, containing maudlin absurdi-
ties likely to produce nowadays mirth rather than tears.
One traveller, for instance, throws himself on his knees
before an old oak and makes a speech to it ; another weeps
daily on the grave of a favourite dog, and constantly longs
to marry a peasant girl ; a third talks love to the moon,
sends kisses to the stars, and wishes to press the heavenly
orbs to his bosom ! For a time the public would read nothing
but absurd productions of this sort, and Karamzin, the great
literary authority of the time, expressly declared that the
true function of Art was "to disseminate agreeable impres-
sions in the region of the sentimental."

The love of French philosophy vanished as suddenly as
the inordinate admiration of the French pseudo-classical
literature. When the great Revolution broke out in Paris,
the fashionable philosophic literature in St. Petersburg dis-
appeared. Men who talked about political freedom and the
rights of man, without thinking for a moment of limiting
o*

426 RUSSIA

the Autocratic Power or of emancipating their serfs, were
naturally surprised and frightened on discovering what the
liberal principles could effect when applied to real life.
Horrified by the awful scenes of the Terror, they hastened
to divest themselves of the principles which led to such
results, and sank into a kind of optimistic conservatism that
harmonised well with the virtuous sentimentalism in vogue.
In this the Empress herself gave the example. The Imperial
disciple and friend of the Encyclopedistes became in the last
years of her reign a decided reactionnaire.

During the Napoleonic wars, when the patriotic feelings
were excited, there was a violent hostility to foreign intel-
lectual influence; and feeble intermittent attempts were made
to throw off the intellectual bondage. The invasion of the
country in 1812 by the Grande Arm^e, and the burning of
Moscow, added abundant fuel to this patriotic fire. For
some time anyone who ventured to express even a moderate
admiration for French culture incurred the risk of being
stigmatised as a traitor to his country and a renegade to
the national faith. But this patriotic fanaticism soon
evaporated, and the exaggerations of the ultra-national party
became the object of satire and parody. When the political
danger was past, and people resumed their ordinary occupa-
tions, those who loved foreign literature returned to their old
favourites — or, as the ultra-patriots called it, to their "wallow-
ing in the mire " — simply because the native literature did
not supply them with what they desired. "We are quite
ready," they said to their upbraiders, "to admire your great
works as soon as they appear, but in the meantime please
allow us to enjoy what we possess." Thus in the last years
of the reign of Alexander I. the patriotic opposition to West
European literature gradually ceased, and a new period of
unrestricted intellectual importation began.

The intellectual merchandise now brought into the
country was very different from that which had been
imported in the time of Catherine. The French Revolution,
the Napoleonic domination, the patriotic wars, the restoration
of the Bourbons, and the other great events of that memor-
able epoch, had in the interval produced profound changes
in the intellectual as well as the political condition of Western

INTELLECTUAL CHANGES 427

Europe. During the Napoleonic wars Russia had become
closely associated with Germany ; and now the peculiar
intellectual fermentation which was going on among the
German educated classes was reflected in the society of St.
Petersburg. It did not appear, indeed, in the printed litera-
ture, for the Press censure had been recently organised on
the principles laid down by Metternich, but it was none the
less violent on that account. Whilst the periodicals were
filled with commonplace meditations on youth, spring, the
love of Art, and similar innocent topics, the young genera-
tion was discussing in the salons all the burning questions
which Metternich and his adherents were endeavouring to
extinguish.

These discussions, if discussions they might be called,
were not of a very serious kind. In true dilettante style
the fashionable young philosophers culled from the newest
books the newest thoughts and theories, and retailed them
in the salon or the ball-room. And they were always sure
to find attentive listeners. The more astounding the idea
or dogma, the more likely was it to be favourably received.
No matter whether it came from the Rationalists, the Mystics,
the Freemasons, or the Methodists, it was certain to find
favour, provided it was novel and presented in an elegant
form. The eclectic minds of that curious time could derive
equal satisfaction from the brilliant discourses of the reaction-
ary Jesuitical De Maistre, the revolutionary odes of Pushkin,
and the mysticism of Frau von Kriidener. For the majority
the vague theosophic doctrines and the projects for a spiritual
union of governments and peoples had perhaps the greatest
charm, being specially commended by the fact that they
enjoyed the protection and sympathy of the Emperor. Pious
souls discovered in the mystical lucubrations of Jung-Stilling
and Baader the final solution of all existing difficulties —
political, social, and philosophical. Men of less dreamy
temperament put their faith in political economy and consti-
tutional theories, and sought a foundation for their favourite
schemes in the past history of the country and in the
supposed fundamental peculiarities of the national character.
Like the young German democrats, who were then talking
enthusiastically about Teutons, Cheruskers, Skalds, the

428 RUSSIA

shade of Arminius, and the heroes of the Niebelungen, these
young Russian savants recognised in early Russian history
— when reconstructed according to their own fancy — lofty
political ideals, and dreamed, in their new-born enthusiasm,
of resuscitating the ancient institutions in all their pristine
imaginary splendour.

Each age has its peculiar social and political panaceas.
One generation puts its trust in religion, another in philan-
thropy, a third in written constitutions, a fourth in universal
suffrage, a fifth in popular education. In the Epoch of the
Restoration, as it is called, the favourite panacea all over the
Continent was secret political association. Very soon after
the overthrow of Napoleon, the peoples who had risen in
arms to obtain political independence discovered that they
had merely changed masters. The Princes reconstructed
Europe according to their own convenience, without paying
much attention to patriotic aspirations, and forgot their
promises of liberal institutions as soon as they were again
firmly seated on their thrones. This was naturally for many
a bitter deception. The young generation, excluded from
all share in political life and gagged by the stringent police
supervision, sought to realise its political aspirations by
means of secret societies, resembling more or less the
masonic brotherhoods. There were the Burschenschaften in
Germany; the Union, and the "Aide toi et le ciel t'aidera,"
in France; the Order of the Hammer in Spain ; the Carbonari
in Italy; and the Hetairai in Greece. In Russia the young
nobles followed the prevailing fashion. Secret societies were
formed, and in December, 1825, an attempt was made to raise
a military insurrection in St. Petersburg, for the purpose
of deposing the Imperial family and proclaiming a republic;
but the attempt failed, and the vague Utopian dreams of
the romantic would-be reformers were swept away by grape-
shot.

This "December catastrophe," still vividly remembered,
was for the society of St. Petersburg like the giving way of
the floor in a crowded ball-room. But a moment before, all
had been animated, careless, and happy; now consternation
was depicted on every face. The salons that but yesterday
had been ringing with lively discussions on morals, aesthetics.

THE "DECEMBER CATASTROPHE" 429

politics, and theology, were now silent and deserted. Many
of those who had been wont to lead the causeries had been
removed to the cells of the fortress, and those who had not
been arrested trembled for themselves or their friends ; for
nearly all had of late dabbled more or less in the theory
and practice of revolution. The announcment that five of
the conspirators had been condemned to the gallows and the
others sentenced to transportation did not tend to calm the
consternation. Society was like a discomfited child who
amidst the delight and excitement of letting ofT fireworks
has had his fingers severely burnt.

The sentimental, wavering Alexander I. had been
succeeded by his stern, energetic brother Nicholas, and
the command went forth that there should be no more fire-
works, no more dilettante philosophising or political aspira-
tions. There was, however, little need for such an order.
Society had been, for the moment at least, effectually cured
of all tendencies to political dreaming. It had discovered,
to its astonishment and dismay, that these new ideas, which
were to bring temporal salvation to humanity, and to make
all men happy, virtuous, refined, and poetical, led in reality
to exile and the scaffold ! The pleasant dream was at an
end, and the fashionable world, giving up its former habits,
took to harmless occupations — card-playing, dissipation, and
the reading of French light literature. "The French quad-
rille," as a writer of the time tersely expresses it, "has taken
the place of Adam Smith."

When the storm had passed, the life of the salons began
anew, but it was very different from what it had been.
There was no longer any talk about political economy,
theology, popular education, administrative abuses, social
and political reforms. Everything that had any relation to
politics in the wider sense of the term was by tacit consent
avoided. Discussions there were as of old, but they were
now confined to literary topics, theories of art, and similar
innocent subjects.

This indifference or positive repugnance to philosophy
and political science, strengthened and prolonged by the
repressive system of administration adopted by Nicholas,
was of course fatal to the many-sided intellectual activity

430 RUSSIA

which had flourished during the preceding reign, but it
was by no means unfavourable to the cultivation of imagina-
tive literature. On the contrary, by excluding those practical
interests which tend to disturb artistic production and to
engross the attention of the public, it fostered what was
called in the phraseology of that time "the pure-hearted
worship of the Muses." We need not, therefore, be surprised
to find that the reign of Nicholas, which is commonly and
not unjustly described as an epoch of social and intellectual
stagnation, may be called in a certain sense the Golden Age
of Russian literature.

Already in the preceding reign the struggle between the
Classical and the Romantic school — between the adherents
of traditional assthetic principles and the partisans of Un-
trammelled poetic inspiration — which was being carried on
in Western Europe, was reflected in Russia. A group of
young men belonging to the aristocratic society of St. Peters-
burg embraced with enthusiasm the new doctrines, and
declared war against "classicism," under which term they
understood all that was antiquated, dry, and pedantic. Dis-
carding the stately, lumbering, unwieldy periods which had
hitherto been in fashion, they wrote a light, elastic, vigorous
style, and formed a literary society for the express purpose
of ridiculing the most approved classical writers. The new
principles found many adherents, and the new style many
admirers, but this only intensified the hostility of the literary
Conservatives. The staid, respectable leaders of the old
school, who had all their lives kept the fear of Boileau before
their eyes and considered his precepts as the infallible utter-
ances of aesthetic w'isdom, thundered against the impious
innovations as unmistakable symptoms of literary decline
and moral degeneracy — representing the boisterous young
iconoclasts as dissipated Don Juans and dangerous free-
thinkers.

Thus for some time in Russia, as in Western Europe,
"a terrible war raged on Parnassus." At first the Govern-
ment frowned at the innovators, on account of certain
revolutionary odes which one of their number had written;
but when the Romantic Muse, having turned away from the
present as essentially prosaic, went back into the distant

"WAR ON PARNASSUS" 43i

past and soared into the region of sublime abstractions, the
most keen-eyed Press Censors found no reason to condemn
her worship, and the authorities placed almost no restrictions
on free poetic inspiration. Romantic poetry acquired the
protection of the Government and the patronage of the Court,
and the names of Zhukovski, Pushkin, and Lermontov — the
three chief representatives of the Russian Romantic school
— became household words in all ranks of the educated
classes.

These three great luminaries of the literary world were
of course attended by a host of satellites of various magni-
tudes, who did all in their power to refute the Romantic
principles by rediictiones ad absurdum. Endowed for the
most part with considerable facility of composition, the
poetasters poured forth their feelings with torrential reckless-
ness, demanding freedom for their inspiration, and cursing
the age that fettered them with its prosaic cares, its cold
reason, and its dry science. At the same time the dramatists
and novelists created heroes of immaculate character and
angelic purity, endowed wath all the cardinal virtues in the
superlative degree ; and, as a contrast to these, terrible
Satanic personages with savage passions, gleaming daggers,
deadly poisons, and all manner of aimless melodramatic
villainy. These stilted productions, interspersed with light
satirical essays, historical sketches, literary criticism, and
amusing anecdotes, formed the contents of the periodical
literature, and completely satisfied the wants of the reading
public. Almost no one at that time took any interest in
public affairs or foreign politics. The acts of the Govern-
ment which were watched most attentively were the promo-
tions in the service and the conferring of decorations. The
publication of a new tale by Zagoskin or IMarlinski — two
writers now wellnigh forgotten — seemed of much greater
importance than any amount of legislation, and such
events as the French Revolution of 1830 paled before the
publication of a new poem by Pushkin.

The Transcendental philosophy, which in Germany went
hand in hand w'ith the Romantic literature, found likewise
a faint reflection in Russia. A number of young professors
and students in Moscow, who had become ardent admirers

432 RUSSIA

of German literature, passed from the works of Schiller,
Goethe, and Hoffmann to the writings of Schelling and
Hegel. Trained in the Romantic school, these young
philosophers found at first a special charm in Schelling's
mystical system, teeming with hazy poetical metaphors, and
presenting a misty grandiose picture of the universe ; but
gradually they felt the want of some logical basis for their
speculations, and Hegel became their favourite. Gallantly
they struggled with the uncouth terminology and epigram-
matic paradoxes of the great thinker, and strove to force
their way through the intricate mazes of his logical formulae.
With the ardour of neophytes they looked at every phenome-
non— even the most trivial incident of common life — from
the philosophical point of view, talked day and night about
principles, ideas, subjectivity, Weltauffassung, and similar
abstract entities, and habitually attacked the "hydra of
unphilosophy " by analysing the phenomena presented and
relegating the ingredient elements to the recognised cate-
gories. In ordinary life they were men of quiet, grave,
contemplative demeanour, but their faces could flush and
their blood boil when they discussed the all-important
question whether it is possible to pass logically from Pure
Being through Nonentity to the conception of Development
and Definite Existence !

We know how in Western Europe Romanticism and
Transcendentalism, in their various forms, sank into oblivion,
and were replaced by a literature which had a closer con-
nection with ordinary prosaic wants and plain everyday life.
The educated public became weary of the Romantic writers,
who were always "sighing like a furnace," delighting in
solitude, cold eternity, and moonshine, deluging the world
with their heart-gushings, and calling on the heavens and
the earth to stand aghast at their Promethean agonising or
their Wertherean despair. Healthy human nature revolted
against the poetical enthusiasts, who had lost the faculty of
seeing things in their natural light, and who constantly
indulged in that morbid self-analysis which is fatal to genuine
feeling and vigorous action. And in this healthy reaction
the philosophers fared no better than the poets, with whom,
indeed, they had much in common. Shutting their eyes to

GOGOL-THE RUSSIAN DICKENS 433

the visible world around them, they had busied themselves
with burrowing in the mysterious depths of Absolute Being,
grappling with the ego and the non-ego, constructing the
great world, visible and invisible, out of their own puny
internal self-consciousness, endeavouring to appropriate all
departments of human thought, and imparting to every
subject they touched the dryness and rigidity of an alge-
braical formula. Gradually men with real human sympathies
began to perceive that from all this philosophical turmoil
little real advantage was to be derived. It became only too
evident that the philosophers were perfectly reconciled with
all the evil in the world, provided it did not contradict
their theories; that they were men of the same type as
the physician in Moli^re's comedy, whose chief care was
that his patients should die selon les ordonnances de la
medecine.

In Russia the reaction first appeared in the aesthetic
literature. Its first influential representative was Gogol
(b. 1808, d. 1852), who may be called, in a certain sense,
the Russian Dickens. A minute comparison of those two
great humourists would perhaps show as many points of
contrast as of similarity, but there is a strong superficial
resemblance between them. They both possessed an inex-
haustible supply of broad humour and an imagination of
singular vividness. Both had the power of seeing the
ridiculous side of common things, and the talent of produc-
ing caricatures that had a wonderful semblance of reality.
A little calm reflection would suffice to show that the
characters presented are for the most part psychological
impossibilities; but on first making their acquaintance we
are so struck with one or two life-like characteristics and
various little details dexterously introduced, and at the same
time we are so carried away by the overflowing fun of the
narrative, that we have neither time nor inclination to use
our critical faculties. In a very short time G6gors fame
spread throughout the length and breadth of the Empire,
and many of his characters became as familiar to his country-
men as Sam Weller and Mrs. Gamp were to Englishmen.
His descriptions were so graphic — so like the world which
everybody knew ! The characters seemed to be old acquaint-

434 RUSSIA

ances hit off to the Hfe; and readers revelled in that peculiar
pleasure which most of us derive from seeing our friends
successfully mimicked. Even the Iron Tsar could not resist
the fun and humour of "The Inspector " (Revisor), and not
only laughed heartily, but also protected the author against
the tyranny of the literary censors, who considered that the
piece was not written in a sufBciently "well-intentioned"
tone. In a word, the reading public laughed as it had never
laughed before, and this wholesome, genuine merriment did
much to destroy the morbid appetite for Byronic heroes
and Romantic affectation.

The Romantic Muse did not at once abdicate, but with
the spread of Gogol's popularity her reign was practically
at an end. In vain some of the conservative critics decried
the new favourite as talentless, prosaic, and vulgar. The
public were not to be robbed of their amusement for the
sake of any abstract aesthetic considerations; and young
authors, taking G6gol for their model, chose their subjects
from real life, and endeavoured to delineate with minute
truthfulness.

This new intellectual movement was at first purely
literary, and affected merely the manner of writing novels,
tales, and poems. The critics who had previously demanded
beauty of form and elegance of expression now demanded
accuracy of description, condemned the aspirations towards
so-called high art, and praised loudly those who produced
the best literary photographs. But authors and critics did
not long remain on this purely esthetic standpoint. The
authors, in describing reality, began to indicate moral
approval and condemnation, and the critics began to pass
from the criticism of the representations to the criticism of
the realities represented. A poem or a tale was often used
as a peg on which to hang a moral lecture, and the fictitious
characters were soundly rated for their sins of omission and
commission. Much was said about the defence of the
oppressed, female emancipation, honour, and humanitarian-
ism ; and ridicule was unsparingly launched against all forms
of ignorance, apathy, and the spirit of routine. The ordinary
refrain was that the public ought now to discard what
was formerly regarded as poetical and sublime, and to

POLITICAL ERUPTION OF 1848 435

occupy itself with practical concerns — with the real wants
of social life.

The literary movement was thus becoming a movement
in favour of social and political reform when it was suddenly
arrested by political events in the West. The February
Revolution in Paris, and the political fermentation which
appeared during 1848-49 in almost every country of Europe,
alarmed the Emperor Nicholas and his counsellors. A
Russian army was sent into Austria to suppress the Hun-
garian insurrection and save the Habsburg dynasty, and
the most stringent measures were taken to prevent disorders
at home. One of the first precautions for the preservation of
domestic tranquillity was to muzzle the Press more firmly
than before, and to silence the aspirations towards reform
and progress; thenceforth nothing could be printed which
was not in strict accordance with the ultra-patriotic theory
of Russian history, as expressed by a leading official person-
age : "The past has been admirable, the present is more
than magnificent, and the future will surpass all that the
human imagination can conceive ! " The alarm caused by
the revolutionary disorders spread to the non-official world,
and gave rise to much patriotic self-congratulation. "The
nations of the West," it was said, "envy us, and if they
knew us better — if they could see how happy and prosperous
we are — they would envy us still more. We ought not,
however, to withdraw from Europe our solicitude ; its
hostility should not deprive us of our high mission of saving
order and restoring rest to the nations ; we ought to teach
them to obey authority as we do. It is for us to introduce
the saving principle of order into a world that has fallen a
prey to anarchy. Russia ought not to abandon that mission
which has been entrusted to her by the heavenly and by the
earthly Tsar." *

Men who saw in the significant political eruption of 1848
nothing but an outburst of meaningless, aimless anarchy,
and who believed that their country was destined to restore
order throughout the civilised world, had of course little
time or inclination to think of putting their own house in

* These words were written by Tchaadd^v, who, a few years before, had
vigorously attacked the Slavophils for enouncing similar views.

436 RUSSIA

order. No one now spoke of the necessity of social reorgani-
sation ; the recently awakened aspirations and expectations
seemed to be completely forgotten. The critics returned to
their old theory that art and literature should be cultivated
for their own sake and not used as a vehicle for the pro-
pagation of ideas foreign to their nature. It seemed, in short,
as if all the prolific ideas which had for a time occupied the
public attention had been merely "writ in water," and had
now disappeared without leaving a trace behind them.

In reality the new movement was destined to reappear
very soon with tenfold force ; but the account of its reappear-
ance and development belong to a future chapter. Meanwhile
I may formulate the general conclusion to be drawn from
the foregoing pages. Ever since the time of Peter the Great
there has been such a close connection between Russia and
Western Europe that every intellectual movement which has
appeared in France and Germany has been reflected — albeit
in an exaggerated, distorted form — in the educated society
of St. Petersburg and Moscow. Thus the window which
Peter opened in order to enable his subjects to look into
I'lurope has well served its purpose.

CHAPTER XXVH

THE CRBIEAN WAR AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

The Russians frankly admit that they were beaten in the
Crimean War, but they regard the heroic defence of Sebas-
topol as one of the most glorious events in the military
annals of their country. Nor do they altogether regret the
result of the struggle. Often in a half-jocular, half-serious
tone they say that they had reason to be grateful to the Allies.
And there is much truth in this paradoxical statement. The
Crimean War inaugurated a new epoch in the national
history. It gave the death-blow to the repressive system of
the Emperor Nicholas, and produced an intellectual move-
ment and a moral revival which led to gigantic results.

"The affair of December," 1825 — I mean the abortive
attempt at a military insurrection in St. Petersburg, to which
I have alluded in the foregoing chapter — gave the key-note
to Nicholas's reign. The armed attempt to overthrow the
Imperial power, ending in the execution or exile of many
young members of the first families, struck terror into the
Noblesse, and prepared the way for a period of repressive
police administration. Nicholas had none of the moral
limpness and vacillating character of his predecessor. His
was one of those simple, vigorous, tenacious, straightforward
natures — more frequently to be met with among the Teutonic
than among the Slav races — whose conceptions are all
founded on a few deep-rooted, semi-instinctive convictions,
and who are utterly incapable of accommodating themselves
with histrionic cleverness to the changes of external circum-
stances. From his early youth he had shown a strong liking
for military discipline, and a decided repugnance to the
humanitarianism and liberal principles then in fashion.
With "the rights of man," "the spirit of the age," and
similar philosophical abstractions his strong, domineering
nature had no sympathy; and for the vague, loud-sounding

437

438 RUSSIA

phrases of philosophic Uberalism he had a most profound
contempt. "Attend to your miUtary duties," he was wont
to say to his officers before his accession; "don't trouble
your heads with philosophy. I cannot bear philosophers ! "

The tragic event which formed the prelude to his reign
naturally confirmed and fortified his previous convictions.
The representatives of liberalism, who could talk so
eloquently about duty in the abstract, had, whilst wearing
the uniform of the Imperial Guard, openly disobeyed the
repeated orders of their superior officers and attempted to
shake the allegiance of the troops for the purpose of over-
throwing the Imperial power ! A man who was at once
soldier and autocrat, by nature as well as by position, could
of course admit no extenuating circumstances. The incident
stereotyped his character for life, and made him the sworn
enemy of liberalism and the fanatical defender of autocracy,
not only in his own country, but throughout Europe. In
European politics he saw two forces struggling for mastery
— monarchy and democracy, which were in his opinion
identical with order and anarchy ; and he was always ready
to assist his brother sovereigns in putting down democratic
movements. In his own Empire he endeavoured by every
means in his power to prevent the introduction of the
dangerous ideas. For this purpose a stringent intellectual
quarantine was established on the western frontier. All
foreign books and newspapers, except those of the most
harmless kind, were rigorously excluded. Native writers
were placed under strict supervision, and peremptorily
silenced as soon as they departed from what was considered
a "well-intentioned" tone. The number of university
students was diminished, the chairs for political science
were suppressed, and the military schools multiplied.
Russians were prevented from travelling abroad, and
foreigners who visited the country were closely watched by
the police. By these and similar measures it was hoped
that Russia would be preserved from the dangers of revolu-
tionary agitation.

Nicholas has been called the Don Quixote of Autocracy,
and the comparison which the term implies is true in many
points. By character and aims he belonged to a time that

CHARACTER OF NICHOLAS 439

had passed away ; but failure and mishap could not shake
his faith in his ideal, and made no change in his honest,
stubborn nature, which was as loyal and chivalresque as
that of the ill-fated Knight of La Mancha. In spite of all
evidence to the contrary, he believed in the practical omni-
potence of autocracy. He imagined that as his authority
was theoretically unlimited, so his power coi'ld work
miracles. By nature and training a soldier, he c^insidered
government a slightly modified form of military Qipcipline,
and looked on the nation as an army which might ue made
to perform any intellectual or economic evolutions that he
might see fit to command. All social ills seemed to him
the consequence of disobedience to his orders, and he knew
only one remedy — more discipline. Any expression of doubt
as to the wisdom of his policy, or any criticism of existing
regulations, he treated as an act of insubordination which
a wise sovereign ought not to tolerate. If he never said,
"L'^tat — c'est moi ! " it was because he considered the fact
so self-evident that it did not need to be stated. Hence,
any attack on the administration, even in the person of the
most insignificant official, was an attack on himself and
on the monarchical principle which he represented. The
people must believe — and faith, as we know, comes not by
sight — that they lived under the best possible government.
To doubt of this was political heresy. An incautious word
or a foolish joke against the Government was considered a
serious crime, and might be punished by a long exile in
some distant and inhospitable part of the Empire. Progress
should by all means be made, but it must be made by word
of command, and in the way ordered. Private initiative in
any form w^as a thing on no account to be tolerated.

Nicholas never suspected that a ruler, however well-
intentioned, energetic, and legally autocratic he may be,
can do but little without the co-operation of his people.
Experience constantly showed him the fruitlessness of his
efforts, but he paid no attention to its teachings. He had
formed once for all his theory of government, and for thirty
years he acted according to it with all the blindness and
obstinacy of a reckless, fanatical doctrinaire. Even at the
close of his reign, when the terrible logic of facts had proved

440 RUSSIA

his system to be a mistake — when his armies had been
defeated, his best fleet destroyed, his ports blockaded, and
his treasury wellnigh emptied — he could not recant. "My
successor," he is reported to have said on his death-bed,
"may do as he pleases, but I cannot change."

Had Nicholas lived in the old patriarchal times, when
kings were the uncontrolled "shepherds of the people," he
would perhaps have been an admirable ruler; but in the
nineteemh century he was a flagrant anachronism. His
system 0>f administration completely broke down. In vain
he multiplied formalities and inspectors, and punished
severely the few delinquents who happened by some accident
to be brought to justice; the officials continued to pilfer,
extort, and misgovern in every possible way. Though the
country was reduced to what would be called in Europe "a
state of siege," the inhabitants might still have said — as they
are reported to have declared a thousand years before —
"Our land is great and fertile, but there is no order in it."

In a nation accustomed to political life and to a certain
amount of self-government, any approach to the system
of Nicholas would, of course, have produced widespread
dissatisfaction and violent hatred against the ruling power.
But in Russia at that time no such feelings were awakened.
The educated classes — and a fortiori the uneducated — were
profoundly indifferent not only to political questions, but
also to ordinary public affairs, whether local or Imperial,
and were quite content to leave them in the hands of those
who were paid for attending to them. In common with the
uneducated peasantry, the nobles had a boundless respect —
one might almost say a superstitious reverence — not only
for the person, but also for the will of the Tsar, and were
ready to show unquestioning obedience to his commands,
so long as these did not interfere with their accustomed mode
of life. The Tsar desired them not to trouble their heads
with political questions, and to leave all public matters to
the care of the Administration ; and in this respect the
Imperial will coincided so well with their personal inclina-
tions that they had no difficulty in complying with it.

When the Tsar ordered those of them who held office
to refrain from extortion and peculation, his orders were

"MEN WITH ASPIRATIONS" 441

not so punctiliously obeyed, but in this disobedience there
was no open opposition — no assertion of a right to pilfer
and extort. As the disobedience proceeded, not from a
feeling of insubordination, but merely from the weakness
that official flesh is heir to, it was not regarded as very
heinous. In polite society the shortcomings of officials
might be mentioned as material for amusing anecdotes, but
never as an argument for reform. Advocacy of reform
would have been inconsistent with the reputation of being
"well-intentioned," which was an indispensable condition for
Court favour and promotion in the service. Outside of
official duties and the routine of everyday life, the only
legitimate subjects of interest were belles-lettres and the fine
arts. In short, the educated classes in Russia at that time
showed a complete indifference to political and social ques-
tions, an apathetic acquiescence in the system of adminis-
tration adopted by the Government, and an unreasoning
contentment with the existing state of things.

About the year 1845, when the reaction against Roman-
ticism was awakening in the reading public an interest in
the affairs of real life,* the prevalent optimistic apathy was
disturbed by the so-called "men with aspirations," a little
band of enthusiasts, strongly resembling the youth in
Longfellow's poem who carries a banner with the device
"Excelsior," and strives ever to climb higher, without
having any clear notion of where he is going to, or of what
he is to do when he reaches the summit. At first they had
little more than a sentimental enthusiasm for the true, the
beautiful, and the good, and a certain Platonic love of free
institutions, liberty, enlightenment, progress, and everything
that was generally comprehended at that period under the
term "liberal." Gradually, under the influence of the current
French literature, their ideas became a little clearer, and
they began to look on reality around them with a critical
eye. They could perceive, without much effort, the unrelent-
ing tyranny of the Administration, the notorious venality of
the tribunals, the reckless squandering of the public money,
the miserable condition of the serfs, the systematic strangu-
lation of all independent opinion or private initiative, and,

* Vide supra, pp. 434-35.

442 RUSSIA

above all, the profound apathy of the upper classes, who
seemed quite content with things as they were.

With such ugly facts staring them in the face, and with
the habit of looking at things from the moral point of view,
these men could understand how hollow and false were the
soothing or triumphant phrases of official optimism. They
did not, indeed, dare to express their indignation publicly,
for the authorities would allow no public expression of
dissatisfaction with the existing state of things, but they
disseminated their ideas among their friends and acquaint-
ances by means of conversation and manuscript literature,
and some of them, as university professors and writers in
the periodical Press, contrived to awaken in a certain section
of the young generation an ardent enthusiasm for enlighten-
ment and progress, and a vague hope that a brighter day
was about to dawn.

Not a few sympathised with these new conceptions and
aspirations, but the great majority of the nobles regarded
them — especially after the French Revolution of 1848 — as
revolutionary and dangerous. Thus the educated classes
became divided into two sections, which have sometimes
been called the Liberals and the Conservatives, but which
might be more properly designated the men with aspirations
and the apathetically contented. These latter doubtless felt
occasionally the irksomeness of the existing system, but they
had always one consolation : if they were oppressed at home
they were feared abroad. The Tsar was at least a thorough
soldier, possessing an enormous and well-equipped army,
by which he might at any moment impose his will on Europe.
Ever since the glorious days of 18 12, when Napoleon was
forced to make an ignominious retreat from the ruins of
Moscow, the belief that the Russian soldiers were superior
to all others, and that the Russian army was invincible, had
become an article of the popular creed ; and the respect
which the voice of Nicholas commanded in Western Europe
seemed to prove that the fact was admitted by foreign
nations. In these and similar considerations the apathetic-
ally contented found a justification for their lethargy.

When it became evident, on the eve of the Crimean
War, that Russia was about to engage in a trial of

EVE OF THE CRIMEAN WAR 443

strength with the Western Powers, this optimism became
general. "The heavy burdens," it was said, "which the
people have had to bear were necessary to make Russia
the first military Power in Europe, and now the nation will
reap the fruits of its long-suffering and patient resignation.
The West will learn that her boasted liberty and liberal
institutions are of little service in the hour of danger, and
the Russians who admire such institutions will be constrained
to admit that a strong, all-directing autocracy is the only
means of preserving national greatness." As the patriotic
fervour and military enthusiasm increased, nothing was
heard but praises of Nicholas and his system. The war was
regarded by many as a kind of crusade — even the Emperor
spoke about the defence of "the native soil and the holy
faith " and the most exaggerated expectations were enter-
tained of its results. The old Eastern Question was at last
to be solved in accordance with Russian aspirations, and
Nicholas was about to realise Catherine II. 's grand scheme
of driving the Turks out of Europe. The date at which the
troops would arrive at Constantinople was actively discussed,
and a Slavophil poet called on the Emperor to lie down in
Constantinople and rise up as Tsar of a Panslavonic Empire.
Some enthusiasts even expected the speedy liberation of
Jerusalem from the power of the Infidel. To the enemy,
who might possibly hinder the accomplishment of these
schemes, very little attention was paid. "We have only to
throw our hats at them ! " (shdpkami cakiddem) became a
favourite expression.

There were, however, a few men in whom the prospect
of the coming struggle aw'oke very different thoughts and
feelings. They could not share the sanguine expectations
of those who were confident of success. "What preparations
have we made," they asked, "for the struggle with civilisa-
tion, which now sends its forces against us? With all our
vast territory and countless population w^e are incapable of
coping with it. When we talk of the glorious campaigns
against Napoleon, we forget that since that time Europe has
been steadily advancing on the road of progress while we
have been standing still. We march not to victory, but to
defeat, and the only grain of consolation which we have is

444 RUSSIA

that Russia will learn by experience a lesson that will be
of use to her in the future." *

Thes,e prophets of evil found, of course, few disciples,
and were generally regarded as unworthy sons of the
Fatherland — almost as traitors to their country. But their
predictions were confirmed by events. The Allies were
victorious in the Crimea, and even the despised Turks made
a successful stand on the line of the Danube. In spite of
the efforts of the Government to suppress all unpleasant
intelligence, it soon became known that the military organi-
sation was little, if at all, better than the civil administration
— that the individual bravery of soldiers and officers was
neutralised by the incapacity of the generals, the venality
of the officials, and the shameless peculation of the commis-
sariat department. The Emperor, it was said, had drilled
out of the officers all energy, individuality, and moral force.
Almost the only men who showed judgment, decision, and
energy were the officers of the Black Sea fleet, which had
been less subjected to the prevailing system. As the struggle
went on, it became evident how weak the country really was
— how deficient in the resources necessary to sustain a pro-
longed conflict. "Another year of war," writes an eye-
witness in 1855, "and the whole of Southern Russia will
be ruined." To meet the extraordinary demands on the
Treasury, recourse was had to an enormous issue of paper
money ; but the rapid depreciation of the currency showed
that this resource would soon be exhausted. Militia regi-
ments were everywhere raised throughout the country, and
many proprietors spent large sums in equipping volunteer
corps ; but very soon this enthusiasm cooled when it was
found that the patriotic efforts enriched the jobbers without
inflicting any serious injury on the enemy.

Under the sting of the great national humiliation, the
upper classes awoke from their optimistic resignation. They
had borne patiently the oppression of a semi-military
administration, and for this ! The system of Nicholas had
been put to a crucial test, and found wanting. The policy
which had sacrificed all to increase the military power of the
Empire was seen to be a fatal error, and the worthlessness

* These are the words of Grnn6vsk5.

POPULAR DISCONTENT 445

of the drill-sergeant regime was proved by bitter experience.
Those administrative fetters which had for more than a
quarter of a century cramped every spontaneous movement
had failed to fulfil even the narrow purpose for which they
had been forged. They had, indeed, secured a certain
external tranquillity during those troublous times when
Europe was convulsed by revolutionary agitation ; but this
tranquillity was not that of healthy normal action, but of
death — and underneath the surface lay secret and rapidly
spreading corruption. The army still possessed that dashing
gallantry which it had displayed in the campaigns of
Suvorov, that dogged, stoical bravery which had checked
the advance of Napoleon on the field of Borodino, and that
wondrous power of endurance which had often redeemed
the negligence of generals and the defects of the commis-
sariat; but the result was now not victory, but defeat. How
could this be explained except by the radical defects of that
system which had been long practised with such inflexible
perseverance ? The Government had imagined that it could
do everything by its own wisdom and energy, and in reality
it had done nothing, or worse than nothing. The higher
officers had learned only too well to be mere automatons;
the ameliorations in the military organisation, on which
Nicholas had always bestowed special attention, were found
to exist for the most part only in the official reports; the
shameful exploits of the commissariat department were such
as to excite the indignation even of those who had long lived
in an atmosphere of official jobbery and peculation ; and
the finances, which people had generally supposed to be in
a highly satisfactory condition, had become seriously crippled
by the first great national effort.

This deep and widespread dissatisfaction was not allowed
to appear in the Press, but it found very free expression in
the manuscript literature and in conversation. In almost
every house — I mean, of course, among the educated classes
— words were spoken which a few months before would have
seemed treasonable, if not blasphemous. Philippics and
satires in prose and verse were written by the dozen, and
circulated in hundreds of copies. A pasquil on the Com-
mander-in-Chief, or a tirade against the Government, was

446 RUSSIA

sure to be eagerly read and warmly approved of. As a
specimen of this kind of literature, and an illustration of the
public opinion of the time, I may translate here one of those
metrical tirades. Though it was never printed, it obtained
a wide circulation : —

'" God has placed me over Russia,' said the Tsar to us,
' and you must bow down before me, for my throne is His
altar. Trouble not yourselves with public affairs, for I think
for you and watch over you every hour. My watchful
eye detects internal evils and the machinations of foreign
enemies; and I have no need of counsel, for God inspires
me with wisdom. Be proud, therefore, of being my slaves,
O Russians, and regard my will as your law.'

"We listened to these words with deep reverence, and
gave a tacit consent; and what was the result? Under
mountains of official papers real interests were forgotten.
The letter of the law was observed, but negligence and crime
were allowed to go unpunished. While grovelling in the
dust before ministers and directors of departments, in the
hope of receiving tchins and decorations, the officials stole
unblushingly ; and theft became so common that he who
stole the most was the most respected. The merits of officers
were decided at reviews ; and he who obtained the rank of
General was supposed capable of becoming at once an able
governor, an excellent engineer, or a most wise senator.
Those who were appointed governors were for the most part
genuine satraps, the scourges of the provinces entrusted to
their care. The other offices were filled up with as little
attention to the merits of the candidates. A stable-boy
became Press Censor ! an Imperial fool became admiral ! !
Kleinmichel became a count ! ! ! In a word, the country was
handed over to the tender mercies of a band of robbers.

"And what did we Russians do all this time?

"We Russians slept ! With groans the peasant paid his
yearly dues ; with groans the proprietor mortgaged the
second half of his estate; groaning, we all paid our heavy
tribute to the officials. Occasionally, with a grave shaking
of the head, we remarked in a whisper that it was a shame
and a disgrace — that there was no justice in the courts —
that millions were squandered on Imperial tours, kiosks, and

MANUSCRIPT LITERATURE 447

pavilions — that everything was wrong; and then, with an
easy conscience, we sat down to our rubber, praised the act-
ing of Rachel, criticised the singing of Frezzolini, bowed
low to venal magnates, and squabbled with each other for
advancement in the very service which v^^e so severely con-
demned. If we did not obtain the place we wished we retired
to our ancestral estates, where we talked of the crops, fattened
in indolence and gluttony, and lived a genuine animal life.
If anyone, amidst the general lethargy, suddenly called
upon us to rise and fight for the truth and for Russia, how
ridiculous did he appear ! How cleverly the Pharisaical
official ridiculed him, and how quickly the friends of yester-
day showed him the cold shoulder ! Under the anathema
of public opinion, in some distant Siberian mine he recog-
nised what a heinous sin it was to disturb the heavy sleep
of apathetic slaves. Soon he was forgotten, or remembered
as an unfortunate madman ; and the few who said, ' Perhaps
after all he was right,' hastened to add, ' but that is none
of our business.'

"But amidst all this we had at least one consolation,
one thing to be proud of — the might of Russia in the
assembly of kings. ' What need we care,' we said, * for
the reproaches of foreign nations ? We are stronger than
those who reproach us.' And when at great reviews the
stately regiments marched past with waving standards,
glittering helmets, and sparkling bayonets, when we heard
the loud hurrah with which the troops greeted the Emperor,
then our hearts swelled with patriotic pride, and we were
ready to repeat the w^ords of the poet —

' Strong is our native country, and great the Russian Tsar ! '

Then British statesmen, in company with the crowned
conspirator of France, and with treacherous Austria, raised
Western Europe against us, but we laughed scornfully at
the coming storm. 'Let the nations rave,' we said; 'we
have no cause to be afraid. The Tsar doubtless foresaw
all, and has long since made the necessary preparations.'
Boldly we went forth to fight, and confidently awaited the
moment of the struggle.

"And lo ! after all our boasting we were taken by surprise,

448 RUSSIA

and caught unawares, as by a robber in the dark. The sleep
of innate stupidity blinded our Ambassadors, and our
Foreign Minister sold us to our enemies.* Where were our
millions of soldiers ? Where was the well-considered plan
of defence ? One courier brought the order to advance ;
another brought the order to retreat ; and the army wandered
about without definite aim or purpose. With loss and shame
we retreated from the forts of Silistria, and the pride of
Russia was humbled before the Habsburg eagle. The
soldiers fought well, but the parade-admiral (Menshikov)
— the amphibious hero of lost battles — did not know the
geography of his own country, and sent his troops to certain
destruction.

"Awake, O Russia! Devoured by foreign enemies,
crushed by slavery, shamefully oppressed by stupid authori-
ties and spies, awaken from your long sleep of ignorance
and apathy ! You have been long enough held in bondage
by the successors of the Mongol Khan. Stand forward calmly
before the throne of the despot, and demand from him an
account of the national disaster. Say to him boldly that his
throne is not the altar of God, and that God did not condemn
us to be slaves. Russia entrusted to you, O Tsar, the
supreme power, and you were as a God upon earth. And
what have you done ? Blinded by ignorance and passion,
you have lusted after power and have forgotten Russia.
You have spent your life in reviewing troops, in modifying
uniforms, and in appending your signature to the legislative
projects of ignorant charlatans. You created the despicable
race of Press Censors, in order to sleep in peace — in order
not to know the wants and not to hear the groans of the
people — in order not to listen to Truth. You buried Truth,
rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, placed a
strong guard over it, and said in the pride of your heart :
For her there is no resurrection ! But the third day has
dawned, and Truth has arisen from the dead.

"Stand forward, O Tsar, before the judgment-seat of
history and of God ! You have mercilessly trampled Truth
under foot, you have denied Freedom, you have been the

• Many people at that time imagined that Count Ncspclrodc, who was then
Minister for Foreign Affairs, was a traitor to his adopted country.

A CONSCIENTIOUS PUBLIC 449

slave of your own passions. By your pride and obstinacy
you have exhausted Russia and raised the world in arms
against us. Bow down before your brethren and humble
yourself in the dust ! Crave pardon and ask advice ! Throw
yourself into the arms of the people ! There is now no other
salvation ! "

The innumerable tirades of which the above is a fair
specimen were not very remarkable for literary merit or
political wisdom. For the most part they were simply bits
of bombastic rhetoric couched in doggerel rhyme, and they
have consequently been long since consigned to well-merited
oblivion — so completely that it is now difficult to obtain
copies of them.* They have, however, an historical interest,
because they express in a more or less exaggerated form the
public opinion and prevalent ideas of the educated classes
at that moment. In order to comprehend their real signific-
ance, we must remember that the writers and readers were
not a band of conspirators, but ordinary, respectable, well-
intentioned people, who never for a moment dreamed of
embarking in revolutionary designs. It w^as the same society
that had been a few months before so indifferent to all
political questions, and even now there was no clear con-
ception as to how the loud-sounding phrases could be trans-
lated into action. We can imagine the comical discomfiture
of those who read and listened to these appeals, if the
"despot " had obeyed their summons, and suddenly appeared
before them !

Was the movement, then, merely an outburst of childish
petulance? Certainly not. The public were really and
seriously convinced that things were all wrong, and they
were seriously and enthusiastically desirous that a new and
better order of things should be introduced. It must be
said to their honour that they did not content themselves
with accusing and lampooning the individuals who were
supposed to be the chief culprits. On the contrary, they
looked reality boldly in the face, made a public confession
of their past sins, sought conscientiously the causes which
had produced the recent disasters, and endeavoured to find

* I am indebted for the copies which I possess to friends who copied and
collected these pamphlets at the time.
P

450 RUSSIA

means by which such calamities might be prevented in the
future. The public feeling and aspirations were not strong
enough to conquer the traditional respect for the Imperial
will and create an open opposition to the Autocratic Power,
but they were strong enough to do great things by aiding
the Government, if the Emperor voluntarily undertook a
series of radical reforms.

What Nicholas would have done, had he lived, in face
of this national awakening, it is difficult to say. He declared,
indeed, that he could not change, and we can readily believe
that his proud spirit would have scorned to make concessions
to the principles which he had always condemned; but he
gave decided indications in the last days of his life that his
old faith in his system was somewhat shaken, and he did
not exhort his son to persevere in the path along which he
himself had forced his way with such obstinate consistency.
It is useless, however, to speculate on possibilities. Whilst
the Government had still to concentrate all its energies on
the defence of the country, the Iron Tsar died, and was
succeeded by his son, a man of a very different type.

Of a kind-hearted, humane disposition, sincerely desirous
of maintaining the national honour, but singularly free from
military ambition and imbued with no fanatical belief in the
drill-sergeant system of government, Alexander II. was by
no means insensible to the spirit of the time. He had, how-
ever, none of the sentimental enthusiasm for liberal institu-
tions which had characterised his uncle, Alexander I. On
the contrary, he had inherited from his father a strong dislike
to sentimentalism and rhetoric of all kinds. This dislike,
joined to a goodly portion of sober common sense, a limited
confidence in his own judgment, and a consciousness of
enormous responsibility, prevented him from being carried
away by the prevailing excitement. With all that was
generous and humane in the movement he thoroughly
sympathised, and he allowed the popular ideas and aspira-
tions to find free utterance; but he did not at once commit
himself to any definite policy, and carefully refrained from
all exaggerated expressions of reforming zeal.

As soon, however, as peace had been concluded, there
were unmistakable symptoms that the rigorously repressive

THE NEW SPIRIT 45i

system of Nicholas was about to be abandoned. In the
manifesto announcing the termination of hostilities the
Emperor expressed his conviction that by the combined
efforts of the Government and the people, the public adminis-
tration would be improved, and that justice and mercy would
reign in the courts of law. Apparently as a preparation for
this great work, to be undertaken by the Tsar and his people
in common, the ministers began to take the public into their
confidence, and submitted to public criticism many official
data which had hitherto been regarded as State secrets.
The Minister of the Interior, for instance, in his annual
report, spoke almost in the tone of a penitent, and confessed
openly that the morality of the officials under his orders
left much to be desired. He declared that the Emperor now
showed a paternal confidence in his people, and as a proof
of this he mentioned the significant fact that 9,000 persons
had been liberated from police supervision. The other
branches of the Administration underwent a similar trans-
formation. The haughty, dictatorial tone which had hitherto
been used by superiors to their subordinates, and by all
ranks of officials to the public, was replaced by one of con-
siderate politeness. About the same time the few Decem-
brists who were still alive were pardoned. The restrictions
regarding the number of students in each university were
abolished, the difficulty of obtaining foreign passports was
removed, and the Press censure became singularly indulgent.
Though no decided change had been made in the laws, it
was universally felt that the spirit of Nicholas was no more.
The public, anxiously seeking after a sign, readily took
these symptoms of change as a complete confirmation of their
ardent hopes, and leaped at once to the conclusion that a
vast, all-embracing system of radical reform was about to
be undertaken — not secretly by the Administration, as had
been the custom in the preceding reign when any little
changes had to be made, but publicly, by the Government
and the people in common, "The heart trembles with joy,"
said one of the leading organs of the Press, "in expectation
of the great social reforms that are about to be effected^ —
reforms that are thoroughly in accordance with the spirit,
the wishes, and the expectations of the public." "The old

452 RUSSIA

harmony and community of feeling," said another, "which
has always existed between the Government and the people,
save during short exceptional periods, has been fully re-
established. The absence of all sentiment of caste, and the
feeling of common origin and brotherhood which binds all
classes of the Russian people into a homogeneous whole,
will enable Russia to accomplish peacefully and without
effort not only those great reforms which cost Europe
centuries of struggle and bloodshed, but also many which
the nations of the West are still unable to accomplish, in
consequence of feudal traditions and caste prejudices." The
past was depicted in the blackest colours, and the nation
was called upon to begin a new and glorious epoch of its
history. "We have to struggle," it was said, "in the name
of the highest truth against egotism and the puny interests
of the moment; and we ought to prepare our children from
their infancy to take part in that struggle which awaits every
honest man. We have to thank the war for opening our
eyes to the dark sides of our political and social organisation,
and it is now our duty to profit by the lesson. But it must
not be supposed that the Government can, single-handed,
remedy the defects. The destinies of Russia are, as it were,
a stranded vessel which the captain and crew cannot move,
and which nothing, indeed, but the rising tide of the national
life can raise and float."

Hearts beat quicker at the sound of these calls to action.
Many heard this new teaching, if we may believe a contem-
porary authority, "with tears in their eyes"; then, "raising
boldly their heads, they made a solemn vow that they would
act honourably, perseveringly, fearlessly." Some of those
who had formerly yielded to the force of circumstances now
confessed their misdemeanours with bitterness of heart.
"Tears of repentance," said a popular poet, "give relief,
and call us to new exploits." Russia was compared to a
strong giant who awakes from sleep, stretches his brawny
limbs, collects his thoughts, and prepares to atone for his
long inactivity by feats of untold prowess. All believed,
or at least assumed, that the recognition of defects would
necessarily entail their removal. When an actor in one of
the St. Petersburg theatres shouted from the stage, "Let

PERIODICAL LITERATURE 453

us proclaim throughout all Russia that the time has come
for tearing up evil by the roots ! " the audience gave way
to the most frantic enthusiasm. "Altogether a joyful time,"
says one who took part in the excitement, "as when, after
the long winter, the genial breath of spring glides over the
cold, petrified earth, and nature awakens from her deathlike
sleep. Speech, long restrained by police and censorial
regulations, now flows smoothly, majestically, like a mighty
river that has just been freed from ice."

Under these influences a multitude of newspapers and
periodicals were founded, and the current literature entirely
changed its character. The purely literary and historical
questions which had chiefly engaged the attention of the
reading public were thrown aside and forgotten, unless they
could be made to illustrate some principle of political or
social science. Criticisms on style and diction, explanations
of aesthetic principles, metaphysical discussions — all this
seemed miserable trifling to men who wished to devote them-
selves to gigantic practical interests. "Science," it was said,
"has now descended from the heights of philosophic abstrac-
tion into the arena of real life." The periodicals were
accordingly filled with articles on railways, banks, free
trade, education, agriculture, communal institutions, local
self-government, joint-stock companies, and with crushing
philippics against personal and national vanity, inordinate
luxury, administrative tyranny, and the habitual peculation
of the officials.

This last-named subject received special attention.
During the preceding reign any attempt to criticise publicly
the character or acts of an official was regarded as a very
heinous offence; now there was a deluge of sketches, tales,
comedies, and monologues, describing the corruption of the
Administration, and explaining the ingenious devices by
which the tchinovniks increased their scanty salaries. The
public would read nothing that had not a direct or indirect
bearing on the questions of the day, and whatever had such
a bearing was read with interest. It did not seem at all
strange that a drama should be written in defence of free
trade, or a poem in advocacy of some peculiar mode of taxa-
tion ; that an author should expound his political ideas in a

454 RUSSIA

tale, and his antagonist reply by a comedy. A few men of
the old school protested feebly against this "prostitution of
art," but they received little attention, and the doctrine that
art should be cultivated for its own sake was scouted as an
invention of aristocratic indolence. Here is an ipsa pinxit
of the literature of the time : — "Literature has come to look
at Russia with her own eyes, and sees that the idyllic
romantic personages which the poets formerly loved to
describe have no objective existence. Having taken off her
French glove, she offers her hand to the rude, hard-working
labourer, and observing lovingly Russian village life, she
feels herself in her native land. The writers of the present
have analysed the past, and, having separated themselves
from aristocratic litterateurs and aristocratic society, have
demolished their former idols."

By far the most influential periodical at the commence-
ment of the movement was the Kolokol, or Bell, a fortnightly
journal published in London by Herzen, who was at that
time an important personage among the political refugees.
Herzen w-as a man of education and culture, with ultra-
radical opinions, and not averse from using revolutionary
methods of reform when he considered them necessary. His
intimate relations with many of the leading men in Russia
enabled him to obtain secret information of the most import-
ant and varied kind, and his sparkling wit, biting satire,
and clear, terse, brilliant style secured him a large number
of readers. He seemed to know everything that was done
in the ministries and even in the Cabinet of the Emperor,*
and he exposed most mercilessly every abuse that came to
his knowledge. We who are accustomed to free political
discussion can hardly form a conception of the avidity with
which his articles were read, and the effect which they pro-
duced. Though strictly prohibited by the Press censure,
the Kolokol found its way across the frontier in thousands
of copies, and was eagerly perused and commented on by

* As an illustration of this, the following anecdote is told : — One number of
the Kdlokol contained a violent attack on an important personage of the
Court, and the accused, or some one of his friends, considered it advisable to
have a copy of the paper specially printed for the Emperor without the
objectionable article. The Emperor did not at first discover the trick, but
shortly afterwards he received from I^ondon a polite note containing the
article which had been omitted, and informing him how he had been deceived.

THE CONSERVATIVES 455

all ranks of the educated classes. The Emperor himself
received it regularly, and high-placed delinquents examined
it with fear and trembling. In this way Herzen was for
some years, though an exile, an important political person-
age, and did much to awaken and keep up the reform
'enthusiasm.

But where were the Conservatives all this time ? How
came it that for two or three years no voice was raised and
no protest made even against the rhetorical exaggerations of
the new-born liberalism ? Where were the representatives
of the old regime, who had been so thoroughly imbued with
the spirit of Nicholas? Where were those ministers who
had systematically extinguished the least indication of
private initiative, those "satraps" who had stamped out
the least symptom of insubordination or discontent, those
Press Censors who had diligently suppressed the mildest
expression of liberal opinion, those thousands of well-
intentioned proprietors who had regarded as dangerous free-
thinkers and treasonable republicans all who ventured to
express dissatisfaction w'ith the existing state of things ? A
short time before, the Conservatives composed at least nine-
tenths of the upper classes, and now they had suddenly
and mysteriously disappeared.

It is scarcely necessary to say that in a country
accustomed to political life, such a sudden, unopposed
revolution in public opinion could not possibly take place.
The key to the mystery lies in the fact that for centuries
Russia had known nothing of political life or political
parties. Those who were sometimes called Conservatives
were in reality not Conservatives in our sense of the
term. If we say that they had a certain amount of Con-
servatism, we must add that it was of the latent, passive,
unreasoned kind — the fruit of indolence and apathy. Their
political creed had but one article : Thou shalt love the Tsar
with all thy might, and carefully abstain from all resistance
to his will — especially when it happens that the Tsar is a
man of the Nicholas type. So long as Nicholas lived they
had passively acquiesced in his svstem — active acquiescence
had been neither demanded nor desired — but when he died,
the system of which he was the soul died with him.

456 RUSSIA

What then could they seek to defend? They were told
that the system which they had been taught to regard as
the sheet-anchor of the State was in reality the chief cause
of the national disasters; and to this they could make no
reply, because they had no better explanation of their own
to offer. They were convinced that the Russian soldier was
the best soldier in the world, and they knew that in the
recent war the army had not been victorious; the system,
therefore, must be to blame. They were told that a series
of gigantic reforms was necessary in order to restore Russia
to her proper place among the nations ; and to this they
could make no answer, for they had never studied such
abstract questions. And one thing they did know : that
those who hesitated to admit the necessity of gigantic reforms
were branded by the Press as ignorant, narrow-minded,
prejudiced, and egotistical, and were held up to derision as
men who did not know the most elementary principles of
political and economic science. Freely expressed public
opinion was such a new phenomenon in Russia that the
Press was able for some time to exercise a "Liberal " tyranny
scarcely less severe than the "Conservative" tyranny of
the Censors in the preceding reign. Men who would have
stood fire gallantly on the field of battle quailed before the
poisoned darts of Herzen in the Kolokol. Under such
circumstances, even the few who possessed some vague Con-
servative convictions refrained from publicly expressing them.

The men who had played a more or less active part
during the preceding reign, and who might therefore be
expected to have clearer and deeper convictions, were
specially incapable of offering opposition to the prevailing
Liberal enthusiasm. Their Conservatism was of quite as
limp a kind as that of the landed proprietors who were not
in the public service, for under Nicholas the higher a man
was placed the less likely was he to have political convictions
of any kind outside the simple political creed above referred
to. Besides this, they belonged to that class which was
for the moment under the anathema of public opinion, and
they had drawn direct personal advantage from the system
which was now recognised as the chief cause of the national
disasters.

ENTHUSIASM FOR REFORM 457

For a time the name of tchinovnik became a term of
reproach and derision, and the position of those who bore
it was comically painful. They strove to prove that, though
they held a post in the public service, they were entirely
free from the tchinovnik spirit — that there was nothing of
the genuine tchinovnik about them. Those who had formerly
paraded their tchin (official rank) on all occasions, in season
and out of season, became half ashamed to admit that they
had the rank of General; for the title no longer commanded
respect, and had become associated with all that was anti-
quated, formal, and stupid. Among the young generation
it was used most disrespectfully as equivalent to "pompous
blockhead." Zealous officials who had lately regarded the
acquisition of stars and orders as among the chief ends
of man, were fain to conceal those hard- won trophies, lest
some cynical "Liberal " might notice them and make them
the butt of his satire. "Look at the depth of humiliation
to which you have brought the country "■ — ^such was the
chorus of reproach that was ever ringing in their ears —
"with your red tape, your Chinese formalism, and your
principle of lifeless, unreasoning, mechanical obedience !
You asserted constantly that you were the only true patriots,
and branded with the name of traitor those who warned
you of the insane folly of your conduct. You see now
what it has all come to. The men whom you helped
to send to the mines turn out to have been the true
patriots." *

And to these reproaches what could they reply ? Like
a child who has in his frolics inadvertently set the house
on fire, they could only look contrite, and say they did not
mean it. They had simply accepted without criticism the
existing order of things, and ranged themselves among those
who were officially recognised as "the well-intentioned." If
they had always avoided the Liberals, and perhaps helped
to persecute them, it was simply because all "well-inten-
tioned" people said that Liberals were "restless" and

* It was a common saying at that time that nearly all the best men in
Russia had spent a part of their lives in Siberia, and it was proposed to publish
a biographical dictionary of remarkable men, in which every article was to end

thus: " Exiled to in i8 — ." I am not aware how far the project was

seriously entertained, but, of course, the book was never published.

458 RUSSIA

dangerous to the State. Those who were not convinced of
their errors simply kept silence, but the great majority
passed over to the ranks of the Progressists, and many
endeavoured to redeem their past by showing extreme zeal
for the Liberal cause.

In explanation of this extraordinary outburst of reform
enthusiasm, we must further remember that the Russian
educated classes, in spite of the severe northern climate
which is supposed to make the blood circulate slowly, are
extremely impulsive. They are fettered by no venerable
historical prejudices, and are wonderfully sensitive to the
seductive influence of grandiose projects, especially when
these excite the patriotic feelings. Then there was the simple
force of reaction — the rebound which naturally followed the
terrific compression of the preceding reign. Without dis-
respect, the Russians of that time may be compared to
schoolboys who have just escaped from the rigorous discip-
line of a severe schoolmaster. In the first moments of
freedom it was supposed that there would be no more
discipline or compulsion. The utmost respect was to be
shown to "human dignity," and every Russian was to act
spontaneously and zealously at the great work of national
regeneration. All thirsted for reforming activity. The men
in authority were inundated with projects of reform — some
of them anonymous, and others from obscure individuals;
some of them practical, and very many wildly fantastic.
Even the grammarians showed their sympathy with the
spirit of the time by proposing to expel summarily all
redundant letters from the Russian alphabet !

The fact that very few people had clear, precise ideas
as to what was to be done did not prevent, but rather tended
to increase, the reform enthusiasm. All had at least one
common feeling — dislike to what had previously existed. It
was only when it became necessary to forsake pure negation,
and to create something, that the conceptions became clearer,
and a variety of opinions appeared. At the first moment
there was merely unanimity in negation, and an impulsive
enthusiasm for beneficent reforms in general.

The first specific proposals were direct deductions from
the lessons taught by the war. The war had shown in a

FIRST SPECIFIC PROPOSALS 459

terrible way the disastrous consequences of having merely
primitive means of communication ; the Press and the public
began, accordingly, to speak about the necessity of construct-
ing railways, roads, and river steamers. The war had shown
that a country which has not developed its natural resources
very soon becomes exhausted if it has to make a great
national effort; accordingly the public and the Press talked
about the necessity of developing the natural resources, and
about the means by which this desirable end might be
attained. It had been shown by the war that a system of
education which tends to make men mere apathetic automa-
tons cannot produce even a good army; accordingly the
public and the Press began to discuss the different systems
of education and the numerous questions of pedagogical
science. It had been shown by the war that the best inten-
tions of a Government will necessarily be frustrated if the
majority of the officials are dishonest or incapable; accord-
ingly the public and the Press began to speak about the
paramount necessity of reforming the Administration in all
its branches.

It must not, however, be supposed that in thus laying
to heart the lessons taught by the war and endeavouring to
profit by them the Russians were actuated by warlike feel-
ings, and desired to avenge themselves as soon as possible
on their victorious enemies. On the contrary, the whole
movement and the spirit which animated it were eminently
pacific. Prince Gortchakov's saying, "La Russie ne boude
pas, elle se recueille," was more than a diplomatic repartee
— it was a true and graphic statement of the case. Though
the Russians are very inflammable, and can be very violent
when their patriotic feelings are aroused, they are, indi-
vidually and as a nation, singularly free from rancour and
the spirit of revenge. After the termination of hostilities
they really bore little malice towards the Western Powers,
except towards Austria, which was believed to have been
treacherous and ungrateful to the country that had saved
her in 1849. Their patriotism now took the form, not of
revenge, but of a desire to raise their country to the level
of the Western nations. If they thought of military matters
at all, they assumed that military power would be obtained

46o RUSSIA

as a natural and inevitable result of high civilisation and
good government.

As a first step towards the realisation of the vast schemes
contemplated, voluntary associations began to be formed for
industrial and commercial purposes, and a law was issued
for the creation of limited liability companies. In the space
of two years, forty-seven companies of this kind were
founded, with a combined capital of 358,000,000 roubles.
To understand the full significance of these figures, we must
know that from the founding of the first joint-stock company
in 1799 down to 1853 only twenty-six companies had been
formed, and their united capital amounted only to
32,000,000 roubles. Thus in the space of two years
(1857-58) eleven times as much capital was subscribed
to joint-stock companies as had been subscribed during
half a century previous to the war. The most exaggerated
expectations were entertained as to the national and private
advantages which must necessarily result from these under-
takings, and it became a patriotic duty to subscribe liberally.
The periodical literature depicted in glowing terms the
marvellous results that had been obtained in other countries
by the principle of co-operation, and sanguine readers
believed that they had discovered a patriotic way of speedily
becoming rich.

These were, however, mere secondary matters, and the
public were anxiously waiting for the Government to begin
the grand reforming campaign. When the educated classes
awoke to the necessity of great reforms, there was no clear
conception as to how the great work should be undertaken.
There was so much to be done that it was no easy matter
to decide what should be done first. Administrative, judicial,
social, economic, financial, and political reforms seemed all
equally pressing. Gradually, however, it became evident
that precedence must be given to the question of serfage.
It was absurd to speak about progress, humanitarianism,
education, self-government, equality in the eye of the law,
and similar matters, so long as one-half of the population
was excluded from the enjoyment of ordinary civil rights. So
long as serfage existed it was mere mockery to talk about
reorganising Russia according to the latest results of

THE SERF QUESTION 461

political and social science. How could a system of even-
handed justice be introduced when 20,000,000 of the
peasantry were subject to the arbitrary will of the landed
proprietors ? How could agricultural or industrial progress
be made without free labour ? How could the Government
take active measures for the spread of national education
when it had no direct control over one-half of the peasantry ?
Above all, how could it be hoped that a great moral re-
generation could take place so long as the nation voluntarily
retained the stigma of serfage and slavery ?

All this was very generally felt by the educated classes,
but no one ventured to raise the question until it should be
know^n what were the views of the Emperor on the subject.
How the question was gradually raised, how it was
treated by the nobles, and how it was ultimately solved by the
famous law of February 19th (March 3rd), 1861,* I now
propose to relate.

* February 19th according to the old style, which is still used in Russia,
and March 3rd according to our method of reckoning.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE SERFS

Before proceeding to describe the Emancipation, it may be
well to explain briefly how the Russian peasants became
serfs, and what serfage in Russia really was.

In the earliest period of Russian history the rural popu-
lation was composed of three distinct classes. At the bottom
of the scale stood the slaves, who were very numerous.
Their numbers were continually augmented by prisoners of
war, by freemen who voluntarily sold themselves as slaves,
by insolvent debtors, and by certain categories of criminals.
Immediately above the slaves were the free agricultural
labourers, who had no permanent domicile, but wandered
about the country and settled temporarily where they hap-
pened to find W'Ork and satisfactory remuneration. In the
third place, distinct from these two classes, and in some
respects higher in the social scale, were the peasants properly
so called.*

These peasants proper, who may be roughly described
as small farmers or cottiers, were distinguished from the free
agricultural labourers in two respects : they were possessors
of land in property or usufruct, and they were members of
a rural Commune. The Communes were free primitive cor-
porations which elected their office-bearers from among the
heads of families, and sent delegates to act as judges or
assessors in the Prince's Court. Some of the Communes
possessed land of their own, whilst others were settled on
the estates of the landed proprietors or on the extensive
domains of the monasteries. In the latter case the peasant
paid a fixed yearly rent in money, in produce, or in labour,
according to the terms of his contract with the proprietor
or the monastery ; but he did not thereby sacrifice in any

* My chief authority for the early history of the peasantry has been B^ldev,
" Krestydnye na Rusf, " Moscow, i860; a most able and conscientious work.

462

EIGHTEENTH CENTURY PEASANTS 463

way his personal liberty. As soon as he had fulfilled the
engagements stipulated in the contract and had settled
accounts with the owner of the land, he was free to change
his domicile as he pleased.

If we turn now from these early times to the eighteenth
century, we find that the position of the rural population
has entirely changed in the interval. The distinction be-
tween slaves, agricultural labourers, and peasants has com-
pletely disappeared. All three categories have melted to-
gether into a common class, called serfs, who are regarded
as the property of the landed proprietors or of the State.
"The proprietors sell their peasants and domestic servants
not even in families, but one by one, like cattle, as is done
nowhere else in the whole world, from which practice there
is not a little wailing." * And yet the Government, whilst
professing to regret the existence of the practice, takes no
energetic measures to prevent it. On the contrary, it de-
prives the serfs of all legal protection, and expressly com-
mands that if any serf shall dare to present a petition against
his master, he shall be punished with the knout and trans-
ported for life to the mines of Nertchinsk. (Ukaz of August
22nd, 1767.)!

How did this important change take place, and how is it
to be explained?

If we ask any educated Russian who has never specially
occupied himself with historical investigations regarding
the origin of serfage in Russia, he will probably reply some-
what in this fashion: "In Russia slavery has never
existed ( !), and even serfage in the West-European sense
has never been recognised by law ! In ancient times the
rural population w^as completely free, and every peasant
might change his domicile on St. George's Day — that is to
say, at the end of the agricultural year. This right of migra-
tion w-as abolished by Tsar Boris Godunov — who, by the
way, was half a Tartar and more than half a usurper — and
herein lies the essence of serfage in the Russian sense. The

* Thesp words are taken from an Imperial ukaz of April 15th, 1721.
P6Inoye Sobrdn\'e Zak6nov, No. 3,770.

t This is an ukaz of the liberal and tolerant Catherine ! How she reconciled
it with her respect and admiration for Beccaria's humane views on criminal
law she does not explain.

464 RUSSIA

peasants have never been the property of the landed pro-
prietors, but have always been personally free; and the only
legal restriction on their liberty was that they were not
allowed to change their domicile without the permission of
the proprietor. If so-called serfs were sometimes sold, the
practice was simply an abuse not justified by legislation."

This simple explanation, in which may be detected a note
of patriotic pride, is almost universally accepted in Russia ;
but it contains, like most popular conceptions of the
distant past, a curious mixture of fact and fiction. Serious
historical investigation tends to show that the power of the
proprietors over the peasants came into existence, not
suddenly, as the result of an ukaz, but gradually, as a conse-
quence of permanent economic and political causes, and that
Boris Godunov was not more to blame than many of his
predecessors and successors.*

Although the peasants in ancient Russia were free to
wander about as they chose, there appeared at a very early
period — long before the reign of Boris Godunov — a decided
tendency in the princes, in the proprietors, and in the Com-
munes, to prevent migration. This tendency will be easily
understood if we remember that land without labourers is
useless, and that in Russia at that time the population was
small in comparison with the amount of reclaimed and easily
reclaimable land. The prince desired to have as many in-
habitants as possible in his principality, because the amount
of his regular revenues depended on the number of the popu-
lation. The landed proprietor desired to have as many
peasants as possible on his estate, to till for him the land
which he reserved for his own use, and to pay him for the
remainder a yearly rent in money, produce, or labour. The
free Communes desired to have a number of members suffi-
cient to keep the whole of the Communal land under culti-
vation, because each Commune had to pay yearly to the
prince a fixed sum in money or agricultural produce, and
the greater the number of able-bodied members, the less each
individual had to pay. To use the language of political

* See especially Pobfidonostsev, in the Hiisski Vestnik, 1858, No. 11, and
" Istoritcheskiva izslSdovaniya statyf " (St. Petersburg, 1876), by the same
author ; also Pog6din, in the Riisskaya Beseda, 1858, No. 4.

COMMUNES AND THE SERFS 465

economy, the princes, the landed proprietors, and the free
Communes all appeared as buyers in the labour market;
and the demand was far in excess of the supply.

Nowadays, when young colonies or landed proprietors in
an outlying corner of the world are similarly in need of
labour, they seek to supply the want by organising a regular
system of importing labourers — using illegal violent means,
such as kidnapping expeditions, merely as an exceptional
expedient. In old Russia any such regularly organised
system was impossible, and consequently illegal or violent
measures were not the exception, but the rule. The chief
practical advantage of the frequent military expeditions for
those who took part in them was the acquisition of prisoners
of war, who were commonly transformed into slaves by their
captors. If it be true, as some assert, that only unbaptised
prisoners were legally considered lawful booty, it is certain
that in practice before the unification of the principalities
under the Tsars of Moscow, little distinction was made in
this respect between unbaptised foreigners and Orthodox
Russians.* A similar method was sometimes employed for
the acquisition of free peasants : the more powerful pro-
prietors organised kidnapping expeditions, and carried off
by force the peasants settled on the land of their weaker
neighbours.

Under these circumstances it was only natural that those
who possessed this valuable commodity should do all in their
power to keep it. Many, if not all, of the free Communes
adopted the simple measure of refusing to allow a member
to depart until he had found someone to take his place. The
proprietors never, so far as we know, laid down formally
such a principle, but in practice they did all in their power
to retain the peasants actually settled on their estates. For
this purpose some simply employed force, whilst others acted
under cover of legal formalities. The peasant who accepted
land from a proprietor rarely brought with him the neces-
sary implements, cattle, and capital to begin at once his
occupations, and to feed himself and his family till the

* On this subject see Tchitch6rin, " Opyty po istorii russl^iigo prava,"
Moscow, 1858, p. 162 et seq. ; and Lokhvitski, " O pltMinyUh po drdvneinu
russkomu prdvu," Moscow, 1855.

466 RUSSIA

ensuing harvest. He was obliged, therefore, to borrow from
his landlord, and the debt thus contracted was easily con-
verted into a means of preventing his departure if he wished
to change his domicile. We need not enter into further
details. The proprietors were the capitalists of the time.
Frequent bad harvests, plagues, fires, military raids, and
similar misfortunes, often reduced even prosperous peasants
to beggary. The muzhik was probably then, as now, only
too ready to accept a loan without taking the necessary
precautions for repaying it. The laws relating to debt were
terribly severe, and there was no powerful judicial organisa-
tion to protect the weak. If we remember all this, we shall
not be surprised to learn that a considerable part of the
peasantry were practically serfs before serfage was recognised
by law.

So long as the country was broken up into independent
principalities, and each landowner was almost an independent
prince on his estate, the peasants easily found a remedy for
these abuses in flight. They fled to a neighbouring pro-
prietor who could protect them from their former landlord
and his claims, or they took refuge in a neighbouring prin-
cipality, where they were, of course, still safer. All this was
changed when the independent principalities were trans-
formed into the Tsardom of Muscovy. The Tsars had new
reasons for opposing the migration of the peasants and new
means for preventing it. The old princes had simply given
grants of land to those who served them, and left the grantee
to do with his land what seemed good to him ; the Tsars,
on the contrary, gave to those who served them merely the
usufruct of a certain quantity of land, and carefully propor-
tioned the quantity to the rank and the obligations of the
receiver.

In this change there was plainly a new reason for fixing
the peasants to the soil. The real value of a grant depended
not so much on the amount of land as on the number of
peasants settled on it, and hence any migration of the popu-
lation was tantamount to a removal of the ancient landmarks
— that is to say, to a disturbance of the arrangements made
by the Tsar. Suppose, for instance, that the Tsar granted
to a Doydr or some lesser dignitary an estate on which were

SEVERE FUGITIVE LAWS 467

settled a hundred peasant families, and that afterwards fifty
of these emigrated to neighbouring proprietors. In this case
the recipient might justly complain that he had lost half of
his estate— though the amount of land was in no way
diminished — and tiiat he was consequently unable to fulfil
his obligations. Such complaints would be rarely, if ever,
made by the great dignitaries, for they had the means of
attracting peasants to their estates;* but the small pro-
prietors had good reason to complain, and the Tsar was
bound to remove their grievances. The attaching of the
peasants to the soil was, in fact, the natural consequence of
feudal tenures — an integral part of the Muscovite political
system. The Tsar compelled the nobles to serve him, and
was unable to pay them in money. He was obliged, there-
fore, to procure for them some other means of livelihood.
Evidently the simplest method of solving the difficulty was
to give them land, with a certain number of labourers, and
to prevent the labourers from migrating.

Towards the free Communes the Tsars had to act in the
same way for similar reasons. The Communes, like the
nobles, had obligations to the Sovereign, and could not fulfil
them if the peasants were allowed to migrate from one locality
to another. They were, in a certain sense, the property of
the Tsar, and it was only natural that the Tsar should do
for himself what he had done for his nobles.

With these new reasons for fixing the peasants to the
soil came, as has been said, new means of preventing migra-
tion. Formerly it was an easy matter to flee to a neighbour-
ing principality, but now all the principalities were combined
under one ruler, and the foundations of a centralised ad-
ministration were laid. Severe fugitive laws were issued
against those who attempted to change their domicile and
against the proprietors who should harbour the runaways.
Unless the peasant chose to face the difficulties of "squat-
ting" in the inhospitable northern forests, or resolved to

* There are plain indications in the documents of the time that the great
dignitaries were at first hostile to the adscriptio glebes. We find a similar
phenomenon at a much more recent date in Little Russia. Long after serfage
had been legalised in that region by Catherine IL, the great proprietors, such
as Rumyantsev, Razumovski, Bezborodko, continued to attract to their estates
the peasants of the smaller proprietors. See the article of Pog6din in the
Rtisskaya Beseda, 1858, No. 4, p. 154.

468 RUSSIA

brave the dangers of the Steppe, he could nowhere escape
the heavy hand of Moscow.*

The indirect consequences of thus attaching the peasants
to the soil did not at once become apparent. The serf
retained all the civil rights he had hitherto enjoyed, except
that of changing his domicile. He could still appear before
the courts of law as a free man, freely engage in trade or
industry, enter into all manner of contracts, and rent land
for cultivation.

But as time wore on, the change in the legal relation
between the two classes became apparent in real life. In
attaching the peasantry to the soil, the Government had been
so thoroughly engrossed with the direct financial aim that
it entirely overlooked, or wilfully shut its eyes to, the
ulterior consequences which must necessarily flow from the
policy it adopted. It was evident that as soon as the rela-
tion between proprietor and peasant was removed from the
region of voluntary contract by being rendered indissoluble,
the weaker of the two parties legally tied together must fall
completely under the power of the stronger unless energetic-
ally protected by the law and the Administration. To
this inevitable consequence the Government paid no atten-
tion. So far from endeavouring to protect the peasantry
from the oppression of the proprietors, it did not even de-
termine by law the mutual obligations which ought to exist
between the two classes. Taking advantage of this omission,
the proprietors soon began to impose whatever obligations
they thought fit; and as they had no legal means of enforcing
fulfilment, they gradually introduced a patriarchal jurisdic-
tion similar to that which they exercised over their slaves,
with fines and corporal punishment as means of coercion.
From this they ere long proceeded a step further, and began
to sell their peasants without the land on which they were
settled. At first this was merely a flagrant abuse unsanc-
tioned by law, for the peasant had never been declared the

* The above account of the origin of serfage in Russia is founded on n
careful examination of the evidence which we possess on the subject, but I
must not conceal the fact that some of the statements are founded on inference
rather than on direct, unequivocal documentary evidence. The whole ques-
tion is one of great difhculty, and will in all probability not be satisfactorily
solved imtil a large number of the old local Land Registers {Pistsoviya
Knigi) have been published and carefully studied.

THE SALE OF SERFS 469

private property of the landed proprietor ; but the Govern-
ment tacitly sanctioned the practice, and even exacted dues
on such sales, as on the sale of slaves. Finally the right
to sell peasants without land was formally recognised by
various Imperial ukazes.*

The old Communal organisation still existed on the
estates of the proprietors, and had never been legally de-
prived of its authority, but it was now powerless to protect
the members. The proprietor could easily overcome any
active resistance by selling or converting into domestic
servants the peasants who dared to oppose his will.

The peasantry had thus sunk to the condition of serfs,
practically deprived of legal protection and subject to the
arbitrary will of the proprietors ; but they were still in some
respects legally and actually distinguished from the slaves
on the one hand and the "free wandering people " on the
other. These distinctions were obliterated by Peter the
Great and his immediate successors.

To effect his great civil and military reforms, Peter
required an annual revenue such as his predecessors had
never dreamed of, and he was consequently always on the
look-out for some new^ object of taxation. When looking
about for this purpose, his eye naturally fell on the slaves,
the domestic servants, and the free agricultural labourers.
None of these classes paid taxes — a fact which stood in
flagrant contradiction to his fundamental principle of
polity, that every subject should in some way serve the
State. He caused, therefore, a national census to be taken,
in which all the various classes of the rural population — •
slaves, domestic servants, agricultural labourers, peasants —
should be inscribed in one category; and he imposed equally
on all the members of this category a poll-tax, in lieu of the
former land-tax, which had lain exclusively on the peasants.
To facilitate the collection of this tax the proprietors were
made responsible for their serfs; and the "free wandering
people " who did not wish to enter the army were ordered,
under pain of being sent to the gallevs, to inscribe themselves
as members of a Commune or as serfs to some proprietor.

* For instance, the ukazes of October 13th, 1675, and June 25th, 1682. See
BSldev, pp. 203-209.

470 RUSSIA

These measures had a considerable influence, if not on
the actual position of the peasantry, at least on the legal
conceptions regarding them. By making the proprietor pay
the poll-tax for his serfs, as if they were slaves or cattle, the
law seemed to sanction the idea that they were part of his
goods and chattels. Besides this, it introduced the entirely
new principle that any member of the rural population not
legally attached to the land or to a proprietor should be
regarded as a vagrant, and treated accordingly. Thus the
principle that every subject should in some way serve the
State had found its complete realisation. There was no
longer any room in Russia for free men.

The change in the position of the peasantry, together
with the hardships and oppression by which it was accom-
panied, naturally increased fugitivism and vagrancy.
Thousands of serfs ran away from their masters, and fled
to the Steppe or sought enrolment in the army. To prevent
this the Government considered it necessary to take severe
and energetic measures. The serfs were forbidden to enlist
without the permission of their masters, and those who per-
sisted in presenting themselves for enrolment were to be
beaten "cruelly" (zhestoko) with the knout, and sent to the
mines.* The proprietors, on the other hand, received the
right to transport without trial their unruly serfs to Siberia,
and even to send them to the mines for life.f

If these stringent measures had any effect it was not of
long duration, for there soon appeared among the serfs a
still stronger spirit of discontent and insubordination, which
threatened to produce a general agrarian rising, and actually
did create a movement resembling in many respects the
Jacquerie in France and the Peasant War in Germany. A
glance at the causes of this movement will help us to under-
stand the real nature of serfage in Russia.

Up to this point serfage had, in spite of its flagrant
abuses, a certain theoretical justification. It was, as we have
seen, merely a part of a general political system in which
obligatory service was imposed on all classes of the popula-
tion. The serfs served the nobles in order that the nobles

• Ukaz of June 2nd, 1742.

t See ukazes of January 17th, 1765, and of January 28th, 1766.

SERF INSURRECTIONS 471

might serve the Tsar. In 1762 this theory was entirely over-
turned by a manifesto of Peter III. aboHshing the obHgatory
service of the Noblesse. According to strict justice this act
ought to have been followed by the liberation of the serfs,
for if the nobles were no longer obliged to serve the State
they had no just claim to the service of the peasants. The
Government had so completely forgotten the original mean-
ing of serfage that it never thought of carrying out the
measure to its logical consequences, but the peasantry held
tenaciously to the ancient conceptions, and looked im-
patiently for a second manifesto liberating them from the
power of the proprietors. Reports were spread that such
a manifesto really existed, and was being concealed by the
nobles. A spirit of insubordination accordingly appeared
among the rural population, and local insurrections broke
out in several parts of the Empire.

At this critical moment Peter III. was dethroned and
assassinated by a Court conspiracy. The peasants, who of
course knew nothing of the real motives of the conspirators,
supposed that the Tsar had been assassinated by those who
wished to preserve serfage, and believed him to be a martyr
in the cause of Emancipation. At the news of the catastrophe
their hopes of Emancipation fell, but soon they were revived
by new rumours. The Tsar, it was said, had escaped from
the conspirators and was in hiding. Soon he would appear
among his faithful peasants, and with their aid would regain
his throne and punish the wicked oppressors. Anxiouslv he
was awaited, and at last the glad tidings came that he had
appeared in the Don country, that thousands of Cossacks
had joined his standard, that he was everywhere putting the
proprietors to death without mercy, and that he would soon
arrive in the ancient capital !

Peter III. was in reality in his grave, but there was a
terrible element of truth in these reports. A pretender, a
Cossack called Pugatch^v, had really appeared on the Don,
and had assumed the role which the peasants expected the
late Tsar to play. Advancing through the country of the
Lower Volga, he took several places of importance, put to
death all the proprietors he could find, defeated on more than
one occasion the troops sent against him, and threatened to

472 RUSSIA

advance into the heart of the Empire. It seemed as if the
old troublous times were about to be renewed — as if the
country was once more to be pillaged by those wild Cossacks
of the Southern Steppe. But the pretender showed himself
incapable of playing the part he had assumed. His inhuman
cruelty estranged many who would otherwise have followed
him, and he was too deficient in decision and energy to
take advantage of favourable circumstances. If it be true
that he conceived the idea of creating a peasant empire
{muahitskoe tsdrstvo), he was not the man to realise such a
scheme. After a series of mistakes and defeats he was taken
prisoner, and the insurrection was quelled.*

Meanwhile Peter III. had been succeeded by his consort,
Catherine II. As she had no legal right to the throne, and
was by birth a foreigner, she could not gain the affections
of the common people, and was obliged to court the favour
of the Noblesse. In such a difficult position she could not
venture to apply her humane principles to the question of
serfage. Even during the first years of her reign, when she
had no reason to fear agrarian disturbances, she increased
rather than diminished the power of the proprietors over
their serfs, and the Pugatchev affair confirmed her in this
line of policy. During her reign serfage may be said to have
reached its climax. The serfs were regarded by the law as
part of the master's immovable propertyf — as part of the
working capital of the estate — and as such they were bought,
sold, and given as presents I in hundreds and thousands,
sometimes with the land, and sometimes without it, some-
times in families, and sometimes individually. The only
legal restriction was that they should not be offered for sale

* Whilst living among the Bashkirs of the province of Samdra in 1S72,
I found some interesting traditions regarding this pretender. Though nearly
a century had elapsed since his death (1775), his name, his personal appear-
ance, and his exploits were well known even to the younger generation. My
informants firmly believed that he was not an impostor, but the genuine
Tsar, dethroned by his ambitious consort, and that he never was taken
prisoner, but " went away into foreign lands." When I asked whether he
was still alive, and whether he might not one day return, they replied that
they did not know.

t See Ukaz of October 7th, 1792.

I As an example of making presents of serfs, the following may be cited :
Count Panin presented some of his subordinates for an Imperial recompense,
and on receiving a refusal, made them a present of 4,000 serfs from his own
estates. — B^ldev, p. 320.

THE REACTION 473

at the time of the conscription, and that they should at no
time be sold publicly by auction, because such a custom was
considered as "unbecoming in a European State." In all
other respects the serfs might be treated as private property ;
and this view is to be found not only in the legislation, but
also in the popular conceptions. It became customary — a
custom that continued down to the year 1861 — to compute a
noble's fortune, not by his yearly revenue or the extent of
his estate, but by the number of his serfs. Instead of saying
that a man had so many hundreds or thousands a year, or
so many acres, it was commonly said that he had so many
hundreds or thousands of "souls." And over these "souls"
he exercised the most unlimited authority. The serfs had no
legal means of self-defence. The Government feared that
the granting to them of judicial or administrative protection
would inevitably awaken in them a spirit of insubordination,
and hence it was ordered that those who presented complaints
should be punished with the knout and sent to the mines.*
It was only in extreme cases, when some instance of atrocious
cruelty happened to reach the ears of the Sovereign, that the
authorities interfered with the proprietor's jurisdiction, and
these cases had not the slightest influence on the proprietors
in general. f

The last years of the eighteenth century may be regarded
as the turning point in the history of serfage. Up till that
time the power of the proprietors had steadily increased,
and the area of serfage had rapidly expanded. Under the
Emperor Paul (1796-1801) we find the first decided symptoms
of a reaction. He regarded the proprietors as his most
efficient officers of police, but he desired to limit their
authority, and for this purpose issued an ukaz to the effect
that the serfs should not be forced to work for their masters

* See the ukazes of August 22nd, 1767, and March 30th, 1781.

t Perhaps the most horrible case on record is that of a certain lady called
Saltyk6v, who was brought to justice in 1768. According to the ukaz regard-
ing her crimes, she had killed by inhuman tortures in the course of ten or
eleven years about a hundred of her serfs, chiefly of the female sex, and
among them several young girls of eleven and twelve years of age. Accord-
ing to popular belief her cruelty proceeded from cannibal propensities, but
this was not confirmed by the judicial investigation. Details in the Ftisski
Arkhiv, 1865, pp. 644-652. The atrocities practised on the estate of Count
Araktch^yev, the favourite of Ale.xander I., at the commencement of last
century, have been frequently described, and are scarcely less revolting.

474 RUSSIA

more than three days in the week. With the accession of
Alexander I., in 1801, commenced a long series of abortive
projects for a general emancipation, and endless attempts
to correct the more glaring abuses ; and during the reign of
Nicholas no fewer than six committees were formed at different
times to consider the question. But the practical result of
these efforts was extremely small. The custom of giving
grants of land with peasants was abolished ; certain slight
restrictions were placed on the authority of the proprietors ;
a number of the worst specimens of the class were removed
from the administration of their estates ; a few who were
convicted of atrocious cruelty were exiled to Siberia;* and
some thousands of serfs were actually emancipated ; but no
decisive radical measures were attempted, and the serfs did
not receive even the right of making formal complaints.
Serfage had, in fact, come to be regarded as a vital part of
the State organisation, and the only sure basis for autocracy.
It was therefore treated tenderly, and the rights and protec-
tion accorded by various ukazes were almost entirely illusory.
If we compare the development of serfage in Russia and
in Western Europe, we find very many points in common,
but in Russia the movement had certain peculiarities. One
of the most important of these was caused by the rapid
development of the Autocratic Power. In feudal Europe,
where there was no strong central authority to control the
Noblesse, the free rural Communes entirely, or almost
entirely, disappeared. They were either appropriated by
the nobles or voluntarily submitted to powerful landed pro-
prietors or to monasteries, and in this way the whole of
the reclaimed land, with a few rare exceptions, became the
property of the nobles or of the Church. In Russia we find
the same movement, but it was arrested by the Imperial
power before all the land had been appropriated. The nobles
could reduce to serfage the peasants settled on their estates,
but they could not take possession of the free Communes,

* Speranski, for instance, when Governor of the province of Penza, brought
to justice, among others, a proprietor who had caused one of his serfs to be
flogged to death, and a lady who had murdered a serf boy by prici<ing him
with a penknife because he had neglected to take proper care of a tame
rabbit committed to his charge ! — Korff, " Zhizn Sperdnskago," II., p. 127,
note.

STATE PEASANTS 475

because such an appropriation would have infringed the
rights and diminished the revenues of the Tsar. Down to
the commencement of the last century, it is true, large grants
of land with serfs were made to favoured individuals among
the Noblesse, and in the reign of Paul (1796-1801) a con-
siderable number of estates were affected to the use of the
Imperial family under the name of appanages {Udyelniya
imeniya) ; but on the other hand, the extensive Church lands,
when secularised by Catherine II., were not distributed
among the nobles, as in many other countries, but were
transformed into State Domains. Thus, at the date of the
Emancipation (1861), by far the greater part of the territory
belonged to the State, and one-half of the rural population
were so-called State Peasants {Gosuddrstvenniye krestyanye).

Regarding the condition of these State Peasants, or
Peasants of the Domains, as they are sometimes called, I
may say briefly that they were, in a certain sense, serfs, being
attached to the soil like the others ; but their condition was,
as a rule, somewhat better than the serfs in the narrower
acceptation of the term. They had to suffer much from the
tyranny and extortion of the special administration under
which they lived, but they had more land and more liberty
than was commonly enjoyed on the estates of resident pro-
prietors, and their position was much less precarious. It is
often asserted that the officials of the Domains were worse
than the serf-owners, because they had not the same per-
sonal interest in the prosperity of the peasantry; but this
h. priori reasoning does not stand the test of experience.

It is not a little interesting to observe the numerical
proportion and geographical distribution of these two rural
classes. In European Russia, as a whole, about three-
eighths of the population were composed of serfs belonging
to the nobles ;* but if we take the provinces separately we

•The exact numbers, according to official data, were —

Entire Population ... ... ... ... ... ... 60,909,309

Peasantry of all Classes ... 49,486,665

Of these latter there were —

State Peasants ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 23,138,191

Peasants on the Lands of Proprietors ... ... ... 23,022,390

Peasants of the Appanages and other Departments ... 3,326,084

49.486,665

476 RUSSIA

find great variations from this average. In five provinces
the serfs were less than 3 per cent., whilst in others they
formed more than 70 per cent, of the population ! This is not
an accidental phenomenon. In the geographical distribu-
tion of serfage we can see reflected the origin and history
of the institution.

If we were to construct a map showing the geographical
distribution of the serf population, we should at once per-
ceive that serfage radiated from Moscow. Starting from
that city as a centre and travelling in any direction towards
the confines of the Empire, we find that, after making allow-
ance for a few disturbing local influences, the proportion of
serfs regularly declines in the successive provinces traversed.
In the region representing the old Muscovite Tsardom they
form considerably more than half of the rural population.
Immediately to the south and east of this, in the territory
that was gradually annexed during the seventeenth century
and first half of the eighteenth, the proportion varies from
25 to 50 per cent., and in the more recently annexed provinces
it steadily decreases till it almost reaches zero.

We may perceive, too, that the percentage of serfs de-
creases towards the north much more rapidly than towards
the east and south. This points to the essentially agricul-
tural nature of serfage in its infancy. In the south and east
there was abundance of rich "black earth" celebrated for
its fertility, and the nobles in quest of estates naturally
preferred this region to the inhospitable north, with its
poor soil and severe climate.

A more careful examination of the supposed map* would
bring out other interesting facts. Let me notice one by way
of illustration. Had serfage been the result of conquest we
should have found the Slavonic race settled on the State
Domains, and the Finnish and Tartar tribes supplying the
serfs of the nobles. In reality we find quite the reverse; the
Finns and Tartars were nearly all State Peasants, and
the serfs of the proprietors were nearly all of Slavonic race.
This is to be accounted for by the fact that the Finnish and

* Such a map was actually constructed by Troinitski (" Krepostn6e Nase-
l(5niye v Rossii," St. Pelersburg, 1861), but it is not nearly so graphic as it
might have been.

SERF DUES 477

Tartar tribes inhabit chiefly the outlying regions, in which
serfage never attained such dimensions as in the centre of the
Empire.

The dues paid by the serfs were of three kinds : labour,
money, and farm produce. The last-named is so unimportant
that it may be dismissed in a few words. It consisted chiefly
of eggs, chickens, lambs, mushrooms, wild berries, and
linen cloth. The amount of these various products
depended entirely on the will of the master. The other
two kinds of dues, as more important, we must examine
more closely.

When a proprietor had abundance of fertile land and
wished to farm on his own account, he commonly demanded
from his serfs as much labour as possible. Under such a
master the serfs were probably free from money dues, and
fulfilled their obligations to him by labouring in his fields
in summer and transporting his grain to market in winter.
When, on the contrary, a landowner had more serf labour
at his disposal than he required for the cultivation of his
fields, he put the superfluous serfs "on ohrok" — that is to
say, he allowed them to go and work where they pleased on
condition of paying him a fixed yearly sum. Sometimes the
proprietor did not farm at all on his own account, in which
case he put all the serfs "on obrok," and generally gave to
the Commune in usufruct the whole of the arable land
and pasturage. In this way the Mir played the part of a
tenant.

We have here the basis for a simple and important
classification of estates in the time of serfage : (i) Estates
on which the dues were exclusively in labour; (2) estates
on which the dues were partly in labour and partly in
money ; and (3) estates on which the dues were exclusively
in money.

In the manner of exacting the labour dues there was
considerable variety. According to the famous manifesto of
Paul I., the peasant could not be compelled to w^ork more
than three days in the week; but this law was by no means
universally observed, and those who did observe it had
various methods of applying it. A few took it literally, and
laid down a rule that the serfs should work for them three

478 RUSSIA

definite days in the week — for example, every Monday,
Tuesday, and Wednesday — but this was an extremely in-
convenient method, for it prevented the field labour from
being carried on regularly. A much more rational system
was that according to which one-half of the serfs worked
the first three days of the week, and the other half the
remaining three. In this way there was, without any con-
travention of the law, a regular and constant supply of labour.
It seems, however, that the great majority of the proprietors
followed no strict method, and paid no attention whatever to
Paul's manifesto, which gave to the peasant no legal means
of making formal complaints. They simply summoned
daily as many labourers as they required. The evil conse-
quences of this for the peasants' crops were in part counter-
acted by making the peasants sow their own grain a little
later than that of the proprietor, so that the master's harvest-
w'ork was finished, or nearly finished, before their grain was
ripe. This combination did not, however, always succeed,
and in cases where there was a conflict of interests, the serf
was, of course, the losing party. All that remained for him
to do in such cases was to work a little in his own fields
before six o'clock in the morning and after nine o'clock at
night, and in order to render this possible he economised
his strength, and worked as little as possible in his master's
fields during the day.

It has frequently been remarked, and with much truth —
though the indiscriminate application of the principle has
often led to unjustifiable legislative inactivity — that the
practical result of institutions depends less on the intrinsic
abstract nature of the institutions themselves than on the
character of those who work them. So it was with serfage.
When a proprietor habitually acted towards his serfs in an
enlightened, rational, humane way, they had little reason to
complain of their position, and their life was much easier
than that of many men who live in a state of complete
individual freedom and unlimited, unrestricted competition.
However paradoxical the statement may seem to those who
are in the habit of regarding all forms of slavery from the
sentimental point of view, it is unquestionable that the con-
dition of serfs under such a proprietor as I have supposed was

POWER OF OPPRESSORS 479

more enviable than that of the majority of English agricul-
tural labourers. Each family had a house of its own, with
a cabbage garden, one or more horses, one or two cows,
several sheep, poultry, agricultural implements, a share of
the Communal land, and everything else necessary for carry-
ing on its small farming operations; and in return for this it
had to supply the proprietor with an amount of labour which
was by no means oppressive. If, for instance, a serf had three
adult sons — and the households, as I have said, were at that
time generally numerous — two of them might work for the
proprietor, whilst the father himself and the remaining son
could attend exclusively to the family affairs. By the events
which used to be called "the visitations of God" he had no
fear of being permanently ruined. If his house were burnt,
or his cattle died from the plague, or a series of "bad years "
left him without seed for his fields, he could always count
upon temporary assistance from his master. He was pro-
tected, too, against all oppression and exactions on the part
of the officials : for the police, when there was any cause for
its interference applied to the proprietor, who was to a
certain extent responsible for his serfs. Thus the serf might
live a tranquil, contented life, and die at a ripe old age,
without ever having been conscious that serfage was a
grievous burden.

If all the serfs had lived in this way w'e might, perhaps,
regret that the emancipation was ever undertaken. In reality
there was, as the French say, le revers de la viedaille, and
serfage generally appeared under a form very different from
that which I have just depicted. The proprietors were,
unfortunately, not all of the enlightened, humane type.
Amongst them were many who demanded from their serfs
an inordinate amount of labour, and treated them in a very
inhumane fashion.

These oppressors of their serfs may be divided into four
categories. First, there were the proprietors who managed
their own estates, and oppressed simply for the purpose of
increasing their revenues. Secondly, there w^ere a number
of retired officers, who wished to establish a certain order and
discipline on their estates, and who employed for this pur-
pose the barbarous measures which were at that time used

48o RUSSIA

in the army, believing that merciless corporal punishment
was the only means of curing laziness, disorderliness and
other vices. Thirdly, there were the absentees who lived
beyond their means, and demanded from their steward, under
pain of giving him or his son as a recruit, a much greater
yearly sum than the estate could be reasonably expected to
yield. Lastly, in the latter years of serfage, there were a
number of men who bought estates as a mercantile specula-
tion, and made as much money out of them as they could
in the shortest possible space of time.

Of all hard masters, the last-named were the most terrible.
Utterly indifferent to the welfare of the serfs and the ultimate
fate of the property, they cut down the timber, sold the
cattle, exacted heavy money dues under threats of giving
the serfs or their children as recruits, presented to the
military authorities a number of conscripts greater than was
required by law — selling the conscription receipts (saic/ieiwiya
kvitdntsii) to the merchants and burghers who were liable
to the conscription but did not wish to serve — compelled some
of the richer serfs to buy their liberty at an enormous price,
and, in a word, used every means, legal and illegal, for
extracting money. By this system of management they
ruined the estate completely in the course of a few years ;
but by that time they had realised probably the whole sum
paid, with a very fair profit from the operation ; and this
profit could be considerably augmented by selling a number
of the peasant families for transportation to another estate
(na svos), or by mortgaging the property in the Opekunski
Sovet — a Government institution which lent money on
landed property without examining carefully the nature of
the security.

As to the means which the proprietors possessed of
oppressing their peasants, we must distinguish between the
legal and the actual. The legal were almost as complete
as anyone could desire. "The proprietor," it is said in the
Laws (Vol. IX., § 1045, ed. an. 1857), "may impose on his
serfs every kind of labour, may take from them money dues
(obrok) and demand from them personal service, with this
one restriction, that they should not be thereby ruined, and
that the number of days fixed by law should be left to them

SERFS' MEANS OF DEFENCE 481

for their own work." * Besides this, he had the right to
transform peasants into domestic servants, and might, in-
stead of employing them in his own service, hire them out
to others who had the rights and privileges of Noblesse
(§ § 1047-48). For all offences committed against himself or
against anyone under his jurisdiction lie could subject the
guilty ones to corporal punishment not exceeding forty
lashes with the birch or lifLeen blows with the stick (§ 1052);
and if he considered any of his serfs as incorrigible he
could have them drafted into the army or transported
to Siberia, as he might desire (§ § 1053-55). In cases of
insubordination, where the ordinary domestic means of
discipline did not suffice, he could call in the police and
the military to support his authority.

Such were the legal means by which the proprietor might
oppress his peasants, and it will be readily understood that
they were very considerable and very elastic. By law he had
the power to impose any dues in labour or money which he
might think fit, and in all cases the serfs were ordered to be
docile and obedient (§ 1027). Corporal punishment, though
restricted by law, he could in reality apply to any extent.
Certainly none of the serfs, and very few of the proprietors,
were aware that the law placed any restriction on this right.
All the proprietors were in the habit of using corporal punish-
ment as they thought proper, and unless a proprietor became
notorious for inhuman cruelty, the authorities never thought
of interfering. But in the eyes of the peasants, corporal
punishment was not the worst. What they feared infinitely
more than the birch or the stick was the proprietor's power
of giving them or their sons as recruits. The law assumed
that this extreme means would be employed only against
those serfs who showed themselves incorrigibly vicious or
insubordinate; but the authorities accepted those presented
without making any investigations, and consequently the
proprietor might use this power as an effective means of
extortion.

Against these means of extortion and oppression the serfs

* I give here the references to the Code, because Russians commonly
believe and assert that the hiring out of serfs, the infliction of corporal
punishment, and similar practices were merely abuses unauthorised by law.

Q

482 RUSSIA

had no legal protection. The law provided them with no
means of resisting any injustice to which they might be
subjected, or of bringing to punishment the master who
oppressed and ruined them. The Government, notwith-
standing its sincere desire to protect them from inordinate
burdens and cruel treatment, rarely interfered between the
master and his serfs, being afraid of thereby undermining
the authority of the proprietors, and awakening among the
peasantry a spirit of insubordination. The serfs were left,
therefore, to their own resources, and had to defend them-
selves as they best could. The simplest way was open
mutiny ; but this was rarely employed, for they knew by
experience that any attempt of the kind would be at once
put down by the military and mercilessly punished. Much
more favourite and efficient methods were passive resistance,
flight, and fire-raising or murder.

We might naturally suppose that an unscrupulous
proprietor, armed with the enormous legal and actual power
which I have just described, could very easily extort from
his peasants anything he desired. In reality, however, the
process of extortion, when it exceeded a certain measure,
was a very difficult operation. The Russian peasant has a
capacity of patient endurance that would do honour to a
martyr, and a power of continued, dogged, passive resist-
ance such as is possessed, I believe, by no other class of
men in Europe ; and these qualities formed a very powerful
barrier against the rapacity of unconscientious proprietors.
As soon as the serfs remarked in their master a tendency to
rapacity and extortion, they at once took measures to de-
fend themselves. Their first step was to sell secretly the
live stock they did not actually require, and all their
movable property, except the few articles necessary for
everyday use ; then the little capital so realised was carefully
hidden.

When this had been effected, the proprietor might
threaten and punish as he liked, but he rarely succeeded
in unearthing the treasure. Many a peasant, under such
circumstances, bore patiently the most cruel punishment,
and saw his sons taken away as recruits, and yet he per-
sisted in declaring that he had no money to ransom himself

FUGITIVES 483

and his children. A spectator in such a case would probably
have advised him to give up his little store of money, and
thereby liberate himself from persecution ; but the peasants
reasoned otherwise. They were convinced, and not without
reason, that the sacrifice of their little capital would merely
put off the evil day, and that the persecution would very
soon recommence. In this way they would have to suffer
as before, and have the additional mortification of feeling
that they had spent to no purpose the little that they
possessed. Their fatalistic belief in the "perhaps" {avos')
came here to their aid. Perhaps the proprietor might become
weary of his efforts when he saw that they led to no result,
or perhaps something might occur which would remove the
persecutor.

It always happened, however, that when a, proprietor
treated his serfs with extreme injustice and cruelty, some of
them lost patience, and sought refuge in flight. As the
estates lay perfectly open on all sides, and it was utterly
impossible to exercise a strict supervision, nothing was
easier than to run away, and the fugitive might be a hundred
miles off before his absence was noticed. But the oppressed
serf was reluctant to adopt such an extreme measure. He
had almost always a wife and family, and he could not
possibly take them with him ; flight, therefore, was expatria-
tion for life in its most terrible form. Besides this, the life
of a fugitive was by no means enviable. He was liable at
any moment to fall into the hands of the police, and to be
put in prison or sent back to his master. So little charm,
indeed, did this life present that not infrequently after a
few months or a few years the fugitive returned of his own
accord to his former domicile.

Regarding fugitives or passportless wanderers in general,
I may here remark parenthetically that there were two kinds.
In the first place, there was the young, able-bodied peasant,
who fled from the oppression of his master or from the con-
scription. Such a fugitive almost always sought out for
himself a new domicile— generally in the southern provinces,
where there was a great scarcity of labourers, and where
many proprietors habitually welcomed all peasants who
presented themselves, without making any inquiries as to

484 RUSSIA

passports. In the second place, there were those who chose
fugitivism as a permanent mode of life. These were, for
the most part, men or women of a certain age — widowers
or widows^ — ^who had no close family ties, and who were too
infirm or too lazy to work. The majority of these assumed
the character of pilgrims. As such they could always find
enough to eat, and could generally even collect a few roubles
with which to grease the palm of any zealous police-officer
who might arrest them.

For a life of this kind Russia presented peculiar facilities.
There was abundance of monasteries, where all comers could
live for three days without questions being asked, and where
those who were willing to do a little work for the patron saint
might live for a much longer period. Then there were the
towns, where the rich merchants considered almsgiving as
very profitable for salvation. And, lastly, there were the
villages, where a professing pilgrim was sure to be hospit-
ably received and entertained so long as he refrained from
stealing and other acts too grossly inconsistent with his
assumed character. For those who contented themselves
with simple fare, and did not seek to avoid the usual
privations of a wanderer's life, these ordinary means of
subsistence were amply sufficient. Those who were more
ambitious and more cunning often employed their talents
with great success in the world of the Old Ritualists and
Sectarians.

The last and most desperate means of defence which the
serfs possessed were fire-raising and murder. With regard
to the amount of fire-raising there are no trustworthy
statistics. With regard to the number of agrarian murders
I once obtained some interesting statistical data, but unfor-
tunately lost them. I may say, however, that these cases
were not very numerous. This is to be explained in part by
the patient, long-suffering character of the peasantry, and
in part by the fact that the great majority of the proprietors
were by no means such inhuman taskmasters as is sometimes
supposed. When a case did occur, the Administration
always made a strict investigation — punishing the guilty
with exemplary severity, and taking no account of the provo-
cation to which they had been subjected. The peasantry, on

DOMESTIC SERFS 485

the contrary — at least, when the act was not the result of
mere personal vengeance — secretly sympathised with "the
unfortunates," and long cherished their memory as that of
men who had suffered for the Mir.

In speaking of the serfs I have hitherto confined my
attention to the members of the Mir, or rural Commune —
that is to say, the peasants in the narrower sense of the term ;
but besides these there were the Dvorovuye, or domestic
servants, and of these I must add a word or two.

The Dvorovuye were domestic slaves rather than serfs
in the proper sense of the term. Let us, however, avoid
wounding unnecessarily Russian sensibilities by the use of
the ill-sounding word. We may call the class in question
"domestics" — remembering, of course, that they were not
quite domestic servants in the ordinary sense. They received
no wages, were not at liberty to change masters, possessed
almost no legal rights, and might be punished, hired out,
or sold by their ow^ners w^ithout any infraction of the
written law.

These "domestics" were very numerous — out of all pro-
portion to the work to be performed — and could consequently
lead a very lazy life; * but the peasant considered it a great
misfortune to be transferred to their ranks, for he thereby
lost his share of the Communal land and the little independ-
ence which he enjoyed. It very rarely happened, however,
that the proprietor took an able-bodied peasant as domestic.
The class generally kept up its numbers by the legitimate
and illegitimate method of natural increase; and involuntary
additions were occasionally made when orphans were left
without near relatives, and no other family wished to adopt
them. To this class belonged the lackeys, servant-girls,
cooks, coachmen, stable-boys, gardeners, and a large
number of nondescript old men and women who had no very
clearly defined functions. If the proprietor had a private
theatre or orchestra, it was from this class that the actors
and musicians were drawn. Those of them who were married
and had children occupied a position intermediate between
the ordinary domestic servant and the peasant. On the one

* Tliose proprietors who kept orchestras, large packs of hounds, &c., had
sometimes several hundred domestic serfs.

4»6 RUSSIA

hand, they received from the master a monthly allowance of
food and a yearly allowance of clothes, and they were
obliged to live in the immediate vicinity of the mansion-
house; but, on the other hand, they had each a separate
house or apartment, with a little cabbage-garden, and com-
monly a small plot of flax. The unmarried ones lived in
all respects like ordinary domestic servants.

The number of these domestic serfs being generally out
of all proportion to the amount of work they had to perform,
they were imbued with a hereditary spirit of indolence, and
they performed lazily and carelessly what they had to do.
On the other hand, they were often sincerely attached to
the family they served, and occasionally proved by acts
their fidelity and attachment. Here is an instance out of
many for which I can vouch. An old nurse, whose mistress
was dangerously ill, vowed that, in the event of the patient's
recovery, she would make a pilgrimage, first to Kief, the
Holy City on the Dnieper, and afterwards to Solovetsk,
a much revered monastery on an island in the White
Sea. The patient recovered, and the old woman, in
fulfilment of her vow, walked more than two thousand
miles !

This class of serfs might well be called domestic slaves,
but I must warn the reader that he ought not to use the
expression when speaking with Russians, because they are
extremely sensitive on the point. Serfage, they say, was
something quite different from slavery, and slavery never
existed in Russia.

The first part of this assertion is perfectly true, and the
second part perfectly false. In old times, as I have said
above, slavery was a recognised institution in Russia as in
other countries. One can hardly read a few pages of the
old chronicles without stumbling on references to slaves;
and I distinctly remember — though I cannot at this moment
give chapter and verse — that one of the old Russian princes
was so valiant and so successful in his wars that during his
reign a slave might be bought for a few coppers. As late
as the beginning of last century the domestic serfs were
sold very much as domestic slaves used to be sold in countries
where slavery was recognised as a legal institution. Here

MORAL INFLUENCE OF SERFAGE 487

is a specimen of the customary advertisements ; I take it
almost at random from the Moscow Gaaette of 1801 : —

'T'O BE SOLD : — Three coachmen, well trained and handsome; and
two girls, the one eighteen and the other fifteen years of age,
both of them good-looking, and well acquainted with various kinds of
handiwork. In the same house there are for sale two hairdressers;
the one, twenty-one years of age, can read, write, play on a musical
instrument, and act as huntsman ; the other can dress ladies' and
gentlemen's hair. In the same house are sold pianos and organs.

A little farther on in the same number of the paper, a
first-rate clerk, a carver, and a lackey are offered for sale,
and the reason assigned is a superabundance of the articles
in question {za iclishestvom). In some instances it seems
as if the serfs and the cattle were intentionally put in the
same category, as in the following announcement: "In this
house one can buy a coachman and a Dutch cow about to
calve." The style of these advertisements, and the frequent
recurrence of the same addresses show that there was at
this time in Moscow a regular class of slave-dealers. The
humane Alexander I. prohibited advertisements of this kind,
but he did not put down the custom which they represented,
and his successor, Nicholas I., took no effective measures
for its repression.

Of the whole number of serfs belonging to the proprietors,
the domestics formed, according to the census of 1857, "o
less than 6^ per cent. (6.79), and their numbers were
evidently increasing rapidly, for in the preceding census
they represented only 4.79 per cent, of the whole. This fact
seems all the more significant when we observe that during
this period the number of peasant serfs had diminished.

I must now bring this long chapter to an end. My aim
has been to represent serfage in its normal, ordinary forms
rather than in its occasional monstrous manifestations. Of
these latter I have a collection containing ample materials
for a whole series of sensation novels, but I refrain from
quoting them, because I do not believe that the criminal
annals of a country give a fair representation of its real con-
dition. On the other hand, I do not wish to whitewash
serfage or attenuate its evil consequences. No large body
of men could long wield such enormous uncontrolled power

488 RUSSIA

without abusing it,* and no great body of men could long
live under such power without suffering morally and materi-
ally from its pernicious influence. If serfage did not create
that moral apathy and intellectual lethargy which formed,
as it were, the atmosphere of Russian provincial life, it did
much at least to preserve it. In short, serfage was the chief
barrier to all material and moral progress, and in a time
of moral awakening such as that which I have described
in the preceding chapter, the question of Emancipation
naturally came at once to the front.

* The number of deposed proprietors — or rather the number of estates
placed under curators in consequence of the abuse of authority on the part
of their owners — amounted in 1859 to 215. So at least I found in an official
MS. document shown to me by the late Nicholas Miliitin.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE EMANCIPATION OF THE SERFS

It was a fundamental principle of Russian political organi-
sation that all initiative in public affairs should proceed from
the Autocratic Power. The widespread desire, therefore,
for the Emancipation of the serfs did not find free expression
so long as the Emperor kept silence regarding his intentions.
The educated classes watched anxiously for some sign, and
soon a sign was given to them. In March, 1856 — a few
days after the publication of the manifesto announcing the
conclusion of peace with the Western Powers — his Majesty
said to the Marshals of Noblesse in Moscow : " For the
removal of certain unfounded reports I consider it necessary
to declare to you that I have not at present the intention of
annihilating serfage; but certainly, as you yourselves know,
the existing manner of possessing serfs cannot remain un-
changed. It is better to abolish serfage from above than
to await the time when it will begin to abolish itself from
below. I request you, gentlemen, to consider how this can
be put into execution, and to submit my words to the
Noblesse for their consideration."

This announcement was made with a view to ascertaining
the sentiments of the landed proprietors and encouraging
them to express themselves in favour of Emancipation, but
it had not the desired effect. Abolitionist enthusiasm was
rare among the great nobles, and those who really wished
to see serfage abolished considered the Imperial utterance
too vague and oracular to justify them in taking the initia-
tive. As no further steps were taken for some time the
excitement caused by the incident soon subsided, and many
people assumed that the consideration of the problem had
been indefinitely postponed. "The Government," it was
said, "evidently intended to raise the question, but on
Q* 489

490 RUSSIA

perceiving the indifference or hostility of the landed pro-
prietors, it became frightened and drew back."

The Emperor was in reality disappointed. He had
expected that his "faithful Moscow Noblesse," of which he
was wont to say he was himself a member, would at once
respond to his call, and that the ancient capital would have
the honour of beginning the work. And if the example
were thus given by Moscow he had no doubt that it would
soon be followed by the other provinces. He now perceived
that the fundamental principles on which the Emancipation
should be effected must be laid down by the Government,
and for this purpose he created a secret committee composed
of several great officers of State.

This "Chief Committee for Peasant Affairs," as it was
afterwards called, devoted six months to studying the history
of the question. Emancipation schemes were by no means
a new phenomenon in Russia. Ever since the time of
Catherine H. the Government had thought of improving the
condition of the serfs, and on more than one occasion a
general Emancipation had been contemplated. In this way
the question had slowly ripened, and certain fundamental
principles had come to be pretty generally recognised. Of
these principles the most important was that the State should
not consent to any project which would uproot the peasant
from the soil and allow him to wander about at will ; for
such a measure would render the collection of the taxes
impossible, and in all probability produce the most frightful
agrarian disorders. And to this general principle there was
an important corollary : if severe restrictions were to be
placed on free migration, it would be necessary to provide
the peasantry with land in the immediate vicinity of the
villages; otherwise they must inevitably fall back under the
power of the proprietors, and a new and worse kind of
serfage would thus be created. But in order to give land
to the peasantry it would be necessary to take it from the
proprietors; and this expropriation seemed to many a most
unjustifiable infringement of the sacred rights of property.
It was this consideration that had restrained the Emperor
Nicholas from taking any decisive measures with regard to
serfage ; and it had now considerable weight with the

"THE RESCRIPT TO NAZFMOF ' 491

members of the committee, who were nearly all great land-
owners.

Notwithstanding the strenuous exertions of the Grand
Duke Constantine, who had been appointed a member for
the express purpose of accelerating the proceedings, the
committee did not show as much zeal and energy as was
desired, and orders were given to take some decided step.
At that moment a convenient opportunity presented itself.

In the Lithuanian Provinces, where the nobles were
Polish by origin and sympathies, the miserable condition
of the peasantry had induced the Government in the pre-
ceding reign to limit the arbitrary power of the serf-owners
by so-called Inventories, in which the mutual obligations of
masters and serfs were regulated and defined. These Inven-
tories had caused great dissatisfaction, and the proprietors
now proposed that they should be revised. Of this the
Government determined to take advantage. On the some-
what violent assumption that these proprietors w-ished to
emancipate their serfs, an Imperial rescript was prepared
approving of their supposed desire, and empowering them
to form committees for the preparation of definite projects.*
In the rescript itself the word emancipation was studiously
avoided, but there could be no doubt as to the implied
meaning, for it was expressly stated in the supplementary
considerations that "the abolition of serfage must be effected
not suddenly, but gradually." Four days later the Minister
of the Interior, in accordance with a secret order from the
Emperor, sent a circular to the Governors and Marshals of
Noblesse all over Russia Proper, informing them that the
nobles of the Lithuanian Provinces "had recognised the
necessity of liberating the peasants," and that "this noble
intention " had afforded peculiar satisfaction to his Majesty.
A copy of the rescript and the fundamental principles to be
observed accompanied the circular, "in case the nobles of
other provinces should express a similar desire."

This circular produced an immense sensation throughout
the country. No one could for a moment misunderstand

• This celebrated document is known as " The Rescript to Nazfmof. "
More than once in the course of conversation I did all in my power, witiiin
the limits of politeness and discretion, to extract . from General Nazfmof a
detailed account of this important episode, but my efforts were unsuccessful.

492 RUSSIA

the suggestion that the nobles of other provinces might
possibly express a desire to liberate their serfs. Such vague
words, when spoken by an autocrat, have a very definite
and unmistakable meaning, which prudent loyal subjects
have no difficulty in understanding. If any doubted, their
doubts were soon dispelled, for the Emperor, a few weeks
later, publicly expressed a hope that, with the help of God
and the co-operation of the nobles, the work would be
successfully accomplished.

The die was cast, and the Government looked anxiously
to see the result.

The periodical Press — which was at once the product and
fomenter of the liberal aspirations — hailed the raising of the
question with boundless enthusiasm. The Emancipation, it
was said, would certainly open a new and glorious epoch
in the national history. Serfage was described as an ulcer
that had long been poisoning the national blood; as an
enormous weight under which the whole nation groaned ;
as an insurmountable obstacle, preventing all material and
moral progress; as a cumbrous load, which rendered all
free, vigorous action impossible, and prevented Russia from
rising to the level of the Western nations. If Russia had
succeeded in stemming the flood of adverse fortune in spite
of this millstone round her neck, what might she not accom-
plish when free and untrammelled ? All sections of the
literary world had arguments to offer in support of the fore-
gone conclusion. The moralists declared that all the prevail-
ing vices were the product of serfage, and that moral progress
was impossible in an atmosphere of slavery; the lawyers
held that the arbitrary authority of the proprietors over the
peasants had no legal basis; the economists explained that
free labour was an indispensable condition of industrial and
commercial prosperity ; the philosophical historians showed
that the normal historical development of the country
demanded the immediate abolition of this superannuated
remnant of barbarism ; and the writers of the sentimental,
gushing type poured forth endless effusions about brotherly
love to the weak and the oppressed. In a word, the Press
was for the moment unanimous, and displayed a feverish
excitement which demanded a liberal use of superlatives.

POLITICAL ASPIRATIONS 493

This enthusiastic tone accorded perfectly with the feeHngs
of a large section of the nobles. Nearly the whole of the
Noblesse was more or less affected by the new-born enthu-
siasm for everything just, humanitarian, and liberal. The
aspirations found, of course, their most ardent representa-
tives among the educated youth ; but they were by no means
confined to the younger men, who had passed through the
universities and had always regarded serfage as a stain on
the national honour. Many a Saul was found among the
prophets. Many an old man, with grey hairs and grand-
children, who had all his life placidly enjoyed the fruits
of serf labour, was now heard to speak of serfage as an
antiquated institution which could not be reconciled with
modern humanitarian ideas; and not a few of all ages, who
had formerly never thought of reading books or newspapers,
now perused assiduously the periodical literature, and picked
up the liberal and humanitarian phrases with which it was
filled.

This Abolitionist fervour was considerably augmented by
certain political aspirations which did not appear in the
newspapers, but which were at that time very generally
entertained. In spite of the Press censure a large section of
the educated classes had become acquainted with the political
literature of France and Germany, and had imbibed there-
from an unbounded admiration for Constitutional govern-
ment. A Constitution, it was thought, would necessarily
remove all political evils and create something like a political
millennium. And it was not to be a Constitution of the
ordinary sort — the fruit of compromise between hostile
political parties — but an institution designed calmly accord-
ing to the latest results of political science, and so constructed
that all classes would voluntarily contribute to the general
welfare. The necessary prelude to this happy era of political
liberty was, of course, the abolition of serfage. When the
nobles had given up their power over their serfs they would
receive a Constitution as an indemnity and reward.

There were, however, many nobles of the old school who
remained impervious to all these new feeHngs and ideas. On
them the raising of the Emancipation question had a very
different effect. They had no source of revenue but their

494 RUSSIA

estates, and they could not conceive the possibiHty of work-
ing their estates without serf labour. If the peasant was
indolent and careless even under strict supervision, what
would he become when no longer under the authority of a
master ? If the profits from farming were already small,
what would they be when no one would work without wages ?
And this was not the worst, for it was quite evident from
the circular that the land question was to be raised, and
that a considerable portion of each estate would be trans-
ferred, at least for a time, to the emancipated peasants.

To the proprietors who looked at the question in this
way the prospect of Emancipation was certainly not at all
agreeable, but we must not imagine that they felt as English
landowners would feel if threatened by a similar danger.
In England an hereditary estate has for the family a value
far beyond what it would bring in the market. It is regarded
as one and indivisible, and any dismemberment of it would
be looked upon as a grave family misfortune. In Russia,
on the contrary, estates have nothing of this semi-sacred
character, and may be at any time dismembered without
outraging family feeling or traditional associations. Indeed,
it is not uncommon that when a proprietor dies, leaving
only one estate and several children, the property is broken
up into fractions and divided among the heirs. Even the
prospect of pecuniary sacrifice did not alarm the Russians
so much as it would alarm Englishmen. Men who keep no
accounts and take little thought for the morrow are much
less averse to making pecuniary sacrifices — whether for a
wise or a foolish purpose — than those who carefully arrange
their mode of life according to their income.

Still, after due allowance has been made for these
peculiarities, it must be admitted that the feeling of dis-
satisfaction and alarm was very widespread. Even Russians
do not like the prospect of losing a part of their land and
income. No protest, however, was entered, and no oppo-
sition was made. Those who were hostile to the measure
were ashamed to show themselves selfish and unpatriotic.
At the same time they knew very well that the Emperor, if
he wished, could effect the Emancipation in spite of them,
and that resistance on their part would draw down upon

THE GOVERNMENT'S SCHEME 495

them the Imperial displeasure, without affording any com-
pensating advantage. They knew, too, that there was a
danger from below, so that any useless show of opposition
would be like playing with matches in a powder-magazine.
The serfs would soon hear that the Tsar desired to set them
free, and they might, if they suspected that the proprietors
were trying to frustrate the Tsar's benevolent intentions, use
violent measures to get rid of the opposition. The idea of
agrarian massacres had alrejidy taken possession of many
timid minds. Besides this, all classes of the proprietors felt
that if the work was to be done, it should be done by the
Noblesse and not by the bureaucracy. If it were effected by
the nobles the interests of the landowners would be duly
considered, but if it were effected by the Administration
without their concurrence and co-operation, their interests
would be neglected, and there would inevitably be an
enormous amount of jobbery and corruption. In accordance
with this view the Noblesse corporations of the various
provinces successively requested permission to form com-
mittees for the consideration of the question, and during
the year 1858 a committee was opened in almost every
province in which serfage existed.

In this way the question was apparently handed over for
solution to the nobles, but in reality the Noblesse was called
upon merely to advise, and not to legislate. The Govern-
ment had not only laid down the fundamental principles of
the scheme; it continually supervised the work of construc-
tion, and it reserved to itself the right of modifying or
rejecting the projects proposed by the committees.

According to these fundamental principles the serfs
should be emancipated gradually, so that for some time they
would remain attached to the glebe and subject to the
authority of the proprietors. During this transition period
they should redeem by money payments or labour their
houses and gardens, and enjoy in usufruct a certain quantity
of land, sufficient to enable them to support themselves, and
to fulfil their obligations to the State as well as to the pro-
prietor. In return for this land they should pay a yearly
rent in money, produce, or labour, over and above the yearly
sum paid for the redemption of their houses and gardens.

496 RUSSIA

As to what should be done after the expiry of the transition
period, the Government seems to have had no clearly con-
ceived intentions. Probably it hoped that by that time the
proprietors and their emancipated serfs would have invented
some convenient modus vivendi, and that nothing but a little
legislative regulation would be necessary. But radical legis-
lation is like the letting-out of water. These fundamental
principles, adopted at first with a view to mere immediate
practical necessity, soon acquired a very different signific-
ance. To understand this we must return to the periodical
literature.

Until the serf question came to be discussed, the reform
aspirations were very vague, and consequently there was a
remarkable unanimity among their representatives. The
great majority of the educated classes were unanimously of
opinion that Russia should at once adopt from the West all
those liberal principles and institutions, the exclusion of
which had prevented the country from rising to the level
of the Western nations. But very soon symptoms of a
schism became apparent. Whilst literature in general was
still preaching the doctrine that Russia should adopt
everything that was "liberal," a few voices began to be
heard warning the unwary that much which bore the name
of liberal was in reality already antiquated and worthless
— that Russia ought not to follow blindly in the footsteps
of other nations, but ought rather to profit by their experi-
ence, and avoid the errors into which they had fallen.

The chief of these errors was, according to these new
teachers, the abnormal development of individualism — the
adoption of that principle of Jaissca faire which forms the
basis of what may be called the Orthodox School of Political
Economists. Individualism and unrestricted competition, it
was said, have now reached in the West an abnormal and
monstrous development. Supported by the laissez faire
principle, they have led — and must always lead — to the
oppression of the weak, the tyranny of capital, the im-
poverishment of the masses for the benefit of the few, and
the formation of a hungry, dangerous Proletariat ! This
has already been recognised by the most advanced thinkers
of France and Germanv. If the older countries cannot at

FEAR OF THE PROLETARIAT 497

once cure those evils, that is no reason for Russia to inoculate
herself with them. She is still at the commencement of her
career, and it would be folly for her to wander voluntarily
for ages in the Desert, when a direct route to the Promised
Land has been already discovered.

In order to convey some idea of the influence which this
teaching exercised, I must here recall, at the risk of repeating
myself, what I said in a former chapter. The Russians, as
I have there pointed out, have a peculiar way of treating
political and social questions. Having received their political
education from books, they naturally attribute to theoretical
considerations an importance which seems to us exaggerated.
When any important or trivial question arises, they at once
launch into a sea of philosophical principles, and pay less
attention to the little objects close at hand than to the big
ones that appear on the distant horizon of the future. And
when they set to work at any political reform they begin
ab ovo. As they have no traditional prejudices to fetter
them, and no traditional principles to lead them, they
naturally take for their guidance the latest conclusions of
political philosophy.

Bearing this in mind, let us see how it affected the Eman-
cipation question. The Proletariat — described as a dangerous
monster which was about to sw^allow up society in Western
Europe, and which might at any moment cross the frontier
unless kept out by vigorous measures — took possession of
the popular imagination, and aroused the fears of the reading
public. To many it seemed that the best means of prevent-
ing the formation of a Proletariat in Russia was the securing
of land for the emancipated serfs, and the careful preservation
of the rural Commune. "Now is the moment," it was said,
"for deciding the important question whether Russia is to
fall a prev, like the Western nations, to this terrible evil,
or whether she is to protect herself for ever against it. In
the decision of this question lies the future destiny of the
country. If the peasants be emancipated without land, or
if those Communal institutions, w'hich give to every man a
share of the soil and secure this inestimable boon for the
generations still unborn, be now abolished, a Proletariat
will be rapidly formed, and the peasantry will become a

498 RUSSIA

disorganised mass of homeless wanderers like the English
agricultural labourers. If, on the contrary, a fair share of
land be granted to them, and if the Commune be made pro-
prietor of the land ceded, the danger of a Proletariat is for
ever removed, and Russia will thereby set an example to
the civilised world ! Never has a nation had such an oppor-
tunity of making an enormous leap forward on the road of
progress, and never again will the opportunity occur. The
Western nations have discovered their error when it is too
late — when the peasantry have been already deprived of their
land, and the labouring classes of the towns have already
fallen a prey to the insatiable cupidity of the capitalists. In
vain their most eminent thinkers warn and exhort. Ordinary
remedies are no longer of any avail. But Russia may avoid
these dangers, if she but act wisely and prudently in this
matter. The peasants are still in actual, if not legal,
possession of the land, and there is as yet no Proletariat
in the towns. All that is necessary, therefore, is to
abolish the arbitrary authority of the proprietors without
expropriating the peasants, and without disturbing the exist-
ing Communal institutions, which form the best barrier
against pauperism."

These ideas were warmly espoused by many proprietors,
and exercised a very great influence on the deliberations of
the Provincial Committees. In these committees there were
generally two groups. The majorities, whilst making large
concessions to the claims of justice and expediency, en-
deavoured to defend, as far as possible, the interests of their
class; the minorities, though by no means indifferent to the
interests of the class to which they belonged, allowed the
more abstract theoretical considerations to be predominant.
At first the majorities considered the fundamental principles
laid down by the Government as much too favourable to the
peasantry, and were inclined to protest; but when they per-
ceived that public opinion, as represented by the Press, went
much farther than the Government, they clung to these
fundamental principles — which secured at least the fee simple
of the estate to the landlord — as their anchor of safety.
Between the two parties arose naturally a strong spirit of
hostility, and the Government, which wished to have the

PROVINCIAL COMMITTEES 499

support of the minorities, found it advisable that both should
present their projects for consideration.

As the Provincial Committees worked independently,
there was considerable diversity in the conclusions at which
they arrived. The task of codifying these conclusions, and
elaborating out of them a general scheme of Emancipation,
was entrusted to a special Imperial Commission, composed
partly of officials and partly of landed proprietors named by
the Emperor.* Those who believed that the question had
really been handed over to the Noblesse assumed that this
Commission would merely codify the materials presented by
the Provincial Committees, and that the Emancipation Law
would thereafter be elaborated by a National Assembly of
deputies elected by the nobles. In reality the Commission,
working in St, Petersburg under the direct guidance and
control of the Government, fulfilled a very different and
much more important function. Using the combined pro-
jects merely as a storehouse from which it could draw the
proposals it required, it formed a new project of its own,
which ultimately received, after undergoing modification in
detail, the Imperial assent. Instead of being a mere chan-
cellerie, as many expected, it became in a certain sense the
author of the Emancipation Law.

There w'ere, as we have seen, in nearly all the Provincial
Committees a majority and a minority, the former of which
strove to defend the interests of the proprietors, whilst the
latter paid more attention to theoretical considerations, and
endeavoured to secure for the peasantry a large amount of
land and Communal self-government. In the Commission
there were the same two parties, but their relative strength
was very different. Here the men of theory, instead of form-
ing a minoritv, were more numerous than their opponents,
and enjoved the support of the Government, which regulated
the proceedings. In its instructions we see how much the
question had ripened under the influence of the theoretical
considerations. There is no longer any trace of the idea
that the Emancipation should be gradual ; on the contrary,
it is expresslv declared that the immediate effect of the law

* Known as the Redaktsiunnaya Komissiya, or Elaboration Commission.
Strictly speaking there were two, but they are commonly spoken of as one.

500 RUSSIA

should be the complete abolition of the proprietor's authority.
There is even evidence of a clear intention of preventing
the proprietor as far as possible from exercising any influence
over his former serfs. The sharp distinction between the
land occupied by the village and the arable land to be ceded
in usufruct likewise disappears, and it is merely said that
efforts should be made to enable the peasants to become
proprietors of the land they required.

The aim of the Government had thus become clear and
well defined. The task to be performed was to transform
the serfs at once, and with the least possible disturbance
of the existing economic conditions, into a class of small
Communal proprietors — that is to say, a class of free peasants
possessing a house and a garden, and a share of the Com-
munal land. To effect this it was merely necessary to declare
the serf personally free, to draw a clear line of demarcation
between the Communal land and the rest of the estate, and
to determine the price or rent which should be paid for this
Communal property, inclusive of the land on which the
village was built.

The law was prepared in strict accordance with these
principles. As to the amount of land to be ceded, it was
decided that the existing arrangements, founded on experi-
ence, should, as a general rule, be preserved — in other words,
the land actually enjoyed by the peasants should be retained
by them ; and in order to prevent extreme cases of injustice,
a maximum and a minimum were fixed for each district. In
like manner, as to the dues, it was decided that the existing
arrangements should be taken as the basis of the calculation,
but that the sum should be modified according to the amount
of land ceded. At the same time facilities were to be given
for the transforming of the labour dues into yearly money
payments, and for enabling the peasants to redeem them,
with the assistance of the Government in the form of credit.

This idea of redemption created, at first, a feeling of
alarm among the proprietors. It was bad enough to be
obliged to cede a large part of the estates in usufruct, but
it seemed to be much worse to have to sell it. Redemption
appeared to be a species of wholesale confiscation. But very
soon it borame evident that the redeeming of the land was

PROVINCIAL DEPUTIES 501

profitable for both parties. Cession in perpetual usufruct
was felt to be in reality tantamount to alienation of the land,
whilst the immediate redemption would enable the pro-
prietors, who had generally little or no ready money, to pay
their debts, to clear their estates from mortgages, and to make
the outlays necessary for the transition to free labour. The
majority of the proprietors, therefore, said openly : "Let the
Government give us a suitable compensation in money for
the land that is taken away from us, so that we may be at
once freed from all further trouble and annoyance."

When it became known that the Commission was not
merely arranging and codifying the materials, but elaborat-
ing a law of its own and regularly submitting its decisions
for Imperial confirmation, a feeling of dissatisfaction
appeared all over the country. The nobles perceived that
the question was being taken out of their hands, and was
being solved by a small body composed of bureaucrats and
nominees of the Government. After having made a volun-
tary sacrifice of their rights, they were being unceremoniously
pushed aside ! They had still, however, the means of
correcting this. The Emperor had publicly promised that
before the project should become law, deputies from the
Provincial Committees should be summoned to St. Peters-
burg to make objections and propose amendments.

The Commission and the Government would have
willingly dispensed with all further advice from the nobles,
but it was necessary to redeem the Imperial promise.
Deputies were therefore summoned to the capital, but they
were not allowed to form, as they hoped, a public assembly
for the discussion of the question. All their efforts to hold
meetings were frustrated, and they were required merely to
answer in writing a list of printed questions regarding
matters of detail. The fundamental principles, they were
told, had already received the Imperial sanction, and were
consequently removed from discussion. Those who desired
to discuss details were invited individually to attend meetings
of the Commission, where they found one or two members
ready to engage with them in a little dialectical fencing.
This, of course, did not give much satisfaction. Indeed, the
ironical tone in which the fencing was too often conducted

502 , RUSSIA

served to increase the existing irritation. It was only too
evident that the Commission had triumphed, and some of
the members could justly boast that they had drowned the
deputies in ink and buried them under reams of paper.

Believing, or at least professing to believe, that the
Emperor was being deceived in this matter by the Adminis-
tration, several groups of deputies presented petitions to his
Majesty containing a respectful protest against the manner
in which they had been treated. But by this act they simply
laid themselves open to "the most unkindest cut of all."
Those who had signed the petitions received a formal
reprimand through the police !

This treatment of the deputies, and, above all, this
gratuitous insult, produced among the nobles a storm of
indignation. They felt that they had been entrapped ! The
Government had artfully induced them to form projects for
the emancipation of their serfs, and now, after having been
used as a cat's-paw in the work of their own spoliation, they
were being unceremoniously pushed aside as no longer
necessary ! Those who had indulged in the hope of gaining
political rights felt the blow most keenly. A first gentle and
respectful attempt at remonstrance had been answered by a
dictatorial reprimand through the police ! Instead of being
called to take an active part in home and foreign politics,
they were being treated as naughty schoolboys. In view
of this insult all differences of opinion were for the moment
forgotten, and all parties resolved to join in a vigorous
protest against the insolence and arbitrary conduct of the
bureaucracy.

A convenient opportunity of making this protest in a
legal way was offered by the triennial Provincial Assemblies
of the Noblesse about to be held in several provinces. So
at least it was thought, but here again the Noblesse was
checkmated by the Administration. Before the opening of
the Assemblies a circular was issued excluding the Emanci-
pation question from their deliberations. Some Assemblies
evaded this order, and succeeded in making a little demon-
stration by submitting to his Majesty that the time had
arrived for other reforms, such as the separation of the
administrative and judicial powers, and the creation of local

THE GREAT MANIFESTO 503

self-government, public judicial procedure, and trial by
jury.

All these reforms were voluntarily effected by the Emperor
a few years later, but the manner in which they were
suggested seemed to savour of insubordination, and was a
flagrant infraction of the principle that all initiative in public
affairs should proceed from the central Government. New
measures of repression were accordingly used. Some
Marshals of Noblesse were reprimanded and others deposed.
Of the conspicuous leaders, two were exiled to distant pro-
vinces and others placed under the supervision of the police.
Worst of all, the whole agitation strengthened the Commis-
sion by convincing the Emperor that the majority of the
nobles were hostile to his benevolent plans.*

When the Commission had finished its labours, its pro-
posals passed to the two higher instances— the Committee
for Peasant Affairs and the Council of State — and in both
of these the Emperor declared plainly that he could allow
no fundamental changes. From all the members he
demanded a complete forgetfulness of former differences and
a conscientious execution of his orders; "for you must
remember," he significantly added, "that in Russia laws
are made by the Autocratic Power." From an historical
review of the question he drew the conclusion that "the
Autocratic Power created serfage, and the Autocratic Power
ought to abolish it." On March 3rd (February 19th, old
style), 1861, the law was signed, and by that act more
than 20,000,000 serfs were liberated. f A Manifesto con-
taining the fundamental principles of the law was at once
sent all over the country, and an order was given that it
should be read in all the churches.

* This was a misinterpretation of the facts. Very many of those who
joined in the protest sincerely sympathised with the idea of Emancipation, and
were ready to be even more " liberal " than the Government.

t It is sometimes said that 40,000,000 serfs have been emancipated.
The statement is true, if we regard the State Peasants as serfs. They held,
as I have already explained, an intermediate position between serfage and
freedom. The peculiar administration under which they lived was partly
abolished by Imperial Orders of September 7th, 1S59, and October 23rd, 1S61.
In 1866 they were placed, as regards administration, on a level with the
emancipated serfs of the proprietors. As a general rule, they received rather
more land and had to pay somewhat lighter dues than the emancipated
serfs in the narrower sense of the term.

504 RUSSIA

The three fundamental principles laid down by the law
were : —

1. That the serfs should at once receive the civil rights
of the free rural classes, and that the authority of the pro-
prietor should be replaced by Communal self-government.

2. That the rural Communes should as far as possible
retain the land they actually held, and should in return pay
to the proprietor certain yearly dues in money or labour.

3. That the Government should by means of credit assist
the Communes to redeem these dues, or, in other words, to
purchase the lands ceded to them in usufruct.

With regard to the domestic serfs, it was enacted that
they should continue to serve their masters during two years,
and that thereafter they should be completely free, but they
should have no claim to a share of the land.

It might be reasonably supposed that the serfs received
with boundless gratitude and delight the Manifesto proclaim-
ing these principles. Here at last was the realisation of
their long-cherished hopes. Liberty was accorded to them ;
and not only liberty, but a goodly portion of the soil — about
half of all the arable land possessed by the proprietors.

In reality the Manifesto created among the peasantry a
feeling of disappointment rather than delight. To under-
stand this strange fact we must endeavour to place ourselves
at the peasant's point of view.

In the first place it must be remarked that all vague,
rhetorical phrases about free labour, human dignity, national
progress, and the like, which may readily produce among
educated men a certain amount of temporary enthusiasm,
fall on the ears of the Russian peasant like drops of rain
on a granite rock. The fashionable rhetoric of philosophical
liberalism is as incomprehensible to him as the flowery
circumlocutionary style of an Oriental scribe would be to a
keen City merchant. The idea of liberty in the abstract and
the mention of rights which lie beyond the sphere of his
ordinary everyday life awaken no enthusiasm in his breast.
And for mere names he has a profound indifference. What
matters it to him that he is officially called, not a "serf,"
but a "free village-inhabitant," if the change in official
terminology is not accompanied by some immediate material

DISAPPOINTMENTS OF THE SERFS 505

advantage? What he wants is a house to live in, food
to eat, and raiment wherewithal to be clothed, and to gain
these first necessaries of life with as little labour as
possible.

He looked at the question exclusively from two points of
view — that of historical right and that of material advantage
. — and from both of these the Emancipation Law seemed to
him very unsatisfactory.

On the subject of historical right the peasantry had their
own traditional conceptions, which were completely at
variance with the written law. According to the positive
legislation the Communal land formed part of the estate,
and consequently belonged to the proprietor; but according
to the conceptions of the peasantry it belonged to the Com-
mune, and the right of the proprietor consisted merely in
that personal authority over the serfs which had been con-
ferred on him by the Tsar. The peasants could not, of
course, put these conceptions into a strict legal form, but
they often expressed them in their own homely laconic way
by saying to their master, "Mui vashi no zemlya nasha " —
that is to say, "We are yours, but the land is ours." And
it must be admitted that this view, though legallv untenable,
had a certain historical justification.* In old times the nobles
had held their land by feudal tenure, and were liable to be
ejected as soon as they did not fulfil their obligations to
the State. These obligations had long since been abolished,
and the feudal tenure transformed into an unconditional
right of property, but the peasants clung to the old ideas
in a way that strikingly illustrates the vitality of deep-rooted
popular conceptions. In their minds the proprietors were
merely temporary occupants, who were allowed bv the Tsar
to exact labour and dues from the serfs. What, then, was
Emancipation? Certainly the abolition of all obligatorv
labour and money dues, and perhaps the complete ejectment
of the proprietors. On this latter point there was a difference
of opinion. All assumed, as a matter of course, that the
Communal land would remain the propertv of the Commtme,
but it was not so clear what woulfl be done with the rest
of the estate. Some thought that it would be retained by

• See precedingf chr»pter.

5o6 RUSSIA

the proprietor, but very many believed that all the land would
be given to the Communes. In this way the Emancipation
would be in accordance with historical right and with
the material advantage of the peasantry, for whose
exclusive benefit, it was assumed, the reform had been
undertaken.

Instead of this the peasants found that they were still to
pay dues, even for the Communal land which they regarded
as unquestionably their own ! So at least said the expounders
of the law. But the thing was incredible. Either the pro-
prietors must be concealing or misinterpreting the law, or
this was merely a preparatory measure, which would be
followed by the real Emancipation. Thus were awakened
among the peasantry a spirit of mistrust and suspicion and
a widespread belief that there would be a second Imperial
Manifesto, by which all the land would be divided and all
the dues abolished.

On the nobles the Manifesto made a very different
impression. The fact that they were to be entrusted with
the putting of the law into execution, and the flattering
allusions made to the spirit of generous self-sacrifice which
they had exhibited, kindled amongst them enthusiasm
enough to make them forget for a time their just grievances
and their hostility towards the bureaucracy. They found
that the conditions on which the Emancipation was effected
were by no means so ruinous as they had anticipated ; and
the Emperor's appeal to their generosity and patriotism
made many of them throw themselves with ardour into the
important task confided to them.

Unfortunately they could not at once begin the work.
The law had been so hurried through the last stages that
the preparations for putting it into execution were by no
means complete when the Manifesto was published. The
task of regulating the future relations between the pro-
prietors and the peasantry was entrusted to local proprietors
in each district, who were to be called Arbiters of the Peace
(Mirovuiye Posredniki) ; but three months elapsed before
these Arbiters could be appointed. During that time there
was no one to explain the law to the peasants and settle
the disputes between them and the proprietors; and the

ARBITERS OF THE PEACE 507

consequence of this was that many cases of insubordination
and disorder occurred. The muzhiiv naturally imagined that,
as soon as the Tsar said he was free, he was no longer
obliged to work for his old master — that all obligatory
labour ceased as soon as the Manifesto was read. In vain
the proprietor endeavoured to convince him that, in regard
to labour, the old relations must continue, as the law en-
joined, until a new arrangement had been made. To all
explanations and exhortations he turned a deaf ear, and to
the efforts of the rural police he too often opposed a dogged,
passive resistance. In many cases the simple appearance of
the higher authorities sufficed to restore order, for the
presence of one of the Tsar's servants convinced many that
the order to work for the present as formerly was not a mere
invention of the proprietors. But not unfrequently the birch
had to be applied. Indeed, I am inclined to believe, from
the numerous descriptions of this time which I received from
eye-witnesses, that rarely, if ever, had the serfs seen and
experienced so much flogging as during these first three
months after their liberation. Sometimes even the troops
had to be called out, and on three occasions they fired on
the peasants with ball cartridge. In the most serious case,
v;here a young peasant had set up for a prophet and declared
that the Emancipation Law was a forgery, fifty-one peasants
were killed and seventy-seven were more or less seriously
wounded.

In spite of these lamentable incidents, there was nothing
which even the most violent alarmist could dignify with the
name of an insurrection. Nowhere was there anything that
could be called organised resistance. Even in the case above
alluded to, the three thousand peasants on whom the troops
fired were entirely unarmed, made no attempt to resist,
and dispersed in the utmost haste as soon as they dis-
covered that thev were being shot down. Had the mili-
tarv authorities shown a little more judgment, tact and
patience, the historv of the Emancipation would not have
been stained even with those three cases of unnecessary
bloodshed.

This interregnum between the eras of serfage and liberty
was brought to an end by the appointment of the Arbiters of

508 RUSSIA

the Peace. Their first duty was to explain the law, and
to organise the new peasant self-government. The lowest
instance or primary organ of this self-government, the rural
Commune, already existed, and at once recovered much of
its ancient vitality as soon as the authority and interference
of the proprietors were removed. The second instance, the
Vdlost — a territorial administrative unit comprising several
contiguous Communes — had to be created, for nothing of the
kind had previously existed on the estates of the nobles. It
had existed, however, for nearly a quarter of a century among
the peasants of the Domains, and it was therefore necessary
merely to copy an existing model.

As soon as all the Volosts in his district had been thus
organised, the Arbiter had to undertake the much more
arduous task of regulating the agrarian relations between
the proprietors and the Communes — with the individual
peasants, be it remembered, the proprietors had no direct
relations whatever. It had been enacted by the law that
the future agrarian relations between the two parties should
be left, as far as possible, to voluntary contract ; and accord-
ingly each proprietor was invited to come to an agreement
with the Commune or Communes on his estate. On the
ground of this agreement a statute-charter {ustdvnaya
grdmota) was prepared, specifying the number of male serfs,
the quantity of land actually enjoyed by them, any proposed
changes in this amount, the dues to be levied, and other
details. If the Arbiter found that the conditions were in
accordance with the law and clearly understood by the
peasants, he confirmed the charter, and the arrangement was
complete. When the two parties could not come to an
agreement within a year, he prepared a charter according to
his own judgment, and presented it for confirmation to the
higher authorities.

The dissolution of partnership, if it be allowable to use
such a term, between the proprietor and his serfs was
sometimes very easy and sometimes verv difficult. On many
estates the charter did little more than legalise the existing
arrangements, but in many instances it was necessary to add
to, or subtract from, the amount of Communal land, and
sometimes it was even necessary to remove the village to

THE WORK OF SETTLEMENT 509

another part of the estate. In all cases there were, of course,
conflicting interests and complicated questions, so that the
Arbiter had always abundance of difticult work. Besides
this, he had to act as mediator in those differences which
naturally arose during the transition period, when the
authority of the proprietor had been abolished but the
separation of the two classes had not yet been effected. The
unlimited patriarchal authority which had been formerly
wielded by the proprietor or his steward now passed with
certain restrictions into the hands of the Arbiters, and these
peacemakers had to spend a great part of their time in
driving about from one estate to another to put an end to
alleged cases of insubordination — some of which, it must
be admitted, existed only in the imagination of the
proprietors.

At first the work of amicable settlement proceeded slowly.
The proprietors generally showed a conciliatory spirit, and
some of them generously proposed conditions much more
favourable to the peasants than the law demanded; but the
peasants were filled with vague suspicions, and feared to
commit themselves by "putting pen to paper." Even the
highly respected proprietors, who imagined that they
possessed the unbounded confidence of the peasantry, were
suspected like the others, and their generous offers were
regarded as well-baited traps. Often I have heard old men,
sometimes w-ith tears in their eyes, describe the distrust and
ingratitude of the muzhik at this time. Many peasants still
believed that the proprietors were hiding the real Emancipa-
tion Law, and imaginative or ill-intentioned persons fostered
this belief by professing to know what the real law contained.
The most absurd rumours were afloat, and whole villages
sometimes acted upon them. In the province of Moscow,
for instance, one Commune sent a deputation to the
proprietor to inform him that, as he had always been a good
master, the Mir would allow him to retain his house and
garden during his lifetime. In another locality it was
rumoured that the Tsar sat daily on a golden throne in the
Crimea, receiving all peasants who came to him, and giving
them as much land as they desired; and in order to take
advantage of the Imperial liberality a large body of peasants

510 RUSSIA

set out for the place indicated, and had to be stopped by
the miUtary !

As an illustration of the illusions in which the peasantry-
indulged at this time, I may mention here one of the many
characteristic incidents related to me by gentlemen who had
served as Arbiters of the Peace.

In the province of Riazan there was one Commune which
had acquired a certain local notoriety for the obstinacy with
which it refused all arrangements with the proprietor. My
informant, who was Arbiter for the locality, was at last
obliged to make a statute-charter for it without its consent.
He wished, however, that the peasants should voluntarily
accept the arrangement he proposed, and accordingly called
them together to talk with them on the subject. After
explaining fully the part of the law which related to their
case, he asked them what objection they had to making a fair
contract with their old master. For some time he received
no answer, but gradually by questioning individuals he
discovered the cause of their obstinacy : they were firmly
convinced that not only the Communal land, but also the
rest of the estate, belonged to them. To eradicate this
false idea he set himself to reason with them, and the
following characteristic dialogue ensued: —

Arbiter: "If the Tsar gave all the land to the peasantry,
what compensation could he give to the proprietors to whom
the land belongs ? "

Peasant: "The Tsar will give them salaries according
to their service."

Arbiter: "In order to pay these salaries he would require
a great deal more money. Where could he get that money ?
He would have to increase the taxes, and in that way you
would have to pay all the same."

Peasant: "The Tsar can make as much money as he
likes."

Arbiter: "If the Tsar can make as much money as
he likes, why does he make you pay the poll-tax every
year ? "

Peasant : " It is not the Tsar that receives the taxes we
pay."

Arbiter: "Who, then, receives them?"

THE WORK OF THE ARBITERS 511

Peasant {after a little hesitation, and loith a knowing
smile): "The oHicials, ol course ! "

Gradually, through the efforts of the Arbiters, the
peasants came to know better their real position, and the
work began to advance more rapidly. But soon it was
checked by another influence. By the end of the first year
the "liberal," patriotic enthusiasm of the nobles had cooled.
The sentimental, idyllic tendencies had melted away at the
first touch of reality, and those who had imagined that liberty
would have an immediately salutary effect on the moral
character of the serfs confessed themselves disappointed.
Many complained that the peasants showed themselves
greedy and obstinate, stole wood from the forest, allowed
their cattle to wander on the proprietors' fields, failed to fulfil
their legal obligations, and broke their voluntary engage-
ments. At the same time the fears of an agrarian rising
subsided, so that even the timid were tranquillised. From
these causes the conciliatory spirit of the proprietors
decreased.

The work of conciliating and regulating became conse-
quently more difficult, but the great majority of the Arbiters
showed themselves equal to the task, and displayed an
impartiality, tact, and patience beyond all praise. To them
Russia is in great part indebted for the peaceful character
of the Emancipation. Had they sacrificed the general good
to the interests of their class, or had they habitually acted
in that stern, administrative, military spirit which caused
the instances of bloodshed above referred to, the prophecies
of the alarmists would, in all probability, have been realised,
and the historian of the Emancipation would have had a
terrible list of judicial massacres to record. Fortunately
they played the part of mediators, as their name signified,
rather than that of administrators in the bureaucratic sense
of the term, and they were animated with a just and humane
rather than a merely legal spirit. Instead of simply laying
down the law, and ordering their decisions to be immediately
executed, they were ever ready to spend hours in trying
to conquer, by patient and laborious reasoning, the unjust
claims of proprietors or the false conceptions and ignorant
obstinacy of the peasants. It was a new spectacle for Russia

512 RUSSIA

to see a public function fulfilled by conscientious men who
had their heart in their work, who sought neither promo-
tion nor decorations, and who paid less attention to the
punctilious observance of prescribed formalities than to the
real objects in view.

There were, it is true, a few Arbiters to whom this
description does not apply. Some of these were unduly
under the influence of the feelings and conceptions created
by serfage. Some, on the contrary, erred on the other side.
Desirous of securing the future welfare of the peasantry and
of gaining for themselves a certain kind of popularity, and
at the same time animated with a violent spirit of pseudo-
liberalism, these latter occasionally forgot that their duty
was to be, not generous, but just, and that they had no
right to practise generosity at other people's expense. All
this I am quite aware of — I could even name one or two
Arbiters who were guilty of positive dishonesty — but I hold
that these were rare exceptions. The great majority did their
duty faithfully and well.

The work of concluding contracts for the redemption
of the dues, or, in other words, for the purchase of the
land ceded in perpetual usufruct, proceeded slowly. The
arrangement was as follows : — The dues were capitalised at
6 per cent., and the Government paid at once to the
proprietors four-fifths of the whole sum. The peasants were
to pay to the proprietor the remaining fifth, either at once
or in instalments, and to the Government 6 per cent, for
forty-nine years on the sum advanced. The proprietors
willingly adopted this arrangement, for it provided them with
a sum of ready money, and freed them from the difficult task
of collecting the dues. But the peasants did not show much
desire to undertake the operation. Some of them still
expected a second emancipation, and those who did not take
this possibility into their calculations were little disposed
to make present sacrifices for distant prospective advantages
which would not be realised for half a century.

In most cases the proprietor was obliged to remit, in
whole or in part, the fifth to be paid by the peasants. Many
Communes refused to undertake the operation on any
conditions, and in consequence of this not a few proprietors

ALEXANDER THE EMANCIPATOR 513

demanded the so-called obligatory redemption, according to
which they accepted the four-fifths from the Government as
full payment, and the operation was thus effected without
the peasants being consulted. The total number of male
serfs emancipated was about 9,750,000,* and of these, only
about 7,250,000 had, at the beginning of 1875, made redemp-
tion contracts. Of the contracts signed at that time, about 63
per cent, w^ere "obligatory." In 1887 the redemption was
made obligatory for both parties, and in 1905 the redemption-
dues were remitted by the Emperor, so that the rural Com-
munes became full proprietors of the land previously held in
perpetual usufruct.

The serfs were thus not only liberated, but also made
Communal proprietors, and the old Communal institutions
were preserved and developed. In answ-er to the question,
Who effected this gigantic reform ? we may say that the chief
merit undoubtedly belongs to Alexander II. Had he not
possessed a very great amount of courage he would neither
have raised the question nor allowed it to be raised by others,
and had he not shown a great deal more decision and energy
than was expected, the solution would have been indefinitely
postponed. Among the members of his own family he found
an able and energetic assistant in his brother, the Grand
Duke Constantine, and a warm sympathiser with the
cause in the Grand Duchess Helena, a German Princess,
thoroughly devoted to the welfare of her adopted country.
But we must not overlook the important part played by the
nobles. Their conduct was very characteristic. As soon
as the question was raised, a large number of them adopted
the liberal ideas wath enthusiasm; and as soon as it became
evident that emancipation was inevitable, all made a holocaust
of their ancient rights, and demanded to be liberated at once
from all relations with their serfs. Moreover, when the
law was passed, it was the proprietors who faithfully put it
into execution. Lastly, we should remember that praise is
due to the peasantry for their patience under disappointment,
and for their orderly conduct as soon as they understood
the law and recognised it to be the will of the Tsar. Thus it
may justly be said that the Emancipation was not the work of

* This does not include the domestic serfs, who did not receive land.
R

514 RUSSIA

one man, or one party, or one class, but of the nation as a
whole.*

* The names most commonly associated with the Emancipation are
General Rost6ftsev, Lansk6i (Minister of the Interior), Nicholas Miliitin,
Prince Tcherkassky, Samdrin, Koshel(5v. Many others, such as I. A. Solovi^v,
Zhuk6vski, Domont6vitch, Giers — brother of M. Giers, afterwards Minister for
Foreign Affairs — are less known, but did valuable work. To all of these, with
the exception of the first two, who died before my arrival in Russia, 1 have
to confess my obligations. The late Nicholas Miliitin rendered me special
service by putting at my disposal not only all the official papers in his
possession, but also many documents of a private kind.

CHAPTER XXX

THE LANDED PROPRIETORS SINCE THE EMANCIPATION

When the Emancipation question was raised there was a
considerable diversity of opinion as to the effect which the
aboHtion of serfage would have on the material interests of
the two classes directly concerned. The Press and "the
young generation " took an optimistic view, and endeavoured
to prove that the proposed change would be beneficial alike
to proprietors and to peasants. Science, it was said, has
long since decided that free labour is immensely more
productive than slavery or serfage, and the principle has been
already proved to demonstration in the countries of Western
Europe. In all those countries modern agricultural progress
began with the emancipation of the serfs, and increased
productivity was everywhere the immediate result of improve-
ments in the methods of culture. Thus the poor, light soils
of Germany, France, and Holland have been made to
produce more than the vaunted "black earth " of Russia.
And from these ameliorations the landowning class has
everywhere derived the chief advantages. Are not the landed
proprietors of England — the country in which serfage was
first abolished — the richest in the world ? And is not the
proprietor of a few hundred morgen in Germany often richer
than the Russian noble who has thousands of dessyatins?

By these and similar plausible arguments the Press
endeavoured to prove to the proprietors that they ought, even
in their own interest, to undertake the emancipation of the
serfs. Many proprietors, however, showed little faith in
the abstract principles of political economy and the vague
teachings of history as interpreted by the contemporary
periodical literature. They could not always refute the
ingenious arguments adduced by the men of more sanguine
temperament, but they felt convinced that their prospects
were not nearly so bright as these men represented them to

515

5i6 RUSSIA

be. They believed that Russia was a pecuhar country,
and the Russians a peculiar people. The lower classes in
England, France, Holland, and Germany were well known to
be laborious and enterprising, while the Russian peasant
was notoriously lazy, and would certainly, if left to himself,
not do more work than was absolutely necessary to keep
him from starving. Free labour might be more profitable
than serfage in countries where the upper classes possessed
traditional practical knowledge and abundance of capital, but
in Russia the proprietors had neither the practical know-
ledge nor the ready money necessary to make the proposed
ameliorations in the system of agriculture. To all this it was
added that a system of emancipation by which the peasants
should receive land and be made completely independent of
the landed proprietors had nowhere been tried on such a
large scale.

There were thus two diametrically opposite opinions
regarding the economic results of the abolition of serfage,
and we have now to examine which of these two opinions has
been confirmed by experience.

Let us look at the question first from the point of view
of the landowners.

The reader who has never attempted to make investiga-
tions of this kind may naturally imagine that the question
can be easily decided by simply consulting a large number
of individual proprietors, and drawing a general conclusion
from their evidence. In reality I found the task much more
difficult. After roaming about the country for five years
(1870-75), collecting information from the best available
sources, I hesitated to draw any sweeping conclusions, and
my state of mind at that time was naturally reflected in the
early editions of this work. As a rule the proprietors could
not state clearly how much they had lost or gained, and when
definite information was obtained from them, it was not
always trustworthy. In the time of serfage very few of them
had been in the habit of keeping accurate accounts, or
accounts of any kind, and when they lived on their estates
there were a very large number of items which could not
possibly be reduced to figures. Of course, each proprietor
had a general idea as to whether his position was better or

EFFECT OF THE EMANCIPATION 517

^vorse than it had been in the old times, but the vague
statements made by individuals regarding their former and
their actual revenues had little or no scientific value. So
many considerations which had nothing to do with purely
ag-rarian relations entered into the calculations that the con-
elusions did not help me much to estimate the economic
results of the Emancipation as a whole.

Nor, it must be confessed, was the testimony by any
means always unbiased. Not a few spoke of the great
reform in an epic or dithyrambic tone, and among these I
easily distinguished two categories : the one desired to prove
that the measure was a complete success in every way, and
that all classes w^ere benefited by it, not only morally, but
also materially; whilst the others strove to represent the pro-
prietors in general, and themselves in particular, as the self-
sacrificing victims of a great and necessary patriotic reform —
as martyrs in the cause of liberty and progress. I do not
for a moment suppose that these two groups of witnesses
had a clearly conceived intention of deceiving or misleading,
but as a cautious investigator I had to make allowance for
their idealising and sentimental tendencies.

Since that time the situation has become much clearer,
and during recent visits to Russia I have been able to arrive
at much more definite conclusions. These I now proceed
to communicate to the reader.

The Emancipation caused the proprietors of all classes to
pass through a severe economic crisis. Periods of transition
always involve much suffering, and the amount of suffering
is generally in the inverse ratio of the precautions taken
beforehand. In Russia the precautions had been neglected.
Not one proprietor in a hundred had made any serious
preparations for the inevitable change. On the eve of the
Emancipation there were about 10,000,000 of male serfs
on private properties, and of these nearly 7,000,000
remained under the old system of paying their dues in labour.
Of course, everybody knew that Emancipation must come
sooner or later, but forethought, prudence, and readiness to
take time by the forelock are not among the prominent traits
of the Russian character. Hence most of the landowners
were taken unawares. But while all suffered, there were

5i8 RUSSIA

differences of degree. Some were completely shipwrecked.
So long as serfage existed all the relations of life were ill-
defined and extremely elastic, so that a man who was hope-
lessly insolvent might contrive, with very little effort, to keep
his head above water for half a lifetime. For such men the
Emancipation, like a crisis in the commercial world, brought
a day of reckoning. It did not really ruin them, but it
showed them and the world at large that they were ruined,
and they could no longer continue their old mode of life.
For others the crisis was merely temporary. These emerged
with a larger income than they ever had before, but I am not
prepared to say that their material condition has improved,
because the social habits have changed, the cost of living has
become much greater, and the work of administering estates
is incomparably more complicated and laborious than in the
old patriarchal times.

We may greatly simplify the problem by reducing it to
two definite questions : —

1, How far were the proprietors directly indemnified for
the loss of serf labour and for the transfer in perpetual
usufruct of a large part of their estates to the peasantry ?

2. What have the proprietors done with the remainder
of their estates, and how far have they been indirectly
indemnified by the economic changes which have taken place
since the Emancipation ?

With the first of these questions I shall deal very briefly,
because it is a controversial subject involving very com-
plicated calculations which only a specialist can understand.
The conclusion at which I have arrived, after much patient
research, is that in most provinces the compensation was
inadequate, and this conclusion is confirmed by excellent
native authorities. M. Bekhteyev, for example, one of the
most laborious and conscientious investigators in this field
of research, and the author of an admirable work on the
economic results of the Emancipation,* told me recently, in
course of conversation, that in his opinion the peasant dues
fixed by the Emancipation Law represented, throughout the
Black-Earth Zone, only about a half of the value of the labour
previously supplied by the serfs. To this I must add that

• " Khozaistvenniye Itogi istekshago SorokoIStiya. " St. Petersburg, 1902.

DIRECT COMPENSATION 519

the compensation was in reality not nearly so great as it
seemed to be according to the terms of the law. As the
proprietors found it extremely difficult to collect the dues
from the emancipated serfs, and as they required a certain
amount of capital to reorganise the estate on the new basis
of free labour, most of them were practically compelled to
demand the obligatory redemption of the land (obiazdtelny
vuikup), and in adopting this expedient they had to make
considerable sacrifices. Not only had they to accept as full
payment four-fifths of the normal sum, but of this amount the
greater portion was paid in Treasury bonds, which fell at
once to 80 per cent, of their nominal value.

Let us now pass to the second part of the problem : What
have the proprietors done with the part of their estates which
remained to them after ceding the required amount of land
to the Communes ? Have they been indirectly indemnified
for the loss of serf labour by subsequent economic changes ?
How far have they succeeded in making the transition from
serfage to free labour, and what revenues do they now derive
from their estates ? The answer to these questions will
necessarily contain some account of the present economic
position of the proprietors.

On all proprietors the Emancipation had at least one good
effect : it dragged them forcibly from the old path of in-
dolence and routine, and compelled them to think and
calculate regarding their affairs. The hereditary listlessness
and apathy, the traditional habit of looking on the estate
with its serfs as a kind of self-acting machine which must
always spontaneously supply the owner with the means of
living, the inveterate practice of spending all ready money,
and of taking little heed for the morrow — all this, with much
that resulted from it, was rudely swept away and became a
thing of the past. The broad, easy road on which the
proprietors had hitherto let themselves be borne along by
the force of circumstances suddenly split up into a number
of narrow, arduous, thorny paths. Each one had to use his
judgment to determine which of the paths he should adopt,
and, having made his choice, he had to struggle along as
he best could. I remember once asking a proprietor what
effect the Emancipation had had on the class to which he

520 RUSSIA

belonged, and he gave me an answer which is worth record-
ing. "Formerly," he said, "we kept no accounts and drank
champagne ; now we keep accounts and content ourselves
with kvass.^' Like all epigrammatic sayings, this laconic
reply is far from giving a complete description of reality, but
it indicates in a graphic way a change that has unquestion-
ably taken place. As soon as serfage was abolished it was
no longer possible to live like "the flowers of the field."
Many a proprietor who had formerly vegetated in apathetic
ease had to ask himself the question : How am I now to gain
a living? All had to consider what was the most profitable
way of employing the land that remained to them.

The ideal solution of the problem was that as soon as the
peasant-land had been demarcated, the proprietor should take
to farming the remainder of his estate by means of hired
labour and agricultural machines in West-European or
American fashion. Unfortunately, this solution could not be
generally adopted, because the great majority of the land-
lords, even when they had the requisite practical knowledge
of agriculture, had not the requisite capital, and could not
easily obtain it. Where were they to find money for buying
cattle, horses, and agricultural implements, for building
stables and cattle-sheds, and for defraying all the other initial
expenses? And supposing they succeeded in starting the
new system, where was the working capital to come from ?
The old Government institution in which estates could be
mortgaged according to the number of serfs was permanently
closed, and the new land-credit associations had not yet
come into existence. To borrow from private capitalists
was not to be thought of, for money was so scarce that
lo per cent, was considered a "friendly" rate of interest.
Recourse might be had, it is true, to the redemption opera-
tion, but in that case the Government would deduct the
unpaid portion of any outstanding mortgage, and would
pay the balance in depreciated Treasury bonds. In these
circumstances the proprietors could not, as a rule, adopt
what I have called the ideal solution, and had to content
themselves with some simpler and more primitive arrange-
ment. They could employ the peasants of the neighbouring
villages to prepare the land and reap the crops either for a

SCARCITY OF LABOURERS 521

fixed sum per acre or on the metayage system, or they could
let their land to the peasants for one, three, or six years at
a moderate rent.

In the northern agricultural zone, where the soil is poor
and primitive farming with free labour can hardly be made
to pay, the proprietors had to let their land at a small rent,
and those of them who could not find places in the rural
administration migrated to the towns and sought employ-
ment in the public service or in the numerous commercial
and industrial enterprises which were springing up at that
time. There they have since remained. Their country
houses, if inhabited at all, are occupied only for a few
months in summer, and too often present a melancholy
spectacle of neglect and dilapidation. In the Black-Earth
Zone, on the contrary, where the soil still possesses enough
of its natural fertility to make farming on a large scale profit-
able, the estates are in a very different condition. The
owners cultivate at least a part of their property, and can
easily let to the peasants at a fair rent the land which they
do not wish to farm themselves. Some have- adopted the
metayage system ; others get the field-work done by the
peasants at so much per acre. The more energetic, who
have capital enough at their disposal, organise farms with
hired labourers on the European model. If they are not so
well off as formerly, it is because they have adopted a less
patriarchal and more expensive style of living. Their land
has doubled and trebled in value during the last thirty
years, and their revenues have increased, if not in propor-
tion, at least considerably. In 1903 I visited a number of
estates in this region and found them in a very prosperous
condition, with agricultural machines of the English or
American types, an increasing variety in the rotation of
crops, greatly improved breeds of cattle and horses, and all
the other symptoms of a gradual transition to a more
intensive and more rational system of agriculture.

It must be admitted, however, that even in the Black-
Earth Zone the proprietors have formidable difficulties to
contend with, the chief of which are the scarcity of good
farm labourers, the frequent droughts, the low price of
cereals, and the delav in getting the grain conveved to the

522 RUSSIA

seaports. On each of these difficulties and the remedies that
might be applied I could write a separate chapter, but I fear
to overtax the reader's patience, and shall therefore confine
myself to a few remarks about the labour question. On
this subject the complaints are loud and frequent all over
the country. The peasants, it is said, have become lazy,
careless, addicted to drunkenness, and shamelessly dishonest
with regard to their obligations, so that it is difficult to farm
even in the old primitive fashion, and impossible to introduce
radical improvements in the methods of culture. In these
sweeping accusations there is a certain amount of truth.
That the muzhik, when working for others, exerts himself
as little as possible ; that he pays little attention to the
quality of the work done ; that he shows a reckless careless-
ness with regard to his employer's property ; that he is
capable of taking money in advance and failing to fulfil his
contract ; that he occasionally gets drunk ; and that he is
apt to commit certain acts of petty larceny when he gets
the chance — all this is undoubtedly true, whatever biased
theorists and sentimental peasant-worshippers may say to
the contrary.*

It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that the
fault is entirely on the side of the peasants, and equally
erroneous to believe that the evils might be remedied, as
is often suggested, by greater severity on the part of the
tribunals, or by an improved system of passports. Farming
with free labour, like every other department of human
activity, requires a fair amount of knowledge, judgment,
prudence, and tact, which cannot be replaced by ingenious
legislation or judicial severity. In engaging labourers or
servants it is necessary to select them carefully and make
such conditions that they feel it to be to their interest to
fulfil their contract loyally. This is too often overlooked

* Amongst themselves the peasants are not addicted to thieving, as is
proved by the fact that they habitually leave their doors unlocked when the
inmates of the house are working in the fields; but if the muzhik finds in the
proprietor's farmyard a piece of iron or a bit of rope, or any of those little
things that he constantly requires and has difficulty in obtaining, he is very
apt to pick it up and carry it home. Gathering firewood in the landlord's
forest he does not consider as theft, because " God planted the trees and
watered them," and in the time of serfage he was allowed to supply himself
with firewood in this way.

THE ECONOMIC PROBLEM 523

by the Russian landowners. From false views of economy
they are inclined to choose the cheapest labourer without
examining closely his other qualifications, or they take
advantage of the peasant's pecuniary embarrassments and
make with him a contract which it is hardly possible for him
to fulfil. In spring, for instance, when his store of pro-
visions is exhausted and he is being hard pressed by the
tax-collector, they supply him with rye-meal or advance him
a small sum of money on condition of his undertaking to
do a relatively large amount of summer work. He knows
that the contract is unfair to him, but what is he to do ?
He must get food for himself and his family, and a little
ready money for his taxes, for the Communal authorities
will probably sell his cow if he does not pay his arrears.
In desperation he accepts the conditions and puts off the
evil day — consoling himself with the reflection that perhaps
(avos') something may turn up in the meantime — but when
the time comes for fulfilling his engagements the dilemma
revives. According to the contract he ought to work nearly
the whole summer for the proprietor; but he has his own
land to attend to, and he has to make provision for the
winter. In such circumstances the temptation to evade the
terms of the contract is often too strong to be resisted.

In Russia, as in other countries, the principle holds true
that for good labour a fair price must be paid. Several large
proprietors of my acquaintance who habitually act on this
principle assure me that they always obtain as much good
labour as they require. I must add, however, that these
fortunate proprietors have the advantage of possessing a
comfortable amount of working capital, and are therefore
not compelled, as so many of their less fortunate neighbours
are, to manage their estates on the hand-to-mouth principle.

It is only, I fear, a minority of the landed proprietors
that have grappled successfully with these and other diffi-
culties of their position. As a class they are impoverished
and indebted, but this state of things is not due entirely to
serf-emancipation. The indebtedness of the Noblesse is a
hereditary peculiarity of much older date. By some authori-
ties it is attributed to the laws of Peter the Great, by which
all nobles were obliged to spend the best part of their lives

524 RUSSIA

in the military or civil service, and to leave the management
of their estates to incompetent stewards. However that may-
be, it is certain that from the middle of the eighteenth
century downwards the fact has frequently occupied the
attention of the Government, and repeated attempts have
been made to alleviate the evil. The Empress Elizabeth,
Catherine II., Paul, Alexander I., Nicholas I., Alexander
II., and Alexander III. tried successively, as one of the
older ukazes expressed it, "to free the Noblesse from debt
and from greedy moneylenders, and to prevent hereditary
estates from passing into the hands of strangers." The
means commonly adopted was the creation of mortgage
banks founded and controlled by the Government for the
purpose of advancing money to landed proprietors at a
comparatively low rate of interest.

These institutions may have been useful to the few who
desired to improve their estates, but they certainly did not
cure, and rather tended to foster, the inveterate improvidence
of the many. On the eve of the Emancipation the proprietors
were indebted to the Government for the sum of 425 millions
of roubles, and 69 per cent, of their serfs were mortgaged.
A portion of this debt was gradually extinguished by the
redemption operation, so that in 1880 over 300 millions had
been paid off, but in the meantime new debts were being
contracted. In 1873-4 nine private land-mortgage banks
were created, and there was such a rush to obtain money
from them that their paper was a glut in the market, and
became seriously depreciated. When the prices of grain
rose in 1875-80 the mortgage debt was diminished, but when
they began to fall in 1880 it again increased, and in 1881
it stood at 396 millions. As the rate of interest was felt to
be very burdensome there was a strong feeling among the
landed proprietors at that time that the Government ought
to help them, and in 1883 the nobles of the province of Orel
ventured to address the Emperor on the subject. In reply
to the address, Alexander III., who had strong Conserv^ative
leanings, was graciously pleased to declare in an ukaz that
"it was really time to do something to help the Noblesse,"
and accordingly a new land-mortgage bank for the Noblesse
was created. The favourable terms offered by it were taken

EXPROPRIATION OF THE NOBLESSE 525

advantage of to such an extent that in the first four years
of its activity (1886-90) it advanced to the proprietors over
200 milhon roubles. Then came two famine years, and in
1894 the mortgage debt of the Noblesse in that and other
credit establishments was estimated at 994 millions.

By means of mortgages some proprietors succeeded in
weathering the storm, but many gave up the struggle in
despair and migrated to the towns. During the first thirty
years after the Emancipation 20,000 estates were sold, and
the area of land owned by the Noblesse was thereby
diminished by 30 per cent.

This "expropriation of the Noblesse," as it has been
called, has gone on with ever-increasing rapidity. During
the first twenty years after the abolition of serfage (1861-81)
the average amount of Noblesse-land sold yearly was under
one and a half million acres, and it rose steadily until 1906-8,
when it reached an average of over three and a half millions.
In the short period of these three years (1906-8) the pro-
portion of land owned by nobles in Russia proper sank from
52.2 to 48 per cent, of the whole area.

The townward movement indicated by these figures was
naturally strongest among the landed proprietors of the
barren northern regions, who were not in the habit of living
on their estates. In the province of Olonets, for example,
these gentlemen have divested themselves of about 90 per
cent, of their land, and consequently that kind of property
has almost entirely disappeared. On the other hand, in the
black-soil region estates with resident proprietors are still
plentiful, and there is no province in which more than 35
per cent, of the Noblesse-land has been alienated. In one
province of this region (Tula) the amount alienated is only
about 19 per cent.

The habit of mortgaging and selling estates does not
necessarily mean the impoverishment of the landlords as a
class. If the capital raised in that way is devoted to
agricultural improvements, the result may be an increase of
wealth. Unfortunately, in Russia the realised capital was
usually not so employed. A very large proportion of it was
spent unproductively, partly in luxuries and living abroad,
and partly in unprofitable commercial and industrial specula-

526 RUSSIA

tions. The industrial and railway fever which raged at the
time induced many to risk and lose their capital, and it had
indirectly an injurious effect on all by making money
plentiful in the towns, and creating a more expensive style
of living from which the landed gentry could not hold
entirely aloof.

So far I have dwelt on the dark shadows of the picture,
but it is not all shadow. In the last forty years the pro-
duction and export of grain, which constitute the chief
source of revenue for the landed proprietors, have increased
enormously, thanks mainly to the improved means of trans-
port. In the first decade after the Emancipation (1860-70)
the average annual export of grain did not exceed one and
a half million tons; in the second decade (1870-80) it leapt
up to three and a half millions; in the last decade of the
century it reached six millions; and in the latest period
for which we have statistical data (1903-9) it was about
eight millions, representing a value of fifty million pounds
sterling. At the same time the home trade increased in
consequence of the rapidly growing population of the towns.
All this must have enriched the landed proprietors, and
we can hardly suppose that the gains were all squandered
on luxuries and unprofitable speculations.

The pessimists, however — and in Russia their name is
legion — will not admit that any permanent advantage has
been derived from this enormous increase in exports. On
the contrary, they maintain that it is a national misfortune,
because it is leading rapidly to a state of permanent
impoverishment. It quickly exhausted, they say, the large
reserves of grain in the villages, so that as soon as there
was a very bad harvest the Government had to come to the
rescue and feed the starving peasantry. Worse than this,
it compromised the future prosperity of the country. Being
in pecuniary difficulties, and consequently impatient to make
money, the proprietors increased inordinately the area of
grain-producing land at the expense of pasturage and forests,
with the result that the live stock and the manuring of the
land were diminished, the fertility of the soil impaired, and
the necessary quantity of moisture in the atmosphere greatly
lessened. There is some truth in this contention; but it

BENEFITS TO PROPRIETORS 527

would seem that the soil and climate have not been affected
so much as the pessimists suppose, because in recent years
there have been some very good harvests.

On the whole, then, I think it may be justly said that
the efforts of the landed proprietors to work their estates
without serf labour have not as yet been brilliantly successful.
Those who have failed are in the habit of complaining that
they have not received sufficient support from the Govern-
ment, which is accused of having systematically sacrificed
the interests of agriculture, the mainstay of the national
resources, to the creation of artificial and unnecessary
manufacturing industries. How far such complaints and
accusations are well founded I shall not attempt to decide. It
is a complicated polemical question, into which the reader
would probably decline to accompany me. Let us examine
rather what influence the above-mentioned changes have had
on the peasantry.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE EMANCIPATED PEASANTRY

At the commencement of the last chapter I pointed out in
general terms the difficulty of describing clearly the immediate
consequences of the Emancipation. In beginning now to
speak of the influence which the great reform has had on the
peasantry, I feel that the difficulty has reached its climax.
The foreigner who desires merely to gain a general idea of
the subject cannot be expected to take an interest in details,
and even if he took the trouble to examine them attentively,
he would derive from the labour little real information.
What he wishes is a clear, concise, and dogmatic statement
of general results. Has the material and moral condition
of the peasantry improved since the Emancipation ? That
is the simple question which he has to put, and he naturally
expects a simple, categorical answer.

In beginning my researches in this interesting field of
inquiry, I had no adequate conception of the difficulties
awaiting me. I imagined that I had merely to question
intelligent, competent men who had had abundant oppor-
tunities of observation, and to criticise and boil down the
information collected; but when I put this method of
investigation to the test of experience it proved unsatisfac-
tory. Very soon I came to perceive that my authorities were
very far from being impartial observers. Most of them were
evidently suffering from shattered illusions. They had
expected that the Emancipation would produce instantane-
ously a wonderful improvement in the life and character of
the rural population, and that the peasant would become
at once a sober, industrious, model agriculturist.

These expectations were not realised. One year passed,
five years passed, ten years passed, and the expected trans-
formation did not take place. On the contrary, there
appeared certain very ugly phenomena which were not at all

528

PESSIMISM OF PROPRIETORS 529

in the programme. The peasants, it was said, began to
drink more and to work less, and the pubhc Hfe which the
Communal institutions produced was by no means of a
desirable kind. The "bawlers" (gorlopdny) acquired a
prejudicial influence in the Village Assemblies, and in very
many Volosts the peasant judges, elected by their fellow-
villagers, acquired a bad habit of selling their decisions for
vodka. The natural consequence of all this was that those
who had indulged in exaggerated expectations sank into a
state of inordinate despondency, and imagined things to be
much worse than they really were.

For different reasons, those who had not indulged in
exaggerated expectations, and had not sympathised with the
Emancipation in the form in which it was effected, w-ere
equally inclined to take a pessimistic view of the situation.
In every ugly phenomenon they found a confirmation of
their opinions. The result was precisely what they had fore-
told. The peasants had used their liberty and their privileges
to their own detriment and to the detriment of others !

The extreme "Liberals" were also inclined, for reasons
of their own, to join in the doleful chorus. They desired
that the condition of the peasantry should be further im-
proved by legislative enactments, and accordingly they
painted the evils in as dark colours as possible.

Thus, from various reasons, the majority of the educated
classes were unduly disposed to represent to themselves and
to others the actual condition of the peasantry in a very
unfavourable light, and I felt that from them there was no
hope of obtaining the lumen siccu77i which I desired. I
determined, therefore, to try the method of questioning the
peasants themselves. Surely they must know whether their
condition was better or worse than it had been before their
Emancipation.

Again I was doomed to disappointment. A few months'
experience sufficed to convince me that my new method was
by no means so effectual as I had imagined. Uneducated
people rarely make generalisations which have no practical
utility, and I feel sure that very few Russian peasants ever
put to themselves the question : Am I better off now than
I or my father was in the time of serfage? When such a

530 RUSSIA

question is put to them they feel taken aback. And in truth
it is no easy matter to sum up the two sides of the account
and draw an accurate balance, save in those exceptional
cases in which the proprietor flagrantly abused his authority.
The present money-dues and taxes are often more burden-
some than the labour-dues in the old times. If the serfs
had a great many ill-defined obligations to fulfil — such as the
carting of the master's grain to market, the preparing of
his firewood, the supplying him with eggs, chickens, home-
made linen, and the like — they had, on the other hand, a
good many ill-defined privileges. They grazed their cattle
during a part of the year on the manor-land ; they received
firewood and occasionally logs for repairing their huts;
sometimes the proprietor lent them or gave them a cow or
a horse when they had been visited by the cattle-plague
or the horse-stealer ; and in times of famine they could look
to their master for support. All this has now come to an
end. Their burdens and their privileges have been swept
away together, and been replaced by clearly defined, un-
bending, unelastic legal relations. They have now to pay
the market-price for every stick of firewood which they burn,
for every log which they require for repairing their houses,
and for every rood of land on which to graze their cattle.
Nothing is now to be had gratis. The demand to pay is
encountered at every step. If a cow dies or a horse is stolen,
the owner can no longer go to the proprietor with the hope
of receiving a present, or at least a loan without interest,
but must, if he has no ready money, apply to the village
usurer, who probably considers 20 or 30 per cent, as
a by no means exorbitant rate of interest.

Besides this, from the economic point of view village
life has been completely revolutionised. Formerly the
members of a peasant family obtained from their ordinary
domestic resources nearly all they required. Their food
came from their fields, cabbage-garden, and farmyard.
Materials for clothing were supplied by their plots of flax
and their sheep, and were worked up into linen and cloth by
the female members of the household. Fuel, as I have said,
and torches wherewith to light the isba — for oil was too
expensive and petroleum was unknown — were obtained

CHANGE IN VILLAGE LIFE 531

gratis. Their sheep, cattle, and horses were bred at home,
and their agricultural implements, except in so far as a little
iron was required, could be made by themselves without any
pecuniary expenditure. Money was required only for the
purchase of a few cheap domestic utensils, such as pots,
pans, knives, hatchets, wooden dishes and spoons, and for
the payment of taxes, which were small in amount and often
paid by the proprietor. In these circumstances the quantity
of money in circulation among the peasants w-as infinitesim-
ally small, the few exchanges which took place in a village
being generally effected by barter. The taxes and the vodka
required for village festivals, weddings, or funerals were
the only large items of expenditure for the year, and they
were generally covered by the sums brought home by the
members of the family who went to work in the towns.

Very different is the present condition of affairs. The
spinning, weaving, and other home industries have been
killed by the big factories, and the flax and wool have to
be sold to raise a little ready money for the numerous new
items of expenditure. Everything has to be bought — clothes,
firewood, petroleum, improved agricultural implements, and
many other articles which are now regarded as necessaries
of life — w'hilst comparatively little is earned by working in
the towns, because the big families have been broken up,
and a household now consists usually of husband and wife,
who must both remain at home, and children who are not
yet bread-wanners. Recalling to mind all these things and
the other drawbacks and advantages of his actual position,
the old muzhik has naturally much difficulty in striking a
balance, and he may well be quite sincere when, on being
asked whether things now are on the whole better or worse
than in the time of serfage, he scratches the back of his
head and replies hesitatingly, with a mystified expression
on his wrinkled face : "How shall I say to you? They are
both better and worse! " {" Kak vam skazdt'? I lutche i
khudahe!") If, however, you press him further, and ask
whether he would himself like to return to the old state of
things, he is pretty sure to answer, with a slow shake of
the head and a twinkle in his eye, as if some forgotten item
in the account had suddenlv recurred to him : **Oh, no ! "

532 RUSSIA

What materially increases the difficulty of this general
computation is that great changes have taken place in the
well-being of the particular households. Some have greatly
prospered, while others have become impoverished. That is
one of the most characteristic consequences of the Emanci-
pation. In the old times the general economic stagnation
and the uncontrolled authority of the proprietor tended to
keep all the households of a village on the same level. There
was little opportunity for an intelligent, enterprising serf to
become rich, and if he contrived to increase his revenue,
he had probably to give a considerable share of it to the
proprietor, unless he had the good fortune to belong to a
grand seigneur like Count Sheremetiev, who was proud of
having rich men among his serfs.

On the other hand, the proprietor, for evident reasons of
self-interest, as well as from benevolent motives, prevented
the less intelligent and less enterprising members of the
Commune from becoming bankrupt. The Communal
equality thus artificially maintained has now disappeared,
the restrictions on individual freedom of action have been
removed, the struggle for life has become intensified, and,
as always happens in such circumstances, the strong men
go up in the world while the weak ones go to the wall.
All over the country we find on the one hand the beginnings
of a village aristocracy — or perhaps we should call it a
plutocracy, for it is based on money— and on the other
hand an ever-increasing pauperism. Some peasants possess
capital, with which they buy land outside the Commune or
embark in trade, while others have to sell their live stock,
and have sometimes to cede to neighbours their share of the
Communal property. This change in rural life is so often
referred to that, in order to express it, a new, barbarous
word, differcntsiatsia (differentiation) has been invented.

Hoping to obtain fuller information with the aid of
official protection, I attached myself to one of the travelling
sections of an agricultural Commission appointed by the
Government, and during a whole summer I helped to collect
materials in the provinces bordering on the Volga. The
inquiry resulted in a gigantic report of nearly 2,500 folio
pages, but the general conclusions were extremely vague.

A PERIOD OF TRANSITION 533

The peasantry, it was said, were passing, like the landed
proprietors, through a period of transition, in which the
main features of their future normal life had not yet become
clearly defined. In some localities their condition had
decidedly improved, whereas in others it had improved little
or not at all. Then followed a long list of recommendations
in favour of Government assistance, better agronomic educa-
tion, competitive exhibitions, more varied rotation of crops,
and greater zeal on the part of the clergy in disseminating
among the people moral principles in general and love of
work in particular.

Not greatly enlightened by this official activity, I returned
to my private studies, and at the end of six years I published
my impressions and conclusions in the first edition of this
work. While recognising that there was much uncertainty
as to the future, I was inclined, on the whole, to take a
hopeful view of the situation. I was unable, however, to
maintain permanently that comfortable frame of mind. After
my departure from Russia in 1878, the accounts which
reached me from various parts of the country became blacker
and blacker, and were partly confirmed by short tours which
I made in 1889-96. At last, in the summer of 1903, I deter-
mined to return to some of my old haunts and look at things
with my own eyes. At that moment some hospitable friends
invited me to pay them a visit at their country-house in the
province of Smolensk, and I gladly accepted the invitation
because Smolensk, when I knew it formerly, was one of the
poorest provinces, and I thought it well to begin my new
studies by examining the impoverishment, of which I had
heard so much, at its maximum.

From the railway station at Viazma, where I arrived one
morning at sunrise, I had some twenty miles to drive, and
as soon as I got clear of the little town I began my observa-
tions. What I saw around me seemed to contradict the
sombre accounts I had received. The villages through which
I passed had not at all the look of dilapidation and misery
which I expected. On the contrary, the houses were larger
and better constructed than they used to be, and each of
them had a chimney ! That latter fact was important,
because formerly a large proportion of the peasants of this

534 RUSSIA

region had no such luxury, and allowed the smoke to find
its exit by the open door. In vain I looked for a hut of the
old type, and my yamstchik assured me I should have to go
a long way to find one. Then I noticed a good many iron
ploughs of the European model, and my yamstchik informed
me that their predecessor, the sokhd, with which I had been
so familiar, had entirely disappeared from the district. Next
I noticed that in the neighbourhood of the villages flax
was grown in large quantities. That w-as certainly not an
indication of poverty, because flax is a valuable product
which requires to be well manured, and plentiful manure
implies a considerable quantity of live stock. Lastly, before
arriving at my destination, I noticed clover being grown in
the fields. This made me open my eyes with astonishment,
because the introduction of artificial grasses into the
traditional rotation of crops indicates the transition to a
higher and more intensive system of agriculture. As I had
never seen clover in Russia except on the estates of very
advanced proprietors, I said to my yamstchik: —

"Listen, little brother! That field belongs to the land-
lord ? "

"Not at all, Master; it is muzhik-land."

On arriving at the country-house I told my friends what
I had seen, and they explained it to me. Smolensk is no
longer one of the poorer provinces ; it has become compara-
tively prosperous. In two or three districts large quantities
of flax are produced and give the cultivators a big revenue ;
in other districts plenty of remunerative work is supplied by
the forests. Everywhere a considerable proportion of the
younger men go regularly to the towns and bring home
savings enough to pay the taxes and make a little surplus
in the domestic budget. A few days afterwards the village
secretary brought me his books, and showed me that there
were practically no arrears of taxation.

Passing on to other provinces, I found similar proofs of
progress and prosperity, but at the same time not a few
indications of impoverishment; and I was rapidly relapsing
into my previous state of uncertainty as to whether any
general conclusions could be drawn, when an old friend,
himself a first-rate authority, with many years of practical

PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY 535

experience, came to my assistance.* He informed me that
a number of specialists had recently made detailed investi-
gations into the present economic conditions of the rural
population, and he kindly placed at my disposal, in his
charming country-house near Moscow, the voluminous
researches of these investigators. Here, during a good many
weeks, I revelled in the statistical materials collected, and to
the best of my ability I tested the conclusions drawn from
them. Many of these conclusions I had to dismiss with the
Scottish verdict of "not proven," whilst others seemed to me
worthy of acceptance. Of these latter the most important
were those drawn from the arrears of taxation.

The arrears in the payment of taxes may be regarded as
a pretty safe barometer for testing the condition of the rural
population, because the peasant habitually pays his rates
and taxes when he has the means of doing so; when he falls
seriously and permanently into arrears, it may be assumed
that he is becoming impoverished. If the arrears fluctuate
from year to year, the causes of the impoverishment may
be regarded as accidental and perhaps temporary, but if they
steadily accumulate, we must conclude that there is something
radically wrong. Bearing these facts in mind, let us hear
what the statistics say.

During the first twenty years after the Emancipation
(1861-81) things went on in their old grooves. The poor
provinces remained poor, and the fertile provinces showed
no signs of distress. During the next twenty years (1881-
1901) the arrears of the whole of European Russia rose,
roughly speaking, from 27 to 144 millions of roubles, and
the increase, strange to say, took place chiefly in the fertile
provinces. In 1890, for example, out of 52 millions, nearly
41 millions, or 78 per cent., fell to the share of the provinces
of the Black-Earth Zone. In seven of these the average
arrears per male, w-hich had been in 1882 only 90 kopeks,
rose in 1893 to 600, and in 1899 to 2,200 ! And this accumu-
lation had taken place in spite of reductions of taxation to
the extent of 37 million roubles in 1881-83, ^^^ successive
famine grants from the Treasurv in 1891-99 to the amount

* I hope I am committing no indiscretion when I say that the old friend
in question was Prince Alexander Stcherbdtov of Vasilievskoe.

536 RUSSIA

of 203 millions.* On the other hand, in the provinces with
a poor soil the arrears had greatly decreased. In Smolensk,
for example, they had sunk from 202 per cent, to 13 per cent,
of the annual sum to be paid, and in nearly all the other
provinces of the west and north a similar change for the
better had taken place.

These and many other figures which I might quote show
that a great and very curious economic revolution has been
gradually effected. The Black-Earth Zone, which was
formerly regarded as the inexhaustible granary of the
Empire, has become impoverished, whilst the provinces
which were formerly regarded as hopelessly poor are now
in a comparatively flourishing condition. This fact has been
officially recognised. In a classification of the provinces
according to their degree of prosperity, drawn up by a
special commission of experts in 1903, those with a poor light
soil appear at the top, and those with the famous black earth
are at the bottom of the list. In the deliberations of the
commission, many reasons for this extraordinary state of
things are adduced. Most of them have merely a local
significance. The big fact, taken as a whole, seems to me
to show that, in consequence of certain changes of which I
shall speak presently, the peasantry of European Russia can
no longer live by the traditional modes of agriculture, even
in the most fertile districts, and require for their support
some subsidiary occupations such as are practised in the less
fertile provinces.

Another sign of impoverishment is the decrease in the
quantity of live stock. According to the very imperfect
statistics available, for every hundred inhabitants the number
of horses has decreased from 26 to 17, the number of cattle
from 36 to 25, and the number of sheep from 73 to 40. This
is a serious matter, because it means that the land is not so
well manured and cultivated as formerly, and is consequently
not so productive. Several economists have attempted to fix
precisely to what extent the productivity has decreased, but
I confess I have little faith in the accuracy of their con-
clusions. M. Polenof, for example, a most able and

* In iqoi an additional famine grant of 331^ million roubles had to be
made by the Government.

PEASANT IMPOVERISHMENT 537

conscientious investigator, calculates that between 1861 and
1895, all over Russia, the amount of food produced, in
relation to the number of the population, has decreased by
seven per cent. His methods of calculation are ingenious,
but the statistical data with which he operates are so far
from accurate that his conclusions on this point have, in my
opinion, little or no scientific value. With all due deference
to Russian economists I may say parenthetically that they
are very fond of juggling with carelessly collected statistics,
as if their data were mathematical quantities.

Several of the Zemstvos have grappled with this question
of peasant impoverishment, and the data which they have
collected make a very doleful impression. In the province
of Moscow^ for example, a careful investigation gave the
following results : Forty per cent, of the peasant households
had no longer any horses, fifteen per cent, had given up
agriculture altogether, and about ten per cent, had no longer
any land. We must not, how'ever, assume, as is often done,
that the peasant families who have no live stock and no
longer till the land are utterly ruined. In reality many of
them are better ofT than their neighbours who appear as
prosperous in the official statistics, having found profitable
occupation in the home industries, in the towns, in the
factories, or on the estates of the landed proprietors. It
must be remembered that Moscow is the centre of one of
the regions in which manufacturing industry has progressed
with gigantic strides during the last half-century, and it
would be strange indeed if, in such a region, the peasantry
who supply the labour to the towns and factories remained
thriving agriculturists. That many Russians are surprised
and horrified at the actual state of things shows to what an
extent the educated classes are still under the illusion that
Russia can create for herself a manufacturing industry
capable of competing with that of Western Europe without
uprooting from the soil a portion of her rural population.

It is only in the purely agricultural regions that families
officially classed as belonging to the peasantry may be
regarded as on the brink of pauperism because they have
no live stock, and even with regard to them I should hesitate
to make such an assumption, because the muzhiks, as I have

538 RUSSIA

already had occasion to remark, have strange nomadic habits
unknown to the rural population of other countries. It is a
mistake, therefore, to calculate the Russian peasant's budget
exclusively on the basis of local resources.

To the pessimists who assure me that according to their
calculations the peasantry in general must be on the brink
of starvation, I reply that there are many facts, even in the
statistical tables on which they rely, which run counter to
their deductions. Let me quote a few by way of illustration.
The peasantry have not only redeemed the land which they
received at the time of the Emancipation, but they have also,
of their own free will, greatly added to it by purchase, with
the assistance of a Peasant Land-Bank, which was founded
for that purpose by the Government in 1882. During the
first twenty years of its activity that institution expended
over forty millions sterling on the purchase of nineteen
millions of acres, which were re-sold to rural communes,
peasant associations, and individual peasants on the credit
system. In subsequent years these operations were greatly
increased and accelerated. During the three years of 1906,
1907 and 1908 the quantity of land purchased by the peasants
with the assistance of the bank amounted to 5,827,000 acres,
which constituted an addition of about one-twelfth to the
land they already possessed. All these purchases remain,
of course, mortgaged until the debt to the bank is extin-
guished by the sinking fund, and the fact that the owners
willingly pay, as interest and sinking fund, no less than
y^ per cent., shows that the peasantry as a class are very
far from absolute destitution. No doubt there is another
side to the medal. While many peasants are thus increasing
their landed property, others are becoming poorer, but this
is merely one of those inevitable results of economic progress
of which I have spoken elsewhere.

Another indication that the impoverishment of the
peasantry is not so great as is often asserted is to be found
in the extension of savings banks and small credit associa-
tions. From 1865 to 1909 the branches of the Government
Savings Bank increased in number from 47 to 6,752, the
number of depositors from 72,000 to over six millions, and
the amount of deposits from ;^564,ooo to over 120 millions

DEMORALISATION OF THE PEOPLE 539

sterling, of which about one-fourth is beUeved to belong to
the rural population. In addition to this, there are now
3*556 village savings banks, which held in igio deposits to
the amount of ;^2, 780,000, and a large number of rural
credit associations, of which 1,476 held deposits amounting
to ;^6,ooo,ooo. This is not much for a big country like
Russia, but it is a beginning, and it suggests that the
impoverishment is not so severe and so universal as the
pessimists would have us believe.

There is thus room for differences of opinion as to how
far the peasantry have become impoverished, but there is no
doubt that their condition is far from satisfactory, and we
have to face the important problem why the abolition of
serfage has not produced the beneficent consequences which
even moderate men so confidently predicted, and how the
present unsatisfactory state of things is to be remedied.

The most common explanation among those who have
never seriously studied the subject is that it all comes from
the demoralisation of the common people. In this view
there is a modicum of truth. That the peasantry injure their
material welfare by drunkenness and improvidence there can
be no reasonable doubt, as is shown by the comparatively
flourishing state of certain villages of Old Ritualists and
Molokanye in which there is no drunkenness, and in which
the community exercises a strong moral control over the
individual members. If the Orthodox Church could make
the peasantry refrain from the inordinate use of strong drink
as effectually as it makes them refrain during a great part
of the year from animal food, and if it could instil into their
minds a few simple moral principles as successfully as it has
inspired them with a belief in the efficacy of the Sacraments,
it would certainly confer on them an inestimable benefit.
But this is not to be expected. The great majority of the
parish priests are quite unfit for such a task, and the few
who have aspirations in that direction rarely acquire a
perceptible moral influence over their parishioners.

Perhaps more is to be expected from the schoolmaster
than from the priest, but it will be long before the schools
can produce even a partial moral regeneration. Their first
influence, strange as the assertion may seem, is often in a

540 RUSSIA

diametrically opposite direction. When only a few peasants
in a village can read and write they have such facilities for
overreaching their "dark" neighbours that they are apt to
employ their knowledge for dishonest purposes; and thus it
occasionally happens that the man who has the most educa-
tion is the greatest scoundrel in the Mir. Such facts are
often used by the opponents of popular education, but in
reality they supply a good reason for disseminating primary
education as rapidly as possible. When all the peasants
have learned to read and write they will present a less inviting
field for swindling, and the temptations to dishonesty will
be proportionately diminished. Meanwhile it must be ad-
mitted that the village schools sometimes tend to demoralise
rather than moralise the peasantry by disseminating crude
Socialist notions. During the revolutionary movement of
1905-7, for example, the village schoolmaster sometimes
helped the student-agitators to foment agrarian disorders.

After drunkenness the besetting sin which is supposed
to explain the impoverishment of the peasantry is incor-
rigible laziness. On that subject I feel inclined to put in a
plea of extenuating circumstances in favour of the muzhik.
Certainly he is very slow in his movements — slower perhaps
than the English rustic — and he has a marvellous capacity
for wasting valuable time without any perceptible qualms of
conscience; but he is in this respect, if I may use a favourite
phrase of the Social Scientists, "the product of environment."
To the proprietors who habitually reproach him with time-
wasting he might reply with a very strong tu quoque argu-
ment, and to other classes of the population the argument
might likewise be addressed. The St. Petersburg official,
for example, who writes edifying disquisitions about peasant
indolence, considers that for himself attendance at his office
for four hours, a large portion of which is devoted to the
unproductive labour of cigarette smoking, constitutes a very
fair day's work. The truth is that in Russia the struggle
for life is not nearly so intense as in more densely populated
countries, and society is so constituted that all can live
without very strenuous exertion. The Russians seem, there-
fore, to the traveller who comes from the West an indolent,
apathetic race. If the traveller happens to come from the

PEASANT SELF-GOVERNMENT 54i

East — especially if he has been living among pastoral races —
the Russians will appear to him energetic and laborious.
Their character in this respect corresponds to their
geographical position : they stand midway between the
laborious, painstaking, industrious population of Western
Europe and the indolent, undisciplined, spasmodically
energetic populations of Central Asia. They are capable
of effecting much by vigorous, intermittent effort — witness
the peasant at harvest time, or the St. Petersburg official
when some big legislative project has to be submitted to the
Emperor before a given date — but they have not yet learned
regular laborious habits. In short, the Russians might
move the world if it could be done by a jerk, but they are
still deficient in that calm perseverance and dogged tenacity
which characterise the Teutonic race.

Without seeking further to determine hoW' far the moral
defects of the peasantry have a deleterious influence on their
material welfare, I proceed to examine the external causes
which are generally supposed to contribute largely to their
impoverishment, and will deal first with the evils of peasant
self-government.

That the peasant self-government is very far from being
in a satisfactory condition must be admitted by any impartial
observer. The more laborious and well-to-do peasants, unless
they wish to abuse their position directly or indirectly for
their own advantage, try to escape election as office-bearers,
and leave the administration in the hands of the less
respectable members. Not unfrequently a Volost Elder trades
with the money he collects as dues or taxes ; and sometimes,
when he becomes insolvent, the peasants have to pay their
taxes and dues a second time. The Village Assemblies, too,
have become worse than they were in the days of serfage.
At that time the Heads of Households — who, it must be
remembered, have alone a voice in the decisions — were few
in number, laborious, and well-to-do, and they kept the lazy,
unruly members under strict control. Now that the large
families have been broken up, and almost every adult peasant
is Head of a Household, the Communal affairs are sometimes
decided by a noisy majority ; and certain Communal decisions
may be obtained by "treating the Mir " — that is to say, by

542 RUSSIA

supplying a certain amount of vodka. Often I have heard
old peasants speak of these things, and finish their recital
by some such remark as this : "There is no order now; the
people have been spoiled; it was better in the time of the
masters."

These evils are very real, and I have no desire to extenuate
them, but I believe they are by no means so great as is
commonly supposed. If the lazy, worthless members of the
Commune had really the direction of Communal affairs we
should find that in the Northern Agricultural Zone, where
it is necessary to manure the soil, the periodical redistribu-
tions of the Communal land would be very frequent ; for in
a new distribution the lazy peasant has a good chance of
getting a well-manured lot in exchange for the lot which he
has exhausted. In reality, so far as my observations extend,
these general distributions of the land are not more frequent
than they were before.

Of the various functions of the peasant self-government
the judicial are perhaps the most frequently and the most
severely criticised. And certainly not without reason, for the
Volost Courts are too often accessible to the influence of
alcohol, and in some districts the peasants say that he who
becomes a judge takes a sin on his soul. I am not at all
sure, however, that it would be well to abolish these courts
altogether, as some people propose. In many respects they
are better suited to peasant requirements than the ordinary
tribunals. Their procedure is infinitely simpler, more ex-
peditious, and incomparably less expensive, and they are
guided by traditional custom and plain common sense,
whereas the ordinary tribunals have to judge according to
the civil law, which is unknown to the peasantry and not
always applicable to their affairs. Few ordinary judges have
a sufficiently intimate knowledge of the minute details of
peasant life to be able to decide fairly the cases that are
brought before the Volost Courts ; and even if a justice had
sufficient knowledge he could not adopt the moral and
juridical notions of the peasantry. These are often very
different from those of the upper classes. In cases of matri-
monial separation, for instance, the educated man naturally
assumes that, if there is any question of alimony, it should

PEASANT JUDGES 543

be paid by the husband to the wife. The peasant, on the
contrary, assumes as naturally that the wife who ceases to
be a member of the family ought to pay compensation for the
loss of labour power which the separation involves. In like
manner, according to traditional peasant-law, if an un-
married son is working away from home, his earnings do
not belong to himself, but to his family, and in a
Vulost Court they could be claimed by the Head of the
Household.

Occasionally, it is true, the peasant judges allow their
respect for old traditional conceptions in general, and for
the authority of parents in particular, to carry them a little
too far. I was told lately of one affair which took place not
long ago, within a hundred miles of Moscow, in which the
judges decided that a respectable young peasant should be
flogged because he refused to give his father the money he
earned as groom in the service of a neighbouring pro-
prietor, though it was notorious in the district that the
father was a disreputable old drunkard who carried to the
kahak (gin-shop) all the money he could obtain by fair means
and foul. When I remarked to my informant, who was not
an admirer of peasant institutions, that the incident reminded
me of the respect for the patria potestas in old Roman times,
he stared at me with a look of surprise and indignation, and
exclaimed laconically, "Patria potestas? No, no! Simply
Vodka!'' He was evidently convinced that the disreputable
old father had got his respectable son flogged by "treating"
the judges. In such cases flogging can no longer be used,
for the Volost Courts were recently deprived of the right to
inflict corporal punishment.

These administrative and judicial abuses gradually
reached the ears of the Government, and in 1889 it attempted
to remove them by creating a body of Rural Supervisors
(Zemskiye Natchalniki). Under their supervision and control
some abuses may have been occasionally prevented or cor-
rected, and some rascally Volost Secretaries may have been
punished or dismissed, but the peasant self-government as a
whole has not been perceptibly improved, and the Super-
visors, or Land Captains as they are sometimes called, are
extremely unpopular. In the Duma and elsewhere I have

544 RUSSIA

frequently heard' them described as simply instruments of
bureaucratic tyranny.

Let us glance now at the opinions of those who hold that
the material progress of the peasantry has been prevented
chiefly, not by the mere abuses of the Communal administra-
tion, but by the essential principles of the Communal in-
stitutions, and especially by the practice of periodically
redistributing the Communal land. In the endless discussions
on this subject between abolitionists and Conservatives,
there has been a great deal of exaggeration on both sides.
The backward condition of the peasantry cannot really be
explained by the influence of one particular institution or
custom ; it is the result of the economic, social and poli-
tical development of the nation as a whole ; and among
the numerous causes by which it has been produced,
the traditional practice of periodically redistributing the
Communal land has played, I believe, a very subordinate
part.

As a matter of principle there can be no doubt that it is
much more difficult to farm well on a large number of narrow
strips of land, many of which are at a great distance from
the farmyard, than on a compact piece of land which the
farmer may divide and cultivate as he pleases ; and there can
be as little doubt that the husbandman is more likely to
improve his land if his tenure is secure. All this, and much
more of the same kind, must be accepted as indisputable
truth, but it has little direct bearing on the concrete practical
question as to why the Russian peasantry have made so little
progress in agriculture. That they were prevented by the
Communal institutions from adopting various systems of
high farming is a theory which hardly requires serious con-
sideration. They never thought of such radical innovations,
and if they had conceived such novel ideas they possessed
neither the knowledge nor the capital necessary to realise
them. Since the Emancipation, in many villages some of
the more intelligent and enterprising peasants purchase
land outside the Communal limits, and are free to cultivate
it as thev please; but on this private property they rarely
improve their traditional methods of culture. And in this
there is nothing surprising, because the neighbouring estates,

COMMUNAL SYSTEM 545

owned by rich landed proprietors, are farmed precisely in
the same primitive fashion.

But is it not true that the Commune prevented good
cultivation according to the system of agriculture actually
in use ? To reply to this question I must make a little
digression.

Except in the far north and the Steppe region, where the
agriculture is of a peculiar kind, adapted to the local con-
ditions, the peasants invariably till their land according to the
ordinary three-field system, in which good cultivation means,
practically speaking, the plentiful use of manure. Does,
then, the existence of the Mir prevent the peasants from
manuring their fields well ?

Many people who speak on this subject in an authoritative
tone seem to imagine that the peasants in general do not
manure their fields at all. This idea is an utter mistake. In
those regions, it is true, where the rich black soil still retains
a large part of its virgin fertility, the manure is used as fuel,
or simply thrown away, because the peasants believe that it
would not be profitable to put it on their fields, and their
conviction is, at least to some extent, well founded ; * but
in the Northern Agricultural Zone, where unmanured soil
gives only a very meagre harvest, the peasants put upon
their fields all the manure they possess. If they do not put
enough it is simply because they have not sufficient live-
stock .

It is only in the southern provinces, where no manure is
required, that periodical redistributions take place frequently.
As we travel northward we find the term lengthens; and in
the Northern Agricultural Zone, where manure is indis-
pensable, general redistributions are extremely rare. In the
province of Yaroslavl, for example, the Communal land is
generally divided into two parts : the manured land lying
near the village, and the unmanured land lying beyond.
The latter alone is subject to frequent redistribution. On
the former the existing tenures are rarely disturbed, and
when it becomes necessary to give a share to a new

* As recently as 1003 I found that one of the most intelligent and enerj^etic
landlords of the province of Vor6nczh followed in this respf^ct the example
of the peasants, and he assured me that he had proved by experience the
advantage of doing so.
S

546 RUSSIA

household, the change is effected with the least possible
prejudice to vested rights.

The policy of the Government has ahvays been to admit
redistributions in principle, but to prevent their too frequent
recurrence. For this purpose the Emancipation Law stipu-
lated that they could be decreed only by a three-fourths
majority of the Village Assembly, and in 1893 a further
obstacle was created by a law providing that the minimum
term between two redistributions should be twelve years, and
that they should never be undertaken without the sanction of
the Rural Supervisor.

Whatever the merits and disadvantages of the Russian
Communal system may be, this venerable institution now
seems destined to disappear. In official circles it has
come to be regarded as one of the greatest obstacles to
economic development by hampering the energies of the
more industrious and enterprising section of the peasantry;
and it is believed to conduce to the spread of revolutionary
ideas by preventing the growth of a healthy veneration for
the rights of private property. One of its most determined
enemies was M. Stolypin. Soon after his accession to
power he prepared a Bill for its gradual abolition, and this
bill was issued as an ukaz on November 22, 1906. Since
that time local commissions have been busy at work all
over the country, making arrangements for the transition
from Communal to individual property, and their labours are
already bearing fruit abundantly. On May i, 191 1, no less
than 1,518,800 Heads of Households had made the transition,
and about 30,000,000 acres of Communal land had become
private property. If the work of these commissions, which
display great zeal and ability, continues to advance as rapidly
as hitherto, it must effect, in a few years, a wonderful revolu-
tion in the economic life of the peasantry. Meanwhile the
results are being awaited with intense interest by all serious
students of Russian affairs.*

Up to this point I have dealt with the so-called causes of
peasant impoverishment which are much talked of, but which

* On this subject two interesting? articles by Mr. Shidlovsky and Pro-
fessor Pares have been published in the first number (January, 1012) of The
Russian Review, an excellent quarterly periodical recently founded by the
School of Russian Studies in the University of Liverpool.

HEAVY TAXATION 547

are, in my opinion, only of secondary importance. I pass
now to those which are more tangible and which have
exerted on the condition of the peasantry a more palpable
influence. And, first, inordinate taxation.

This is a very big subject, on which a bulky volume
might be written, but I shall cut it very short, because I
know that the ordinary reader does not like to be troubled
with voluminous financial statistics. Briefly, then, the
emancipated serf had to pay three kinds of direct taxation :
Imperial to the Central Government, local to the Zemstvo,
and Communal to the Mir and the Volost; and besides these
he had to pay a yearly sum for the redemption of the land
allotment which he received at the time of the Emancipation.
Taken together, these sums formed a heavy burden, but for
ten or twelve years they were paid pretty regularly. Then
began to appear symptoms of distress, especially in the
provinces with a poor soil, and in 1872 the Government sent
into the provinces a Commission of Inquiry, in which I
had the privilege of taking part unofBcially. The inquiry
showed that something ought to be done, but at that moment
the authorities were so busy with administrative reforms and
with trying to develop industry and commerce that they had
little time for studying and improving the economic position
of the silent, long-sufTering muzhik.

It was not till nearly ten years later, when the Govern-
ment began to feel the pinch of the ever-increasing arrears,
that it recognised the necessity for relieving the rural popu-
lation. For this purpose it abolished the salt-tax and the
poll-tax and repeatedly lessened the burden of the redemp-
tion payments until they were completely remitted in 1906-7.
Further relief was afforded in 1899 by an important reform
in the mode of collecting the direct taxes. From the police,
who often ruined peasant householders by applying distraint
indiscriminately, the collection of taxes was transferred to
special authorities who took into consideration the temporary
pecuniary embarrassments of the taxpayers. Another benefit
conferred on the peasantry by this reform was that the
individual members of the Commune ceased to be responsible
for the fiscal obligations of the Commune as a whole.

After these alleviations had been granted the annual total

548 RUSSIA

demanded from the peasantry directly was 173 million
roubles, and the average annual sum to be paid by each
peasant household varied, according to the locality, from
11^2 to 20 roubles (23s. to 40s.)- In addition to this
annuity there was a heavy burden of accumulated arrears,
especially in the central and eastern provinces, which
amounted in 1899 to 143 millions. Of the indirect taxes I
can say nothing definite, because it is impossible to calculate,
even approximately, the share of them which falls on the
rural population, but they must not be left out of account.
During the ten years of M. Witte's term of office as Minister
of Finance (1893-1903) the revenue of the Imperial Treasury
was nearly doubled, and though the increase was due partly
to improvements in the financial administration, we can
hardly believe that the peasantry did not in some measure
contribute to it. In any case, it was very difficult, if not
impossible, for them, under these conditions, to improve
their economic position. On that point all Russian econo-
mists are agreed. One of the most competent and sober-
minded authorities, the late M. Schwanebach, calculated
that the head of a peasant household, after deducting the
grain required to feed his family, had to pay into the Imperial
Treasury, according to the district in which he resided, from
25 to 100 per cent, of his agricultural revenue. If that
calculation was even approximately correct, we must con-
clude that further financial reforms were urgently required,
especially in those provinces where the population live
exclusively by agriculture.

Since that time the peasant's burden has been somewhat
lessened, especially by the remission of the redemption dues,
which I have already mentioned, but it is still far too heavy
in proportion to his slender resources. With good harvests
he can balance his budget and avoid arrears of taxation,
but as soon as the harvest is below the average he gets
into difficulties; and, as he has too often little or no reserve
to fall Hack upon, a second bad harvest may bring him to
the verge of bankruptcy.

Heavy as the burden of taxation undoubtedly is, it might
perhaps be borne without very serious inconvenience if the
peasant families could utilise productively all their time and

WASTED ENERGY 549

strength. Unfortunately, in the existing economic organi-
sation a great deal of their time and energy is necessarily
wasted. Their economic life was radically dislocated by the
Emancipation, and they have not yet succeeded in reorganis-
ing it according to the new conditions.

In the time of serfage an estate formed, from the economic
point of view, a co-operative agricultural association, under
a manager who possessed unlimited authority, and some-
times abused it, but who was generally wordly-wise enough
to understand that the prosperity of the whole required the
prosperity of the component parts. By the abolition of
serfage the association was dissolved and liquidated, and
the strong, compact whole fell into a heap of independent
units, with separate and often mutually hostile interests.
Some of the disadvantages of this change for the peasantry
I have already enumerated above. The most important I
have now to mention. In virtue of the Emancipation Law
each family received an amount of land which tempted it
to continue farming on its own account, but which did not
enable it to earn a living and pay its rates and taxes. The
peasant thus became a kind of amphibious creature — half
farmer and half something else— cultivating his allotment
for a portion of his daily bread, and obliged to have some
other occupation wherewith to cover the inevitable deficit
in his domestic budget. If he was fortunate enough to find
near his home a bit of land to be let at a reasonable rent,
he might cultivate it in addition to his own, and thereby
gain a livelihood; but if he had not the good luck to find
such a piece of land in the immediate neighbourhood, he
had to look for some subsidiary occupation in which to
employ his leisure time; and where was such occupation
to be found in an ordinary Russian village? In former
years he might have employed himself perhaps in carting
the proprietor's grain to distant markets or still more distant
seaports, but that means of making a little money has been
destroyed by the extension of railways. Practically, then,
he is now obliged to choose between two alternatives : either
to farm his allotment and spend a great part of the year in
idleness, or to leave the cultivation of his allotment to his
wife and children and to seek employment elsewhere — often

550 RUSSIA

at such a distance that his earnings hardly cover the expenses
of the journey. In either case much time and energy are
wasted.

The evil results of this state of things were intensified
by another change which was brought about by the
Emancipation. In the time of serfage the peasant families,
as I have already remarked, were usually very large. They
remained undivided, partly from the influence of patriarchal
conceptions, but chiefly because the proprietors, recognising
the advantage of large units, prevented them from breaking
up. As soon as the proprietor's authority was removed, the
process of disintegration began and spread rapidly. Every-
one wished to be independent, and in a very short time nearly
every able-bodied married peasant had a house of his own.
The economic consequences were disastrous. A large amount
of money had to be expended in constructing new houses
and farmsteadings; and the old habit of one male member
remaining at home to cultivate the land allotment with the
female members of the family whilst the others went to earn
wages elsewhere had to be abandoned. Many large families,
which had been prosperous and comfortable — rich according
to peasant conceptions — dissolved into three or four small
ones, all on the brink of pauperism.

The last cause of peasant impoverishment that I have
to mention is perhaps the most important of all : I mean
the natural increase of population without a corresponding
increase in the means of subsistence. Since the Emancipa-
tion in 1861 the population has nearly doubled, whilst the
amount of Communal land, in the great majority of Com-
munes, has remained the same. It is not surprising,
therefore, that when talking with peasants about their actual
condition, one constantly hears the despairing cry, " Zemli
malo! " ("There is not enough land"); and one notices that
those who look a little ahead ask anxiously: "What is to
become of our children? Already the Communal allotment
is too small for our wants, and the land outside is doubling
and trebling in price! What will it be in the future?"

Must we, then, accept for Russia the Malthus doctrine
that population increases more rapidly than the means of
subsistence, and that starvation can be avoided only by

MIGRATION 551

plague, pestilence, war, and other destructive forces? I
think not. It is quite true that, if the amount of land
actually possessed by the peasantry and the present system
of cultivating it remained unchanged, semi-starvation would
be the inevitable result within a comparatively short space
of time ; but the danger can be averted, and the proper
remedies are not far to seek. If Russia is suffering from
over-population it must be her own fault, for she is, with
the exception of Norway and Sweden, the most thinly
populated country in Europe, and she has more than her
share of fertile soil and mineral resources.

A glance at the map showing the density of popu-
lation in the various provinces suggests an obvious remedy,
and I am happy to say it is already being applied.
The population of the congested districts of the centre is
gradually spreading out, like a drop of oil on a sheet of
soft paper, towards the more thinly populated regions of the
south and east. In this way the vast region containing
millions of acres which lies to the north of the Black Sea,
the Caucasus, the Caspian, and Central Asia is yearly
becoming more densely peopled, and agriculture is steadily
encroaching on the pastoral area. Breeders of sheep and
cattle, who formerly lived and throve in the western portion
of that great expanse, are being pushed eastwards by the
rapid increase in the value of land, and their place is being
taken by enterprising tillers of the soil. Farther north
another stream of emigration is flowing into Central Siberia.
It do^s not flow so rapidly, because in that part of the
Empire, unlike the bare, fertile Steppes of the south, the
land has to be cleared before the seed can be sown, and
the pioneer colonists have to work hard for a year or two
before they get any return for their labour; but the Govern-
ment and private societies come to their assistance, and for
the last twenty years their numbers have been steadily
increasing. In 1886 the annual contingent was only about
25,000 souls, whereas in igo8 it reached the high figure of
626,000. Roughly speaking, we may say that during the
last fifteen years more than three and a half million peasants
from European Russia have been successfully settled in the
Asiatic provinces.

552 RUSSIA

Even in the European portion of the Empire milHons of
acres which are at present unproductive might be utilised.
Anyone who has travelled by rail from Berlin to St. Peters-
burg must have noticed how the landscape suddenly changes
its character as soon as he has crossed the frontier. Leaving
a prosperous agricultural country, he traverses for many
weary hours a region in which there is hardly a sign of
human habitation, though the soil and climate of that region
resemble closely the soil and climate of East Prussia. The
difference lies in the amount of labour and capital expended.
According to official statistics the area of European Russia
contains, roughly speaking, 406 millions of dessyatins, of
which 78 millions, or 19 per cent., are classified as neudob-
niya, unfit for cultivation ; 157 millions, or 39 per cent., as
forest; 106 millions, or 26 per cent., as arable land; and
65 millions, or 16 per cent., as pasturage. Thus the arable
and pasture land compose only 42 per cent., or considerably
less than half, of the area. Of the land classed as unfit for
cultivation — 19 per cent, of the whole — a large portion,
including the perennially frozen tundri of the far north,
must ever remain unproductive ; but in latitudes with a
milder climate this category of land is for the most part
ordinary morass or swamp, which can be transformed into
pasturage, or even into arable land, by drainage at a
moderate cost. As a proof of this statement I may cite the
draining of the great Pinsk swamps, which was begun by
the Government in 1872. If we may trust an official report
of the progress of the works in 1897, ^^ ^^^^ of 2,855,000
dessyatins (more than seven and a half million acres) had
been drained at an average cost of about three shillings an
acre, and the price of land had risen from four to twenty-
eight roubles per dessyatin.

Reclamation of marshes might be undertaken elsewhere
on a much more moderate scale. The observant traveller on
the highways and byways of the northern provinces must
have noticed on the banks of almost every stream many acres
of marshy land producing merely reeds or coarse, rank grass
that no well-brought-up animal would look at. With a little
elementary knowledge of engineering and the expenditure
of a moderate amount of manual labour these marshes might

LAND RECLAMATION 553

be converted into excellent pasture or even into highly pro-
ductive kitchen gardens; but the peasants have not yet
learned to take advantage of such opportunities, and the
reformers, who generally deal only in large projects and
scientific panaceas for the cure of impoverishment, consider
such trifles as unworthy of their attention. The Scotch
proverb that if the pennies be well looked after, the pounds
will look after themselves, contains a bit of homely wisdom
unknown to the Russian educated classes.

After the morasses, swamps, and marshes come the
forests, constituting 39 per cent, of the whole area, and the
question naturally arises whether some portions of them
might not be advantageously transformed into pasturage or
arable land. In the south and east they have been diminished
to such an extent as to affect the climate injuriously, so that
the forest area in that part of the country ought to be
increased rather than lessened; but in the northern provinces
the vast expanses of forest, covering millions of acres, might
perhaps be curtailed with advantage. The proprietors prefer,
however, to keep them in their present condition because
they give a modest revenue without any expenditure of
capital.

Therein lies the great obstacle to land reclamation in
Russia : it requires an outlay of capital, and capital is
extremely scarce in the Empire of the Tsars. Until it
becomes more plentiful, the area of arable land and pasturage
is not likely to be largely increased, and other means of
checking the impoverishment of the peasantry must be
adopted.

A less expensive means is suggested by the statistics of
foreign trade. In the preceding chapter we have seen that
from i860 to 1900 the average annual export of grain rose
steadily from under i}4 millions to over 6 millions of tons. It
is evident, therefore, that in the food supply, so far from there
being a deficiency, there has been a large and constantly
increasing surplus. If the peasantry have been on short
rations, it is not because the quantity of food produced has
fallen short of the requirements of the population, but
because it has been unequally distributed. The truth is
that the large landed proprietors produce more and the

554 RUSSIA!

peasants less than they consume, and it has naturally
occurred to many people that the present state of things
might be improved if a portion of the arable land passed,
without any socialistic, revolutionary measures, from the one
class to the other.

This operation, as we have seen above, has already begun
and is proceeding rapidly with the aid of the Peasant Land-
Bank, but the process is too slow to meet all the require-
ments of the situation. Some additional expedient, there-
fore, must be found, and we naturally look for it in the
experience of older countries with a denser population.

In the more densely populated countries of Western
Europe a safety valve for the inordinate increase of the rural
population has been provided by the development of manu-
facturing industry. High wages and the attractions of town
life draw the rural population to the industrial centres, and
the movement has increased to such an extent that already
complaints are heard of the rural districts becoming
depopulated. In Russia a similar movement is taking place
on a smaller scale. During the last fifty years, under the
fostering influence of a protective tariff, the manufacturing
industry has made gigantic strides, as we shall see in a
future chapter, and it has already absorbed about two
millions of the redundant hands in the villages ; but it cannot
keep pace with the rapidly increasing surplus. Two millions
constitute but a small factor in a population of i6o millions.
The great mass of the people has always been, and must
long continue to be, purely agricultural ; and it is to their
fields that they must look for the means of subsistence. If
the fields do not supply enough for their support under the
existing primitive methods of cultivation better methods
must be adopted. To use a favourite semi-scientitic phrase,
Russia has now reached the point in her economic develop-
ment at which she must abandon her traditional extensive
system of agriculture and adopt a more intensive system.
So far all competent authorities are agreed. But how is
the transition, which requires technical knowledge, a spirit
of enterprise, an enormous capital, and a dozen other things
which the peasantry do not at present possess, to be effected ?
Here begin the well-marked differences of opinion.

NEW AGRICULTURAL METHODS 555

Hitherto the momentous problem luis been dealt with
chiefly by the theorists and doctrinaires, who delight in
radical solutions by means of panaceas, and who have little
taste for detailed local investigation and gradual improve-
ment. 1 do not refer merely to the so-called "Saviours of
the Fatherland " {Spasiteli Otetcheslva)^ well-meaning cranks
and visionaries who discover ingenious devices for making
their native country at once prosperous and happy. I speak
of the great majority of reasonable, educated men who devote
some attention to the problem. Their favourite method of
dealing with it is this : The intensive system of agriculture
requires scientific knowledge and a higher level of intellectual
culture. What has to be done, therefore, is to create agricul-
tural colleges supplied with all the newest appliances of
agronomic research and to educate the peasantry to such an
extent that they may be able to use the means which science
recommends.

For many years this doctrine prevailed in the Press,
among the reading public, and even in the official world.
The Government was accordingly urged to improve and
multiply the agronomic colleges and the schools of all grades
and descriptions. Learned dissertations were published on
the chemical constitution of the various soils, the action
of the atmosphere on the different ingredients, the necessity
of making careful meteorological observations, and numerous
other topics of a similar kind; and would-be reformers who
had no taste for such highly technical researches could
console themselves with the idea that they were advancing
the vital interests of the country by discussing the relative
merits of Communal and personal land tenure — deciding
generally in favour of the former as more in accordance
with the peculiarities of Russian, as contrasted with West-
European, principles of economic and social development.

While much valuable time and energy were thus being
expended to little purpose, on the assumption that the old
system might be left untouched until the preparations for a
radical solution had been completed, disagreeable facts which
could not be entirely overlooked gradually produced in
influential quarters the conviction that the question was
much more urgent than was commonly supposed. A

556 RUSSIA

sensitive chord in the heart of the Government was struck
by the steadily increasing arrears of taxation, and spasmodic
attempts have since been made to cure the evil. In the local
administration, too, the urgency of the question has come
to be recognised, and measures are now being taken by the
Zemstvo to help the peasantry in making gradually the tran-
sition to that higher system of agriculture which is the only
means of permanently saving them from starvation. For
this purpose, in many districts, well-trained specialists have
been appointed to study the local conditions and to recom-
mend to the villagers such simple improvements as are
within their means. These improvements may be classified
under the following heads : —

(i) Increase of the cereal crops by better seed and im-
proved implements.

(2) Change in the rotation of crops by the introduction
of certain grasses and roots which improve the soil and
supply food for live stock.

(3) Improvement and increase of live stock, so as to get
more labour-power, more manure, more dairy produce, and
more meat.

(4) Increased cultivation of vegetables and fruit.

With these objects in view the Zemstvo is establishing
depots, in which improved implements and better seed are
sold at moderate prices, and the payments may be made in
instalments, so that even the poorer members of the com-
munity can take advantage of the facilities offered. Bulls
and stallions are kept at central points for the purpose of
improving the breed of cattle and horses, and the good
results are already visible. Elementary instruction in farm-
ing and gardening is being introduced into the primary
schools. In some districts the exertions of the Zemstvo are
supplemented by small agricultural societies, mutual credit
associations, and village banks, and these are to some extent
assisted by the Central Government. But the beneficent
action in this direction is not all official. Many proprietors
deserve great praise for the good influence which they
exercise on the peasants of their neighbourhood and the
assistance they give them ; and it must be admitted that their
patience is often sorely tried, for the peasants have the

INDICATIONS OF PROGRESS 557

obstinacy of ignorance, and possess other qualities which
are not sympathetic. I icnow one excellent proprietor who
began his civilising efforts by giving to the Mir of the
nearest village an iron plough as a model and a fine pedigree
ram as a producer, and who found, on returning from a
tour abroad, that during his absence the plough had been
sold for vodka, and the pedigree ram had been eaten before
it had time to produce any descendants ! In spite of this he
continues his efforts, and not altogether without success.

It need hardly be said that the progress of the peasantry
is not so rapid as could be wished. The muzhik is naturally
conservative, and is ever inclined to regard novelties with
suspicion. Even when he is half convinced of the utility
of some change, he has still to think about it for a long
time and talk it over again and again with his friends and
neighbours, and this preparatory stage of progress may last
for years. Unless he happens to be a man of unusual
intelligence and energy, it is only when he sees with his
own eyes that some humble individual of his own condition
in life has actually gained by abandoning the old routine
and taking to new courses, that he makes up his mind to
take the plunge himself. Still, he is beginning to jog on.
E pur si miiove! A spirit of progress is beginning to move
on the face of the long-stagnant waters, and progress once
begun is pretty sure to continue with increasing rapidity.
With starvation hovering in the rear, even the most con-
servative are not likely to stop or turn back.

CHAPTER XXKII

THE ZEMSTVO AND LOCAL SELF-GOVERNMENT

After the emancipation of the serfs, the reform most
urgently required was the improvement of the provincial
administration. In the time of serfage the Emperor Nicholas,
referring to the landed proprietors, used to say in a jocular
tone that he had in his Empire 50,000 most zealous and
efficient hereditary police-masters. By the Emancipation
Law the authority of these hereditary police-masters was for
ever abolished, and it became urgently necessary to put
something else in its place. Peasant self-government was
accordingly organised on the basis of the rural Commune ;
but it fell far short of meeting the requirements of the
situation. Its largest unit was the Volost, which comprised
merely a few contiguous Communes, and its action was
confined exclusively to the peasantry. Evidently it was
necessary to create a larger administrative unit, in
which the interests of all classes of the population could
be attended to, and for this purpose Alexander II., in
November, 1859, more than a year before the Emancipation
Edict, instructed a special Commission to prepare a project
for giving to the inefficient, dislocated provincial adminis-
tration greater unity and independence. The project was
duly prepared, and after being discussed in the Council of
State it received the Imperial sanction in January, 1864.
It was supposed to give, in the words of an explanatory
memorandum, "as far as possible a complete and logical
development to the principle of local self-government."
Thus was created the Zemstvo,* which has attracted con-
siderable attention in Western Europe.

My personal acquaintance with this interesting institution

* The term Zemstvo is derived from the word Zemlyd, mcanincf Innd, nnd
mie;ht be translated, if a bnrhnrism were permissible, by Land-dom, on the
annlof^y of Kingdom, Dukedom, etc.

558

INVESTIGATIONS 559

dates from 1870. Very soon after my arrival at Novgorod
in that year, I made the acquaintance of a gentleman who
was described to me as "the president of the provincial
Zemstvo bureau," and finding him amiable and communi-
cative, I suggested that he might give me some information
regarding the institution of which he was the chief local
representative. With the utmost readiness he proposed to
be my Mentor, introduced me to his colleagues, and invited
me to come and see him at his office as often as I felt inclined.
Of this invitation I made abundant use. At first my visits
were discreetly few and short, but when I found that my
new friend and his colleagues really wished to instruct me
in all the details of Zemstvo administration, and had arranged
a special table in the president's room for my convenience,
I became a regular attendant, and spent daily several hours
in the bureau, studying the current affairs, and noting down
the interesting bits of statistical and other information w^hich
came before the members, as if I had been one of their
number. When they went to inspect the hospital, the lunatic
asylum, the seminary for the preparation of village school-
masters, or any other Zemstvo institution, they invariably
invited me to accompany them, and made no attempt to
conceal from me any defects which they happened to
discover.

I mention all this because it illustrates the readiness of
most Russians to afford every possible facility to a foreigner
who wishes seriously to study their country. They believe
that they have long been misunderstood and systematically
calumniated by foreigners, and they are extremely desirous
that the prevalent misconceptions regarding their country
should be removed. It must be said to their honour that
they have little or none of that false patriotism which seeks
to conceal national defects; and in judging themselves and
their institutions they are inclined to be over-severe rather
than unduly lenient. In the time of Nicholas I. those who
desired to stand well with the Government proclaimed loudly
that they lived in the happiest and best-governed country of
the world, but this shallow official optimism has long since
gone out of fashion. During all the years which I spent in
Russia I found everywhere the utmost readiness to assist

56o RUSSIA

me in my investigations, and very rarely noticed that habit
of "throwing dust in the eyes of foreigners" of which some
writers have spoken so much.

The Zemstvo is a kind of local administration which
supplements the action of the rural Communes, and takes
cognisance of those higher public wants which individual
Communes cannot possibly satisfy. Its principal duties are
to keep the roads and bridges in proper repair, to provide
means of conveyance for the rural police and other officials,
to look after primary education and sanitary affairs, to watch
the state of the crops and take measures against approaching
famine, and, in short, to undertake, within certain clearly
defined limits, whatever seems likely to increase the material
and moral well-being of the population. In form the institu-
tion is Parliamentary — that is to say, it consists of an
assembly of deputies which meets regularly once a year, and
of a permanent executive bureau elected by the Assembly
from among its members. If the Assembly be regarded as
a local Parliament, the bureau corresponds to the Cabinet.
In accordance with this analogy my friend the president was
sometimes jocularly termed the Prime Minister. Once every
three years the deputies are elected in certain fixed propor-
tions by the landed proprietors, the rural Communes, and
the municipal corporations. Every province {guberniya) and
each of the districts (uyesdy) into which the province is sub-
divided has such an assembly and such a bureau.

Not long after my arrival in Novgorod I had the oppor-
tunity of being present at a District Assembly. In the
ballroom of the "Club de la Noblesse" I found thirty or
forty men seated round a long table covered with green
cloth. Before each member lay sheets of paper for the
purpose of taking notes, and before the president — the
Marshal of Noblesse for the district — stood a small hand-
bell, which he rang vigorously at the commencement of the
proceedings and on all occasions when he wished to obtain
silence. To the right and left of the president sat the
members of the executive (uprdva), armed with piles of
written and printed documents, from which they read long
and tedious extracts, till the majority of the audience took
to yawning and one or two of the members positively went

DISTRICT ASSEMBLIES 561

to sleep. At the close of each of these reports the president
rang his bell — presumably for the purpose of awakeninj^ the
sleepers — and inquired whether anyone had remarks to make
on what had just been read. Generally someone had remarks
to make, and not unfrequently a discussion ensued. When
any decided difference of opinion appeared, a vote was taken
by handing round a sheet of paper, or by the simpler method
of requesting the Ayes to stand up and the Noes to sit still.

What surprised me most in this assembly was that it
was composed partly of nobles and partly of peasants — the
latter being decidedly in the majority — and that no trace of
antagonism seemed to exist between the two classes. Landed
proprietors and their ci-devant serfs, emancipated only ten
years before, evidently met for the moment on a footing of
equality. The discussions were carried on chiefly by the
nobles, but on more than one occasion peasant members
rose to speak, and their remarks, always clear, practical,
and to the point, were invariably listened to with respectful
attention. Instead of that violent antagonism which might
have been expected, considering the constitution of the
Assembly, there was too much unanimity — a fact indicating
plainly that the majority of the members did not take a very
deep interest in the matters presented to them.

This assembly for the district was held in the month of
September. At the beginning of December the Assembly
for the Province met, and during nearly three weeks I was
daily present at its deliberations. In general character and
mode of procedure it resembled closely the District Assembly.
Its chief peculiarities were that its members were chosen, not
by the primary electors, but by the assemblies of the ten
districts which compose the province, and that it took cog-
nisance merely of those matters which concerned more than
one district. Besides this, the peasant deputies were very
few in number — a fact which somewhat surprised me,
because I was aware that, according to the law, the peasant
members of the District Assemblies were eligible, like those
of the other classes. The explanation is that the District
Assemblies choose their most active members to represent
them in the Provincial Assemblies, and consequently the
choice generally falls on landed proprietors. To this arrange-

562 RUSSIA

ment the peasants make no objection, for attendance at the
Provincial Assemblies demands a considerable pecuniary
outlay, and payment of the deputies is expressly prohibited
by law.

To give the reader an idea of the elements composing
this assembly, let me introduce him to a few of the members.
A considerable section of them may be described in a single
sentence. They are commonplace men, who have spent part
of their youth in the public service as officers in the army,
or officials in the civil administration, and have since retired
to their estates, where they gain a modest competence by
farming. Some of them add to their agricultural revenues
by acting as justices of the peace.* A few may be described
more particularly.

You see there, for instance, that fine-looking old general
in uniform, with the St. George's Cross at his button-hole
— an order given only for bravery in the field. That is
Prince Suvorov, a grandson of the famous field-marshal who
won victories for the Empress Catherine. He has filled
high posts in the Administration without ever tarnishing
his name by a dishonest or dishonourable action, and has
spent a great part of his life at Court without ceasing to be
frank, generous, and truthful. Though he has no intimate
knowledge of current affairs, and sometimes gives way a
little to drowsiness, his sympathies in disputed points are
always on the right side, and when he gets to his feet
he always speaks in a clear, soldier-like fashion.

The tall gaunt man, somewhat over middle age, who sits
a little to the left is Prince Vassiltchikov. He, too, has an
historical name, but he cherishes above all things personal
independence, and has consequently always kept aloof from
the Imperial Administration and the Court. The leisure
thus acquired he has devoted to study, and he has produced
several valuable works on political and social science. An
enthusiastic but at the same time cool-headed abolitionist
at the time of the Emancipation, he has since constantly
striven to ameliorate the condition of the peasantry by
advocating the spread of primary education, the establish-

* That is no longer possible. The institution of justices elected and paid
by the Zemstvo was abolished in 1889.

COMPOSITION OF ASSEMBLY 563

ment of rural credit associations in the villages, the preserva-
tion of the Communal institutions, and numerous important
reforms in the financial system. Both of these gentlemen,
it is said, generously gave to their peasants more land than
they were obliged to give by the Emancipation Law. In
the Assembly Prince Vassiltchikov speaks frequently, and
ahvavs commands attention ; and of all important committees
he is a leading member. Though a warm defender of the
Zemstvo institutions, he thinks that their activity ought to
be confined to a comparatively narrow field, and he thereby
differs from some of his colleagues, who are ready to embark
in hazardous, not to say fanciful, schemes for developing
the natural resources of the province. His neighbour, Mr.

P , is one of the ablest and most energetic members of

the Assembly. He is president of the executive bureau in
one of the districts, where he has founded many primary
schools and created several rural credit associations on the
model of those which bear the name of Schultze Delitsch

in Germany. Mr. S , who sits beside him, was for some

years an arbiter between the proprietors and emancipated
serfs, then a member of the Provincial Executive Bureau,
and is now director of a bank in St. Petersburg.

To the right and left of the president — who is Marshal
of Noblesse for the province — sit the members of the bureau.
The gentleman who reads the long reports is my friend "the
Prime Minister," who began life as a cavalry officer, and
after a few years of military service retired to his estate;
he is an intelligent, able administrator, and a man of con-
siderable literary culture. His colleague, who assists him
in reading the reports, is a merchant, and director of the
municipal bank. The next member is also a merchant, and
in some respects the most remarkable man in the room.
Though born a serf, he is already, at middle age, an import-
ant personage in the Russian commercial world. Rumour
says that he laid the foundation of his fortune by one day
purchasing a copper cauldron in a village through which
he was passing on his way to St. Petersburg, where he
hoped to gain a little money by the sale of some calves.
In the course of a few years he amassed an enormous fortune ;
but cautious people think that he is too fond of hazardous

564 RUSSIA

speculations, and prophesy that he will end life as poor as
he began it.

All these men belong to what may be called the party
of progress, which anxiously supports all proposals recog-
nised as "liberal," and especially all measures likely to
improve the condition of the peasantry. Their chief oppo-
nent is that little man with close-cropped, bullet-shaped head
and small piercing eyes, who may be called the Leader of
the Opposition. He condemns many of the proposed
schemes, on the ground that the province is already over-
taxed, and that the expenditure ought to be reduced to the
smallest possible figure. In the District Assembly he
preaches this doctrine with considerable success, for there
the peasantry form the majority, and he knows how to use
that terse, homely language, interspersed with proverbs,
which has far more influence on the rustic mind than
scientific principles and logical reasoning ; but here, in the
Provincial Assembly, his following composes only a respect-
able minority, and he confines himself to a policy of
obstruction.

The Zemstvo of Novgorod had at that time the reputation
of being one of the most enlightened and energetic, and I
must say that the proceedings were conducted in a business-
like, satisfactory way. The reports were carefully considered,
and each article of the annual budget was submitted to
minute scrutiny and criticism. In several of the provinces
which I afterwards visited I found that affairs were con-
ducted in a very difTerent fashion : quorums were formed
with extreme difificulty, and the proceedings, when they at
last commenced, were treated as mere formalities and
despatched as speedily as possible. The character of the
Assembly depends, of course, on the amount of interest
taken in local public afTairs. In some districts this interest
is considerable; in others it is very near zero.

The birth of this new institution in 1864 was hailed with
enthusiasm, and produced great expectations. At that time
a large section of the Russian educated classes had a simple,
convenient criterion for institutions of all kinds. They
assumed as a self-evident axiom that the excellence of an
institution must always be in proportion to its "liberal"

GREAT EXPECTATIONS 565

and democratic character. The question as to how far it
migiit be appropriate to the existini^ conditions and to the
character of the people, and as to whether it might not,
though admirable in itself, be too expensive for the work
to be performed, was little thought of. Any organisation
which rested on "the elective principle," and provided an
arena for free public discussion, was sure to be well received,
and these conditions were fultilled by the Zemstvo.

The expectations excited were of various kinds. People
who thought more of political than economic progress saw
in the Zemstvo the basis of boundless popular liberty.
Prince Vassiltchikov, for example, though naturally of a
phlegmatic temperament, became for a moment enthusiastic,
and penned the following words: "With a daring un-
paralleled in the chronicles of the world, we have entered
on the career of public life." If local self-government in
England had, in spite of its aristocratic character, created
and preserved political liberty, as had been proved by several
learned Germans, what might be expected from institutions
so much more liberal and democratic? In England there
had never been county parliaments, and the local administra-
tion had always been in the hands of the great landowners;
whilst in Russia every district would have its elective
assembly, in which the peasant would be on a level with
the richest landed proprietors. People who were accustomed
to think of social rather than political progress expected that
they would soon see the country provided with good roads,
safe bridges, numerous village schools, well-appointed
hospitals, and all the other requisites of civilisation. Agri-
culture would become more scientific, trade and industry
would be rapidly developed, and the material, intellectual,
and moral condition of the peasantry would be enormously
improved. The listless apathy of provincial life and the
hereditary indiderence to local public affairs were now, it
was thought, about to be dispelled ; and in view of this
change, patriotic mothers took their children to the annual
assemblies in order to accustom them from their early years
to take an interest in the public welfare.

It is hardly necessary to say that these inordinate expec-
tations were not realised. From the very beginning tliere

566 RUSSIA

had been a misunderstanding regarding the character and
functions of the new institutions. During the short period
of universal entliusiasm for reform, the great officials had
used incautiously some of the vague liberal phrases then in
fashion, but they never seriously intended to confer on the
child which they were bringing into the world a share in
the general government of the country ; and the rapid
evaporation of their sentimental liberalism, which began as
soon as they undertook practical reforms, made them less
and less conciliatory. When the vigorous young child,
therefore, showed a natural desire to go beyond the humble
functions accorded to it, the stern parents proceeded to snub
it and put it into its proper place. The first reprimand was
administered publicly in the capital. The St. Petersburg
Provincial Assembly, having shown a desire to play a
political part, was promptly closed by the Minister of the
Interior, and some of the members were exiled for a time
to their homes in the country.

This warning produced merely a momentary effect. As
the functions of the Imperial Administration and of the
Zemstvo had never been clearly defined, and as each was
inclined to extend the sphere of its activity, friction became
frequent. The Zemstvo had the right, for example, to co-
operate in the development of education, but as soon as it
organised primary schools and seminaries it came into
contact with the Ministry of Public Instruction. In other
departments similar conflicts occurred, and the tchinovniks
came to suspect that the Zemstvo had the ambition to play
the part of a parliamentary Opposition. This suspicion
found formal expression in at least one secret official docu-
ment, in which the writer declares that "the Opposition has
built itself firmly a nest in die Zemstvo." Now, if we mean
to be just to both parties in this little family quarrel, we
must admit that the Zemstvo, as I shall explain in a future
chapter, had ambitions of that kind, and it would have been
better perhaps for the country at the present moment if it
had been able to realise them. But this is a West-European
idea. In Russia there is, and can be, no such thing as
"His Majesty's Opposition." To the Russian official mind
the three words seem to contain a logical contradiction.

HOSTILITY OF THE BUREAUCRACY 567

Opposition to officials, even within the Hmits of the law,
is equivalent to opposition to the Autocratic Power, of which
they are the incarnate emanations ; and opposition to what
they consider the interests of autocracy comes within
measurable distance of high treason. It was considered
necessary, therefore, to curb and suppress the ambitious
tendencies of the wayward child, and accordingly it was
placed more and more under the tutelage of the provincial
Governors.

To show how the change was effected, let me give an
illustration. In the older arrangements the Governor could
suspend the action of the Zemstvo only on the ground of
its being illegal or ultra vires, and when there was an
irreconcilable difference of opinion between the two parties,
the question was decided judicially by the Senate; under
the more recent arrangements his Excellency can interpose
his veto whenever he considers that a decision, though it
may be perfectly legal, is not conducive to the public good,
and differences of opinion are referred, not to the Senate,
but to the Minister of the Interior, who is always naturally
disposed to support the views of his subordinate.

In order to put an end to all this insubordination Count
Tolstoy, the reactionary Minister of the Interior in the reign
of Alexander III., prepared a scheme of reorganisation in
accordance with his anti-liberal views, but he died before
he could carry it out, and a much milder reorganisation was
adopted in the law of June 24th, 1890. The principal changes
introduced by that law were that the number of delegates in
the Assemblies was reduced by about a fourth, and the
relative strength of the different social classes was altered.
Under the old law the Noblesse had about 42 per cent, and
the peasantry about 38 per cent, of the seats; by the new
electoral arrangements the former have 57 per cent, and the
latter about 30. It does not necessarily follow, however,
that the Assemblies are more conservative or more sub-
servient on that account. Liberalism and insubordination
are much more likely to be found among the nobles than
among the peasants.

In addition to all this, as there was an apprehension in
the higher ofificial spheres of St. Petersburg that the oppo-

568 RUSSIA

sition spirit of the Zemstvo might find public expression in
a printed form, the provincial Governors received extensive
rights of preventive censure with regard to the pubUcation
of the minutes of Zemstvo Assemblies and similar documents.

What the bureaucracy, in its zeal to defend the integrity
of the Autocratic Power, feared most of all was combination
for a common purpose on the part of the Zemstvos of
different provinces. It vetoed, therefore, all such combina-
tions, even for statistical purposes ; and when it discovered,
on one occasion, that leading members of the Zemstvo from
all parts of the country were holding private meetings in
Moscow for the ostensible purpose of discussing economic
questions, it ordered them to return to their homes.

Even within its proper sphere, as defined by law, the
Zemstvo has not accomplished what was expected of it.
The country has not been covered with a network of mac-
adamised roads, and the bridges are by no means as safe
as could be desired. Village schools and infirmaries are
still far below the requirements of the population. Little
or nothing has been done for the development of trade or
manufactures ; and the villages remain very much what they
were under the old Administration. Meanwhile the local
rates have been rising with alarming rapidity; and many
people draw from all this the conclusion that the Zemstvo
is a worthless institution which has increased the taxation
without conferring any corresponding benefit on the country.

If we take as our criterion in judging the institution the
exaggerated expectations at first entertained, we may feel
inclined to agree with this conclusion, but this is merely
tantamount to saying that the Zemstvo has performed no
miracles. Russia is much poorer and much less densely
populated than the more advanced nations which she takes
as her model. To suppose that she could at once create
for herself by means of an administrative reform all the
conveniences which those more advanced nations enjoy, was
as absurd as it would be to imagine that a poor man can
at once construct a magnificent palace because he has
received from a wealthy neighbour the necessary architec-
tural plans. Not only years, but generations, must pass
before Russia can assume the appearance of Germany,

THE WORK OF THE ZEMSTVO 569

France, or England. The metamorphosis may be accelerated
or retarded by good government, but it could not be effected
at once, even if the combined wisdom of all the philosophers
and statesmen in Europe were employed in legislating for
the purpose.

The Zemstvo has, however, done much more than the
majority of its critics admit. It fulfils tolerably well,
without scandalous peculation and jobbery, its common-
place, every-day duties, and it has created a new and more
equitable system of rating by which landed proprietors and
house-owners are made to bear their share of the public
burdens. It has done a very great deal to provide medical
aid and primary education for the common people, and it
has improved wonderfully the condition of the hospitals,
lunatic asylums, and other benevolent institutions com-
mitted to its charge. In its efforts to aid the peasantry it
has helped to improve the native breeds of horses and
cattle, and it has created a system of obligatory fire insurance,
together with means for preventing and extinguishing fires
in the villages — a most important matter in a country where
the peasants live in wooden houses and big fires are fear-
fully frequent. After neglecting for a good many years
the essential question as to how the peasants' means of
subsistence can be increased, it has latterly, as I have
mentioned in the foregoing chapter, helped them to obtain
improved agricultural implements and better seed, en-
couraged the formation of small credit associations and
savings banks, and appointed agricultural inspectors to
teach them how thev mav introduce modest improvements
within their limited means.* At the same time, in many
districts it has endeavoured to assist the home industries
which are threatened with annihilation by the big factories,
and whenever measures have been proposed for the benefit

* The amount expended on these objects in iSqy, the latest year for whirh
[ have statistical data, was fiboiit a million and a half of roubles, or, roughly
speaking', ;^i5o,ooo, distributed under the following heads

1. Agricultural tuition ...

2. Experimental stations, museums, etc.

3. Scientific agriculturists

4. Agricultural industries

5. Improving breeds of horses and cattle.

/:4i,ioo

iq.Soo
17,400
26,700
45.300

;^i50.300

570 RUSSIA

of the rural population, such as the lowering of the land-
redemption payments and the creation of the Peasant Land
Bank, it has invariably given them its cordial support.

If you ask a zealous member of the Zemstvo why it
has not done more he will probably tell you that it is
because its activity has been constantly restricted and
counteracted by the Government. The Assemblies were
obliged to accept as presidents the Marshals of Noblesse,
many of whom were men of antiquated ideas and retrograde
principles. At every turn the more enlightened, more active
members found themselves opposed, thwarted, and finally
checkmated by the Imperial officials. When a laudable
attempt was made to tax trade and industry more equitably
the scheme was vetoed, and consequently the mercantile
class, sure of being always taxed at a ridiculously low
maximum, have lost all interest in the proceedings. Even
with regard to the rating of landed and house property a
low limit is imposed by the Government, because it is
afraid that if the rates were raised much it would not be
able to collect the heavy Imperial taxation. The uncon-
trolled publicity which was at first enjoyed by the Assem-
blies was afterwards curtailed by the bureaucracy. Under
such restrictions all free, vigorous action, it was said,
became impossible, and the institutions failed to effect what
was reasonably anticipated. All this is true in a certain
sense, but it is not the whole truth. If we examine some
of the definite charges brought against the institution we
shall understand better its real character.

The most common complaint made against it is that it
has enormously increased the rates. On that point there
is no possibility of dispute. At first its expenditure in the
thirty-four provinces in which it existed was under six
millions of roubles; in two years (1868) it had jumped up to
fifteen millions; in 1875 it was nearly twenty-eight millions;
in 1885 over forty-three millions, and at the end of the
century it had attained the respectable figure of 95,800,000
roubles. As each province had the right of taxing itself,
the increase varied greatly in different provinces. In Smo-
lensk, for example, it was only about thirty per cent.,
whilst in Samara it was 436, and in Viatka, where the

INCREASE OF THE RATES 57i

peasant element predominates, no less than 1,262 per cent.!
In order to meet this increase, the rates on land rose from
under ten millions in 1868 to over forty-seven millions in
1900. No wonder that the landowners who find it difficult
to work their estates at a profit should complain !

Though this increase is disagreeable to the ratepayers,
it does not follow that it is excessive. In all countries
rates and local taxation are on the increase, and it is in
the backward countries that they increase most rapidly. In
France, for example, the average yearly increase has been
2.7 per cent., while in Austria it has been 5.59. In Russia
it ought to have been more than in Austria, whereas it has
been, in the provinces with Zemstvo institutions, only about
four per cent. In comparison with the Imperial taxation
the local does not seem excessive when compared with other
countries. In England and Prussia, for instance, the State
taxation as compared with the local is as a hundred to
fifty-four and fifty-one, whilst in Russia it is as a hundred
to sixteen.* A reduction in the taxation as a whole would
certainly contribute to the material welfare of the rural
population, but it is desirable that it should be made in
the Imperial taxes rather than in the rates, because the latter
may be regarded as something akin to productive invest-
ments, whilst the proceeds of the former are expended largely
on objects which have little or nothing to do with the wants
of the common people. In speaking thus I am assuming
that the local expenditure is made judiciously, and this is
a matter on which, I am bound to confess, there is by no
means unanimity of opinion.

Hostile critics can point to facts which are, to say the
least, strange and anomalous. Out of the total of its revenue
the Zemstvo spends about twenty-eight per cent, under the
heading of public health and benevolent institutions; and
about fifteen per cent, for popular education, whilst it
devotes only about six per cent, to roads and bridges, and
until lately it neglected, as T have said above, the means
for improving agriculture and directly increasing the income
of the peasantry.

* These figures are taken from the best available fiuthorities, chiefly
Schwanebach and Scalon, but I am not prepared to guarantee their accuracy.

572 RUSSIA

Before passing sentence with regard to these charges
we must remember the circumstances in which the Zemstvo
was founded and has grown up. In the early times its
members were well-meaning men who had had very little
experience in administration or in practical life of any sort
except the old routine in which they had previously vege-
tated. Most of them had lived enough in the country to
know how much the peasants were in need of medical
assistance of the most elementary kind, and to this matter
they at once turned attention. They tried to organise a
system of doctors, hospital assistants, and dispensaries by
which the peasant would not have to go more than fifteen
or twenty miles to get a wound dressed or to have a con-
sultation or to obtain a simple remedy for an ordinary
ailment. They felt the necessity, too, of thoroughly re-
organising the hospitals and the lunatic asylums, which
were in a very unsatisfactory condition. Plainly enough,
there was here good work to be done. Then there were
the higher aims. In the absence of practical experience
there were enthusiasms and theories. Amongst these was
the enthusiasm for education, and the theory that the want
of it was the chief reason why Russia had remained so
far behind the nations of Western Europe. "Give us
education," it was said, "and all other good things will be
added thereto. Liberate the Russian people from the bonds
of ignorance as you have liberated it from the bonds of
serfage, and its wonderful natural capacities will then be
able to create everything that is required for its material,
intellectual, and moral welfare."

If there was anyone among the leaders who took a
more sober, prosaic view of things he was denounced as
an ignoramus and a reactionary. Willingly or unwillingly,
everybody had to swim with the current. Roads and bridges
were not entirelv neglected, but the efforts in that direction
were confined to the absolutely indispensable. For such
prosaic concerns there was no enthusiasm, and it was
universallv recognised that in Russia the construction of
good roads, as the term is understood in Western Europe,
was far beyond the resources of any Administration. Of
the necessitv for such roads few were conscious. All that

THE ZEMSTVO AND AGRICULTURE 573

was required was to make it possible to get from one place
to another in ordinary weather and ordinary circumstances.
If a stream was too deep to be forded, a bridge iiad to be
built or a ferry had to be established ; and if the approach
to a bridge was so marshy or muddy that vehicles often
sank quite up to the axles and had to be dragged out by
ropes, with the assistance of the neighbouring villagers,
repairs had to be made. Beyond this the efforts of the
Zemstvo rarely went. Its road-building ambition remained
within very modest bounds.

As for the impoverishment of the peasantry and the
necessity for improving their system of agriculture, that
question had hardly appeared above the horizon. It might
have to be dealt with in the future, but there was no need
for hurry. Once the rural population were educated, the
question w^ould solve itself. It was not till about the year
1885 that it was recognised to be more urgent than had
been supposed, and some Zemstvos perceived that the people
might starve before its preparatory education was com-
pleted. Repeated famines pushed the lesson home, and
the landed proprietors found their revenues diminished by
the fall in the price of grain on the European markets.
Thus was raised tiie cry: "Agriculture in Russia is on the
decline ! The country has entered on an acute economic
crisis ! If energetic measures be not taken promptly the
people will soon find themselves confronted by starvation ! "
To this cry of alarm the Zemstvo was neither deaf nor
indifferent. Recognising that the danger could be averted
only by inducing the peasantry to adopt a more intensive
system of agriculture, it directed more and more of its
attention to agricultural improvements, and tried to get
them adopted.* It did. in short, all it could, according
to its lights and within the limits of its moderate resources.
Unfortunately, its available resources were small, for it was
forbidden by the Government to increase the rates, and it
could not well dismiss doctors and close dispensaries and
schools when the people were clamouring for more. So at
least the defenders of the Zemstvo maintain, and they go
so far as to contend that it did well not to grapple with

* Vide supra, pp. 556 and 569.

574 RUSSIA

the impoverishment of the peasantry at an earlier period,
when the real conditions of the problem and the means of
solving it were only very imperfectly known : if it had
begun at that time it would have made great blunders and
spent much money to little purpose.

However this may be, it would certainly be unfair to
condemn the Zemstvo for not being greatly in advance of
public opinion. If it endeavours strenuously to supply all
clearly recognised wants, that is all that can reasonably be
expected of it. What it may be more justly reproached
with is, in my opinion, that it is, to a certain extent,
imbued with that unpractical, pedantic spirit which is
commonly supposed to reside exclusively in the Imperial
Administration. But here again it simply reflects public
opinion and certain intellectual peculiarities of the educated
classes. When a Russian begins to write on a simple
everyday subject, he likes to connect it with general prin-
ciples, philosophy, or history, and begins, perhaps, by
expounding his view's on the intellectual and social develop-
ments of humanity in general and of Russia in particular.
If he has sufficient space at his disposal he may even tell
you something about the early period of Russian history
previous to the Mongol invasion before he gets to the
simple matter in hand. In a previous chapter I have
described the process of "shedding on a subject the light
of science" in Imperial legislation.* In Zemstvo activity
we often meet with pedantry of a similar kind.

If this pedantry were confined to the writing of reports
it might not do much harm. Unfortunately, it often ap-
pears in the sphere of action. To illustrate this I take
an instance from the province of Nizhni-Novgorod. The
Zemstvo of that province received from the central Govern-
ment in 1895 a certain amount of capital for road im-
provement, with instructions from the Ministry of Interior
that it should classify the roads according to their relative
importance and improve them accordingly. Any intelligent
person well acquainted with the region might have made,
in the course of a week or two, the required classification
accurately enough for all practical purposes. Instead of

* Vide supra, pp. 390 and 393.

AN UNPRACTICAL, PEDANTIC SPIRIT 575

adopting this simple procedure, what does the Zemstvo do?
It chooses one of the eleven districts of wliich the province
is composed, and instructs its statistical department to
describe all the villages with a view to determining the
amount of traffic which each will probably contribute to
the general movement, and then it verifies its a priori con-
clusions by means of a detachment of specially selected
"registrars," posted at all the crossways during six days
of each month. These registrars doubtless inscribed every
peasant cart as it passed and made a rough estimate of
the weight of its load. When this complicated and ex-
pensive procedure was completed for one district it was
applied to another; but at the end of three years, before
all the villages of this second district had been described
and the traffic estimated, the energy of the statistical depart-
ment seems to have flagged, and, like a young author
impatient to see himself in print, it published a volume at
the public expense w-hich no one will ever read.

The cost entailed by this procedure is not known, but
we may form some idea of the amount of time required
for the whole operation. It is a simple rule-of-three sum.
If it took three years for the preparatory investigation of
a district and a half, how many years will be required for
eleven districts? More than twenty years! During that
period it would seem that the roads are to remain as they
are, and when the moment comes for improving them it
will be found that, unless the province is condemned to
economic stagnation, the "valuable statistical material"
collected at such an expenditure of time and money is in
great part antiquated and useless. The statistical depart-
ment will be compelled, therefore, like another unfortunate
Sisyphus, to begin the work anew^, and it is difficult to
see how the Zemstvo, unless it becomes a little more prac-
tical, is ever to get out of the vicious circle.

In this case the evil result of pedantry was simply
unnecessary delay, and in the meantime the capital was
accumulating, unless the interest was entirely swallowed up
by the statistical researches; but there are cases in which
the consequences are more serious. Let me take an illus-
tration from the enlightened province of Moscow. It was

576 RUSSIA

observed that certain villages were particularly unhealthy,
and it was pointed out by a local doctor that the inhabitants
were in the habit of using for domestic purposes the water
of ponds which were in a filthy condition. What was
evidently wanted was good wells, and a practical man
would at once have taken measures to have them dug.
Not so the District Zemstvo. It at once transformed the
simple fact into a "question " requiring scientific investiga-
tion. A commission was appointed to study the problem,
and after much deliberation it was decided to make a
geological survey in order to ascertain the depth of good
water throughout the district as a preparatory step towards
preparing a project which will some day be discussed in
the District Assembly, and perhaps in the Assembly of the
province. Whilst all this is being done according to the
strict principles of bureaucratic procedure the unfortunate
peasants, for whose benefit the investigation was undertaken,
continue to drink the muddy water of the dirty ponds.

Incidents of that kind, which I might multiply almost
to any extent remind one of the proverbial formalism of
the Chinese; but between Chinese and Russian pedantry
there is an essential difference. In the Middle Kingdom
the sacrifice of practical considerations proceeds from an
exaggerated veneration of the wisdom of ancestors; in the
Empire of the Tsars it is due to an exaggerated adoration
of the goddess Nauka (Science), and a habit of appealing
to abstract principles and scientific methods when only a
little plain common sense is required.

The absence of this plain common sense sometimes be-
comes painfully evident during the debates of the Assem-
blies, and gives an air of unreality to the proceedings.
On one occasion, I remember, in a District Assembly of
the province of Riazan, when the subject of primary schools
was being discussed, an influential member stood up and
proposed that an obligatory system of education should at
once be introduced throughout the whole district. Strange
to sav, the motion was very nearly carried, though all the
memb(TS present knew — or at least might have known if
they had taken the trouble to inquire — that the actual
number of schools would have to be multiplied twenty-

A COMPARISON 577

fold, and all were agreed that the local rates must not be
increased. To preserve his reputation for liberalism, the
honourable member further proposed that, though the
system should be obligatory, no lines, punishments, or
other means of compulsion should be employed. How a
system could be obligatory without using some means of
compulsion, he did not condescend to explain. To get out
of the difllculty, one of his supporters suggested that the
peasants who did not send their children to school should
be excluded from serving as office-bearers in the Com-
munes; but this proposition merely created a laugh, for
many deputies knew that the peasants would regard this
supposed punishment as a valuable privilege. And whilst
this discussion about the necessity for introducing an ideal
system of obligatory education was being carried on, the
street before the windows of the room was covered with
a stratum of mud nearly two feet in depth ! The other
streets were in a similar condition ; and a large number
of the members always arrived late, because it was almost
impossible to come on foot, and there was only one public
conveyance in the town. Many members had, fortunately,
their private conveyances, but even in these locomotion was
by no means easy. One day, in the principal thorough-
fare, a member had his tarantass overturned, and he himself
was thrown into the mud !

It is hardly fair to compare the Zemstvo with the older
institutions of a similar kind in Western Europe, and
especially with our own local self-government. Our institu-
tions have all grown out of real, practical wants, keenly
felt bv a large section of the population. Cautious and
conservative in all that concerns the public welfare, we regard
change as a necessary evil, and put off the evil day as long as
possible, even when convinced that it must inevitably come.
Thus our administrative wants are always in advance of our
means for satisfying them, and we use vigorously those means
as soon as they are supplied. Our method of supplying the
means, too, is peculiar. Instead of making a tabula rasa,
and beginning from the foundations, we utilise to the utmost
what we happen to possess, and add merely what is absolutely
indispensable. Metaphorically speaking, we repair and

T

578 RUSSIA

extend our political edifice according to the changing neces-
sities of our mode of life, without paying much attention to
abstract principles or the contingencies of the distant future.
The building may be an aesthetic monstrosity, belonging to
no recognised style of architecture, and built in defiance of
the principles laid down by philosophical art critics, but it is
well adapted to our requirements, and every hole and corner
of it is sure to be utilised.

Very dififerent has been the political history of Russia
during the last two centuries. It may be briefly described
as a series of revolutions effected peaceably by the Autocratic
Power. Each young energetic sovereign has attempted to
inaugurate a new epoch by thoroughly remodelling the
Administration according to the most approved foreign
political philosophy of the time. Institutions have not been
allowed to grow spontaneously out of popular wants, but
have been invented by bureaucratic theorists to satisfy wants
of which the people were often still unconscious. The
administrative machine has therefore derived little or no
motive force from the people, and has always been kept in
motion by the unaided energy of the central Government.
Under these circumstances it is not surprising that the
repeated attempts of the Government to lighten the burdens
of centralised administration by creating organs of local
self-government should not have been very successful.

The Zemstvo, it is true, offered better chances of success
than any of its predecessors. A large portion of the nobles
had become alive to the necessity for improving the Ad-
ministration, and the popular interest in public affairs was
much greater than at any former period. Hence there was
at first a period of enthusiasm, during which great prepara-
tions were made for future activity, and not a little was
actually effected. The institution had all the charm of
novelty, and the members felt that the eyes of the public
were upon them. For a time all went well, and the Zemstvo
was so well pleased with its own activity that the satirical
journals compared it to Narcissus admiring his image
reflected in the pool. But when the charm of novelty had
passed and the public turned its attention to other matters,
the spasmodic energy evaporated, and many of the most

THE FUTURE OF THE ZEMSTVO 579

active members looked about for more lucrative employment.
Such employment was easily found, for at that time there
was an unusual demand for able, energetic, educated men.
vSeveral branches of the civil service were being reorganised,
and raihvavs, banks, and joint-stock companies were being
rapidly multiplied. With these the Zemstvo had great diffi-
culty in competing. It could not, like the Imperial service,
offer pensions, decorations, and prospects of promotion, nor
could it pay such large salaries as the commercial and in-
dustrial enterprises. In consequence of all this, the quality
of the executive bureaux deteriorated at the same time as the
public interest in the institution diminished.

To be just to the Zemstvo I must add that, with all its
defects and errors, it is infinitely better than the institutions
which it replaced. If we compare it with previous attempts
to create local self-government, we must admit that the
Russians have made great progress in their political educa-
tion. What its future may be I do not venture to predict.
From its infancy it has had, as we have seen, the ambition
to play a great political part, and in 1904-5, when the
disasters in the Far East were raising a storm of popular
indignation against the Government, its leading representa-
tives in conclave assembled took upon themselves to express
what they considered the national demand for liberal repre-
sentative institutions. The desire, which had previously
from time to time been expressed timidly and vaguely in
loyal addresses to the Tsar, that a central Zemstvo Assembly,
bearing the ancient title of Zemski Sobor, should be con-
voked in the capital and endowed with political functions,
was now put forward by the representatives in plain
unvarnished form. This desire, as we shall see in the
sequel, was not realised, but the impetus given to the reform
movement at that time by the Zemstvo Liberals contributed
largely to the creation of the Duma.

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE REFORM OF THE LAW COURTS

After serf-emancipation and local self-government, the
subject which demanded most urgently the attention of
reformers was the judicial organisation, which had sunk to
a depth of inefficiency and corruption difficult to describe.

In early times the dispensation of justice in Russia, as
in other States of a primitive type, had a thoroughly popular
character. The State was still in its infancy, and the duty
of defending the person, the property, and the rights of in-
dividuals lay, of necessity, chiefly on the individuals them-
selves. Self-help formed the basis of the judicial procedure,
and the State merely assisted the individual to protect his
rights and to avenge himself on those who voluntarily
infringed them.

By the rapid development of the Autocratic Power all
this was changed. Autocracy endeavoured to drive and
regulate the social machine by its own unaided force, and
regarded with suspicion and jealousy all spontaneous action
in the people. The dispensation of justice was accordingly
appropriated by the central authority, absorbed into the
Administration, and withdrawn from public control. Themis
retired from the market-place, shut herself up in a dark room
from which the contending parties and the public gaze were
rigorously excluded, surrounded herself with secretaries and
scribes who put the rights and claims of the litigants into
whatever form they thought proper, weighed according to
her own judgment the arguments presented to her by her
own servants, and came forth from her seclusion merely to
present a ready-made decision or to punish the accused whom
she considered guilty.

This change, though perhaps to some extent necessary,
was attended with very bad consequences. Freed from the
control of the contending parties and of the public, the

580

DEFECTS AND ABUSES 581

courts acted as uncontrolled human nature generally does.
Injustice, extortion, bribery and corruption assumed gigantic
proportions, and against these evils the Government found
no better remedy than a system of complicated formalities
and ingenious checks. The judicial functionaries were
hedged in by a multitude of regulations, so numerous and
complicated that it seemed impossible for even the most
unjust judge to swerve from the path of uprightness. Ex-
plicit, minute rules were laid down for investigating facts
and weighihg evidence; every scrap of evidence and every
legal ground on which the decision was based were com-
mitted to writing; every act in the complicated process of
coming to a decision was made the subject of a formal docu-
ment, and duly entered in various registers; every document
and register had to be signed and countersigned by various
officials who were supposed to control each other; every
decision might be carried to a higher court and made to pass
a second time through the bureaucratic machine. In a word,
the legislature introduced a system of formal written pro-
cedure of the most complicated kind, in the belief that by
this means mistakes and dishonesty would be rendered
impossible.

It may be reasonably doubted whether this system of
judicial administration can anywhere give satisfactory
results. It is everywhere found by experience that in
tribunals from w'hich the healthy atmosphere of publicity is
excluded justice languishes, and a great many ugly plants
shoot up with wonderful vitality. Languid indifference, an
indiscriminating spirit of routine, and unblushing dishonesty
too often creep in through the little chinks and crevices of
the barrier raised against them, and no method of her-
metically sealing these chinks and crevices has yet been
invented. The attempt to close them up by increasing the
formalities and multiplying the courts of appeal and revision
merely adds to the tediousness of the procedure, and with-
draws the whole process still more completely from public
control. At the same time the absence of free discussion
between the contending parties renders the task of the judge
enormously difficult. If the system is to succeed at all, it
must provide a body of able, intelligent, thoroughly trained

582 RUSSIA

jurists, and must place them beyond the reach of Ijribery
^nd other forms of corruption.

In Russia neither of tliese conditions was fulfilled.
Instead of endeavouring to create a body of well-trained
jurists, the Government went farther and farther in the
direction of letting- the judges be chosen for a short period
by popular election from among men who had never received
a juridical education, or a fair education of any kind; whilst
the place of judge was so poorly paid, and stood so low in
public estimation, that the temptations to dishonesty were
difficult to resist.

The practice of choosing the judges by popular election
was an attempt to restore to the courts something of their old
popular character; but it did not succeed, for very obvious
reasons. Popular election in a judicial organisation is useful
only when the courts are public and the procedure simple ;
on the contrary, it is positively prejudicial when the pro-
cedure is in writing and extremely complicated. And so it
proved in Russia. The elected judges, unprepared for their
work, and liable to be changed at short intervals, rarely
acquired a knowledge of law or procedure. They were for
the most part poor, indolent landed proprietors, who did
little more than sign the decisions prepared for them by the
permanent officials. Even when a judge happened to have
some legal knowledge he found small scope for its application,
for he rarely, if ever, examined personally the materials out
of which a decision was to be elaborated. The whole of the
preliminary work, which was in reality the most important,
was performed by minor officials under the direction of the
secretary of the court. In criminal cases, for instance, the
secretary examined the written evidence — all evidence was
taken down in writing — extracted what he considered the
essential points, arranged them as he thought proper, quoted
the laws which ought in his opinion to be applied, put all
this into a report, and read the report to the judges. Of
course the judges, if they had no personal interest in the
decision, accepted the secretary's view of the case. If they
did not, all the preliminary work had to be done anew by
themselves — a task that few judges were able, and still fewer
willing, to perform. Thus the decision lay virtually in the

UNBLUSHING BRIBERY 583

hands of the secretary and the minor officials, and in general
neither the secretary nor the minor officials were fit persons
to have such power.

There is no need to detail here the ingenious expedients
by which they increased their meagre salaries, and how they
generally contrived to extract money from both parties.*
Suffice it to say that in general the chancelleries of the courts
were dens of pettifogging rascality, and the habitual, un-
blushing bribery had a negative as W'ell as a positive effect.
If a person accused of some crime had no money wherewith
to grease the palm of the secretary he might remain in prison
for years without being brought to trial. A well-known
Russian writer once related to me that when visiting a
prison in the province of Nizhni-Novgorod he found among
the inmates undergoing preliminary arrest two peasant
women, who were accused of setting fire to a hayrick to
revenge themselves on a landed proprietor, a crime for which
the legal punishment was from four to eight months' im-
prisonment. One of them had a son of seven years of age,
and the other a son of twelve, both of whom had been born
in the prison, and had lived there ever since among the
criminals. Such a long preliminary arrest caused no sur-
prise or indignation among those who heard of it, because
it was quite a common occurrence. Everyone knew that
bribes were taken not only by the secretary and his scribes,
but also by the judges, who were elected by the local
Noblesse from its own ranks.

With regard to the scale of punishments, notwithstanding
some humanitarian principles in the legislation, they were
very severe, and corporal punishment played amongst them
a disagreeably prominent part. Capital sentences were
abolished as early as 1753-54, but castigation with the knout,
which often ended fatally, continued until 1845, when it was
replaced by flogging in the civil administration, though
retained for the military and for insubordinate convicts. For
the non-privileged classes the knout or the lash supplemented
nearly all punishments for criminal offences. When a man

* Old book-cntalogiies sometimes mention a play beriringf the si!:;;nificant
title, "The Unheard-of Wonder; or, The Honest Secretary" (Neslyhhannoe
Tchudo Hi T chest ny Sckrctdr). I have never seen this curious production, but
I have no doubt that it referred to the peculiarities of the old judicial procedure.

584 RUSSIA

was condemned, for example, to penal servitude, he received
publicly from thirty to one hundred lashes, and was then
branded on the forehead and cheeks with the letters K.A.T.
— the first three letters of kdtorzhnik (convict). If he
appealed he received his lashes all the same, and if his appeal
was rejected by the Senate he received some more castigation
for having troubled unnecessarily the higher judicial
authorities. For the military and for insubordinate convicts
there was a barbarous punishment called Spitsriitcn, to the
extent of 5,000 or 6,000 blows, which often ended in the
death of the unfortunate.

The use of torture in criminal investigations was formally
abolished in 1801, but if we may believe the testimony of a
public prosecutor, it was occasionally used in Moscow as
late as 1850.

The defects and abuses of the old system were so flagrant
that they became known even to the Emperor Nicholas I.,
and caused him momentary indignation, but he never
attempted seriously to root them out. In 1844, for example,
he heard of some gross abuses in a tribunal not far from the
Winter Palace, and ordered an investigation. Baron Korff,
to whom the investigation was entrusted, brought to light
what he called "a yawning abyss of all possible horrors,
which have been accumulating for years," and his Majesty,
after reading the report, wrote upon it with his own hand :
" Unheard-of disgrace ! The carelessness of the authority
immediately concerned is incredible and unpardonable. I
feel ashamed and sad that such disorder could exist almost
under my eyes and remain unknown to me." Unfortunately
the outburst of Imperial indignation did not last long enough
to produce any remedial consequences. The only result was
that one member of the tribunal was dismissed from the
service, and the Governor-General of St. Petersburg had to
resign, but the latter subsequently received an honorary
reward, and the Emperor remarked that he was himself to
blame for having kept the Governor-General so long at his
post.

When His Majesty's habitual optimism happened to be
troubled by incidents of this sort he probably consoled
himself with remembering that he had ordered some prepara-

RADICAL REFORMS 585

tory work, by which the administration of justice might be
improved, and this work was being diHgently carried out
in the legislative section of his own chancery by Count
Bludov, one of the ablest Russian lawyers of his time. Un-
fortunately, the existing state of things was not thereby
improved, because the preparatory work was not of tlie
kind that was wanted. On the assumption that any evil
which might exist could be removed by improving the laws,
Count Bludov devoted his efforts almost entirely to codifica-
tion. In reality, what was required was to change radically
the organisation of the courts and the procedure, and above
all to let in on their proceedings the cleansing atmosphere
of publicity. This the Emperor Nicholas could not under-
stand, and if he had understood it he could not have brought
himself to adopt the appropriate remedies, because radical
reform and control of officials by public opinion were his two
pet bugbears.

Very different was his son and successor, Alexander II.,
in the first years of his reign. In his accession manifesto a
prominent place was given to his desire that justice and mercy
should reign in the courts of law. Referring to these words
in a later manifesto, he explained his wishes more fully as
"the desire to establish in Russia expeditious, just, merciful,
impartial courts of justice for all our subjects; to elevate the
judicial authority; to give it the proper independence, and
in general to implant in the people that respect for the law
which ought to be the constant guide of all and everyone
from the highest to the lowest." These were not mere vain
words. Peremptory orders had been given that the great
work should be undertaken without delay, and when the
Emancipation question was being discussed in the Pro-
vincial Committees, the Council of State examined the
question of judicial reform "from the historical, the
theoretical, and the practical point of view," and came to the
conclusion that the existing organisation must be completely
transformed.

The commission appointed to consider this important
matter filed a lengthy indictment against the existing system,
and pointed out no less than twenty-five radical defects. To
remove these it proposed that the judicial organisation should

586 RUSSIA

be completely separated from all other branches of the
Administration; that the most ample publicity, with trial
by jury in criminal cases, should be introduced into the
tribunals ; that Justice of Peace Courts should be created for
petty affairs; and that the procedure in the ordinary courts
should be greatly simplified.

These fundamental principles were published by Imperial
command on September 29th, 1862 — a year and a half after
the publication of the Emancipation Manifesto — and on
November 20th, 1864, the new legislation founded on these
principles received the Imperial sanction.

Like most institutions erected on a tabula rasa, the new
system is at once simple and symmetrical. As a whole, the
architecture of the edifice is decidedly French, but here and
there we may detect unmistakable symptoms of English
influence. It is not, however, a servile copy of any older
edifice ; and it may be fairly said that, though every in-
dividual part was fashioned according to a foreign model, the
whole has a certain originality.

The lower part of the building in its original form was
composed of two great sections, distinct from, and inde-
pendent of, each other — on the one hand the Justice of Peace
Courts, and on the other the Regular Tribunals. Both
sections contained an Ordinary Court and a Court of Appeal.
The upper part of the building, covering equally both
sections, was the Senate as Supreme Court of Revision (Cour
de Cassation).

The distinctive character of the two independent sections
may be detected at a glance. The function of the Justice of
Peace Courts is to decide petty cases that involve no abstruse
legal principles, and to settle, if possible by conciliation,
those petty conflicts and disputes which arise naturally in
the relations of everyday life; the function of the Regular
Tribunals is to take cognisance of those graver affairs in
which the fortune or honour of individuals or families is
more or less implicated, or in which the public tranquillity
is seriously endangered. The two kinds of courts were
organised in accordance with these intended functions. In
the former the procedure is simple and conciliatory, the
jurisdiction is confined to cases of little importance, and the

THE NEW SYSTEM 5^7

judges were at first chosen by popular election, generally
from among the local inhabitants. In the latter there is
more of "the pomp and majesty of the law." The pro-
cedure is more strict and formal, the jurisdiction is unlimited
with regard to the importance of the cases, and the judges
are trained jurists nominated by the Emperor.

The Justice of Peace Courts received jurisdiction over all
obligations and civil injuries in which the sum at stake was
not more than 500 roubles— about ^50 — and all criminal
affairs in which the legal punishment did not exceed 300
roubles — about ;i^30 — or one year of imprisonment. When
anyone had a complaint to make, he might go to the Justice
of the Peace (Mirovoi Sudyd) and explain the affair orally,
or in writing, without observing any formalities; and if the
complaint seemed well founded, the Justice at once fixed a
day for hearing the case, and gave the other party notice
to appear at the appointed time. When the time appointed
arrived, the affair was discussed publicly and orally, either
by the parties themselves, or by any representatives whom
they might appoint. If it was a civil suit, the Justice began
by proposing to the parties to terminate it at once by a com-
promise, and indicated what he considered a fair arrange-
ment. Many affairs were terminated in this simple way.
If, however, either of the parties refused to consent to a
compromise, the matter was fully discussed, and the Justice
gave a formal written decision, containing the grounds on
which it was based. In criminal cases the amount of
punishment was always determined by reference to a special
Criminal Code.

If the sum at issue exceeded thirty roubles — about ;C3 —
or if the punishment exceeded a fine of fifteen roubles — about
30s. — or three days of arrest, an appeal might be made to the
Assembly of Justices (Mirovoi Sycad). This is a point in
which English rather than. French institutions were taken as
a model. According to the French system, all appeals from
a Juge de Paix are made to the "Tribunal d'Arrondisse-
ment," and the Justice of Peace Courts are thereby subor-
dinated to the Regular Tribunals. According to the English
system, certain cases may be carried on appeal from the
Justice of the Peace to the Quarter Sessions. This latter

588 RUSSIA

principle was adopted and greatly developed by the Russian
legislation. The Monthly Sessions, composed of all the
Justices of the District {uyead), considered appeals against
the decisions of the individual Justices. The procedure was
simple and informal, as in the lower court, but an assistant
of the Procureur was always present. This functionary gave
his opinion in some civil and in all criminal cases immedi-
ately after the debate, and the Court took his opinion into
consideration in framing its judgment.

In the other great section of the judicial organisation —
the Regular Tribunals — there are likewise Ordinary Courts
and Courts of Appeal, called respectively "Tribunaux d'Ar-
rondissement " {Okruzhniye Sud'^) and "Palais de Justice"
(Sudebniya Paldty). Each Ordinary Court has jurisdiction
over several Districts (uyesdy), and the jurisdiction of each
Court of Appeal comprehends several Provinces. All civil
cases are subject to appeal, however small the sum at stake
may be, but criminal cases are decided finally by the lower
court with the aid of a jury. Thus in criminal affairs the
"Palais de Justice" is not at all a court of appeal, but as no
regular criminal prosecution can be raised without its formal
consent, it controls in some measure the action of the lower
courts.

As the general reader cannot be supposed to take an
interest in the details of civil procedure, I shall merely say
on this subject that in both sections of the Regular Tribunals
the cases are always tried by at least three judges, the sittings
are public, and oral debates by officially recognised advocates
form an important part of the proceedings. I venture,
however, to speak a little more at length regarding the
change which has been made in the criminal procedure — a
subject that is less technical and more interesting for the
uninitiated.

Down to the time of the recent judicial reforms the pro-
cedure in criminal cases was, as I have said above, secret
and inquisitorial. The accused had little opportunity for
defending himself, but, on the other hand, the State took
endless formal precautions against condemning the innocent.
The practical consequence of this system was that an innocent
man might remain for years in prison until the authorities

COURT OF REVISION 5«9

convinced themselves of his innocence, whilst a clever
criminal might indefinitely postpone his condemnation.

In studying the history of criminal procedure in foreign
countries, those who were entrusted with the task of prepar-
ing projects of reform found that nearly every country of
Europe had experienced the evils from which Russia was
suffering, and that one country after another had come to the
conviction that the most efficient means of removing these
evils was to replace the inquisitorial by litigious procedure,
to give a fair field and no favour to the prosecutor and the
accused, and allow them to fight out their battle with what-
ever legal weapons they might think fit. Further, it was
discovered that, according to the most competent foreign
authorities, it was well in this modern form of judicial combat
to leave the decision to a jury of respectable citizens. The
steps which Russia had to take were thus clearly marked out
by the experience of other nations, and it was decided that
they should be taken at once. The organs for the prosecu-
tion of supposed criminals were carefully separated from the
judges on the one hand, and from the police on the other;
oral discussions between the Public Prosecutor and the
prisoner's counsel, together with oral examination and cross-
questioning of witnesses, were introduced into the procedure;
and the jury was made an essential factor in criminal
trials.

When a case, whether civil or criminal, has been decided
in the Regular Tribunals, there is no possibility of appeal
in the strict sense of the term, but an application may be made
for a revision of the case on the ground of technical in-
formality. To use the French terms, there cannot be appel,
but there may be cassation. According to the new Russian
system, the sole Court of Revision is the Senate.

The Senate thus forms the regulator of the whole judicial
system, but its action is merely regulative. It takes cognis-
ance only of what is presented to it, and supplies to the
machine no motive power. If any of the lower courts should
work slowly or cease to work altogether, the Senate might
remain ignorant of the fact, and certainly could take no
official notice of it. It was considered necessary, therefore,
to supplement the spontaneous vitality of the lower courts.

590 RUSSIA

and for this purpose was created a special centralised judicial
administration, at the head of which was placed the Minister
of Justice. The Minister is " Procureur-General," and has
subordinates in all the courts. The primary function of this
administration is to preserve the force of the law, to detect
and repair all infractions of judicial order, to defend the
interests of the State and of those persons who are officially
reconrnised as incapable of taking charge of their own affairs,
and to act in criminal matters as Public Prosecutor.

Viewed as a whole, and from a little distance, this grand
judicial edifice seems perfectly symmetrical, but a closer and
more minute inspection brings to light unmistakable indi-
cations of a change of plan during the process of construction.
Though the work lasted only about half-a-dozen years, the
style of the upper differs from the style of the lower parts,
precisely as in those Gothic cathedrals which grew up slowly
during the course of centuries. And there is nothing here
that need surprise us, for a considerable change took place
in the opinions of the official world during that short period.
The reform was conceived at a time of uncritical enthusiasm
for advanced liberal ideas, of boundless faith in the dictates
of science, of unquestioning reliance on public spirit, public
control, and public honesty — a time in which it was believed
that the public would spontaneously do everything necessary
for the common weal, if it were only freed from the ad-
ministrative swaddling clothes in which it had been hitherto
bound. Still smarting from the severe regime of Nicholas,
men thought more about protecting the rights of the indi-
vidual than about preserving public order, and under the
influence of the socialistic ideas in vogue, malefactors were
regarded as the unfortunate, involuntary victims of social
inequality and injustice.

Towards the end of the period in question all this had
begun to change. Many were beginning to perceive that
liberty might easily turn to licence, that the spontaneous
public energy was largely expended in empty words, and
that a certain amount of hierarchical discipline was necessary
in order to keep the public administration in motion. It
was found, therefore, in 1864, that it was impossible to carry
out to their ultimate consequences the general principles laid

THE SYSTEM AT WORK 591

down and published in 1862. Even in those parts of the
legislation which were actually put in force, it was found
necessary to make modifications in an indirect, covert way.
Of these, one may be cited by way of illustration. In i860
criminal inquiries were taken out of the hands of the police,
and transferred to "Juges d'Instruction " (Sudebniye
Sledovatcli), who were almost entirely independent of the
Public Prosecutor, and could not be removed unless con-
demned for some legal transgression by a Regular Tribunal.
This reform created at first much rejoicing and great ex-
pectations, because it raised a barrier against the tyranny of
the police and against the arbitrary power of the higher
officials. But very soon the defects of the system became
apparent. Many jugcs d' instruction, feeling themselves in-
dependent and knowing that they would not be prosecuted
except for some flagrantly illegal act, gave way to indolence,
and spent their time in inactivity.* In such cases it was
always difficult, and sometimes impossible, to procure a con-
demnation— for indolence must assume gigantic proportions
in order to become a crime — and the Minister had to adopt
the practice of appointing, without Imperial confirmation,
temporary juges d'instrnction whom he could remove at
pleasure.

It is unnecessary, however, to enter into these theoretical
defects. The important question for the general public is :
How do the institutions work in the local conditions in which
they are placed ?

This is a question which has an interest not only for
Russians, but for all students of social science, for it tends
to throw light on the difficult subject as to how far institutions
may be successfully transplanted to a foreign soil. Many
thinkers hold, and not without reason, that no institution
can work well unless it is the natural product of previous
historical development. Now we have here an opportunity
of testing this theory by experience ; we have even what
Bacon terms an cxpcrimentum criicis. This new judicial
system is an artificial creation constructed in accordance with
principles laid down by foreign jurists. All that the elab-
orators of the project said about developing old institutions

• A flagrant case of this kind came under my own observation.

592 RUSSIA

was mere talk. In reality, they made a tabula rasa of the
existing organisation. If the introduction of public oral
procedure and trial by jury was a return to ancient customs,
it was a return to what had been long since forgotten by all
except antiquarian specialists, and no serious attempt was
made to develop what actually existed. One form, indeed,
of oral procedure had been preserved in the Code, but it had
fallen completely into disuse, and seems to have been over-
looked by the elaborators of the new system.*

Having in general little confidence in institutions which
spring ready-made from the brains of autocratic legislators,
I expected to find that this new judicial organisation, which
looks so well on paper, was wellnigh worthless in reality.
Observation, however, has not confirmed my pessimistic ex-
pectations. On the contrary, I have found that these new
institutions, though they are very far from being perfect,
even in the human sense of the term, work on the whole
remarkably well, and have already conferred immense benefit
on the country.

In the course of a few years the Justice of Peace Courts,
which may perhaps be called the newest part of the new
institutions, became thoroughly acclimatised as if they had
existed for generations. As soon as they were opened they
became extremely popular. In Moscow the authorities had
calculated that under the new system the number of cases
would be more than doubled, and that on an average each
justice would have nearly a thousand cases brought before
him in the course of the year. The reality far exceeded their
expectations : each justice had on an average 2,800 cases.
In St. Petersburg and the other large towns the amount of
work which the justices had to get through was equally
great.

To understand the popularity of the Justice of Peace
Courts, we must know something of the old police courts
which they supplanted. The nobles, the military, and the
small officials had always looked on the police with con-
tempt, because their position secured them against inter-

* I refer to the <;o-called Sud po forme, established by an ukaz of Peter
the Great, in 1723. I was much astonished when I accidentally stumbled upon
it in the Code.

THE JUSTICE OF PEACE COURT 593

ference, and the merchants acquired a similar immunity by
submitting to blackmail, which often took the form of a
fixed subsidy ; but the lower classes in town and country
stood in fear of the humblest policeman, and did not dare
to complain of him to his superiors. If two workmen
brought their differences before a police court, instead of
getting their case decided on grounds of equity they were
pretty sure to get scolded in language unfit for ears polite,
or to receive still worse treatment. Even among the higher
officers of the force many became famous for their brutality.
A Gorodnitchi of the town of Tcherkassy, for example, made
for himself in this respect a considerable reputation. If any
humble individual ventured to offer an objection to him, he
had at once recourse to his lists, and any reference to the
law put him into a state of frenzy. "The town," he was
wont to say on such occasions, "has been entrusted to me by
his Majesty, and you dare to talk to me of the law ? There
is the law for you ! " — the remark being accompanied with
a blow\ Another officer of the same type, long resident in
Kief, had a somewhat different method of maintaining order.
He habitually drove about the town with a Cossack escort,
and when anyone of the lower classes had the misfortune to
displease him, he ordered one of his Cossacks to apply a
little corporal punishment on the spot without any legal
formalities.

In the Justice of Peace Courts things were conducted in
a very different style. The justice, always scrupulously
polite without distinction of persons, listened patiently to
the complaint, tried to arrange the affair amicably, and
when his efforts failed, gave his decision at once according
to law and common sense. No attention was paid to rank or
social position. A general who w^ould not conform to the
police regulations was fined like an ordinary w^orkman, and
in a dispute between a great dignitary and a man of the
people the two were treated in precisely the same way. No
wonder such courts became popular among the masses; and
their popularity was increased when it became known that the
affairs were disposed of expeditiously, without unnecessary
formalities and without any bribes or blackmail. Many
peasants regarded the justice as they had been wont to

594 RUSSIA

regard kindly proprietors of the old patriarchal type, and
brought their griefs and sorrows to him in the hope that he
would somehow alleviate them. Often they submitted most
intimate domestic and matrimonial concerns, of which no
court could possibly take cognisance, and sometimes they
demanded the fulfilment of contracts which were in flagrant
contradiction not only to the written law, but also to
ordinary morality.*

Of course, the courts were not entirely without blemishes.
In the matter, for example, of making no distinction of
persons, some of the early justices, in seeking to avoid
Scylla, came dangerously near to Charybdis. Imagining that
their mission was to eradicate the conceptions and habits
which had been created and fostered by serfage, they some-
times used their authority for giving lessons in philanthropic
liberalism, and took a malicious delight in wounding the
susceptibilities, and occasionally even the material interests,
of those whom they regarded as enemies to the good cause.
In disputes between master and servant, or between em-
ployer and workmen, the justice of this type considered it his
duty to resist the tyranny of capital, and was apt to forget
his official character of judge in his assumed character of
social reformer. Happily, these aberrations on the part of
the justices are already things of the past, but they helped to
bring about a reaction, as we shall see presently.

The extreme popularity of the Justice of Peace Courts
did not last very long. Their history resembled that of the
Zemstvo and many other new institutions in Russia : at first,
enthusiasm and inordinate expectations; then consciousness
of defects and practical inconveniences; and, lastly, in an
influential section of the public, the pessimism of shattered
illusions, accompanied by the adoption of a reactionary
policy on the part of the Government. The discontent
appeared first among the so-called privileged classes. To
people who had all their lives enjoyed great social considera-
tion it seemed monstrous that they should be treated exactly
on the same footing as the muzhik. When a general, for

* Many curious inslanrcs of Uiis have come to my knnvvledgr, but they are
of such a kind that they cannot be quoted in a work intended for the general
public

A REACTIONARY POLICY 595

example, who was accustomed to be addressed as "Your
Excellency," was accused of using abusive language to his
cook, and found himself seated on the same bench with the
menial, he naturally supposed that the end of all things
wiis at hand. Similarly, a great civil official, who was
accustomed to regard the police as created merely for the
lower classes, was greatly scandalised when he suddenly
found himself, to his inexpressible astonishment, fined for
a contravention of police regulations ! Naturally the justices
were accused of dangerous revolutionary tendencies, and
when they happened to bring to light some injustices on
the part of the ichinovniks they were severely condemned for
undermining the prestige of the Imperial authority !

For a time the accusations provoked merely a smile or a
caustic remark among the Liberals, but about the middle of
the 'eighties criticisms began to appear even in the Liberal
Press. No very grave allegations were made, but defects in
the system and miscarriages of justice were put forward
and severely commented upon. Occasionally it happened
that a justice was indolent, or that at the Sessions in a small
country town it w'as impossible to form a quorum on the
appointed day. Overlooking the good features of the insti-
tution and the good services rendered by it, the critics,
especially those in the reactionary camp, began to propose
partial reorganisation in the sense of greater control by the
central authorities. It was suggested, for example, that the
President of Sessions should be appointed by the Govern-
ment, that the justices should be subordinated to the Regular
Tribunals, and that the principle of election by the Zemstvo
should be abolished.

These complaints were not at all unwelcome to the
Government, because it had embarked on a reactionary
policy, and in i88g it suddenly granted to the critics a great
deal more than they desired. In the rural districts of Central
Russia the justices were replaced by the rural supervisors,
of whom I have spoken in a previous chapter, and the part of
their functions which could not well be entrusted to those
new officials was transferred to judges of the Regular Courts.
In some of the larger towns and in the rural districts of out-
lying provinces the justices were preserved, but instead of

596 RUSSIA

being elected by the Zemstvo they were nominated by the
Government.

The Regular Tribunals likewise became acclimatised in
an incredibly short space of time. The first judges were not
by any means profound jurists, and were too often deficient
in that dispassionate calmness which we are accustomed to
associate with the Bench ; but they w-ere at least honest,
educated men, and generally possessed a fair knowledge of
the law. Their defects were due to the fact that the demand
for trained jurists far exceeded the supply, and the Govern-
ment was forced to nominate men who, under ordinary cir-
cumstances, would never have thought of presenting them-
selves as candidates. At the beginning of 1870, in the 32
"Tribunaux d'Arrondissement " which then existed, there
were 227 judges, of whom 44 had never received a judicial
education. Even the presidents had not all passed through
a school of law. Of course the courts could not become
thoroughly effective until all the judges were men who had
received a good special education, and had a practical
acquaintance with judicial matters. This has now been
effected, and the present generation of judges are better pre-
pared and more capable than their predecessors. On the
score of probity I have never heard any complaints.

Of all the judicial innovations, perhaps the most interest-
ing is the jury.

At the time of the reforms the introduction of the jury into
the judicial organisation awakened among the educated
classes a great amount of sentimental enthusiasm. The
institution had the reputation of being "liberal," and was
known to be approved of by the latest authorities in criminal
jurisprudence. This w-as sufficient to insure it a favourable
reception, and to excite most exaggerated expectations as to
its beneficent influence. Ten years of experience somewhat
cooled this enthusiasm, and voices might be heard declaring
that the introduction of the jury was a mistake. The
Russian people, it was held, was not yet ripe for such an
institution, and numerous anecdotes were related in support
of this opinion. One jury, for instance, was said to have
returned a verdict of ''not guilty with extenuating circum-
stances " ; and another, being unable to come to a decision,

THE BENCH 597

was reported to have cast lots before an Icon, and to have
given a verdict in accordance with the result ! Besides this,
juries often gave a verdict of "not guihy " when the accused
made a full and formal confession to the court.

How far the comic anecdotes are true I do not undertake
to decide, but I venture to assert that such incidents, if they
really occur, are too few to form the basis of a serious indict-
ment. The fact, however, that juries often acquit prisoners
who openly confess their crime is beyond all possibility of
doubt.

To most Englishmen this fact will probably seem sufficient
to prove that the introduction of the institution was at least
premature, but before adopting this sweeping conclusion, it
will be well to examine the phenomenon a little more closely
in connection with Russian criminal procedure as a whole.

In England the Bench is allowed very great latitude in
fixing the amount of punishment. The jury can therefore
confine themselves to the question of fact and leave to the
judge the appreciation of extenuating circumstances. In
Russia the position of the jury is different. The Russian
criminal law fixes minutely the punishment for each category
of crimes, and leaves very little latitude to the judges. The
jury know that if they give a verdict of guilty, the prisoner
will inevitably be punished according to the Code. Now the
Code, borrowed in great part from foreign legislation, is
founded on conceptions very different from those of the
Russian people, and in many cases it attaches heavy penalties
to acts which the ordinary Russian is wont to regard as mere
peccadilloes, or positively justifiable. Even in those matters
in which the Code is in harmony with the popular morality,
there are many exceptional cases in which sunimum jus is
really siimma injuria. Suppose, for instance— as actually
happened in a case which came under my notice — that a fire
breaks out in a village, and that the Village Elder, driven
out of patience by the apathy and laziness of some of his
young fellow-villagers, oversteps the limits of his authority
as defined bv law, and accompanies his reproaches and ex-
hortations with a few lusty blows. Surely such a man is
not guiltv of a very heinous crime — certainly he is not in the
opinion of the peasantry — and yet if he be prosecuted and

598 RUSSIA

convicted he inevitably falls into the jaws of an article of the
Code which condemns to transportation for a long term of
years.

In such cases what are the jury to do? In England they
might safely give a verdict of guilty, and leave the judge to
take into consideration all the extenuating circumstances; but
in Russia they cannot act in this way, for they know that the
judge must condemn the prisoner according to the Criminal
Code. There remains, therefore, but one issue out of the
difficulty^a verdict of acquittal; and Russian juries — to
their honour be it said — generally adopt this alternative.
Thus the jury, in those very cases in which it is most severely
condemned, provides a corrective for the injustice of the
criminal legislation. Occasionally, it is true, they go a little
too far in this direction and arrogate to themselves a right
of pardon, but cases of that kind are, I believe, very rare. I
know of only one well-authenticated instance. The prisoner
had been proved guilty of a serious crime, but it happened
to be the eve of a great religious festival, and the jury
thought that in pardoning the prisoner and giving a verdict
of acquittal, they would be acting as good Christians !

The legislation, of course, regards this practice as an
abuse, and has tried to prevent it by concealing as far
as possible from the jury the punishment that awaits the
accused if he be condemned. For this purpose it forbids
the counsel for the prisoner to inform the jury what punish-
ment is prescribed by the Code for the crime in question.
This ingenious device not only fails in its object, but has
sometimes a directly opposite effect. Not knowing what the
punishment will be, and fearing that it may be out of all
proportion to the crime, the jury sometimes acquit a criminal
whom they would condemn if they knew what punishment
would be inflicted. And when a jury is, as it were,
entrapped, and finds that the punishment is more severe
than it supposed, it can take its revenge in the succeeding
cases. I know at least of one instance of this kind. A jury
convicted a prisoner of an offence which it regarded as very-
trivial, but which in reality entailed, according to the Code,
seven years of penal servitude ! So surprised and frightened
were the jurymen by this unexpected consequence of their

A STRANGE ACQUITTAL 599

verdict, that they obstinately acquitted, in the face of the
most convincing evidence, all the other prisoners brought
before them.

The most famous case of acquittal when there was no
conceivable doubt as to the guilt of the accused was that of
Vera Zasulitch, who shot General Trepov, Prefect of St.
Petersburg; but the circumstances were so peculiar that they
will hardly support any general conclusion. I happened to
be present, and watched the proceedings closely. Vera
Zasulitch, a young woman who had for some time taken
part in the revolutionary movement, heard that a young
revolutionist called Bogoliubov, imprisoned in St. Peters-
burg, had been flogged by orders of General Trepov,* and
though she did not know the victim personally she deter-
mined to avenge the indignity to which he had been
subjected. With this intention she appeared at the Pre-
fecture, ostensibly for the purpose of presenting a petition,
and when she found herself in the presence of the Prefect
she fired a revolver at him, wounding him seriously, but
not mortally. At the trial the main facts were not disputed,
and yet the jury brought in a verdict of not guilty. This
unexpected result was due, I believe, partly to a desire to
make a little political demonstration, and partly to a strong
suspicion that the prison authorities, in carrying out the
Prefect's orders, had acted in summary fashion without
observing the tedious formalities prescribed by the law.
Certainly one of the prison officials, when under cross-
examination, made on me, and on the public generally, the
impression that he was prevaricating in order to shield his
superiors.

At the close of the proceedings, which were dexterously
conducted by counsel in such a way that, as the Emperor
is reported to have said, it was not Vera Zasulitch, but
General Trepov, who was being tried, an eminent Russian
journalist rushed up to me in a state of intense excitement
and said : "Is not this a great day for the cause of political
freedom in Russia?" I could not agree with him, and I

* The reason alleged by General Trepnv for giving these orders was that,
during a visit of inspection, Bogoliubov had behaved disrespectfully towards
him, and had thereby committed an infraction of prison discipline, for which
the law prescribes the use of corporal punishment.

6oo RUSSIA

ventured to predict that neither of us would ever again see
a political case tried publicly by jury in an ordinary court.
The prediction has proved true. Since that time political
offenders have been tried by special tribunals without a jury,
or dealt with "by administrative procedure" — that is to say,
inquisitorially, without any regular trial.

The defects, real and supposed, of the present system
are commonly attributed to the predominance of the peasant
element in the juries; and this opinion, founded on a priori
reasoning, seems to many too evident to require verification.
The peasantry are in many respects the most ignorant class,
and therefore, it is assumed, they are least capable of weigh-
ing conflicting evidence. Plain and conclusive as this
reasoning seems, it is in my opinion erroneous. The
peasants have, indeed, little education, but they have a large
fund of plain common sense ; and experience proves — so at
least I have been informed by many judges and Public
Prosecutors — that, as a general rule, a peasant jury is more
to be relied on than a jury drawn from the educated classes.
It must be admitted, however, that a peasant jury has certain
peculiarities, and it is not a little interesting to observe what
those peculiarities are.

In the first place, a jury composed of peasants generally
acts in a somewhat patriarchal fashion, and does not always
confine its attention to the evidence and the arguments
adduced at the trial. The members form their judgment
as men do in the afifairs of ordinary life, and are sure to be
greatly influenced by any jurors who happen to be person-
ally acquainted with the prisoner. If several of the jurors
know him to be a bad character, he has little chance of
being acquitted, even though the chain of evidence against
him should not be quite perfect. Peasants cannot under-
stand why a notorious scoundrel should be allowed to escape
because a little link in the evidence is wanting, or because
some little judicial formality has not been duly observed.
Indeed, <^^heir ideas of criminal procedure in general are
extremely primitive. The Communal method of dealing with
malefactors is best in accordance with their conceptions of
well-regulated society. Until recently the Mir could, by a
Communal decree and without a formal trial, have any of

PEASANTS AS JURORS 6oi

its unruly members transported to Siberia. This summary,
informal mode of procedure seems to the peasants very
satisfactory. They are at a loss to understand how a
notorious culprit is allowed to "buy" an advocate to defend
him, and are very insensible to the bought advocate's
eloquence. To many of them, if I may trust to conversa-
tions which I have casually overheard in and around the
courts, "buying an advocate " seems to be very much the
same kind of operation as bribing a judge.

In the second place, the peasants, when acting as jurors,
are very severe with regard to crimes against property. In
this they are instigated by the simple instinct of self-defence.
They are, in fact, continually at the mercy of thieves and
malefactors. They live in wooden houses easily set on fire ;
their stables might be broken into by a child; at night the
village is guarded merely by an old man, who cannot be in
more than one place at a time, and in the one place he is
apt to go to sleep ; a police officer is rarely seen, except when
a crime has actually been committed. A few clever horse-
stealers may ruin many families, and a fire-raiser, in his
desire to avenge himself on an enemy, may reduce a whole
village to destitution. These and similar considerations tend
to make the peasants very severe against theft, robbery, and
arson ; and a Public Prosecutor who desires to obtain a con-
viction against a man charged with one of these crimes
endeavours to have a jury in which the peasant class is
largely represented.

With regard to fraud in its various forms, the peasants
are much more lenient, probably because the line of demar-
cation between honest and dishonest dealing in commercial
affairs is not very clearly drawn in their minds. Many, for
instance, are convinced that trade cannot be successfully
carried on without a little clever cheating; and hence cheat-
ing is regarded as a venial offence. If the money fraudu-
lently acquired be restored to the owner, the crime is
supposed to be completely condoned. Thus when a Volost
Elder appropriates the public money, and succeeds in repay-
ing it before the case comes on for trial, he is invariably
acquitted — and sometimes even re-elected !

An equal leniency is generally shown by peasants towards

6o2 RUSSIA

crimes against the person, such as assauUs, cruelty, and the
like. This fact is easily explained. Refined sensitiveness
and a keen sympathy with physical suffering are the result
of a certain amount of material well-being, together with a
certain degree of intellectual and moral culture, and neither
of these is yet possessed by the Russian peasantry. Anyone
who has had opportunities of frequently observing the
peasants must have been often astonished by their indiffer-
ence to suffering, both in their own persons and in the
persons of others. In a drunken brawl heads may be broken
and wounds inflicted without any interference on the part
of the spectators. If no fatal consequences ensue, the
peasant does not think it necessary that official notice should
be taken of the incident, and certainly does not consider that
any of the combatants should be transported to Siberia.
Slight wounds heal of their own accord without any serious
loss to the sufferer, and therefore the man who inflicts them
is not to be put on the same level as the criminal who reduces
a family to beggary. This reasoning may, perhaps, shock
people of sensitive nerves, but it undeniably contains a
certain amount of plain, homely wisdom.

Of all kinds of cruelty, that which is perhaps most
revolting to civilised mankind is the cruelty of the husband
towards his wife ; but to this crime the Russian peasant
shows especial leniency. He is still influenced by the old
conceptions of the husband's rights, and by that low estimate
of the weaker sex which finds expression in many popular
proverbs.

The peculiar moral conceptions reflected in these facts
are evidently the result of external conditions, and not of
any recondite ethnographical peculiarities, for they are not
found among the merchants, who are nearly all of peasant
origin. On the contrary, the merchants are more severe
with regard to crimes against the person than with regard
to crimes against property. The explanation of this is
simple. The merchant has means of protecting his property,
and if he should happen to suffer by theft, his fortune is
not likely to be seriously affected by it. On the other hand,
he has a certain sensitiveness with regard to such crimes
as assault ; for though he has commonly not much more

EDUCATED JURORS 603

intellectual and moral culture than the peasant, he is accus-
tomed to comfort and material well-being, which naturally
develop sensitiveness regarding physical pain.

Towards fraud the merchants are quite as lenient as the
peasantry. This may, perhaps, seem strange, for fraudulent
practices are sure in the long run to undermine trade. The
Russian merchants, however, have not yet arrived at this
conception, and can point to many of the richest members
of their class as a proof that fraudulent practices often
create enormous fortunes. Long ago Samuel Butler justly
remarked that we damn the sins we have no mind to.

As the external conditions have little or no influence on
the religious conceptions of the merchants and the peasantry,
the two classes are equally severe with regard to those acts
uhich are regarded as crimes against the Deity. Hence
acquittals in cases of sacrilege, blasphemy, and the like,
never occur unless the jury is in part composed of educated
men.

In their decisions, as in their ordinary modes of thought,
the jurors drawn from the educated classes are little, if at
all, affected by theological conceptions, but they are some-
times influenced in a not less unfortunate way by conceptions
of a different order. It may happen, for instance, that a
juror who has passed through one of the higher educational
establishments has his own peculiar theory about the value
of evidence, or he is profoundly impressed with the idea
that it is better that a thousand guilty men should escape
than that one innocent man should be punished, or he is
imbued with sentimental pseudo-philanthropy, or he is con-
vinced that punishments are useless because they neither
cure the delinquent nor deter others from crime; in a word,
he itiay have in some way or other lost his mental balance
in that moral chaos through which Russia has lately
passed. In England, France, or Germany such an indi-
vidual would have little influence on his fellow-jurymen, for
in these countries there are very few people who allow new-
paradoxical ideas to overturn their traditional notions and
obscure their common sense; but in Russia, where even the
elementary moral conceptions are singularly unstable and
pliable, a man of this type may succeed in leading a jury.

6o4 RUSSIA

More than once I have heard men boast of having induced
their fellow-jurymen to acquit every prisoner brought before
them, not because they believed the prisoners to be innocent
or the evidence to be insufficient, but because all punishments
are useless and barbarous.

One word in conclusion regarding the independence and
political significance of the new courts. When the question
of judicial reform was first publicly raised many people hoped
that the new courts would receive complete autonomy and
real independence, and would thus form a foundation for
political liberty. These hopes, like so many illusions of that
strange time, have not been realised. A large measure of
autonomy and independence was indeed granted in theory.
The law laid down the principle that no judge could be
removed unless convicted of a definite crime, and that the
courts should present candidates for all the vacant places on
the Bench ; but these and similar rights have little practical
significance. If the Minister cannot depose a judge, he can
deprive him of all possibility of receiving promotion, and
he can easily force him in an indirect way to send in his
resignation ; and if the courts have still the right to present
candidates for vacant places, the Minister has also the right,
and can, of course, always secure the nomination of his own
candidate. By the influence of that centripetal force which
exists in all centralised bureaucracies, the Procureurs have
become more important personages than the Presidents of
the courts.

From the political point of view the question of the
independence of the courts has not yet acquired much
practical importance, because the Government can always
have political offenders tried by a special tribunal, or can
send them to Siberia for an indefinite term of years without
regular trial by the "administrative procedure" to which I
have above referred.

CHAPTER XXXIV

REVOLUTIONARY NIHILISM AND THE REACTION

The rapidly increasing enthusiasm for reform after the
Crimean War did not confine itself to practical measures
such as the emancipation of the serfs, the creation of local
self-government, and the thorough reorganisation of the law
courts and legal procedure. In the younger section of the
educated classes, and especially among the students of the
universities and technical colleges, it produced a feverish
intellectual excitement and wild aspirations which culminated
in what is commonly known as Nihilism.

In a preceding chapter I pointed out that during the last
two centuries all the important intellectual movements in
Western Europe have been reflected in Russia, and that
these reflections have generally been what may fairly be
termed exaggerated and distorted reproductions of the
originals.* Roughly speaking, the Nihilist movement in
Russia may be described as the exaggerated, distorted
reflection of the earlier Socialist movements of the West ;
but it has local peculiarities and local colouring which
deserve attention.

The Russian educated classes had been well prepared by
their past history for the reception and rapid development
of the Socialist virus. For a century and a half the country
had been subjected to a series of drastic changes, adminis-
trative and social, by the energetic action of the Autocratic
Power, with little spontaneous co-operation on the part of
the people. In a nation with such a history, Socialistic ideas
naturally found favour, because all Socialist systems, until
quite recent times, were founded on the assumption that
political and social progress must be the result not of slow
natural development, but rather of philosophic speculation,
legislative wisdom, and administrative energy.

* See Chap. XXVI.
605

6o6 RUSSIA

This assumption lay at the bottom of the reform enthu-
siasm in St. Petersburg at the commencement of Alexander
II.'s reign. Russia might be radically transformed, it was
thought, politically and socially, according to abstract
scientific principles, in the space of a few years, and be
thereby raised to the level of West-European civilisation,
or even higher. The older nations had for centuries groped
in darkness, or stumbled along in the faint light of practical
experience, and consequently their progress had been slow
and uncertain. For Russia there was no necessity to follow
such devious, unexplored paths. She ought to profit by
the experience of her elder sisters, and avoid the errors into
which they had fallen. Nor was it difficult to ascertain
what these errors were, because they had been discovered,
examined and explained by the most eminent thinkers of
France, Germany and England, and efficient remedies had
been prescribed. Russian reformers had merely to study
and apply the conclusions at which these eminent authorities
had arrived, and their task would be greatly facilitated by
the fact that they could operate on virgin soil, untrammelled
by the feudal traditions, religious superstitions, metaphysical
conceptions, romantic illusions, aristocratic prejudices, and
similar obstacles to social and political progress which
existed in Western Europe.

Such was the extraordinary intellectual atmosphere in
which the Russian educated classes lived during the early
years of the 'sixties. On "the men with aspirations" who
had longed in vain for more light and more public activity
under the obscurantist, repressive regime of the preceding
reign, it had an intoxicating effect. The more excitable
and sanguine amongst them now believed seriously that they
had discovered a convenient short cut to national prosperity,
and that for Russia a grandiose social and political milen-
nium was at hand.*

In these circumstances it is not surprising that one of
the most prominent characteristics of the time was a bound-
less, child-like faith in the so-called "latest results of

* I was not myself in St. Petersburg at that period, but on arriving a few
years afterwards I brrame intimately acquainted with men and women who
had lived through it, and who still retained much of their early enthusiasm.

POSITIVIST THEORY 607

science." Infallible science was supposed to have found the
solution of all political and social problems. What a
reformer had to do — and who was not a would-be reformer
in those days? — was merely to study the best authorities.
Their works had been long rigidly excluded by the Press-
censure, and now that it was possible to obtain them, they
were read with avidity.

Chief among the new, infallible prophets whose works
were profoundly venerated was Auguste Comte, the inventor
of Positivism. In his classification of the sciences, the
crowning of the edifice was sociology, which taught how to
organise human society on scientific principles. Russia had
merely to adopt the principles laid down and expounded at
great length in the Cours de Philosophic Positive. There
Comte explained that humanity had to pass through three
stages of intellectual development — the religious, the meta-
physical, and the positive — and that the most advanced
nations, after spending centuries in the two first, were enter-
ing on the third. Russia must endeavour, therefore, to get
into the positive stage as quickly as possible, and there was
reason to believe that, in consequence of certain ethno-
graphical and historial peculiarities, she could make the
transition more quickly than other nations. After Comte's
works, the book which found, for a time, most favour was
Ruckle's "History of Civilisation," which seemed to reduce
history and progress to a matter of statistics, and which laid
down the principle that progress is always in the inverse
ratio of the influence of theological conceptions. This
principle was regarded as of great practical importance, and
the conclusion drawn from it was that rapid national progress
was certain if only the influence of religion and theology
could be destroyed. Very popular, too, was John Stuart
Mill, because he was "imbued with enthusiasm for humanity
and female emancipation "; and in his tract on Utilitarianism
he showed that morality was simply the crystallised experi-
ence of many generations as to what was most conducive to
the greatest good of the greatest number. The minor
prophets of the time, among whom Bijchner occupied a
prominent place, are too numerous to mention.

Strange to say, the newest and most advanced doctrines

6o8 RUSSIA

appeared regularly, under a very thin and transparent veil,
in the St. Petersburg daily Press, and especially in the
thick monthly magazines, which were as big as, or bigger
than, our venerable quarterlies. The art of writing and
reading "between the lines," not altogether unknown under
the Draconian regime of Nicholas I., was now developed to
such a marvellous extent that almost anything could be
written clearly enough to be understood by the initiated
without calling forth the thunderbolts of the Press-censure,
which was now only intermittently severe. Indeed, the Press
Censors themselves were sometimes carried away by the
reform enthusiasm. One of them long afterwards related
to me that during "the mad time," as he called it, in the
course of a single year he had received from his superiors
no less than seventeen reprimands for passing objectionable
articles without remark.

The movement found its warmest partisans among the
students and young literary men, but not a few grey-beards
were to be found among the youthful apostles. All who
read the periodical literature became more or less imbued
with the new spirit ; but it must be presumed that many of
those who discoursed most eloquently had no clear idea of
what they were talking about ; for even at a later date, when
the novices had had time to acquaint themselves with the
doctrines they professed, I often encountered the most
astounding ignorance. Let me give one instance by way
of illustration : A young gentleman who was in the habit of
talking glibly about the necessity for scientifically reorganis-
ing human society, declared to me one day that not only
sociology, but also biology, should be taken into considera-
tion. Confessing my complete ignorance of the latter
science, I requested him to enlighten me by giving me an
instance of a biological principle which could be applied
to social regeneration. He looked confused, and tried to
ride out of the difficulty on vague general phrases; but I
persistently kept him to the point, and maliciously suggested
that as an alternative he might cite to me a biological
principle which could not be used for such a purpose. Again
he failed, and it became evident to all present that of biology,
about which he talked so often, he knew absolutely nothing

REPRESSIVE MEASURES 609

but the name ! After this, I frequently employed the same
pseudo-Socratic method of discussion, and very often with
a similar result. Not one in fifty, perhaps, ever attempted
to reduce the current hazy conceptions to a concrete form.
The enthusiasm was not the less intense, however, on that
account.

At first the partisans of the movement seemed desirous
of assisting, rather than of opposing or undermining, the
Government, and so long as they merely talked academically
about scientific principles and similar vague entities, the
Government felt no necessity for energetic interference; but
as early as 1861 symptoms of a change in the character of
the movement became apparent. A secret society of officers
organised a small printing-press in the building of the Head-
quarters Staff and issued clandestinely three numbers of a
periodical called the Velikoruss {Great Russian), which
advocated administrative reform, the convocation of a con-
stituent assembly, and the emancipation of Poland from
Russian rule. A few months later (April, 1862) a seditious
proclamation appeared, professing to emanate from a central
revolutionary committee, and declaring that the Romanovs
must expiate with their blood the misery of the people.

These symptoms of an underground revolutionary
agitation caused alarm in the official world, and repressive
measures were at once adopted. Sunday schools for the
working classes, reading-rooms, students' clubs, and similar
institutions which might be used for purposes of revolu-
tionary propaganda were closed ; several trials for political
offences took place; the most popular of the monthly
periodicals, the Contemporary, was suspended for a time,
and its editor, Tchernishevski, arrested. There was nothing
to show that Tchernishevski was implicated in any treason-
able designs, but he was undoubtedly the leader of a group
of youthful writers whose aspirations went far beyond the
intentions of the Government, and it was thought desirable
to counteract his influence by shutting him up in prison.
Here he wrote and published, with the permission of the
authorities and the imprimatur of the Press censure, a novel
called "Shto delat' ? " (What is to be done?), which was
regarded at first as a most harmless production, but which
u

6io RUSSIA

is now considered one of the most influential and baneful
works in the whole range of Nihilist literature. As a novel
it had no pretensions to artistic merit, and in ordinary times
it would have attracted little or no attention, but it put into
concrete shape many of the vague Socialist and Communist
notions that were at the moment floating about in the intel-
lectual atmosphere, and it came to be looked upon by the
young enthusiasts as a sort of informal manifesto of their
new-born faith. It was divided into two parts; in the first
was described a group of students living according to the
new ideas in open defiance of traditional conventionalities,
and in the second was depicted a village organised on the
communistic principles recommended by Fourier. The first
was supposed to represent the dawn of the new era; the
second, the goal to be ultimately attained. When the
authorities discovered the mistake they had committed in
allowing the book to be published, it was at once confiscated
and withdrawn from circulation, whilst the author, after
being tried by the Senate, was exiled to North-Eastern
Siberia and kept there for nearly twenty years.*

With the arrest and exile of Tchernishevski the young
would-be reformers were constrained to recognise that they
had no chance of carrying the Government with them in
their endeavours to realise their patriotic aspirations. Police
supervision over the young generation was increased, and
all kinds of associations, whether for mutual instruction,
mutual aid, or any other purpose, were discouraged or
positively forbidden. And it was not merely in the mind
of the police that suspicion was aroused. In the opinion
of the great majority of moderate, respectable people the
young enthusiasts were becoming discredited. The violently

* Tchernishevski was a man of encyclopaedic knowledge, and specially
conversant with Political Economy. According to the testimony of those who
knew him intimately, he was one of the ablest and most sympathetic men of
his generation. During his exile a bold attempt was made to rescue him, and
very nearly succeeded. A daring youth, disguised as an officer of gendarmes
and provided with forged official papers, reached the place where he was
confined and procured his release, but the officer in charge had vague sus-
picions, and insisted on the two travellers being escorted to the next post-
station by a couple of Cossacks. The rescuer tried to get rid of the escort by
means of his revolver, but he failed in the attempt, and the fugitives were
arrested. In 18S3 Tchernishevski was transferred to the milder climate of
Astrakhan, and in 1889 he was allowed to return to his native town, Sardtov,
where he died a few months afterwards.

THE TERM "NIHILIST" INVENTED 6ii

seditious proclamations with which they were supposed to
sympathise, and a series of destructive fires in St. Peters-
burg, erroneously attributed to them, frightened timid
Liberals and gave the Reactionaries, who had hitherto
remained silent, an opportunity of preaching their doctrines
with telling effect. The celebrated novelist, Turgeniev, long
the idol of the young generation, had inadvertently, in
"Fathers and Children," invented the term Nihilist, and
it at once came to be applied as an opprobrious epithet,
notwithstanding the efforts of Pissarev, a popular writer of
remarkable talent, to prove to the public that it ought to be
regarded as a term of honour.

Pissarev's defence of Nihilism made no impression
outside of his own small circle. According to popular
opinion the Nihilists were a band of fanatical young men
and women, mostly medical students, who had determined
to turn the world upside down and to introduce a new kind
of social order, founded on the most advanced principles of
social equality and Communism. As a first step towards
the great transformation they had reversed the traditional
order of things in the matter of coiffure: the males allowed
their hair to grow long, and the female adepts cut their hair
short, adding occasionally the additional badge of blue
spectacles. Their unkempt appearance naturally shocked
the esthetic feelings of ordinary people, but to this they
w'ere indifferent. They had raised themselves above the level
of popular notions, took no account of so-called public
opinion, gloried in Bohemianism, despised Philistine respect-
ability, and rather liked to scandalise old-fashioned people
imbued with antiquated prejudices.

This was the ridiculous side of the movement, but under-
neath the absurdities there was something serious. These
young men and women, w-ho w'ere themselves terribly in
earnest, were systematically hostile, not only to accepted
conventionalities in the matter of dress, but to all manner
of shams, hypocrisy, and cant in the broad Carlylean sense
of those terms. To the "beautiful souls " of the older genera-
tion, who had habitually, in conversation and literature, shed
pathetic tears over the defects of Russian social and political
organisation without ever moving a finger to correct them

6i2 RUSSIA

— especially the landed proprietors who talked and wrote
about civilisation, culture, and justice while living comfort-
ably on the revenues provided for them by their unfortunate
serfs — they had the strongest aversion ; and this naturally
led them to condemn in strong language the worship of
cBsthetic culture. But here again they fell into exaggeration.
Professing extreme utilitarianism, they explained that the
humble shoemaker who practises his craft diligently is, in
the true sense, a greater man than a Shakespeare or a Goethe,
because humanity has more need of shoes than of dramas
and poetry.

Such silly paradoxes provoked, of course, merely a smile
of compassion ; what alarmed the sensible, respectable
"Philistine" was the method of cleansing the Augean stable
recommended by these enthusiasts. Having discovered in
the course of their desultory reading that most of the ills that
flesh is heir to proceed directly or indirectly from uncon-
trolled sexual passion and the lust of gain, they proposed
to seal hermetically these two great sources of crime and
misery by abolishing the old-fashioned institutions of
marriage and private property. When society, they argued,
would be so organised that all the healthy instincts of
human nature could find complete and untrammelled satis-
faction, there would be no motive or inducement for commit-
ting crimes or misdemeanours. For thousands of years
humanity had been sailing on a wrong tack. The great
lawgivers of the world, religious and civil, in their ignor-
ance of physical science and positivist methods, had created
institutions, commonly known as law and morality, which
were utterly unfitted to human nature, and then the magis-
trate and the moralist had endeavoured to compel or persuade
men and women to conform to them, but their efforts had
failed most signally. In vain the police had threatened and
punished, and the priests had preached and admonished.
Human nature had systematically and obstinately rebelled,
and was still rebelling, against the unnatural constraint. It
was time, therefore, to try a new system. Instead of continu-
ing, as had been done for thousands of years, to force men and
women, as it were, into badly fitting, unelastic clothes which
cause intense discomfort and prevent all healthy muscular

CHARACTER OF THE NIHILISTS 613

action, why not adapt the costume to the anatomy and
physiology of the human frame ? Then the clothes would no
longer be rent, and those who wore them would be contented
and happy.

Unfortunately for the progress of humanity, there were
serious obstacles in the way of this radical change of system.
The absurd, antiquated and pernicious institutions and
customs were supported by abstruse metaphysical reasons and
enshrined in mystical, romantic sentiment, and in this way
they might still be preserved for generations unless the axe
were laid to the root of the tree. Now, it was said, is the
critical moment. Russia must be made to rise at once from
the metaphysical to the positivist stage of intellectual develop-
ment; metaphysical reasoning and romantic sentiment must
be rigorously discarded ; and everything must be brought to
the touchstone of naked practical utility.

One might naturally suppose that men holding such
opinions must be materialists of the grossest type — and,
indeed, many of them gloried in the name of materialist and
atheist — but such an inference would be erroneous. While
denouncing metaphysics, they were themselves meta-
physicians in so far as they were constantly juggling with
abstract conceptions, and letting themselves he guided in
their walk and conversation by a priori deductions ; while
ridiculing romanticism, they had romantic sentiment enough
to make them sacrifice their time, their property, and some-
times even their life, to the attainment of an unrealisable
ideal ; and while congratulating themselves on having
passed from the religious to the positivist stage of intellectual
development, they frequently showed themselves animated
with the spirit of the early martyrs !

Rarely have the strange inconsistencies of human nature
been so strikingly exemplified as in these unpractical, anti-
religious fanatics. In dealing with them I might easily,
without very great exaggeration, produce a most amusing
caricature, but I prefer describing them as they really were.
A few years after the period here referred to I knew some
of them intimately, and I must say that, without at all
sharing or svmpathising with their opinions, I could not
help respecting them as honourable, upright, quixotic men

6i4 RUSSIA

and women who had made great sacrifices for their con-
victions. One of them whom I have specially in view at
this moment, suffered patiently for years from the utter ship-
wreck of his generous illusions, and when he could no longer
hope to see the dawn of a brighter day, he ended by commit-
ting suicide. Yet that man believed himself to be a realist,
a materialist, and a utilitarian of the purest water, and
habitually professed a scathing contempt for every form of
romantic sentiment ! In reality he was personally one of the
best and most sympathetic men I have ever known.

To return from this digression. So long as the sub-
versive opinions were veiled in abstract language, they
raised misgivings in only a comparatively small circle; but
when school-teachers put them into a form suited to the
juvenile mind, they were apt to produce startling effects. In
a satirical novel of the time a little girl is represented as
coming to her mother and saying, "Little mamma! Maria
Ivan'na, our new schoolmistress, says there is no God and
no Tsar, and that it is wrong to marry ! " Whether such
incidents actually occurred in real life, as several friends
assured me, I am not prepared to say, but certainly people
believed that they might occur in their own families, and
that was quite sufBcient to produce alarm even in the ranks
of the Liberals, to say nothing of the rapidly increasing
army of the Reactionaries.

To illustrate the general uneasiness produced in St.
Petersburg, I may quote here a letter written in October,
1861, by a man who occupied one of the highest positions
in the Administration. As he had the reputation of being
an ultra-Radical who sympathised overmuch with Young
Russia, we may assume that he did not take an exceptionally
alarmist view of the situation : —

"You have not been long absent — merely a few months; but if
you returned now, you would be astonished by the progress which
the Opposition, one might say the Revolutionary Party, has already
made. The disorders in the University do not concern merely the
students. I see in the affair the beginning of serious dangers for
public tranquillity and the existing order of things. Young people,
without distinction of costume, uniform and origin, take part in the
street demonstrations. Besides the students of the University there

GENERAL UNEASINESS 615

are the students of other institutions, and a mass of people who are
students only in name. Among these last are certain gentlemen in
long beards and a number of revolutionnaires in crinoline, who are
of all the most fanatical. Blue collars — the distinguishing mark
of the students' uniform — have become the signe de ralliement.
Almost all the professors and many officers take the part of the
students. The newspaper critics openly defend their colleagues.
Mikhailov has been convicted of writing, printing and circulating
one of the most violent proclamations that ever existed, under the
heading, ' To the young generation ! ' Among the students and
the men of letters there is unquestionably an organised conspiracy,
which has perhaps leaders outside the literary circle. . . . The
police are powerless. They arrest anyone they can lay hands on.
About eighty people have been already sent to the fortress and
examined, but all this leads to no practical result, because the
revolutionary ideas have taken possession of all classes, all ages, all
professions, and are publicly expressed in the streets, in the barracks,
and in the Ministries. I believe the police itself is carried away
by them ! What this will lead to, it is difficult to predict. I am
very much afraid of some bloody catastrophe. Even if it should
not go to such a length immediately, the position of the Government
will be extremely difficult. Its authority is shaken, and all are
convinced that it is powerless, stupid and incapable. On that point
there is the most perfect unanimity among all parties of all colours,
even the most opposite. The most desperate ' planter'* agrees in that
respect with the most desperate Socialist. Meanwhile, those who
have the direction of affairs do almost nothing, and have no definite
aim in view. At present the Emperor is not in the capital, and now,
more than at any other time, there is complete anarchy in the absence
of the master of the house. There is a great deal of bustle and talk,
and all blame they know not whom."t

The expected revolution did not take place, but timid
people had no difficulty in perceiving signs of its approach.
The Press continued to disseminate, under a more or less
disguised form, ideas which were considered dangerous.
The Kolokol, a Russian revolutionary paper published in
London by Herzen and strictly prohibited by the Press
censure, found its way in large quantities into the country,
and, as is recorded in an earlier chapter, was read by
thousands, including the higher officials and the Emperor

* An epithet commonly applied, at the time of the Emancipation, to the
partisans of serfage and the defenders of the proprietors' rights.

t I found this interesting letter thirty-five years ago among the private
papers of Nicholas Miliitin, who played a leading part as an ofiicial in the
reforms of the time.

6i6 RUSSIA

himself, who found it regularly on his writing-table, laid
there by some unknown hand. In St. Petersburg, the
arrest of Tchernishevski and the suspension of his maga-
zine, the Contemporary, made the writers a little more
cautious in their mode of expression, but the spirit of their
articles remained unchanged. These energetic, intolerant
leaders of public opinion were novi homines not personally
connected with the social strata in which moderate views
and retrograde tendencies had begun to prevail. Mostly
sons of priests or of petty officials, they belonged to a
recently created literary proletariat, composed of young
men with boundless aspirations and meagre material re-
sources, who earned a precarious subsistence by journalism
or by giving lessons in private families. Living habitually
in a world of theories and unrestrained by practical ac-
quaintance with public life, they were ready, from the purest
and most disinterested motives, to destroy ruthlessly the
existing order of things in order to realise their crude
notions of social regeneration. Their heated imagination
showed them in the near future a New Russia, com-
posed of independent federated Communes, without any
bureaucracy or any central power — a happy land in which
everybody virtuously and automatically fulfilled his public
and private duties, and in which the policemen and all
other embodiments of material constraint were wholly
superfluous.

Governments are not easily converted to Utopian schemes
of that idyllic type, and it is not surprising that even a
Government with liberal humanitarian aspirations like that
of Alexander II. should have become alarmed and should
have attempted to stem the current. What is to be regretted
is that the repressive measures adopted were a little too
Oriental in their character. Scores of young students of
both sexes — for the Nihilist army included a strong female
contingent — were secretly arrested and confined for months
in unwholesome prisons, and many of them were finally
exiled, without any regular trial, to distant provinces in
European Russia or to Siberia. Their exile, it is true,
was not at all so terrible as is commonly supposed, because
political exiles are not usually confined in prisons or com-

EXILED FOR THE FAITH 617

pelled to labour in the mines, but are obliged merely to
reside at a given place under police supervision. Still,
such punishment was severe enough for educated young
men and women, especially when their lot was cast among
a population composed exclusively of peasants and small
shopkeepers or of Siberian aborigines, and where there
were no means of satisfying the most elementary intellectual
wants. For those who had no private resources the punish-
ment was particularly severe, because the Government
granted merely a miserable monthly pittance, hardly
sufficient to purchase food of the coarsest kind, and there
was rarely an opportunity of adding to the meagre official
allowance by intellectual or manual labour. In all cases the
treatment accorded to the exiles wounded their sense of
justice and increased the existing discontent among their
friends and acquaintances. Instead of acting as a deterrent,
the system produced a feeling of profound indignation
against the authorities, and ultimately transformed not a
few sentimental dreamers into active conspirators.

At first there was no conspiracy or regularly organised
secret society, and nothing of which the criminal law in
Western Europe could have taken cognisance. Students
met in each other's rooms to discuss prohibited books on
political and social science, and occasionally short essays
on the subjects discussed were written in a revolutionary
spirit by members of the coterie. This was called mutual
instruction. Between the various coteries or groups there
were private personal relations, not only in the capital, but
also in the provinces, so that manuscripts and printed papers
could be transmitted from one group to another. From time
to time the police captured these academic disquisitions, and
made raids on the meetings of students who had come
together merely for conversation and discussion ; and the
fresh arrests caused by these incidents increased the hostility
to the Government.

In the letter above quoted it is said that the revolutionary
ideas had taken possession of all classes, all ages, and all
professions. This may have been true with regard to St.
Petersburg, but it could not have been said of the provinces.
There the landed proprietors were in a very different frame
u*

6i8 RUSSIA

of mind. They had to struggle with a multitude of urgent
practical affairs which left them little time for idyllic dream-
ing about an imaginary millennium. Their serfs had been
emancipated, and what remained to them of their estates had
to be reorganised on the basis of free labour. Into the semi-
chaotic state of things created by such far-reaching changes,
legal and economic, they did not wish to see any more con-
fusion introduced, and they did not at all feel that they
could dispense with the Central Government and the police-
man. On the contrary, the Central Government was urgently
needed in order to obtain a little ready money wherewith
to reorganise the estates in the new conditions, and the
police organisation required to be strengthened in order to
compel the emancipated serfs to fulfil their legal obligations.
These men and their families were, therefore, much more
conservative than the class commonly designated "the
young generation," and they naturally sympathised with the
"Philistines" in St. Petersburg who had been alarmed by
the exaggerations of the Nihilists.

Even the landed proprietors, however, were not so
entirely free from discontent and troublesome political
aspirations as the Government would have desired. They
had not forgotten the autocratic and bureaucratic way in
which the Emancipation had been prepared, and their
indignation had been only partially appeased by their being
allowed to carry out the provisions of the law without much
bureaucratic interference. So much for their discontent.
'As for their reform aspirations, they thought that, as a
compensation for having consented to the liberation of their
serfs and for having been expropriated from about a half
of their land, they ought to receive extensive political rights,
and be admitted, like the upper classes in Western Europe,
to a fair share in the government of the country. Unlike
the fiery young Nihilists of St. Petersburg, they did not
want to abolish or paralyse the central power; what they
wanted was to co-operate with it loyally, and to give their
advice on important questions by means of representative
institutions. They formed a constitutional group so moderate
in its aims that it might have been used as a convenient
safety-valve for the explosive forces which were steadily

THE POLISH INSURRECTION 619

accumulating under the surface of society, but it never
found favour in the official world. When some of its lead-
ing members ventured to hint in the Press and in loyal
addresses to the Emperor that the Government would do
well to consult the country on important questions, their
respectful suggestions were coldly received or bluntly
rejected by the bureaucracy and the Autocratic Power.

The more the revolutionary and constitutional groups
sought to strengthen their position, the more pronounced
became the reactionary tendencies in the official world, and
these received in 1863 an immense impetus from the Polish
insurrection, with which the Nihilists and even some of
the Liberals sympathised. The students of the St. Peters-
burg University, for example, scandalised their more
patriotic fellow-countrymen by making a pro-Polish demon-
stration.

That ill-advised attempt on the part of the Poles to
recover their independence had a curious effect on Russian
public opinion. Alexander IL, with the warm approval of
the more Liberal section of the educated classes, was in the
course of creating for Poland almost complete administra-
tive autonomy under the viceroyalty of a Russian Grand
Duke; and the Emperor's brother Constantine was preparing
to carry out the scheme in a generous spirit. Soon it
became evident that what the Poles wanted was not adminis-
trative autonomy, but political independence, with the
frontiers which existed before the first partition I Trusting
to the expected assistance of the Western Powers and the
secret connivance of Austria, they raised the standard of
insurrection, and some trifling successes were magnified by
the pro-Polish Press into important victories. As the news
of the rising spread over Russia, there was a moment of
hesitation. Those who had been for some years habitually
extolling liberty and self-government as the normal con-
ditions of progress, who had been sympathising warmly with
every Liberal movement, whether at home or abroad, and
who had put forward a voluntary federation of independent
Communes as the ideal State-organism, could not well frown
on the political aspirations of the Polish patriots. The
Liberal sentiment of that time was so extremely philosophical

620 RUSSIA

and cosmopolitan that it hardly distinguished between Poles
and Russians, and liberty was supposed to be the birthright
of every man and woman, to whatever nationality they might
happen to belong. But underneath these beautiful artificial
clouds of cosmopolitan Liberal sentiment lay the volcano
of national patriotism, dormant for the moment, but by no
means extinct. Though the Russians are in some respects
the most cosmopolitan of European nations, they are at the
same time capable of indulging in violent outbursts of
patriotic fanaticism ; and events in Warsaw brought into
hostile contact these two contradictory elements in the
national character.

The struggle was only momentary. Ere long the patriotic
feelings gained the upper hand and crushed all cosmopolitan
sympathy with political freedom. The Moscow Gazette, the
first of the papers to recover its mental equilibrium, thun-
dered against the pseudo-Liberal sentimentalism which
would, if unchecked, necessarily lead to the dismemberment
of the Empire ; and its editor, Katkov, became for a time
the most influential private individual in the country. A
few, indeed, remained true to their convictions. Herzen,
for instance, wrote in the Kolokol a glowing panegyric on
two Russian officers who had refused to fire on the insur-
gents; and here and there a good Orthodox Russian might
be found who confessed that he was ashamed of Muraviev's
extreme severity in Lithuania. But such men were few, and
they were commonly regarded as traitors, especially after
the ill-advised diplomatic intervention of the Western
Powers. Even Herzen, by his publicly expressed sympathy
with the insurgents, lost entirely his popularity and influence
among his fellow-countrymen. The great majority of the
public thoroughly approved of the severe, energetic measures
adopted by the Government, and when the insurrection was
suppressed, men who had a few months previously spoken
and written in magniloquent terms about humanitarian
Liberalism joined in the ovations offered to Muraviev ! At
a great dinner given in his honour, that ruthless adminis-
trator of the old Muscovite type, who had systematically
opposed the emancipation of the serfs and had never con-
cealed his contempt for the Liberal ideas in fashion, could

PRACTICAL REFORMS 621

ironically express his satisfaction at seeing around him so
many "new friends " ! *

This revulsion of public feeling gave the Moscow Slavo-
phils an opportunity of again preaching their doctrine that
the safety and prosperity of Russia were to be found, not
in the Liberalism and Constitutionalism of Western Europe,
but in patriarchal autocracy, Eastern Orthodoxy, and the
peculiarities of Russian nationality. Thus the reactionary
tendencies gained ground; but Alexander IL, while causing
all political agitation to be repressed, did not at once abandon
his policy of introducing radical reforms by means of the
Autocratic Power. On the contrary, he gave orders that
the preparatorv work for creating local self-government and
reorganising the Law Courts should be pushed on energetic-
ally. The important laws for the establishment of the
Zemstvo and for the great judicial reforms, which I have
described in previous chapters, both date from the year 1864.

These and other reforms of a less important kind made
no impression on the young irreconcilables. A small group
of them, under the leadership of a certain Ishutin, formed
in Moscow a small secret society, and conceived the design
of assassinating the Emperor, in the hope that his son and
successor, who was erroneously supposed to be imbued with
ultra-Liberal ideas, might continue the work which his
father had begun and had not the courage to complete. In
April, 1866, the attempt on the life of the Emperor was
made by a youth called Karak6zov as his Majesty was leaving
a public garden in St. Petersburg, but the bullet happily
missed its mark, and the culprit was executed.

This incident formed a turning-point in the policy of
the Government. Alexander II. began to fear that he had
gone too far, or, at least, too quickly, in his policy of radical
reform. An Imperial rescript announced that law, property,
and religion were in danger, and that the Government would
lean on the Noblesse and other conservative elements of

* In fairness to Count Muraviev I must say that he was not so black as
he was painted in the Polish and West-European Press. He left an interesting
autobiographical fragment relating to the history of this time, but it is not
likely to be printed for some years. As an historical document it is valuable,
but must be used with caution by the future historian. A copy of it was for
some time in my possession, but I was bound by a promise not to make
extracts.

622 RUSSIA

Society. The two periodicals which advocated the most
advanced views {Sovremennik and Russkoye Slovo) were
suppressed permanently, and precautions were taken to
prevent the annual assemblies of the Zemstvo from giving
public expression to the aspirations of the moderate Liberals.

A secret official inquiry showed that the revolutionary
agitation proceeded in all cases from young men who were
studying, or had recently studied, in the universities, the
seminaries, or the technical schools, such as the Medical
Academy and the Agricultural Institute. Plainly, there-
fore, the system of education was at fault. The semi-military
system of the time of Nicholas had been supplanted by one
in which discipline was reduced to a minimum and the study
of natural science formed a prominent element. Here, it
was thought, lay the chief root of the evil.

Englishmen may have some difficulty in imagining a
possible connection between natural science and revolutionary
agitation. To them the two things must seem wide as the
poles asunder. Surely mathematics, chemistry, physiology,
and similar subjects have nothing to do with politics.
When a young Englishman takes to studying any branch
of natural science, he gets up his subject by means of
lectures, text-books, and museums or laboratories, and when
he has mastered it, he probably puts his knowledge to some
practical use. In Russia it is otherwise. Few students con-
fine themselves to their speciality. The majority of them
dislike the laborious work of mastering dry details, and with
the presumption which is often found in conjunction with
youth and a smattering of knowledge, they aspire to become
social reformers, and imagine themselves specially qualified
for such activity.

But what, it may be asked, has social reform to do with
natural science? I have already indicated the connection in
the Russian mind. Though very few of the students of
that time had ever read the voluminous works of Auguste
Comte, they were all more or less imbued with the spirit
of the Positivist Philosophy, in which all the sciences are
subsidiary to sociology, and social reorganisation is the
ultimate object of scientific research. The imaginative
Positivist can see with prophetic eye Humanity reorganised

CHANGE IN EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM 623

on strictly scientific principles. Cool-headed people who
have had a little experience of the world, if they ever indulge
in such delightful dreams, recognise clearly that this ultimate
goal of human intellectual activity, if it is ever to be reached,
is still a long way off in the misty distance of the future;
but the would-be social reformers among the Russian
students of the 'sixties were too young, too inexperienced,
and too presumptuously self-confident to recognise this
plain, simple truth. They felt that too much valuable time
had been already lost, and they were madly impatient to
begin the great work without further delay. As soon as they
had acquired a smattering of chemistry, physiology, and
biology, they imagined themselves capable of reorganising
human society from top to bottom, and when they had
acquired this conviction they were of course unfitted for
the patient, plodding study of details.

To remedy these evils. Count Dimitri Tolstoy, who was
regarded as a pillar of Conservatism, was appointed
Minister of Public Instruction, with the mission of protect-
ing the young generation against pernicious ideas, and
eradicating from the schools, colleges, and universities all
revolutionary tendencies. He determined to introduce more
discipline into all the educational establishments, and to
supplant to a certain extent the superficial study of natural
science by the thorough study of the classics — that is to say,
Latin and Greek. This scheme, which became known before
it was actually put into execution, produced a storm of
discontent in the young generation. Discipline at that time
was regarded as an antiquated and useless remnant of
patriarchal tyranny, and young men who were impatient to
take part in social reorganisation resented being treated as
naughty schoolboys. To them it seemed that the Latin
grammar was an ingenious instrument for stultifying youth-
ful intelligence, destroying intellectual development, and
checking political progress. Ingenious speculations about
the possible organisation of the working classes and gran-
diose views of the future of humanity are so much more
interesting and agreeable than the rules of Latin syntax
and the Greek irregular verbs !

Count Tolstoy could congratulate himself on the efficacy

624 RUSSIA

of his administration, for from the time of his appointment
there was a lull in the political excitement. During three
or four years there was only one political trial, and that an
insignificant one ; whereas there had been twenty between
1861 and 1864, and all more or less important. I am not
at all sure, however, that the educational reform, which
created much momentary irritation and discontent, had
anything to do with the improvement in the situation. In
any case, there were other and more potent causes at work.
The excitement was too intense to be long-lived, and the
fashionable theories too fanciful to stand the wear and tear
of everyday life. They evaporated, therefore, with amazing
rapidity when the leaders of the movement had disappeared
— Tchernishevski and others by exile, and Dobrolubov and
Pissarev by death — and when among the less prominent
representatives of the young generation many succumbed
to the sobering influences of time and experience or drifted
into lucrative professions. Besides this, the reactionary
currents were making themselves felt, especially since the
attempt on the life of the Emperor. So long as these had
been confined to the official world they had not much affected
the literature, except externally through the Press-censure,
but when they permeated the reading public their influence
was much stronger. Whatever the cause, there is no doubt
that, in the last years of the 'sixties, there was a subsidence
of excitement and enthusiasm, and the peculiar intellectual
phenomenon which had been nicknamed Nihilism was sup-
posed to be a thing of the past. In reality, the movement
of which Nihilism was a prominent manifestation had merely
lost something of its academic character, and was entering
on a new stage of development.

CHAPTER XXXV

SOCIALIST PROPAGANDA, REVOLUTIONARY AGITATION, AND
TERRORISM

Count Tolstoy's educational reform had one effect which
was not anticipated : it brought the revolutionists into closer
contact with Western Socialism. Many students, finding
their position in Russia uncomfortable, determined to go
abroad and continue their studies in foreign universities,
where they would be free from the inconveniences of police
supervision and Press-censure. Those of the female sex had
an additional motive to emigrate because they could not
complete their studies in Russia, but they had more difficulty
in carrying out their intention, because parents naturally
disliked the idea of their daughters going abroad to lead a
Bohemian life, and they very often obstinately refused to
give their consent. In such cases the persistent daughter
found herself in a dilemma. Though she might run away
from her family and possibly earn her own living, she could
not easily cross the frontier without a passport ; and without
the parental sanction a passport could not be obtained. Of
course she might marry and get the consent of her husband,
but most of these young ladies objected to the trammels of
matrimony. Occasionally the problem was solved by means
of a fictitious marriage, and when a young man could not
be found to co-operate voluntarily in the arrangement, the
terrorist methods which the revolutionists adopted a few
years later for other purposes might be employed. I have
heard of at least one case in which an ardent female devotee
of medical science threatened to shoot a student who was
going abroad if he did not submit to the matrimonial
ceremony and allow her to accompany him to the frontier
as his official wife !

Strange as this story may seem, it contains nothing
inherently improbable. At that time the energetic young

625

626 RUSSIA

ladies of the Nihilist school were not to be diverted from
their purposes by trifling obstacles. We shall meet some
of them hereafter, displaying great courage and tenacity in
revolutionary activity. One of them, as I have already men-
tioned, attempted to murder the Prefect of St. Petersburg,
and another, a young person of considerable refinement and
great personal charm, gave the signal for the assassination
of Alexander II., and expiated her crime on the scaffold
without the least sign of repentance.

Most of the studious emigres of both sexes went to Ziirich,
where female students were admitted to the medical classes.
Here they made the acquaintance of noted Socialists from
various countries who had settled in Switzerland, and being
in search of panaceas for social regeneration, they naturally
fell under their influence. At the same time they read with
avidity the works of Proudhon, Lassalle, Biichner, Marx,
Flerovski, Pfeiffer and other writers of "advanced" opinions.

Among the apostles of Socialism living at that time in
Switzerland, they found a sympathetic fellow-countryman
in the famous Anarchist Bakunin, who had succeeded in
escaping from Siberia. His ideal was the immediate over-
throw of all existing Governments, the destruction of all
administrative organisation, the abolition of all bourgeois
institutions, and the establishment of an entirely new order
of things on the basis of a free federation of productive
Communes, in which all the land should be distributed
among those capable of tilling it and the instruments of
production confided to co-operative associations. Efforts to
obtain mere political reforms, even of the most radical type,
were regarded by him with contempt as miserable pallia-
tives, which could he of no real, permanent benefit to the
masses, and might be positively injurious by prolonging
the present era of bourgeois domination.

For the dissemination of these principles a special organ
called The Cause of the People {Narodnoye Dyelo) was
founded in Geneva in 1868 and was smuggled across the
Russian frontier in considerable quantities. It aimed at
drawing away the young generation from Academic Nihilism
to more practical revolutionary activity, but it evidently
remained to some extent under the old influences, for it

YOUNG RUSSIA AND SOCIALISM 627

indulged occasionally in very abstract philosophical dis-
quisitions. In its first number, for example, it published a
programme in which the editors thought it necessary to
declare that they were materialists and atheists, because the
belief in God and a future life, as well as every other kind
of idealism, demoralises the people, inspiring it with
mutually contradictory aspirations, and thereby depriving
it of the energy necessary for the conquest of its natural
rights in this world, and the complete organisation of a free
and happy life. At the end of two years this organ for
moralising the people collapsed from want of funds, but
other periodicals and pamphlets were printed, and the
clandestine relations between the exiles in Switzerland and
their friends in St. Petersburg were maintained without
difficulty, notwithstanding the efforts of the police to cut the
connection. In this way Young Russia became more and
more saturated with the extreme Socialist theories current in
Western Europe.

Thanks partly to this foreign influence and partly to
their own practical experience, the would-be reformers who
remained at home came to understand that academic talking
and discussing could bring about no serious results.
Students alone, however numerous and however devoted to
the cause, could not hope to overthrow or coerce the Govern-
ment. It was childish to suppose that the walls of the
autocratic Jericho could be overthrown by the blasts of
academic trumpets. Attempts at revolution could not be
successful without the active support of the people, and
consequently the revolutionary agitation must be extended
to the masses.

So far there was complete agreement among the revolu-
tionists, but with regard to the modus operandi emphatic
differences of opinion appeared. Those who were carried
jiway by the stirring accents of Bakiinin imagined that if
the masses could only be made to feel themselves the victims
of administrative and economic oppression, they would rise
and free themselves by a united effort. According to this
view all that was required was that popular discontent should
be excited and that precautions should be taken to ensure
that the explosions of discontent should take place simul-

628 RUSSIA

taneously all over the country. The rest might safely be
left, it was thought, to the operation of natural forces and
the inspiration of the moment. Against this dangerous
illusion warning voices were raised. Lavr6v, for example,
while agreeing with Bakunin that mere political reforms
were of little or no value, and that any genuine improvement
in the condition of the working classes could proceed only
from economic and social reorganisation, maintained stoutly
that the revolution, to be permanent and beneficial, must
be accomplished, not by demagogues directing the ignorant
masses, but by the people as a whole, after it had been
enlightened and instructed as to its true interests. The
preparatory work would necessarily require a whole genera-
tion of educated propagandists, living among the labouring
population, rural and urban.

For some time there was a conflict between these two
currents of opinion, but the views of Lavrov, which were
simply a practical development of academic Nihilism, gained
far more adherents than the violent anarchical proposals of
Bakunin, and finally the grandiose scheme of realising
gradually the Socialist ideal by indoctrinating the masses was
adopted with enthusiasm. In St. Petersburg, Moscow, and
other large towns, the student associations for mutual instruc-
tion, to which I have referred in the foregoing chapter,
became centres of popular propaganda, and the academic
Nihilists were transformed into active missionaries. Scores
of male and female students, impatient to convert the masses
to the gospel of freedom and terrestrial felicity, sought to
get into touch with the common people by settling in the
villages as school-teachers, medical practitioners, midwives,
etc., or by working as common factory hands in the indus-
trial centres. In order to obtain employment in the factories
and conceal their real purpose, they procured false passports,
in which they were described as belonging to the lower
classes; and even those who settled in the villages lived
generally under assumed names. Thus was formed a class
of professional revolutionists, sometimes called the Illegals,
who were liable to be arrested at any moment by the police.
As compensation for the privations and hardships which
they had to endure, they had the consolation of believing

THE "ILLEGALS" 629

that they were advancing the good cause. The means they
usually employed for making converts were informal con-
versations and pamphlets expressly written for the purpose.
The more enthusiastic and persevering of these missionaries
continued their efforts for months and years, remaining in
communication with the headquarters in the capital or some
provincial town in order to report progress, obtain a fresh
supply of pamphlets, and get their forged passports renewed.

This extraordinary movement was called "going in
among the people," and it spread among the young genera-
tion like an epidemic. In 1873 it was suddenly reinforced
by a detachment of fresh recruits. Over a hundred Russian
students were recalled by the Government from Switzerland,
in order to save them from the baneful influence of Bakunin,
Lavrov, and other noted Socialists, and a large proportion
of them joined the ranks of the propagandists.*

With regard to the aims and methods of the propagan-
dists, a good deal of information was obtained in the course
of a judicial inquiry instituted in 1875. A peasant, who
was at the same time a factory worker, informed the
police that certain persons were distributing revolutionary
pamphlets among the factory hands, and as a proof of what
he said he produced some pamphlets which he had himself
received. This led to an investigation, which showed that
a number of young men and women, evidently belonging
to the educated classes, were disseminating revolutionary
ideas by means of pamphlets and conversation. Arrests
followed, and it was soon discovered that these agitators
belonged to a large secret association, which had its centre
in Moscow, and local branches in Ivanovo, Tula, and Kief.
In Ivanovo, for instance — a manufacturing town about a
hundred miles to the north-east of Moscow — the police found
a small apartment inhabited by three young men and four
young women, all of whom, though belonging by birth to
the educated classes, had the appearance of ordinary factory
workers, prepared their own food, did with their own hands
all the domestic work, and sought to avoid everything
which could distinguish them from the labouring population.

* Instances of " going in among the people " had happened as early as
1864, but they did not become frequent till after 1870.

630 RUSSIA

In the apartment were found 240 copies of revolutionary
pamphlets, a considerable sum of money, a large amount of
correspondence in cipher, and several forged passports.

How many persons the society contained it is impossible
to say, because a large proportion of them eluded the vigil-
ance of the police; but many were arrested, and ultimately
forty-seven were condemned. Of these, eleven were nobles,
seven were sons of parish priests, and the remainder belonged
to the lower classes — that is to say, the small officials,
burghers, and peasants. The average age of the prisoners
was twenty-four, the oldest being thirty-six and the youngest
under seventeen ! Only five or six were over twenty-five,
and none of these were ringleaders. The female element
was represented by no less than fifteen young persons, whose
ages were on an average under twenty-two. Two of these,
to judge by their photographs, were of refined, prepossessing
appearance, and seemingly little fitted for taking part in
wholesale massacres such as the society talked of organising.

The character and aims of the society were clearly
depicted in the documentary and oral evidence produced at
the trial. According to the fundamental principles, there
should exist among the members absolute equality, complete
mutual responsibility and full frankness and confidence with
regard to the affairs of the association. Among the con-
ditions of admission we find that the candidate should devote
himself entirely to revolutionary activity; that he should
be ready to sever all ties, whether of friendship or of love,
for the good cause; that he should possess great powers of
self-sacrifice and the capacity for keeping secrets; and that
he should consent to become, when necessary, a common
labourer in a factory. The desire to maintain absolute
equality is well illustrated by the article of the statutes
regarding the administration : the office-bearers are not to
be chosen by election, but all members are to be office-bearers
in turn, and the term of office must not exceed one month !

The avowed aim of the society was to destroy the existing
social order, and to replace it by one in which there should
be no private property and no distinctions of class or wealth ;
or, as it is expressed in one document, "to found on the
ruins of the present social organisation the Empire of the

"PROPAGANDA" AND "AGITATION" 631

working classes." The means to be employed were indicated
in a general way, but each member was to adapt himself to
circumstances, and was to devote all his energies to forward-
ing the cause of the revolution. For the guidance of the
inexperienced, the following means were recommended :
simple conversations, dissemination of pamphlets, the excit-
ing of discontent, the formation of organised groups, the
creation of funds and libraries. These, taken together,
constitute, in the terminology of revolutionary science,
"propaganda," and thereafter comes "agitation." The
technical distinction between these two processes is that
propaganda has a purely preparatory character, and aims
merely at enlightening the masses regarding the true
nature of the revolutionary cause, whereas agitation aims at
exciting an individual or a group to acts which are con-
sidered, in the existing regime, as illegal. In time of peace
"pure agitation " was to be carried on by means of organised
bands which should frighten the Government and the
privileged classes, draw away the attention of the authorities
from less overt kinds of revolutionary action, raise the spirit
of the people and thereby render it more accessible to revolu-
tionary ideas, obtain pecuniary means for further activity,
and liberate political prisoners. In time of insurrection the
members should give to popular movements every assistance
in their power, and impress on them a Socialistic character.
The central administration and the local branches should
establish relations with publishers, and take steps to secure
a regular supply of prohibited books from abroad. Such
are a few characteristic extracts from a document which
might fairly be called a treatise on revolutionology.

As a specimen of the revolutionary pamphlets circulated
by the propagandists and agitators I may give here a brief
account of one which is well known to the political police.
It is entitled Khitraya Mekhdnika (Cunning Machinery), and
gives a graphic picture of the ideas and methods employed.
The mise en scene is extremely simple. Two peasants,
Step^n and Andrei, are represented as meeting in a gin-shop
and drinking together. Stepan is described as good and
kindly when he has to do with men of his own class, but
very sharp-tongued when speaking with a foreman or

632 RUSSIA

manager. Always ready with an answer, he can on occa-
sion silence even an official ! He has travelled all over the
Empire, has associated with all sorts and conditions of men,
sees everything most clearly, and is, in short, a very remark-
able man. One of his excellent qualities is that, being
"enlightened" himself, he is always ready to enlighten
others, and he now finds an opportunity of displaying his
powers.

When Andrei, who is still unenlightened, proposes that
they should drink another glass of vodka, he replies that the
Tsar, together with the nobles and traders, bars the way
to his throat. As his companion does not understand this
metaphorical language, he explains that if there were no
Tsars, nobles, or traders, he could get five glasses of vodka
for the sum that he now pays for one glass. This naturally
suggests wider topics, and Stepan gives something like a
lecture. The common people, he explains, pay by far the
greater part of the taxation, and at the same time do all
the work ; they plough the fields, build the houses and
churches, work in the mills and factories, and in return they
are systematically robbed and beaten. And what is done
with all the money that is taken from them ? First of all,
the Tsar gets nine millions of roubles — enough to feed half
a province — and with that sum he amuses himself, has
hunting-parties, feasts, eats, drinks, makes merry, and lives
in stone houses. He gave liberty, it is true, to the peasants ;
but we know what the Emancipation really was. The best
land was taken away and the taxes were increased, lest the
muzhik should get fat and lazy. The Tsar is himself the
richest landed proprietor and manufacturer in the country.
He not only robs us as much as he pleases, but he has
sold into slavery (by forming a national debt) our children
and grandchildren. He takes our sons as soldiers, shuts
them up in barracks so that they should not see their brother
peasants, and hardens their hearts so that they become wild
beasts, ready to rend their parents. The nobles and traders
likewise rob the poor peasants. In short, all the upper
classes have invented a bit of cunning machinery by which
the muzhik is made to pay for their pleasures and luxuries.

The people, however, will one day rise and break this

THE MASSES AND SOCIALISM 633

machinery to pieces. When that day comes they must break
every part of it, for if one bit escapes destruction, all the
other parts of it will immediately grow up again. All the
force is on the side of the peasants, if they only knew how
to use it. Knowledge will come in time. They will then
destroy this machine, and perceive that the only real remedy
for all social evils is brotherhood. People should live like
brothers, having no mine and thine, but all things in
common. When we have created brotherhood, there will
be no riches and no thieves, but right and righteousness
without end. In conclusion, Stepan addresses a word to "the
torturers": "W^hen the people rise, the Tsar will send
troops against us, and the nobles and capitalists will stake
their last rouble on the result. If they do not succeed, they
must not expect any quarter from us. They may conquer
us once or twice, but we shall at last get our own, for there
is no power that can withstand the whole people. Then we
shall cleanse the country of our persecutors, and establish a
brotherhood in which there will be no mine and thine, but
all will work for the common weal. We shall construct no
cunning machinery, but shall pluck up evil by the roots,
and establish eternal justice ! "

The above-mentioned distinction between Propaganda
and Agitation, which plays a considerable part in revolu-
tionary literature, had at that time more theoretical than
practical importance. The great majority of those who took
an active part in the movement confined their efforts to
indoctrinating the masses with Socialistic and subversive
ideas, and sometimes their methods were rather childish.
As an illustration I may cite an amusing incident related
by one of the boldest and most tenacious of the revolutionists,
who subsequently acquired a certain sense of humour. He
and a friend were walking one day on a country road, when
they were overtaken by a peasant in his cart. Ever anxious
to sow the good seed, they at once entered into conversation
with the rustic, telling him that he ought not to pay his
taxes, because the tchinovniks robbed the people, and trying
to convince him by quotations from Scripture that he ought
to resist the authorities. The prudent muzhik whipped up
his horse and tried to get out of hearing, but the two zealots

634 RUSSIA

ran after him and continued the sermon till they were com-
pletely out of breath. Other propagandists were more
practical, and preached a species of agrarian Socialism
which the rural population could understand. At the time
of the Emancipation, the peasants were convinced, as I have
mentioned in a previous chapter, that the Tsar meant to
give them all the land, and to compensate the landed pro-
prietors by salaries. Even when the law was read and
explained to them, they clung obstinately to their old con-
victions, and confidently expected that the real emancipation
would be proclaimed shortly. Taking advantage of this
state of things, the propagandists to whom I refer confirmed
the peasants in their error, and sought in this way to sow
discontent against the proprietors and the Government.
Their watchword was "Land and Liberty," and they formed
for a good many years a distinct group, under that title
(Zemlya i Volya, or more briefly Zemlevoltsi).

In the St. Petersburg group, which aspired to direct and
control this movement, there were one or two men who
held different views as to the real object of propaganda and
agitation. One of these. Prince Krapotkin, has told the
world what his object was at that time. He hoped that the
Government would be frightened and that the Autocratic
Power, as in France on the eve of tfie Revolution, would
seek support in the landed proprietors, and call together
a National Assembly. Thus a constitution would be granted,
and though the first Assembly might be conservative in
spirit, autocracy would be compelled in the long run to yield
to parliamentary pressure.

No such elaborate projects were entertained, I believe, by
the majority of the propagandists. Their reasoning was
much simpler: "The Government, having become reaction-
ary, tries to prevent us from enlightening the people; we
will do it in spite of the Government ! " The dangers to
which they exposed themselves only confirmed them in their
resolution. Though they honestly believed themselves to
be realists and materialists, they were at heart romantic
idealists, panting to do something heroic. They had been
taught by the apostles whom they venerated, from Belinski
downwards, that the man who simply talks about the good

FAILURE OF PROPAGANDA 635

of the people, and does nothing to promote it, is among
the most contemptible of human beings. No such reproach
must be addressed to them. If the Government opposed and
threatened, that was no excuse for inactivity. They must be
up and doing. "Forward! forward! Let us plunge into
the people, identify ourselves with them, and work for their
benefit ! Suffering is in store for us, but we must endure
it with fortitude ! " The type which Tchernishevski had
depicted in his famous novel, under the name of Rakhmetov
— the youth who led an ascetic life and subjected himself
to privation and suffering as a preparation for future revolu-
tionary activity — now appeared in the flesh. If we may
credit Bakunin, these Rakhmetovs had not even the con-
solation of believing in the possibility of a revolution, but
as they could not and would not remain passive spectators
of the misfortunes of the people, they resolved to go in
among the masses, in order to share with them fraternally
their sufferings, and at the same time to teach and prepare,
not theoretically, but practically, by their living example.*
This is, I believe, an exaggeration. The propagandists
were, for the most part, of incredibly sanguine temperament.
The success of the propaganda and agitation was not at
all in proportion to the numbers and enthusiasm of those
who took part in it. Most of these displayed more zeal than
mother-wit and discretion. Their Socialism was too abstract
and scientific to be understood by rustics, and when they
succeeded in making themselves intelligible they awakened
in their hearers more suspicion than sympathy. The muzhik
is a very matter-of-fact practical person, totally incapable of
understanding what Americans call "highfiluting " tenden-
cies in speech and conduct, and as he listened to the
preaching of the new gospel, doubts and questionings
spontaneously rose in his mind: "What do those young
people, who betray their gentle-folk origin by their delicate
white hands, their foreign phrases, their ignorance of the
common things of everyday peasant life, really want? Why
are they bearing hardships and taking so much trouble?
They tell us it is for our good, but we are not such fools

* Bakunin : Gosudarstvennost' i AnarUhiya (State-organisation and An-
archy). Zurich, 1873.

636 RUSSIA

and simpletons as they take us for. They are not doing it
all for nothing. What do they expect from us in return ?
Whatever it is, they are evidently evildoers, and perhaps
TYioshenniki (swindlers). Devil take them ! " And thereupon
the cautious muzhik turns his back upon his disinterested,
self-sacrificing teachers, or goes quietly and denounces them
to the police ! It is not only in the pages of Cervantes that
v^e encounter Don Quixotes and Sancho Panzas !

Occasionally a worse fate befell the missionaries. If they
allowed themselves, as they sometimes did, to "blaspheme"
against religion or the Tsar, they ran the risk of being mal-
treated on the spot. I have heard of one case in which the
punishment for blasphemy was applied by sturdy peasant
matrons. Even when the propagandists escaped such mis-
haps they had not much reason to congratulate themselves
on their success. After three years of arduous labour the
hundreds of apostles could not boast of more than a score
or two of converts among the genuine working classes, and
even these few did not all remain faithful unto death.
Some of them, however, it must be admitted, laboured and
suffered to the end with the courage and endurance of
true martyrs.

It was not merely the indifference or hostility of the
masses that the propagandists had to complain of. The
police soon got on their track, and did not confine themselves
to persuasion and logical arguments. Towards the end of
1873 they arrested some members of the central directing
group in St. Petersburg, and in the following May they
discovered in the province of Saratov an affiliated organisa-
tion with which nearly 800 persons were connected, about
one-fifth of them belonging to the female sex. A few came
of well-to-do families — sons and daughters of minor officials
or small landed proprietors — but the great majority were
poor students of humbler origin, a large contingent being
supplied by the sons of the poor parish clergy. In other
provinces the authorities made similar discoveries. Before
the end of the year a large proportion of the propagandists
were in prison, and the centralised organisation, so far as
such a thing existed, was destroyed. Gradually it dawned
on the minds even of the Don Quixotes that pacific propa-

A SPLIT IN THE GAMP 637

ganda was no longer possible, and that attempts to continue
it could lead only to useless sacrifices.

For a time there was universal discouragement in the
revolutionary ranks; and among those who had escaped
arrest there were mutual recriminations and endless discus-
sions about the causes of failure and the changes to be made
in modes of action. The practical result of these recrimina-
tions and discussions was that the partisans of a slow, pacific
propaganda retired to the background, and the more im-
patient revolutionary agitators took possession of the
movement. These maintained stoutly that, as pacific pro-
paganda had become impossible, stronger methods must be
adopted. The masses must be organised so as to offer
successful resistance to the Government. Conspiracies must,
therefore, be formed, local disorders provoked, and blood
made to flow. The part of the country which seemed best
adapted for experiments of this kind was the southern and
south-eastern region, inhabited by the descendants of the
turbulent Cossack population which had raised formidable
insurrections under Stenka Razin and Pueratch^v in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Here, then, the more
impatient agitators began their w^ork. A Kief group
called the Buntari (rioters), composed of about twenty-five
individuals, settled in various localities as small shop-
keepers or horse-dealers, or wandered about as workmen
or pedlars.

One member of the group has given us in his Reminis-
cences an amusing account of the experiment. Everywhere
the agitators found the peasants suspicious and inhospitable,
and consequently they had to suffer a great deal of dis-
comfort. Some of them at once gave up the task as hopeless.
The others settled in a village and began operations. Having
made a topographical survey of the locality, they worked out
an ingenious plan of campaign ; but they had no recruits for
the future army of insurrection, and if they had been able
to get recruits, they had no arms for them, and no money
wherewith to purchase arms or anything else. In these
circumstances they gravely appointed a committee to collect
funds, knowing very well that no money would be forth-
coming. It was as if a shipwrecked crew in an open boat,

638 RUSSIA

having reached the brink of starvation, appointed a committee
to obtain a supply of fresh water and provisions ! In the
hope of obtaining assistance from headquarters a delegate
was sent to St. Petersburg and Moscow to explain that for
the arming of the population about a quarter of a million
of roubles was required. The delegate brought back thirty
second-hand revolvers ! The Revolutionist who confesses
all this * recognises that the whole scheme was childishly
unpractical: "We chose the path of popular insurrection
because we had faith in the revolutionary spirit of the masses,
in its power and its invincibility. That was the weak side of
our position ; and the most curious part of it was that we
drew proofs in support of our theory from history — from the
abortive insurrections of Razin and Pugatchev, which took
place in an age when the Government had only a small
regular army and no railways or telegraphs ! We did
not even think of attempting a propaganda among the
military ! "

In the district of Tchigirin the agitators had a little
momentary success, but the result was the same. There a
student called Stefanovitch pretended that the Tsar was
struggling with the officials to benefit the peasantry, and he
showed the simple rustics a forged imperial manifesto in
which they were ordered to form a society for the purpose
of raising an insurrection against the officials, the nobles,
and the priests. At one moment (April, 1877) the society
had about 600 members, but a few months later it was dis-
covered by the police, and the leaders and peasants were
arrested.

When it had thus become evident that propaganda and
agitation were alike useless, and when numerous arrests were
being made daily, it became necessary for the Revolutionists
to reconsider their position, and some of the more moderate
proposed to rally to the Liberals, as a temporary measure.
Hitherto there had been very little sympathy and a good
deal of openly avowed hostility between Liberals and Revolu-
tionists. The latter, convinced that they could overthrow the
Autocratic Power by their own unaided efforts, had looked
askance at Liberalism because they believed that parlia-

* Debogorio-Mokridvitch : Vospominaniya (Reminiscences). Paris, 1894-99.

GENESIS OF TERRORISM 639

mentary discussions and party struggles would impede
rather than facilitate the advent of the Socialist millennium,
and strengthen the domination of the bourgeoisie without
really improving the condition of the masses. Now, how-
ever, when the need of allies was felt, it seemed that con-
stitutional government might be used as a stepping-stone
for reaching the Socialist ideal, because it must grant a
certain liberty of the Press and of association, and it would
necessarily abolish the existing autocratic system of arrest-
ing, imprisoning and exiling, on mere suspicion, without
any regular form of legal procedure. As usual, an appeal
was made to history, and arguments were easily found in
favour of this course of action. The past of other nations
had shown that in the march of progress there are no sudden
leaps and bounds, and it was therefore absurd to imagine,
as the Revolutionists had hitherto done, that Russian Auto-
cracy could be swallowed by Socialism at a gulp. There
must always be periods of transition, and it seemed that
such a transition period might now be initiated. Liberalism
might be allowed to destroy, or at least weaken. Autocracy,
and then it might be destroyed in its turn by Socialism of
the most advanced type.

Having adopted this theory of gradual historic develop-
ment, some of the more practical Revolutionists approached
the more advanced Liberals and urged them to more energetic
action ; but before anything could be arranged, the more
impatient Revolutionists — ^notably the group called the
NarodovoUsi (National-will-ists) — intervened, denounced
what they considered an unholy alliance, and proposed a
policy of terrorism by which the Government might be
frightened into a more conciliatory attitude. Their idea was
that the ofificials who displayed most zeal against the revolu-
tionary movement should be assassinated, and that every
act of severity on the part of the Administration should be
answered by an act of "revolutionary justice."

As it was evident that the choice between these two
courses of action must determine in great measure the future
character and ultimate fate of the movement, there was much
discussion between the two groups ; but the question did
not long remain in suspense. Soon the extreme party gained

640 RUSSIA

the upper hand, and the Terrorist policy was adopted. I
shall let the Revolutionists themselves explain this momen-
tous decision. In a long proclamation published some years
later it is explained thus : —

" The revolutionary movement in Russia began with the so-called
'going in among the people.' The first Russian Revolutionists thought
that the freedom of the people could be obtained only by the people
itself, and they imagined that the only thing necessary was that
the people should absorb Socialistic ideas. To this it was supposed
that the peasantry were naturally inclined, because they already
possessed, in the Rural Commune, institutions which contained the
seeds of Socialism, and which might serv-e as a basis for the reconstruc-
tion of society according to Socialist principles. The propagandists
hoped, therefore, that in the teachings of West-European Socialism the
people would recognise its own instinctive creations in riper and
more clearly defined forms, and that it would joyfully accept the
new teaching.

" But the people did not understand its friends, and showed itself
hostile to them. It turned out that institutions bom in slavery could
not serve as a foundation for the new construction, and that the
man who was yesterday a serf, though capable of taking part in
disturbances, was not fitted for conscious revolutionary work. With
pain in their hearts the Revolutionists had to confess that they were
deceived in their hopes of the people. Around them were no social
revolutionary forces on which they could lean for support, and yet
they could not reconcile themselves with the existing state of violence
and slavery. Thereupon awakened a last hope — the hope of a drown-
ing man who clutches at a straw : a little group of heroic and self-
sacrificing individuals might accomplish with their own strength the
difficult task of freeing Russia from the yoke of autocracy. They
had to do it themselves, because there was no other means. But
would they be able to accomplish it ? For them that question did
not exist. The struggle of that little group against autocracy was
like the heroic means on which a doctor decides when there is no
longer any hope of the patient's recovery. Terrorism was the only
means that remained, and it had the advantage of giving a natural
vent to pent-up feelings, and of seeming a reaction against the cruel
persecutions of the Government. The party called the Narodnaya
Volya (National Will) was accordingly formed, and during several
years the world witnessed a spectacle that had never been seen
before in history. The Narodnaya Volya, insignificant in numbers
but strong in spirit, engaged in single combat the powerful Russian
Government. Neither executions, nor imprisonment with hard labour,
nor ordinary imprisonment and exile, could destroy the energy of
these Revolutionists. Under their shots fellj one after the other,

RELATIONS TO THE REVOLUTIONISTS 641

the most zealous and typical representatives of arbitrary action and
violence. . . ."

It was at this time, in 1877, when propaganda and
agitation among the masses were being abandoned for the
system of terrorism, but before any assassinations had taken
place, that I accidentally came into personal relations with
some prominent adherents of the revolutionary movement.
One day a young man of sympathetic appearance, whom I
did not know and who brought no credentials, called on me
in St. Petersburg and suggested to me that I might make
public through the English Press what he described as a
revolting act of tyranny and cruelty committed by General
Trepov, the Prefect of the city. That official, he said, in
visiting recently one of the prisons, had noticed that a young
political prisoner called Bogoliibov did not salute him as
he passed, and he had ordered him to be flogged in conse-
quence. To this I replied that I had no reason to disbelieve
the story, but that I had equally no reason to accept it as
accurate, as it rested solely on the evidence of a person with
whom I was totally unacquainted. My informant took the
objection in good part, and offered me the names and
addresses of a number of persons who could supply me with
any proofs that I might desire.

At his next visit I told him I had seen several of the
persons he had named, and that I could not help perceiving
that they were closely connected with the revolutionary move-
ment. I then went on to suggest that as the sympathisers
with that movement constantly complained that they were
systematically misrepresented, calumniated and caricatured,
the leaders ought to give to the world an accurate account
of their real doctrines, and in this respect I should be glad
to assist them. Already I knew something of the subject,
because I had many friends and acquaintances among the
sympathisers, and had often had with them interminable
discussions. With their ideas, so far as I knew them, I felt
bound to confess that I had no manner of sympathy, but I
flattered myself, and he himself had admitted, that I was
capable of describing accurately and criticising impartially
doctrines with which I did not agree. My new acquaintance,
whom I may call Dimitri Ivan'itch, was pleased with the

V

642 RUSSIA

proposal, and after he had consulted with some of his friends,
we came to an agreement by which I should receive all the
materials necessary for writing an accurate account of the
doctrinal side of the movement. With regard to any con-
spiracies that might be in progress, I warned him that he
must be strictly reticent, because if I came accidentally to
know of any terrorist designs I should consider it my duty
to warn the authorities. For this reason I declined to attend
any secret conclaves, and it was agreed that I should be
instructed without being initiated.

The first step in my instruction was not very satisfactory
or encouraging. One day Dimitri Ivan'itch brought me a
large manuscript, which contained, he said, the real doctrines
of the Revolutionists and the explanation of their methods.
I was surprised to find that it was written in English, and I
perceived at a glance that it was not at all what I wanted.
As soon as I had read the first sentence I turned to my friend
and said :

"I am very sorry to find, Dimitri Ivan'itch, that you
have not kept your part of the bargain. We agreed, you
may remember, that we were to act towards each other in
absolutely good faith, and here I find a flagrant bit of bad
faith in the very first sentence of the manuscript which you
have brought me. The document opens with the statement
that a large number of students have been arrested and
imprisoned for distributing books among the people. That
statement may be true according to the letter, but it is
evidently intended to mislead. These youths have been
arrested, as you must know, not for distributing ordinary
books, as the memorandum suggests, but for distributing
books of a certain kind. I have read some of them, and I
cannot feel at all surprised that the Government should
object to their being put into the hands of the ignorant
masses. Take, for example, the one entitled Khitraya
Mekhdnika, and others of the same type. The practical
teaching they contain is that the peasants should be ready
to rise and cut the throats of the landed proprietors and
officials. Now, a wholesale massacre of the kind may or
may not be desirable in the interests of society, and justifi-
able according to some new code of higher morality. That

SHADOWERS AND SHADOWED 643

is a question into which I do not enter. All I maintain is
that the writer of this memorandum, in speaking of ' books,'
meant to mislead me."

Dimitri Ivan'itch looked puzzled and ashamed. "Forgive
me," he said; "I am to blame — not for having attempted to
deceive you, but for not having taken precautions. I have
not read the manuscript, and I could not if I wished, for it
is written in English, and I know no language but my
mother-tongue. My friends ought not to have done this.
Give me back the paper, and I shall take care that nothing
of the sort occurs in future."

This promise was faithfully kept, and I had no further
reason to complain. Dimitri Ivan'itch gave me a consider-
able amount of information, and lent me a valuable collection
of revolutionary pamphlets. Unfortunately the course of
tuition was suddenly interrupted by unforeseen circum-
stances, which I may mention as characteristic of life in St.
Petersburg at the time. My servant, an excellent young
Russian, more honest than intelligent, came to me one morn-
ing with a mysterious air, and warned me to be on my guard,
because there were "bad people" going about. On being
pressed a little, he explained to me what he meant. Two
strangers had come to him, and after ofifering him a few
roubles had asked him a number of questions about my
habits — at what hour I went out and came home, what
persons called on me, and much more of the same sort.
"They even tried, sir, to get into your sitting-room; but of
course I did not allows them. I believe they want to rob
you ! "

It was not difficult to guess who these "bad people "
were, who took such a keen interest in my doings, and
who wanted to examine my apartment in my absence. Any
doubts I had on the subject were soon removed. On the
morrow and following days I noticed that w^henever I went
out, and wherever I might walk or drive, I was closely
followed by two unsympathetic-looking individuals — so
closely that when I turned round sharp they ran into me.
The first and second times this little incident occurred they
received a strong volley of unceremonious vernacular; but
when we became better acquainted we simply smiled at each

644 RUSSIA

other knowingly, as the old Roman augurs are supposed to
have done when they met in public unobserved. There was
no longer any attempt at concealment or mystification. I
knew I was being shadowed, and the shadowers could not
help perceiving that I knew it. Yet, strange to say, they
were never changed !

The reader probably assumes that the secret police had
somehow got wind of my relations with the Revolutionists.
Such an assumption presupposes on the part of the police
an amount of intelligence and perspicacity which they do not
usually possess. On this occasion they were on an entirely
wrong scent, and the very day when I first noticed my
shadowers a high official, who seemed to regard the whole
thing as a good joke, told me confidentially what the wrong
scent was. At the instigation of an ex-ambassador, from
whom I had the misfortune to differ in matters of foreign
policy, the Moscow Gazette had denounced me publicly by
name as a person who was in the habit of visiting daily
the Ministry of Foreign Affairs — doubtless with the nefarious
purpose of obtaining by illegal means secret political in-
formation— and the police had concluded that I was a fit
and proper person to be closely watched. In reality, my
relations with the Russian Foreign Office, though incon-
venient to the ex-ambassador, were perfectly regular and
above-board — sanctioned, in fact, by Prince Gortchakov —
but the indelicate attentions of the secret police were none
the less extremely unwelcome, because some intelligent
police-agent might get on to the real scent, and cause me
serious inconvenience, I determined, therefore, to break off
all relations with Dimitri Ivan'itch and his friends, and
postpone my studies to a more convenient season ; but that
decision did not entirely extricate me from my difficulties.
The collection of revolutionary pamphlets was still in my
possession, and I had promised to return it. For some little
time I did not see how I could keep my promise without
compromising myself or others, but at last — after having had
my shadowers carefully shadowed in order to learn accurately
their habits, and having taken certain elaborate precautions,
with which I need not trouble the reader, as he is not likely
ever to require them — I paid a visit secretly to Dimitri

TERRORIST GRIMES 645

Ivan 'itch in his small room, almost destitute of furniture,
handed him the big parcel of pamphlets, warned him not to
visit me again, and bade him farewell.

Thereupon we went our separate ways, and I saw him
no more. Whether he subsequently played a leading part
in the movement I never could ascertain, because I did not
know his real name ; but if the conception which I formed
of his character was at all accurate, he probably ended his
career in Siberia, for he was not a man to look back after
having put his hand to the plough. That is a peculiar trait
of the Russian Revolutionists of the period in question.
Their passion for realising an impossible ideal was incurable.
Many of them were again and again arrested ; and as soon
as they escaped, or were liberated, they almost invariably
went back to their revolutionary activity, and w'orked
energetically until they again fell into the clutches of the
police.

From this digression into the sphere of personal reminis-
cences I return now, and take up again the thread of the
narrative.

We have seen how the propaganda and the agitation
had failed, partly because the masses showed themselves
indifferent or hostile, and partly because the Government
adopted vigorous repressive measures. We have seen, too,
how the leaders found themselves in face of a formidable
dilemma ; either they must abandon their schemes or they
must attack their persecutors. The more energetic among
them, as I have already stated, chose the latter alternative,
and they proceeded at once to carry out their policy. In the
course of a single year (February, 1878, to February, 1879)
a whole series of terrorist crimes were committed ; in Kiev,
an attempt was made on the life of the Public Prosecutor,
and an officer of gendarmerie was stabbed; in St. Petersburg
the Chief of the Political Police of the Empire (General
Mezentsev) was assassinated in broad daylight in one of
the central streets, and a similar attempt was made on his
successor (General Drenteln); at Kharkov the Governor
(Prince Krapotkin) was shot dead when entering his resi-
dence. During the same period two members of the
revolutionary organisation, accused of treachery, were

646 RUSSIA

"executed " by order of local Committees. In most cases
the perpetrators of the crimes contrived to escape. One of
them became well known in Western Europe as an author
under the pseudonym of Stepniak.

Terrorism had not the desired effect. On the contrary,
it stimulated the zeal and activity of the authorities, and in
the course of the winter of 1878-9 hundreds of arrests — some
say as many as 2,000 — were made in St. Petersburg alone.
Driven to desperation, the Revolutionists still at large
decided that it was useless to assassinate mere officials; the
fons et origo mail must be reached; a blow must be struck
at the Tsar himself ! The first attempt was made by a young
man called Solovy^v, who fired several shots at Alexander
II. as he was walking near the Winter Palace, but none of
them took effect.

This policy of aggressive terrorism did not meet with
universal approval among the Revolutionists, and it was
determined to discuss the matter at a Congress of delegates
from various local circles. The meetings were held in June,
1879, two months after Solovyev's unsuccessful attempt, at
two provincial towns, Lipetsk and Voronezh. It was there
agreed in principle to confirm the decision of the terrorist
Narodovoltsi. As the Liberals were not in a position to
create liberal institutions or to give guarantees for political
rights, which were the essential condition of any Socialist
agitation, there remained for the revolutionary party no
other course than to destroy the despotic autocracy. There-
upon a programme of action was prepared, and an Executive
Committee elected. From that moment, though there were
still many who preferred milder methods, the Terrorists had
the upper hand, and they at once proceeded to centralise the
organisation and to introduce stricter discipline, with greater
precautions to ensure secrecy.

The Executive Committee imagined that autocracy might
be destroyed by assassinating the Tsar, and several carefully
planned attempts were made. The first plan was to wreck
the Emperor's special train when the Imperial family were
returning to St. Petersburg from the Crimea. Mines were
accordingly laid at three separate points, but they all failed.
At the last of the three points (near Moscow) a train was

A DYNAMITE PLOT 647

blown up, but it was not the one in which the Imperial
family was travelling.

Not at all discouraged by this failure, nor by the dis-
covery of its secret printing-press by the police, the Executive
Committee next tried to attain its object by an explosion of
dynamite in the Winter Palace at the hour when the Imperial
family usually assembled at dinner. The execution was en-
trusted to a certain Halturin, one of the few Revolutionists
of peasant origin. As an exceptionally clever carpenter and
polisher he easily found regular employment in the palace,
and he contrived to make a rough plan of the building. This
plan, on which the dining hall was marked with an ominous
red cross, fell into the hands of the police, and they made
what they considered a careful investigation, but they failed to
unravel the plot and did not discover the dynamite, concealed
in the carpenters' sleeping quarters. Halturin showed
wonderful coolness while the search was going on, and con-
tinued to sleep every night on the explosive, though it caused
him excruciating headaches. When he was assured by the
chemist of the Executive Committee that the quantity
collected was sufficient, he exploded the mine at the usual
dinner-hour, and contrived to escape uninjured.* In the
guard-room immediately above the spot where the dynamite
was exploded ten soldiers were killed and fifty-three wounded,
and in the dining-hall the floor was wrecked, but the Imperial
family escaped in consequence of not sitting down to dinner
at the usual hour.

For this barbarous act the Executive Committee publicly
accepted full responsibility. In a proclamation placarded in
the streets of St. Petersburg it declared that, while regretting
the death of the soldiers, it was resolved to carry on the
struggle with the Autocratic Power until the social reforms
should be entrusted to a Constituent Assembly, composed of
members freely elected and furnished with instructions from
their constituents.

Finding police-repression so ineffectual, Alexander II.
determined to try the effect of conciliation, and for this

* After living some time in Rumania he returned to Russia under the name
of StepAnov, and in 1882 he was tried and executed for complicity in the
assassination of General Streinikov.

648 RUSSIA

purpose he placed General Loris Melikov at the head of the

Government, with semi-dictatorial powers (February, 1880).

The experiment did not succeed. By the Terrorists it was

regarded as "a hypocritical Liberalism outwardly and a

veiled brutality within," while in the official world it was

condemned as an act of culpable weakness on the part of

the autocracy. One consequence of it was that the Executive

Committee was encouraged to continue its efforts, and, as

the authorities became less vigilant, it was enabled to improve

the revolutionary organisation. In a circular sent to the

affiliated provincial associations it explained that the only

source of legislation must be the national will,* and as the

Government would never accept such a principle, its hand

must be forced by a great popular insurrection, for which

all available forces should be organised. The peasantry, as

experience had shown, could not yet be relied on, but efforts

should be made to enrol the workmen of the towns. Great

importance was now attached to propaganda in the army ; but

as few conversions had been made among the rank and file,

attention was to be directed chiefly to the officers, who would

be able to carry their subordinates with them at the critical

moment.

While thus recommending the scheme of destroying
autocracy by means of a popular insurrection in the distant
future, the Committee had not abandoned more expeditious
methods, and it was at that moment hatching a plot for the
assassination of the Tsar. During the winter months his
Majesty was in the habit of holding on Sundays a small
parade in the riding-school near the Michael Square in St.
Petersburg. On Sunday, March 3rd, 1881, the streets by
which he usually returned to the Palace had been undermined
at two places, and on an alternative route several conspirators
were posted with hand-grenades concealed under their great-
coats. The Emperor chose the alternative route. Here, at
a signal given by Sophia Perovski, the first grenade was
thrown by a student called Ryssak6v, but it merely wounded
some members of the escort. The Emperor stopped and got
out of his sledge, and as he was making inquiries about the

• Hence the designation NarodovoUsi (which, as we have seen, means
literally National-will-ists), adopted by this section of the revolutionaries.

ASSASSINATION OF ALEXANDER II. 649

wounded soldiers, a second grenade was thrown by a youth
called Grinevitski, with fatal effect. Alexander II. was
conveyed hurriedly to the Winter Palace, and died almost
immediately.

By this act the members of the Executive Committee
proved their energy and their talent as conspirators, but
they at the same time showed their short-sightedness and
their political incapacity ; for they had made no preparations
for immediately seizing the power which they so ardently
coveted — with the intention of using it, of course, entirely
for the public good. If the facts w^ere not so well authen-
ticated, we might dismiss the whole story as incredible. A
group of young people, certainly not more than thirty or
forty in number, without any organised material force behind
them, without any influential accomplices in the army or
the official world, without any prospect of support from the
masses, and with no plan for immediate action after the
assassination, deliberately provoked the crisis for which they
were so hopelessly unprepared. It has been suggested that
they expected the Liberals to seize the supreme power, but
this explanation is evidently an afterthought, because they
knew that the Liberals were as unprepared as themselves,
and they regarded them at that time as dangerous rivals.
Besides this, the explanation is quite irreconcilable with the
proclamation issued by the Executive Committee immediately
afterwards. The most charitable way of explaining the con-
duct of the conspirators is to suppose that they were actuated
more by blind hatred of the autocracy and its agents than by
political calculations of a practical kind — that they acted
simply like a wounded bull in the arena, which shuts its
eyes and recklessly charges its tormentors.

The murder of the Emperor had not at all the effect which
the Narodovoltsi anticipated. On the contrary, it destroyed
their hopes of success. Many people of liberal convictions
who sympathised vaguely with the revolutionary movement
without taking part in it, and who did not condemn very
severely the attacks on police officials, were horrified when
they found that the would-be reformers did not spare even
the sacred person of the Tsar ! At the same time, the police
officials, who had become lax and inefficient under the

V*

650 RUSSIA

conciliatory regime of Loris M^likov, recovered their old zeal,
and displayed such inordinate activity that the revolutionary
organisation was paralysed and in great measure destroyed.
Six of the regicides were condemned to death, and five of
them publicly executed, amongst the latter Sophia Perovski,
one of the most active and personally sympathetic personages
among the Revolutionists. Scores of those who had taken
an active part in the movement were in prison or in exile.
For a short time the propaganda was continued among
military and naval officers, and various attempts at reorgani-
sation, especially in the southern provinces, were made, but
they all failed. A certain Degaiev, who had taken part in
the formation of military circles, turned informer, and aided
the police. By his defection a considerable number of
officers, and also Vera Filipov, a young person of remarkable
ability and courage, who was the leading spirit in the
attempts at reorganisation, were arrested. From time to
time the leaders living abroad sent emissaries to revive the
propaganda, but these efforts were all fruitless.

One of the active members of the revolutionary party,
Leo Deutsch, who has since published his Memoirs, relates
how the tide of revolution ebbed rapidly at this time. "Both
in Russia and abroad," he says, "I had seen how the earlier
enthusiasm had given way to scepticism ; men had lost faith,
though many of them would not allow that it was so. It was
clear to me that a reaction had set in for many years." Of
the attempts to resuscitate the movement he says: "The
untried and unskilfully managed societies were run to earth
before they could undertake anything definite, and the unity
and interdependence which characterised the original band
of members had disappeared." With regard to the want of
unity, another prominent revolutionist (Maslov) wrote to a
friend (Dragomdnov) at Geneva in 1882 in terms of bitter
complaint. He accused the Executive Committee of trying
to play the part of chief of the whole revolutionary party,
and declared that its centralising tendencies were more
despotic than those of the Government. Distributing orders
among its adherents without initiating them into its plans,
it insisted on unquestioning obedience. The Socialist youth,
ardent adherents of Federalism, were indignant at this treat-

REACTION FROM TERRORISM 651

ment, and began to understand that the Committee used them
simply as chair a canon. The writer described in vivid
colours the mutual hostility which reigned among various
fractions of the party, and which manifested itself in accusa-
tions and even in denunciations; and he predicted that the
Narodnaya Volya, which had organised the various acts of
terrorism, culminating in the assassination of the Emperor,
would never develop into a powerful revolutionary party.
It had sunk into the slough of untruth, and it could only
continue to deceive the Government and the public.

In the mutual recriminations several interesting admis-
sions were made. It was recognised that neither the educated
classes nor the common people were capable of bringing
about a revolution : the former were not numerous enough,
and the latter were devoted to the Tsar and did not sym-
pathise with the revolutionary movement, though they might
perhaps be induced to rise at a moment of crisis. It was
considered doubtful whether such a rising was desirable,
because the masses, being insufficiently prepared, might turn
against the educated minority. In no case could a popular
insurrection attain the object which the Socialists had in
view, because the power would either remain in the hands
of the Tsar — thanks to the devotion of the common people
— or it would fall into the hands of the Liberals, who would
oppress the masses worse than the autocratic Government
had done. Further, it was recognised that acts of terrorism
were worse than useless, because they were misunderstood
by the ignorant, and tended to inflame the masses against
the leaders. It seemed necessary, therefore, to return to the
pacific propaganda. Tikhomirov, who was nominally direct-
ing the movement from abroad, became utterly discouraged,
and wrote in 1884 to one of his emissaries in Russia
(Lopatin) : "You now see Russia, and can convince yourself
that it does not possess the material for a vast work of
reorganisation. ... I advise you seriously not to make
superhuman efforts, and not to make a scandal in attempt-
ing the impossible. ... If you do not want to satisfy
yourself with trifles, come away and await better times."

In examining the material relating to this period one
sees clearly that the revolutionary movement had got into a

652 RUSSIA

vicious circle. As pacific propaganda had become impos-
sible, in consequence of the opposition of the authorities
and the vigilance of the police, the Government could be
overturned only by a general insurrection; but the general
insurrection could not be prepared without pacific propa-
ganda. As for terrorism, it had become discredited.
Tikhomirov himself came to the conclusion that the terrorist
idea was altogether a mistake, not only morally, but also
from the point of view of political expediency. A party,
he explained, has either the force to overthrow the Govern-
ment, or it has not ; in the former case it has no need of
political assassination, and in the latter the assassinations
have no effect, because Governments are not so stupid as to
let themselves be frightened by those who cannot overthrow
them. Plainly there was nothing to be done but to wait
for better times, as he had suggested, and the better times
did not seem to be within measurable distance. He himself,
after publishing a brochure entitled "Why I Ceased to be
a Revolutionist," made his peace with the Government, and
others followed his example. In one prison nine made
formal recantations, among them EmiliAnov, who held a
reserve bomb ready when Alexander II. was assassinated.

Occasional acts of terrorism showed that there was still
fire under the smouldering embers, but such acts were few
and far between. The last serious incident of the kind
during this period was the regicide conspiracy of Sheviry^v
in March, 1887. The conspirators, carrying the bombs,
were arrested in the principal street of St. Petersburg, and
five of them were hanged. The railway accident of Borki,
which happened in the following year, and in which the
Imperial family had a very narrow escape, ought perhaps
to be added to the list, because there is reason to believe that
it was the work of Revolutionists.

By this time all the cooler heads among the Revolu-
tionists, especially those who were living abroad in personal
safety, had come to understand that the Socialist ideal could
not be attained by popular insurrection, terrorism, or con-
spiracies, and consequently that further activity on the old
lines was absurd. Those of them who did not abandon the
enterprise in despair reverted to the idea that the Autocratic

A CHANGE OF TACTICS 653

Power, impregnable against frontal attacks, might be
destroyed by prolonged siege operations. This change of
tactics is reflected in the revolutionary literature. In 1889,
for example, the editor of the Svobodnaya Rossia declared
that the aim of the movement now was political freedom —
not only as a stepping-stone to social reorganisation, but as
a good in itself. This is, he explains, the only revolution
possible at present in Russia. "For the moment there can
be no other immediate practical aim. Ulterior aims are not
abandoned, but they are not at present within reach. . . .
The Revolutionists of the 'seventies and the 'eighties did
not succeed in creating among the peasantry or the town
workmen anything which had even the appearance of a force
capable of struggling with the Government; and the Revolu-
tionists of the future will have no greater success until they
have obtained such political rights as personal inviolability.
Our immediate aim, therefore, is a National Assembly con-
trolled by local self-government, and this can be brought
about only by a union of all the revolutionary forces."

There were still indications, it is true, that the old spirit
of terrorism was not yet quite extinct : Captain Zolotykhin,
for example, an officer of the Moscow secret police, was
assassinated by a female revolutionist in i8go. But such
incidents were merely the last fitful sputterings of a lamp
that was going out for want of oil. In 1892 Stepniak declared
it evident to all that the professional Revolutionists could
not alone overthrow autocracy, however great their energy
and heroism ; and he arrived at the same conclusion as the
writer just quoted. After reviewing the situation as a whole,
he says: "It is only from the evolutionist's point of view
that the struggle with autocracy has a meaning. From any
other standpoint it must seem a sanguinary farce— a mere
exercise in the art of self-sacrifice ! " Such are the conclu-
sions arrived at in 1892 by a man who had been in 1878 one
of the leading Terrorists, and who had with his own hand
assassinated General Mezentsev, Chief of the Political Police.

Thus the revolutionary movement, after passing through
four stages, which I may call the academic, the propagandist,
the insurrectionary, and the terrorist, had failed to accom-
plish its object. One of those who had taken an active part

654 RUSSIA.

in it, and who, after spending two years in Siberia as a
political exile, escaped and settled in Western Europe, could
write thus: "Our revolutionary movement is dead, and we
who are still alive stand by the bier of our beautiful
departed, and discuss what is wanting in her. One of us
thinks that her nose might be improved ; another suggests
a change in her chin or her hair. We do not notice the
essential, that what our beautiful departed wants is life ; that
it is not a matter of hair or eyebrows, but of a living soul,
which formerly concealed all defects and made her beautiful,
and which now has flown away. Any changes and improve-
ments which we may imagine are utterly insignificant in
comparison with what is really wanting, and what we cannot
give; for who can breathe a living soul into a corpse? "

In truth, the movement which I have endeavoured to
describe was at an end ; but another movement, having the
same ultimate object, was coming into existence, and it
constitutes one of the essential factors of the present situa-
tion. Some of the exiles in Switzerland and Paris had
become acquainted with the Social Democratic and Labour
movements in Western Europe, and they believed that the
strategy and tactics employed in these movements might be
adopted in Russia. How far they have succeeded in carrying
out this policy, I shall relate presently ; but before entering
on this subject I must explain how the application of such
a policy had been rendered possible by changes in the
economic conditions. Russia had begun to create rapidly
a great manufacturing industry and an industrial proletariat.
This will form the subject of the next chapter.

CHAPTER XXXVI

INDUSTRIAL PROGRESS AND THE PROLETARIAT

Fifty years ago Russia was still essentially a peasant
Empire, living by agriculture of a primitive type, and
supplying her other wants chiefly by home industries, as
was the custom in Western Europe during the Middle Ages.

For many generations her rulers had been trying to
transplant into their wide dominions the arts and crafts
of the West, but they had formidable difficulties to contend
with, and their success was not nearly so great as they
desired. W^e know that as far back as the fourteenth century
there were cloth-workers in Moscow, for we read in the
chronicles that the workshops of these artisans were sacked
when the town was stormed by the Tartars. Workers in
metal also had appeared in some of the larger towns by that
time, but they do not seem to have risen much above the
level of ordinary blacksmiths. They were destined, however,
to make more rapid progress than other classes of artisans,
because the old Tsars of Muscovy, like other semi-barbarous
potentates, admired and envied the industries of more
civilised countries mainly from the military point of view.
What they wanted most was a plentiful supply of good arms
wherewith to defend themselves and attack their neighbours,
and it was to this object that their most strenuous efforts
were directed.

As early as 1475 Ivan III., the grandfather of Ivan the
Terrible, sent a delegate to Venice to seek out for him an
architect who, in addition to his own craft, knew how to
make guns; and in due course appeared in the Kremlin a
certain Muroli, called Aristotle by his contemporaries on
account of his profound learning. He undertook "to build
churches and palaces, to cast big bells and cannons, to fire
off the said cannons, and to make every sort of castings
very cunningly"; and for the exercise of these various arts

655

656 RUSSIA

it was solemnly stipulated in a formal document that he
should receive the modest salary of ten roubles monthly.
With regard to the military products, at least, the Venetian
faithfully fulfilled his contract, and in a short time the Tsar
had the satisfaction of possessing a "cannon-house," sub-
sequently dignified with the name of "arsenal." Some of
the natives learned the foreign art, and just over a century
later (1586) a Russian, or at least a Slav, called Tchekhov,
produced a famous "Tsar-cannon," weighing as much as
96,000 lbs.

The connection thus established with the mechanical arts
of the West was always afterwards maintained, and we find
frequent notices of the fact in contemporary writers. In the
reign of the grandfather of Peter the Great, for example,
two paper-works were established by an Italian ; and velvet
for the Tsar and his Boydrs, gold brocades for ecclesiastical
vestments, and rude kinds of glass for ordinary purposes
were manufactured under the august patronage of the
enlightened ruler. His son Alexis went a good many steps
farther, and scandalised his God-fearing Orthodox subjects
by his love of foreign heretical inventions. It was in his
German suburb of Moscow that young Peter, who was to
become "the Great," made his first acquaintance with the
useful arts of the West.

When the great reformer came to the throne he found
in his Tsardom, besides many workshops, some ten
foundries, all of which were under orders "to cast cannons,
bombs, and bullets, and to make arms for the service of
the State." This seemed to him only a beginning, especially
for the mining and iron industry, in which he was particu-
larly interested. By importing foreign artificers and placing
at their disposal big estates, wath numerous serfs, in the
districts where minerals were plentiful, and by carefully
stipulating that these foreigners should teach his subjects
well, and conceal from them none of the secrets of the craft,
he created in the Ural a great iron industry, which still
exists at the present day. Finding by experience that State
mines and State ironworks were a heavy drain on his
insufficiently filled treasury, he transferred some of them
to private persons, and this policy was followed occasion-

THE WOOLLEN INDUSTRY 657

ally by his successors. Hence the gigantic fortunes of the
Demidovs and other families. The Shuvalovs, for example,
in 1760 possessed, for the purpose of working their mines
and ironworks, no less than 33,000 serfs and a correspond-
ing amount of land. Unfortunately, the concessions were
generally given, not to enterprising business men, but to
influential Court dignitaries, who confined their attention
to squandering the revenues, and not a few of the mines
and works reverted to the Government.

The army required not only arms and ammunition, but
also uniforms and blankets. Great attention, therefore, was
paid to the woollen industry from the reign of Peter down-
wards. In the time of Catherine there were already 120
cloth factories, but they were on a very small scale, accord-
ing to modern conceptions. Ten factories in Moscow, for
example, had amongst them only 104 looms, 130 workers,
and a yearly output valued at 200,000 roubles.

While thus largely influenced in its economic policy by
military considerations, the Government did not entirely
neglect other branches of manufacturing industry. Ever
since Russia had pretensions to being a civilised power its
rulers have always been inclined to pay more attention to
the ornamental than the useful — to the varnish rather than
the framework of civilisation — and we need not therefore be
surprised to find that, long before the native industry could
supply the materials required for the ordinary wants of
humble life, attempts were made to produce such things as
Gobelin tapestries. I mention this merely as an illustration
of a characteristic trait of the national character, the influence
of which may be found in many other spheres of official
activity.

If Russia did not attain the industrial level of Western
Europe, it was not from want of ambition and effort on the
part of the rulers. They worked hard, if not always wisely,
for this end. Manufacturers were exempted from rates and
taxes, and even from military service, and some of them,
as I have said, received large estates from the Crown on the
understanding that the serfs should be employed as work-
men. At the same time they were protected from foreign
competition by prohibitive tariffs. In a word, the manufac-

658 RUSSIA

turing industry was nursed and fostered in a way to
satisfy the most thoroughgoing Protectionist, especially
those branches which worked up native raw material such
as oreS; flax, hemp, wool, and tallow. Occasionally the
official interference and anxiety to protect public interests
went farther than the manufacturers desired. On more than
one occasion the authorities fixed the price of certain kinds
of manufactured goods, and in 1754 the Senate, being
anxious to protect the population against fires, ordered all
glass and iron works within a radius of 200 versts around
Moscow to be destroyed ! In spite of such obstacles, the
manufacturing industry as a whole made considerable pro-
gress. Between 1729 and 1762 the number of establishments
officially recognised as factories rose from 26 to 335.

These results did not satisfy Catherine II., who ascended
the throne in 1762. Under the influence of her friends the
French Encyclopedistes, she imagined for a time that the
official control might be relaxed, and that the system of
employing serfs in the factories and foundries might be
replaced by free labour, as in Western Europe; monopolies
might be abolished, and all liege subjects, including the
peasants, might be allowed to embark in industrial under-
takings as they pleased, "for the benefit of the State and
the nation." All this looked very well on paper, but
Catherine never allowed her sentimental Liberalism to injure
seriously the interests of her Empire, and she accordingly
refrained from putting the laisses-faire principle largely into
practice. Though a good deal has been written about her
economic policy, it is hardly distinguishable from that of
her predecessors. Like them, she maintained high tariffs,
accorded large subsidies, and even prevented the export of
raw material, in the hope that it might be worked up at
home; and when the prices in the woollen market rose very
high she compelled the manufacturers to supply the army
with cloth at a price fixed by the authorities. In short, the
old system remained practically unimpaired, and notwith-
standing the steady progress made during the reign of
Nicholas I. (1825-55), when the number of factory hands
rose from 210,000 to 380,000, the manufacturing industry
as a whole continued to be, until the serfs were emancipated

THE COTTON INDUSTRY 659

in 1861, a hothouse plant which could flourish only in an
officially heated atmosphere.

There was one branch of it, however, to which this
remark does not apply. The art of cotton-spinning and
cotton-weaving struck deep root in Russian soil. After
remaining for generations in the condition of a cottage
industry — the yarn being distributed among the peasants,
and worked up by them in their own homes — it began, about
1825, to be modernised. Though it still required to be
protected against foreign competition, it rapidly outgrew the
necessity for direct oflicial support. Big factories driven
by steam-power were constructed, the number of hands
employed rose to 110,000, and the foundations of great
fortunes w-ere laid. Strange to say, many of the future
millionaires were uneducated serfs. Sava Mor6zov, for
example, who was to become one of the industrial magnates
of Moscow, was a serf belonging to a proprietor called
Ryumin ; most of the others were serfs of Count Sheremetyev
— the owner of a large estate on which the industrial town
of Ivanovo had sprung up — who was proud of having
millionaires among his serfs, and who never abused his
authority over them. The great movement, however, was
not effected without the assistance of foreigners. Foreign
foremen were largely employed, and in the work of organi-
sation a leading part was played by a German called Ludwig
Knoop. Beginning life as a commercial traveller for an
English firm, he soon became a large cotton importer, and
when in 1840 a feverish activity was produced in the Russian
manufacturing world by the Government's permission to
import English machines, his firm supplied these machines
to the factories on condition of obtaining a share in the
business. It has been calculated that it obtained in this
way a share in no less than 122 factories, and hence arose
among the peasantry a popular saying :

"Where there is a church, there you find a pope,
And where there is a factory, there you find a Knoop."*

The biggest creation of the firm was a factory built at Narva

* Gdye tserkov — tarn pop ;
A gdye fabrika — tarn Knop.

66o RUSSIA

in 1856, with nearly half a million spindles driven by water-
power.

In the second half of last century a revolution was
brought about in the manufacturing industry generally by
the emancipation of the serfs, the rapid extension of rail-
ways, the facilities for creating limited liability companies,
and by certain innovations in the financial policy of the
Government. The emancipation put on the market an
unlimited supply of cheap labour; the construction of rail-
ways in all directions increased a hundredfold the means of
communication ; and the new banks and other credit insti-
tutions, aided by an overwhelming influx of foreign capital,
encouraged the foundation and extension of industrial and
commercial enterprises of every description. For a time
there was great excitement. It was commonly supposed that
in all matters relating to trade and industry Russia had
suddenly jumped up to the level of Western Europe, and
many people in St. Petersburg, carried away by the prevail-
ing enthusiasm for Liberalism in general and the doctrines
of Free Trade in particular, were in favour of abolishing
Protection as an antiquated restriction on liberty and an
obstacle to economic progress.

At one moment the Government was disposed to yield
to the current, but it was restrained by an influential group
of conservative political economists, who appealed to pat-
riotic sentiment, and by the Moscow manufacturers, who
declared that Free Trade would ruin the country. After a
little hesitation it proceeded to raise, instead of lower,
the Protectionist tariff. In 1869-76 the ad valorem duties
were, on an average, under thirteen per cent., but from that
time onwards they rose steadily until the last five years of
the century, when they averaged thirty-three per cent,, and
were for some articles very much higher. In this way the
Moscow industrial magnates were protected against the influx
of cheap foreign goods, but they were not saved from foreign
competition, for many foreign manufacturers, in order to
enjoy the benefit of the high duties, founded factories in
Russia. Even the firmly established cotton industry suffered
from these intruders. Industrial suburbs containing not a
few cotton factories owned by foreign capitalists sprang up

MINERAL INDUSTRIES 66i

around St. Petersburg; and a small Polish village called
Lodz, near the German frontier, grew rapidly into a pros-
perous town of 400,000 inhabitants, and became a serious
rival to the ancient Muscovite capital. So severely was the
competition of this young upstart felt that the Moscow
merchants petitioned the Emperor to protect them by draw-
ing a customs frontier round the Polish provinces, but their
petition was not granted.

Under the shelter of the high tariffs the manufacturing
industry as a whole has made rapid progress, and the
cotton trade has kept well to the front. At the beginning
of 1909, according to the official reports, the number
of industrial establishments of all kinds under Govern-
ment inspection amounted to 32,601, employing 2,042,115
hands.

The progress of the mineral industries has been not less
remarkable than that of the cotton manufacturers. Originally
confined to the northern parts of the country, they received
about half a century ago a powerful impulse from the dis-
covery that some of the southern provinces, especially the
Don basin, contained in close proximity to each other
enormous quantities of iron ore and large beds of good coal.
Thanks to this discovery, and to other facts of which I shall
have occasion to speak presently, this district, which had
previously been purely agricultural and pastoral, has out-
stripped the famous Ural region, and has become the Black
Country of Russia. The vast lonely Steppe, where formerly
one saw merely peasant-farmers, shepherds, and the
Tchumdk,* driving along somnolently with his big, long-
horned white bullocks, is now dotted over with busy
industrial settlements of mushroom growth and great
ironworks ; while at night the landscape is lit up with the
lurid flames of gigantic blast-furnaces. In this wonderful
transformation, as in the history of Russian industrial
progress generally, a great part was played by foreigners.
The pioneer who did most in this district was a Welshman,
John Hughes, who began life as the son and pupil of a

* The Tchumdk, a familiar figure in the songs and legends of Little Russia,
was the carrier who, before the construction of railways, transported the grain
to the great markets, and brought back merchandise to the interior.

662 RUSSIA

blacksmith, and whose sons are now directors of the biggest
of the South-Russian ironworks.

Much as the South has progressed industrially in recent
years, it still remains far behind those industrial portions
of the country which were thickly settled at an earlier date.
From this point of view the most important region is the
group of provinces clustering round Moscow; next comes
the St. Petersburg region, including Livonia; and thirdly
Poland. As for the various kinds of industry, the most
important category is that of textile fabrics, the second that
of articles of nutrition, and the third that of ores and metals.
The total production, if we may believe certain statistical
authorities, places Russia now among the industrial nations
of the world in the fifth place, immediately after the United
States, England, Germany, and France, and a little before
Austria.

The man who has in recent times carried out most
energetically the policy of protecting and fostering native
industries is M. Witte, a name now familiar to Western
Europe. An avowed disciple of the great German economist,
Friedrich List, about whose works he published a brochure
in 1888, he held firmly, from his youth upwards, the doctrine
that "each nation should above all things develop har-
moniously its natural resources to the highest possible
degree of independence, protecting its own industries and
preferring the national aim to the pecuniary advantage of
individuals." As a corollary to this principle he declared
that purely agricultural countries are economically backward
and intellectually stagnant, being condemned to pay tribute
to the nations who have learned to work up their raw
products into more valuable commodities. The good old
English doctrine that certain countries were intended by
Providence to be eternally agricultural, and that their
function in the economy of the universe is to supply raw
material for the industrial nations, was always in his eyes an
abomination — an ingenious, nefarious invention of the Man-
chester school, astutely invented for the purpose of keeping
the younger nations permanently in a state of economic
bondage for the benefit of English manufacturers. To
emancipate Russia from this thraldom by enabling her to

M. WITTE'S POLICY 663

create a great native industry, sufficient to supply all her own
wants, was the aim of his policy and the constant object of
his untiring efforts. Those who have had the good fortune
to know him personally must have often heard him discourse
eloquently on this theme, supporting his views by quotations
from the economists of his own school, and by illustrations
drawn from the history of his own and other countries.

A necessary condition of realising this aim was that there
should be high tariffs. These already existed, and they
might be raised still higher, but in themselves they were not
enough. For the rapid development of native industry
an enormous capital was required, and the first problem to
be solved was how this capital could be obtained. At one
moment the energetic Minister conceived the project of
creating a fictitious capital by inflating the paper currency;
but this idea proved unpopular, and when broached in the
Council of State it encountered determined opposition.
Being a practical man without inveterate prejudices,
M. Witte gave up the scheme which he could not carry
through, and adopted the views of his opponents. He
would introduce a gold currency as recommended ; but how
was the requisite capital to be obtained ? It must be pro-
cured from abroad, somehow, and the simplest way seemed
to be to stimulate the export of native products. For
this purpose the railways were extended,* the traffic rates
manipulated, and the means of transport improved generally.

A certain influx of gold was thus secured, but not nearly
enough for the object in view. Some more potent means,
therefore, had to be employed, and the inventive Minister
evolved a new scheme. If he could only induce foreign
capitalists to undertake manufacturing industries in Russia,
they would, at one and the same time, bring into the country
an enormous amount of capital, and also co-operate
powerfully in that development of the national industry
which he so ardently desired. No sooner had he roughly
sketched out his plan — for he was not a man to let the grass
grow under his feet — than he set himself to put it into
execution by letting it be known in the financial world that

* During the ten years of his financial administration (1893-1903) the
railway system was extended from 20,287 to 37,128 miles.

664 RUSSIA

the Government was ready to open a great field for lucrative
investments, in the form of profitable enterprises under the
control of those who subscribed the capital.

Foreign capitalists responded warmly to the call. Crowds
of concession-hunters, projectors, company promoters, et hoc
genus omne, collected in St. Petersburg, offering their
services on the most tempting terms; and all of them who
could make out a plausible case were well received at the
Ministry of Finance. It was there explained to them that in
many branches of industry, such as the manufacture of textile
fabrics, there was little or no room for new-comers, but that
in others the prospects were most brilliant. Take, for
example, the iron industries of Southern Russia. The
boundless mineral wealth of that region was still almost
intact, and the few works which had been there established
were paying very large dividends. The works founded by
John Hughes, for example, had repeatedly divided consider-
ably over twenty per cent., and there was little fear for the
future, because the Government had embarked on a great
scheme of railway extension, requiring an unlimited amount
of rails and rolling-stock. What better opening could be
desired? Certainly the opening seemed most attractive, and
into it rushed the crowd of company promoters, followed by
stock-jobbers and brokers, playing lively pieces of what the
Germans call Zukunftsmiisik. An unwary and confiding
public, especially in Belgium and France, listened to the
enchanting strain of the financial sirens, and invested
largely. Quickly the number of completed ironworks in
that region rose from nine to seventeen, and in the short
space of three years the output of pig-iron was nearly
doubled. In 1900 there were 44 blast-furnaces in working
order, and ten more were in course of construction. And all
this time the Imperial revenue increased by leaps and bounds,
so that the introduction of the gold currency was effected
without difficulty. M. Witte was declared to be the greatest
Minister of his time — a Russian Colbert or Turgot, or
perhaps the two rolled into one.

Then came a change. Competition and over-production
led naturally to a fall in prices, and at the same time the
demand decreased, because the railway-building activity of

A GOiMMERGIAL CRISIS 665

the Government slackened. Alarmed at this state of things,
the banks which had helped to start and foster the huge
and costly enterprises contracted their credits. By the end
of 1899 the disenchantment was general and widespread.
Some of the companies were so weighted by the preliminary
financial obligations, and had conducted their affairs in such
careless, reckless fashion, that they had to shut down their
mines and close their works. Even solid undertakings
suffered. The shares of the Briansk works, for example,
which had given dividends as high as 30 per cent., fell from
500 to 230. The Mamontov companies — supposed to be one
of the strongest financial groups in the country— had to
suspend payment, and numerous other failures occurred.
Nearly all the commercial banks, having directly partici-
pated in the industrial concerns, were rudely shaken. M.
Witte, who had been for a time the idol of a certain section
of the financial world, became very unpopular, and was
accused of having misled the investing public. Among the
accusations brought against him some at least could easily
be refuted. He may have made mistakes in his policy, and
may have been himself over-sanguine, but surely, as he
subsequently replied to his accusers, it was no part of his
duty to warn company promoters and directors that they
should refrain from over-production, and that their enter-
prises might not be as remunerative as they expected. As
to whether there is any truth in the assertion that he held
out prospects of larger Government orders than he actually
gave, I cannot say. That he cut down prices, and showed
himself a hard man to deal with, there seems no doubt.

The reader may naturally be inclined to jump to the
conclusion that the commercial crisis just referred to was
the direct cause of M. Witte's fall. Such a conclusion would
not be quite accurate. The crisis happened in the winter of
1899-1900, and M. Witte remained Finance Minister until
the autumn of 1903. His fall was the result of more com-
plicated causes, and these I propose now to explain, because
the explanation will throw light on certain very curious and
characteristic conceptions which were then current among the
Russian educated classes and have not yet entirely disap-
peared.

666 RUSSIA

Of course there were certain causes of a purely personal
kind, but I shall dismiss them in a very few words. I
remember once asking a well-informed friend of M. Witte's
what he thought of him as an administrator and a states-
man. The friend replied: "Imagine a negro of the Gold
Coast let loose in modern European civilisation ! " This
reply, like most epigrammatic remarks, is a piece of gross
exaggeration, but it has a modicum of truth in it. In the
eyes of well-trained Russian officials M, Witte was a Titanic,
reckless character, capable at any moment of playing the
part of the bull in the china-shop. As a masterful person,
brusque in manner and incapable of brooking contradiction,
he had made for himself many enemies ; and his restless,
irrepressible energy had led him to encroach on the provinces
of all his colleagues. Possessing as he did the control of
the purse, his interference could not easily be resisted. The
Ministers of the Interior, War, Agriculture, Public Works,
Public Instruction, and Foreign Affairs had all occasion to
complain of his incursions into their departments.

Altogether M. Witte was an inconvenient personage in
an Administration in which strong personality is regarded
as entirely out of place, and in which personal initiative is
supposed to reside exclusively in the Tsar. In addition to
all this he was a man who felt keenly, and when he was
irritated he did not always keep the unruly member under
strict control. If I am correctly informed, it was some
imprudent and not very respectful remarks, repeated by a
subordinate and transmitted by a Grand Duke to the Tsar,
which were the immediate cause of his transfer from the
influential post of Minister of Finance to the ornamental
position of President of the Council of Ministers; but that
was merely the proverbial last straw that breaks the camel's
back. His position was already undermined, and it is the
undermining process which I wish to describe.

The first to work for his overthrow were the Agrarian
Conservatives. They could not deny that, from the purely
fiscal point of view, his administration w^as a marvellous
success; for he was rapidly doubling the revenue, and he
had succeeded in replacing the fluctuating depreciated paper
currency by a gold coinage; but they maintained that he was

UNDERMINING WITTE'S POSITION 667

killing the goose that laid the golden eggs. Evidently the
tax-paying power of the rural classes was being overstrained,
for they were falling more and more into arrears in the pay-
ment of their taxes, and their impoverishment was yearly
increasing. All their reserves had been exhausted, as was
shown by the famines of 1891-2, when the Government had
to spend hundreds of millions to feed them. Whilst the
land was losing its fertility, those who had to live by it
were increasing in numbers at an alarming rate. Already
in some districts one-fifth of the peasant households had no
longer any land of their own, and of those who still possessed
land a large proportion had no longer the cattle and horses
necessary to till and manure their allotments. No doubt
M. Witte was beginning to perceive his mistake, and had
done something to palliate the evils by improving the system
of collecting the taxes and abolishing the passport dues,
but such merely palliative remedies could have little effect.
While a few capitalists were amassing gigantic fortunes,
the masses were slowly and surely advancing to the brink
of starvation. The welfare of the agriculturists, who con-
stitute nine-tenths of the whole population, was being
ruthlessly sacrificed, and for what ? For the creation of a
manufacturing industry which rested on an artificial,
precarious basis, and which had already begun to decline.

So far the Agrarians, who championed the interests of
the agricultural classes. Their view^s were confirmed and
their arguments strengthened by an influential group of men
whom I may call, for want of a better name, the philosophers
or doctrinaire interpreters of history, who have, strange to
say, more influence in Russia than in any other country.

The Russian educated classes desire that the nation
should be wealthy and self-supporting, and they recognise
that for this purpose a large manufacturing industry is
required; but they are reluctant to make the sacrifices
necessary to attain the object in view^, and they imagine
that, somehow or other, these sacrifices may be avoided.
Sympathising with this frame of mind, the doctrinaires
explain that the rich and prosperous countries of Europe and
America obtained their wealth and prosperity by so-called
"Capitalism" — that is to say, by a peculiar social organisa-

668 RUSSIA

tion, in which the two main factors are a small body of rich
capitalists and manufacturers, and an enormous pauper
proletariat living from hand to mouth, at the mercy of the
heartless employers of labour. Russia had lately followed
in the footsteps of those wealthy countries, and if she con-
tinued to do so she would inevitably be saddled with the
same disastrous results — plutocracy, pauperism, unrestrained
competition in all spheres of activity, and a greatly intensified
struggle for life, in which the weaker would necessarily go
to the wall.*

Happily there was, according to these theorists, a more
excellent way, and Russia might adopt it if she only
remained true to certain mysterious principles of her past
historic development. Without attempting to expound
those mysterious principles, to which I have repeatedly
referred in previous chapters, I may mention briefly that the
traditional patriarchal institutions on which the theorists
founded their hopes of a happy social future for their country
were the rural Commune, the native home industries, and
the peculiar co-operative institutions called Artels. How
these remnants of a semi-patriarchal state of society were
to be practically developed in such a way as to withstand
the competition of manufacturing industry organised on
modern "Capitalist" lines, no one could explain satisfac-
torily, but many people indulged in ingenious speculations
on the subject, like children planning the means of diverting
with their little toy spades a formidable inundation. In my
humble opinion, the whole theory was a delusion ; but it
was held firmly — I might almost say fanatically — by those
who, in opposition to the indiscriminate admirers of West-
European and American civilisation, considered themselves
genuine Russians and exceptionally good patriots. M. Witte
never belonged to that class. He believed that there was
only one road to national prosperity — the road by which
Western Europe had travelled — and along this road he tried
to drive his country as rapidly as possible. He threw him-
self, therefore, heart and soul into what his opponents called

* Free competition in all spheres of activity, leading to social inequality,
plutocracy, and pauperism, is the favourite bugbear of Russian theorists ; and
who is not a theorist in Russia? The fact indicates the prevalence of Socialist
ideas among the educated classes.

M. PLEHVE'S HOSTILITY 669

"Capitalism," by raising State loans, organising banks and
other credit institutions, encouraging the creation and exten-
sion of big factories, which must inevitably destroy the home
industries, and even — horribile dictu! — undermining the rural
Commune, and thereby adding to the ranks of the landless
proletariat, in order to increase the amount of cheap labour
for the benefit of the capitalists.

With the arguments thus supplied by Agrarians and
doctrinaires, quite honest and well-meaning according to
their lights, it was easy to sap M. Witte's position. Among
his opponents, the most formidable was the late M. Plehve,
Minister of the Interior — a man of a totally different stamp.
A few months before his tragic end, I had a long and
interesting conversation with him, and I came away deeply
impressed. Having repeatedly had conversations of a similar
kind with M. Witte, I could compare, or rather contrast,
the two men. Both of them evidently possessed an excep-
tional amount of mental power and energy, but in the one
it was volcanic, and in the other it was concentrated and
thoroughly under control. In discussion, the one reminded
me of the self-taught, slashing swordsman ; the other of the
dexterous fencer, carefully trained in the use of the foils,
who never launches out beyond the point at which he can
quickly recover himself. As to whether M. Plehve was
anything more than a bold, energetic, clever official, there
may be differences of opinion, but he certainly could assume
the airs of a profound and polished statesman, capable of
looking at things from a much higher point of view than
the ordinary tchinovnik, and he had the talent of tacitly
suggesting that a great deal of genuine, enlightened states-
manship lay hidden under the smooth surface of his cautious
reserve. When speaking of his colleague, M. Witte, his
language was most correct, but it was not difficult to infer
that he was decidedly hostile to the policy of the Ministry
of Finance.

From other sources I learned the chief cause of this
hostility. Being Minister of the Interior, and having served
long in the Police Department, M. Plehve considered that
his first duty was the maintenance of public order and the
protection of the person and autocracy of his august master.

670 RUSSIA

He was therefore the determined enemy of revolutionary
tendencies, in whatever garb or disguise they might appear;
and as a statesman he had to direct his attention to every-
thing likely to increase those tendencies in the future. Now
it seemed to him that in the financial policy which had been
followed for some years there were germs of future revolu-
tionary fermentation. The peasantry were becoming impover-
ished, a:nd were therefore more likely to listen to the insidious
suggestions of Socialist agitators; and already agrarian
disturbances had occurred in the provinces of Kharkov and
Poltava. The industrial proletariat which was being rapidly
created was being secretly organised by the revolutionary
Social Democrats, and already there had been serious labour
troubles in some of the large towns. For any future revolu-
tionary movement the proletariat would naturally supply
recruits. Then, at the other end of the social scale, a class
of rich capitalists was being created, and everybody who
has read a little history knows that a rich and powerful
tiers-etat cannot be permanently conciliated with autocracy.
Though himself neither an Agrarian nor a Slavophil doc-
trinaire, M. Plehve could not but have a certain sympathy
with those who were forging thunderbolts for the official
annihilation of M. Witte. He was too practical a man to
imagine that the hands on the dial of economic progress
could be set back and a return made to moribund patriarchal
institutions; but he thought that at least the pace might be
moderated. The Minister of Finance need not be in such
a desperate, reckless hurry, and it was desirable to create
conservative forces which might counteract the revolutionary
forces which his impulsive colleague was inadvertently
calling into existence.

Some of the forgers of thunderbolts went a great deal
farther, and asserted or insinuated that M. Witte was himself
consciously a revolutionist, with secret, malevolent inten-
tions. In support of their insinuations they cited certain
cases in which well-known Socialists had been appointed
professors in academies under the control of the Ministry
of Finance, and they pointed to the Peasant Bank, which
enjoyed M. Witte's special protection. At first it had been
supposed that the bank would have an anti-revolutionary

THE FALL OF M. WITTE 671

influence by preventing the formation of a landless prole-
tariat and increasing the number of small landowners, who
are always and everywhere conservative so far as the rights
of private property are concerned. Unfortunately its success
roused the fears of the more conservative section of the landed
proprietors. These gentlemen, as I have already mentioned,
pointed out that the estates of the nobles were rapidly pass-
ing into the hands of the peasantry, and that, if this process
were allowed to continue, the hereditary noblesse, which
had always been the surest support of the throne, would drift
into the towns and there sink into poverty or amalgamate
with the commercial plutocracy. Thus they would help to
form a tiers-etat, which would be hostile to the Autocratic
Power.

In these circumstances it was evident that the headstrong
Minister of Finance could maintain his position only so long
as he enjoyed the energetic support of the Emperor, and
this support, for reasons which I have indicated above, failed
him at the critical moment. While his work was still
unfinished he was suddenly compelled to relinquish his post
and accept a position in which, it was supposed, he would
cease to have any great influence on the Administration.

Thus fell the Russian Colbert-Turgot, or whatever else
he may be called. Whether financial difficulties in the future
will lead to his reinstatement as Minister of Finance remains
to be seen ; but in any case his work cannot be undone. He
has increased manufacturing industry to an unprecedented
extent, and, as M. Plehve perceived, the industrial prole-
tariat, which manufacturing industry on capitalist lines
always creates, has provided a new field of activity for the
revolutionists. I return, therefore, to the development of
the revolutionary movement in order to describe its more
recent phases.

CHAPTER XXXVII

A NEW PHASE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY MOVEMENT

The development of manufacturing industry on capitalist
lines, and the consequent formation of a large industrial
proletariat, naturally produced great disappointment among
the numerous theorists who had believed that in some way or
other Russia would escape "the festering sores of Western
civilisation." Experience had proved that the belief was an
illusion, and those who had tried to check the natural course
of industrial progress were constrained to confess that their
efforts had been futile. Big factories were increasing in size
and numbers, while cottage industries were disappearing
or falling under the power of middlemen, and the Artels
had not advanced a step in their expected development. The
factory workers, all of peasant origin, were losing their con-
nection with their native villages, and abandoning their
allotments of the Communal land. They were becoming, in
short, an hereditary caste in the town population, and the
Slavophil dream of every factory worker having a house in
the country could no longer be indulged in. Nor was there
any prospect of a change for the better in the future. With
the increase of competition among the manufacturers, the
uprooting of the muzhik from the soil must go on more and
more rapidly, because employers must insist more and more
on having thoroughly trained operatives j^eady to work
steadily all the year round. --^

This state of things had a curious effect on the course
of the revolutionary movement.

Let me recall very briefly the successive stages through
which the movement had already passed. It had been
inaugurated, as we have seen, by the Nihilists, the ardent
young representatives of a "storm-and-stress " period, in
which the venerable traditions and respected principles of
the past were rejected and ridiculed, and the newest ideas

672

STAGES OF THE MOVEMENT 673

of Western Europe were eagerly adopted and distorted.
Like the majority of their educated countrymen, they believed
that, in the race of progress, Russia was about to overtake
and surpass the nations of the West, and that this desirable
result was to be attained by making a tabula rasa of existing
institutions, and reconstructing society according to the plans
of Proudhon, Fourier, and the other writers of the early
Socialist school.

When the Nihilists had expended their energies and
exhausted the patience of the public in theorising, talking,
and writing, a party of action came upon the scene. Like
the Nihilists, they desired political, social, and economic
reforms of the most thoroughgoing kind, but they believed
that such things could not be effected by the educated classes
alone, and they determined to call in the co-operation of the
people. For this purpose they tried to convert the masses
to the gospel of Socialism. Hundreds of them became
missionaries and "went in among the people." But the
gospel of Socialism proved unintelligible to the uneducated,
and the more ardent, incautious missionaries fell into the
hands of the police. Those of them who escaped, perceiving
the error of their ways, but still clinging to the hope of
bringing about a political, social, and economic revolution,
determined to change their tactics. The emancipated serf
had shown himself incapable of "prolonged revolutionary
activity," but there was reason to believe that he was, like
his forefathers in the time of Stenka Razin and Pugatchev,
capable of rising and murdering his oppressors. He must
be used, therefore, for the destruction of the Autocratic
Power and the bureaucracy, and then it would be easy to
reorganise society on a basis of universal equality, and to
take permanent precautions against capitalism and the
creation of a Proletariat. This was the second phase of
the movement.

The hopes of the agitators proved as delusive as those
of the propagandists. The muzhik turned a deaf ear to their
instigations, and the police soon prevented their further
activity. Thus the would-be root-and-branch reformers
found themselves in a dilemma. Either they must abandon
their schemes for the moment or they must strike immediately
w

674 RUSSIA

at their persecutors. They chose, as we have seen, the latter
alternative, and after vain attempts to frighten the Govern-
ment by acts of terrorism against zealous officials, they
assassinated the Tsar himself ; but before they had time to
think of the constructive part of their task, their organisation
was destroyed by the Autocratic Power and the bureaucracy,
and those of them who escaped arrest had to seek safety in
emigration to Switzerland and Paris. Thus ended the third
phase.

Then arose, all along the line of the defeated, decimated
Revolutionists, the cry, "What is to be done?" Some
replied that the shattered organisation should be recon-
structed, and a number of secret agents were sent successively
from Switzerland for this purpose. But their efforts, as they
themselves confessed, were fruitless, and despondency
seemed to be settling down permanently on all, except a
few fanatics, when a voice was heard calling on the fugitives
to rally round a new banner and carry on the struggle by
entirely new methods. The voice came from a revolution-
ologist (if I may use such a term) of remarkable talent,
called M. Plekhanov, who had settled in Geneva with a little
circle of friends, calling themselves the "Labour-Emanci-
pation Group." His views were expounded in a series of
interesting publications, the first of which was a brochure
entitled "Socialism and the Political Struggle," published
in 1883.

According to M. Plekhanov and his disciples the revolu-
tionary movement had been conducted up to that moment
on altogether wrong lines. All previous revolutionary
groups had acted on the assumption that the political revo-
lution and the economic reorganisation of society must be
effected simultaneously, and consequently they had rejected
contemptuously all proposals for reforms, however radical,
of a merely political kind. These had been considered, as I
have mentioned in a previous chapter, not only as worthless,
but as positively prejudicial to the interests of the working
classes, because so-called political liberties and parliamentary
government would be sure to consolidate the domination of
the bourgeoisie. That such had generally been the imme-
diate effect of parliamentary institutions was admitted, but

KARL MARX'S THEORIES 675

it did not follow that the creation of such institutions should
be opposed. On the contrary, they ought to be welcomed,
not merely because, as some revolutionists had already
pointed out, propaganda and agitation could be more easily
carried on under a constitutional regime, but because con-
stitutionalism is certainly the most convenient, and perhaps
the only, road by which the socialistic ideal can ultimately be
attained. This is a dark saying, but it will become clearer
when I have explained, according to the new apostles, a
second error into which their predecessors had fallen.

That second error was the assumption that all true friends
of the people, whether Conservatives, Liberals, or Revolu-
tionaries, ought to oppose to the utmost the development of
capitalism. In the light of Karl Marx's discoveries in
economic science everyone must recognise this to be an
egregious mistake. That great authority, it was said, had
proved that the development of capitalism was irresistible,
and his conclusions had been confirmed by the recent history
of Russia, for all the economic progress made during the
last half-century had been on capitalist lines.

Even if it were possible to arrest the capitalist movement
it is not desirable from the revolutionary point of view. In
support of this thesis Karl Marx is again cited. He has
shown that capitalism, though an evil in itself, is a necessary
stage of economic and social progress. At first it is
prejudicial to the interests of the working classes, but in the
long run it benefits them, because the ever-growing Prole-
tariat must, whether it desires it or not, become a political
party, and as a political party it must one day break the
domination of the bourgeoisie. As soon as it has obtained
the predominant political power, it will confiscate, for the
public good, the instruments of production — factories,
foundries, machines, etc. — by expropriating the capitalists.
In this way all the profits which accrue from production on
a large scale, and which at present go into the pockets of
the capitalists, will be distributed equally among the
workmen.

Thus began the fourth phase of the revolutionary move-
ment, and, like all previous phases, it remained for some
years in the academic stage, during which there were endless

676 RUSSIA

discussions on theoretical and practical questions. Lavrov,
the prophet of the old propaganda, treated the new ideas
"with grandfatherly severity," and Tikhomirov, the leading
representative of the moribund Narodnaya Volya, which had
prepared the acts of terrorism, maintained stoutly that the
West European methods recommended by Plekhanov were
inapplicable to Russia. The Plekhanov group replied in a
long series of publications, partly original, and partly trans-
lations from Marx and Engels, explaining the doctrines and
aims of the Social Democrats.

Seven years were spent in this academic literary activity
— a period of comparative repose for the Russian secret police
— and then, about 1890, the propagandists of the new school
began to work cautiously in St. Petersburg. At first they
confined themselves to forming little secret circles for making
converts, and they found that the ground had been to some
extent prepared for the seed which they had to sow. The
workmen were discontented, and some of the more intelligent
amongst them, who had formerly been in touch with the
propagandists of the older generation, had learned that there
was an ingenious and effective means of getting their griev-
ances redressed. How was that possible ? By combinations
and strikes. For the uneducated workers this was an
important discovery, and they soon began to put the sug-
gested remedy to a practical test. In the autumn of 1894
labour troubles broke out in the Nevski engineering works
and the arsenal, and in the following year in the Thornton
factory and the cigarette manufactories. In all these strikes
the Social Democratic agents took part behind the scenes.
Avoiding the main errors of the old propagandists, who had
offered the workmen merely abstract Socialist theories which
no uneducated person could reasonably be expected to under-
stand, they adopted a more rational method. Though
impervious to abstract theories, the Russian workman is not
at all insensible to the prospect of bettering his material
condition, and getting his everyday grievances redressed.
Of these grievances the ones he felt most keenly were the
long hours, the low wages, the fines arbitrarily imposed by
the managers, and the brutal severity of the foremen. By
helping him to have these grievances removed, the Social

SOCIAL DEMOCRATIC PLANS 677

Democratic agents might gain his confidence, and wlien they
had come to be regarded by him as his real friends they
might widen his sympathies, and teach him to feel that his
personal interests were identical with the interests of the
working classes as a whole. In this way it would be possible
to awaken in the industrial proletariat generally a sort of
esprit de corps, which is the first condition of political
organisation.

On these lines the agents set to work. Having formed
themselves into a secret association called the "Union for
the Emancipation of the Working Classes," they gradually
abandoned the narrow limits of coterie-propaganda and
prepared the way for agitation on a larger scale. Among
the discontented workmen they distributed a large number
of carefully written tracts, in which the material grievances
were formulated, and the whole political system, with its
police, gendarmes, Cossacks, and tax-gatherers, was criti-
cised in no friendly spirit, but without violent language.
In introducing into the programme this political element,
great caution had to be exercised, because the workmen did
not yet perceive clearly any close connection between their
grievances and the existing political institutions, and those
of them who belonged to the older generation regarded the
Tsar as the incarnation of disinterested benevolence. Bear-
ing this in mind, the Union circulated a pamphlet for the
enlightenment of the labouring population, in which the
writer refrained from all reference to the Autocratic Power,
and described simply the condition of the labouring classes,
the heavy burdens they had to bear, the abuses of which
they were the victims, and the inconsiderate way in which
they were treated by their employers. This pamphlet was
eagerly read, and from that moment, whenever labour
troubles arose, the men applied to the Social Democratic
agents to assist them in formulating their grievances.

Of course, the assistance had to be given secretly, because
there were always police spies in the factories, and all persons
suspected of aiding the labour movement were liable to be
arrested and exiled. On January 4th, 1896, for example,
when the Social Democrats were holding a secret meeting,
115 of them were arrested by the police. Notwithstanding

678 RUSSIA

this incident and others of a similar kind, the work was
carried on with great energy, and in the summer of 1896
the field of operations was extended. During the coronation
ceremonies of that year the factories and workshops in St.
Petersburg were closed, and the men considered that for
these days they ought to receive wages as usual. When their
demand was refused, 30,000 of them went out on strike.
The Social Democratic Union seized the opportunity and
distributed tracts in large quantities. For the first time such
tracts were read aloud at workmen's meetings and applauded
by the audience. The Union encouraged the workmen in
their resistance, but advised them to refrain from violence,
so as not to provoke the intervention of the police and the
military, as they had imprudently done on some previous
occasions. When the police did intervene and expelled some
of the strike leaders from St. Petersburg, the agitators had
an excellent opportunity of explaining that the authorities
were the protectors of the employers and the enemies of the
working classes. These explanations counteracted the effect
of an official proclamation to the workmen, in which M.
Witte tried to convince them that the Tsar was constantly
striving to improve their condition. The struggle was
decided, not by arguments and exhortations, but by a more
potent force : having no funds for continuing the strike, the
men were compelled by starvation to resume work.

This is the point at which the labour movement began
to be conducted on a large scale and by more systematic
methods. In the earlier labour troubles, the strikers had not
understood that the best means of bringing pressure on
employers was simply to refuse to work, and they had often
proceeded to show their dissatisfaction by ruthlessly destroy-
ing their employers' property. This had brought the police,
and sometimes the military, on the scene, and numerous
arrests had followed. Another mistake made by the inexperi-
enced strikers was that they had neglected to create a reserve
fund from which they could draw the means of subsistence
when they no longer received wages and could no longer
obtain credit at the factory provision store. Efforts were
now made to correct these two mistakes, and with regard to
the former they were fairly successful, for wanton destruction

SCHISM IN THE PARTY 679

of property ceased to be a prominent feature of labour
troubles ; but strong reserve funds have not yet been created,
so that the strikes have never been of long duration.

Though the strikes had led, so far, to no great practical,
tangible results, the new ideas and aspirations were spread-
ing rapidly in the factories and workshops, and they had
already struck such deep root that some of the genuine
workmen wished to have a voice in the managing committee
of the Union, which was composed exclusively of educated
men. When a request to that effect was rejected by the
committee a lengthy discussion took place, and it soon
became evident that underneath the question of organisation
lay a most important question of principle. The workmen
wished to concentrate their efforts on the improvement of
their material condition, and to proceed on what we should
call trade-unionist lines, whereas the committee wished them
to aim also at the acquisition of political rights. Great
determination was shown on both sides. An attempt of the
workmen to found and disseminate a secret periodical of
their own with the view of emancipating themselves from
the "Politicals " ended in failure ; but they received sympathy
and support from some of the educated members of the
party, and in this way a schism took place in the Social
Democrat camp. After repeated ineffectual attempts to find
a satisfactory compromise the question was submitted to a
Congress, which was held in Switzerland in 1900 ; but the
discussions merely accentuated the differences of opinion,
and the two parties constituted themselves into separate
independent groups. The one following Plekhanov, and
calling itself the Revolutionary Social Democrats, held to
the Marx doctrines in all their extent and purity, and main-
tained the necessity of constant agitation in the political
sense. The other, calling itself the Union of Foreign Social
Democrats, inclined to the trade-unionism programme, and
proclaimed the necessity of being guided by political expe-
diency rather than inflexible dogmas. Between the two
groups a wordy warfare was carried on for some time
in pedantic, technical language; but, though habitually
brandishing their weapons and denouncing their antagonists
in true Homeric style, they were really allies, struggling

68o RUSSIA

towards a common end — two sections of the Social Demo-
cratic party differing from each other merely on questions
of tactics.

The two divergent tendencies have often reappeared in
the subsequent history of the movement. During ordinary
peaceful times the economic or trade-unionist tendency can
generally hold its own, but as soon as disturbances occur
and the authorities have to intervene, the political current
quickly gains the upper hand. This was exemplified in the
labour troubles which took place at Rostov-on-the-Don in
igo2. During the first two days of the strike the economic
demands alone were put forward, and in the speeches which
were delivered at the meetings of workmen no reference was
made to political grievances. On the third day one orator
ventured to speak disrespectfully of the Autocratic Power,
but he thereby provoked signs of dissatisfaction in the
audience. On the fifth and following days, however, several
political speeches were made, ending with the cry of "Down
with Tsarism ! " and a crowd of 30,000 workmen agreed with
the speakers. Thereafter occurred similar strikes in Odessa,
the Caucasus, Kief, and Central Russia, and they all had a
political rather than a purely economic character.

I must now endeavour to explain clearly the point of
view and plan of campaign of this new movement, which I
may call the revolutionary Renaissance.

The ultimate aim of the new reformers was the same as
that of all their predecessors — the thorough reorganisation
of Society on Socialistic principles. According to their
doctrines, Society as at present constituted consists of two
great classes, called variously the exploiters and the ex-
ploited, the shearers and the shorn, the capitalists and the
workers, the employers and the employed, the tyrants and
the oppressed; and this unsatisfactory state of things must
go on so long as the so-called bourgeois or capitalist regime
continues to exist. In the new heaven and the new earth of
which the Socialist dreams, this unjust distinction is to dis-
appear ; all human beings are to be equally free and inde-
pendent, all are to co-operate spontaneously with brains and
hands to the common good, and all are to enjoy in equal
shares the natural and artificial good things of this life.

THE ANARCHISTS 68i

So far there has never been any difference of opinion
among the various groups of Russian thorough-going revo-
lutionists. All of them, from the antiquated Nihilist down
to the Social Democrat of the latest type, have held these
views. What has differentiated them from each other is the
greater or less degree of impatience to realise the ideal.

The most impatient were the Anarchists, who grouped
themselves around Bakunin. They wished to overthrow
immediately by a frontal attack all existing forms of govern-
ment and social organisation, in the hope that chance, or
evolution, or natural instinct, or sudden inspiration, or some
other mysterious force, would create something better. They
themselves declined to aid this mysterious force even by
suggestions, on the ground that, as one of them has said,
"to construct is not the business of the generation w^hose
duty is to destroy." Notwithstanding the strong impulsive
element in the national character, these reckless, ultra-
impatient doctrinaires never became numerous, and never
succeeded in forming an organised group, probably because
the young generation in Russia were too much occupied with
the actual and future condition of their own country to
embark on schemes of cosmopolitan anarchism such as
Bakunin recommended.

Next in the scale of impatience came the group of
believers in Socialist agitation among the masses, with a view
to overturning the existing Government and putting them-
selves in its place as soon as the masses were sufficiently
organised to play the part destined for them. Between them
and the Anarchists the essential points of difference were that
they admitted the necessity of some years of preparation, and
they intended, when the existing regime was overturned, not
to preserve indefinitely the state of anarchy, but to put in
the place of autocracy, limited monarchy, or the republic, a
strong, despotic, provisional Government thoroughly im-
bued with Socialistic principles. As soon as this temporary
despotism had laid firmly the foundations of the new order
of things it was to call together a National Assembly, from
which it was to receive, I presume, a bill of indemnity for
the benevolent tyranny w^hich it had temporarily exercised
during the period of transition,
w*

684 RUSSIA

Impatience a few degrees less intense produced the next
group, the partisans of pacific Socialist propaganda. They
maintained that there was no necessity for overthrowing the
old order of things till the masses had been intellectually
prepared for the new, and they objected to the foundation of
the new regime being laid by despots, however well-inten-
tioned in the Socialist sense. The people must be made
happy and preserved in a state of happiness by the people
themselves.

In the last place came the least impatient of all, the Social
Democrats, who differ widely from all the preceding
categories.

All previous revolutionary groups had systematically
rejected the idea of a gradual transition from the bourgeois
to the Socialist regime. They would not listen to any sug-
gestion about a constitutional monarchy or a democratic
republic even as a mere intermediate stage of social develop-
ment. All such things, as part and parcel of the bourgeois
system, were anathematised. There must be no half-way
houses between present misery and future happiness; for
many weary travellers might be tempted to settle there in
the desert, and fail to reach the promised land. "Ever
onward " should be the watchword, and no time should be
wasted on the foolish struggles of political parties and the
empty vanities of political life.

Not thus thought the Social Democrat. He was much
wiser in his generation. Having seen how the attempts of
the impatient groups had ended in disaster, and knowing
that, if they had succeeded, the old effete bureaucracy would
probably have been replaced by a young, vigorous despotism
more objectionable than its predecessor, he determined to try
a more circuitous but surer road to the goal which the im-
patient revolutionaries had in view. In his opinion the
distance from the present Russian regime protected by auto-
cracy to the future Socialist paradise was far too great to
be traversed in a single stage, and he knew of one or two
comfortable rest-houses on the way. First there was the
rest-house of Constitutionalism, with parliamentary institu-
tions. For some years the bourgeoisie would doubtless have
a parliamentary majority, but gradually, by persistent effort,

THE SOCIAL DEMOCRATIC PROGRAMME 683

the Fourth Estate would gain the upper hand, and then the
SociaHst millennium might be proclaimed. Meanwhile,
what had to be done was to gain the confidence of the masses,
especially of the factory workers, who were more intelligent
and less conservative than the peasantry, and to create
powerful labour organisations as material for a future
political party.

This programme implied, of course, a certain unity of
action with the constitutionalists, from whom, as I have said,
the revolutionists of the old school had stood sternly aloof.
There was now no question of a formal union, and certainly
no idea of "a union of hearts," because the Socialists knew
that their ultimate aim would be strenuously opposed by the
Liberals, and the Liberals knew that an attempt was being
made to use them as a cat's-paw; but there seemed to be no
reason why the two groups should not observe towards each
other a benevolent neutrality, and march side by side as far
as the half-way house, where they could consider the condi-
tions of the further advance.

When I first became acquainted with the Russian Social
Democrats, I imagined that their plan of campaign was of a
purely pacific character; and that they were, unlike their
predecessors, an evolutionary, as distinguished from a revo-
lutionary, party. Subsequently I discovered that this con-
ception was not quite accurate. In ordinary quiet times they
used merely pacific methods, and they felt that the Proletariat
was not yet sufficiently prepared, intellectually and politi-
cally, to assume the great responsibilities reserved for it in
the future. Moreover, when the moment should come for
getting rid of the Autocratic Power, they preferred a
gradual process of liquidation to a sudden cataclysm.
So far they might be said to be evolutionaries rather than
revolutionaries, but their plan of campaign did not entirely
exclude violence. They did not consider it their duty to
oppose the use of violence on the part of the more impatient
sections of the revolutionists, and they had no scruples about
utilising disturbances for the attainment of their own endsi.
Public agitation, which is always likely in Russia to provoke
violent repression by the authorities, they regarded as
necessary for keeping alive and strengthening the spirit of

684 RUSSIA

opposition ; and when force was used by the police they
approved of the agitators using force in return. To acts of
terrorism, however, they were opposed on principle.

Who, then, were the Terrorists who assassinated so many
great personages? In reply to this question I must introduce
the reader to another group of the revolutionists who have
usually been in hostile, rather than friendly, relations with
the Social Democrats, and who call themselves the Socialist-
Revolutionaries (Sotsialisty-Revolutsionery).

Like other revolutionary groups, the Socialist-Revolu-
tionaries declared their ultimate aim to be the transfer of
political authority from the Autocratic Power to the people,
and the complete reorganisation of the national life on the
most advanced principles of Socialism. On certain points
they were at one with the Social Democrats. They
recognised, for example, that the social reorganisation must
be preceded by a political revolution, that much preparatory
work was necessary, and that attention should be directed
first to the industrial proletariat as the most intelligent section
of the masses. On the other hand they maintained, in
opposition to the Social Democrats, that it was a mistake to
confine the revolutionary activity to the working classes of
the towns, who were not strong enough to overturn the
Autocratic Power. The agitation ought, therefore, to be
extended to the peasantry, who were quite "developed"
enough to understand at least the idea of land-nationalisa-
tion ; and for the carrying out of this part of the programme
a special organisation was created.

With so many opinions in common it seemed at one
moment as if the Social Democrats and the Socialist-
Revolutionaries might unite their forces for a combined
attack on the Government ; but, apart from the mutual
jealousy and hatred which so often characterise revolutionary
as well as religious sects, they were prevented from
coalescing, or even cordially co-operating, by profound
differences both in doctrine and in method.

The Social Democrats were essentially doctrinaires.
Thorough-going disciples of Karl Marx, they believed in
the so-called immutable laws of social progress, according to
which the Socialistic ideal can be reached only through

THE SOCIALIST-REVOLUTIONARIES 685

capitalism, while the intermediate political revolution, which
is to substitute the will of the people for the Autocratic Power,
must be effected by the conversion and organisation of the
industrial proletariat. With the spiritual pride of men who
feel themselves to be the incarnations or avatars of immut-
able law, they were inclined to look down with something
very like contempt on mere empirics who were ignorant of
scientific principles and were guided by considerations of
practical expediency. The Socialist-Revolutionaries seemed
to them to be empirics of this kind because they rejected
the tenets, or at least denied the infallibility, of the Marx
school, clung to the idea of partially resisting the over-
whelming influence of capitalism in Russia, hoped that
the peasantry would play an important part in bringing
about the political revolution, and were profoundly con-
vinced that the advent of political liberty might be greatly
accelerated by the use of terrorism. On this last point they
stated their views very frankly in a pamphlet which they
published in 1902 under the title of "Our Task" (Nasha
Zadatcha). It is there said :

" One of the powerful means of struggle, dictated by our revolu-
tionary past and present, is political Terrorism, consisting of the
annihilation of the most injurious and influential personages of
Russian autocracy. . . . Systematic Terrorism, in con-
junction with other forms of open mass-struggle (industrial riots
and agrarian risings, demonstrations, etc.) which receive from Terror-
ism an enormous, decisive significance, will lead to the disorganisa-
tion of the enemy. Terrorist activity will cease only with the
victory over autocracy and the complete attainment of political
liberty. Besides its chief significance as a means of disorganising.
Terrorist activity will serve at the same time as a means of propa-
ganda and agitation, a form of open struggle taking place before the
eyes of the whole people, undermining the prestige of Government
authority, and calling into life new revolutionary forces, w-hile the
oral and literary propaganda is being continued without interruption.
Lastly, the Terrorist activity serves for the whole secret revolutionary
party as a means of self-defence and of protecting the organisation
against the injurious elements of spies and treachery."

In accordance with this theory a "militant organisation"
{Bocvaya Organisatsia) was formed, and it soon set to work
with revolvers and bombs. First an attempt was made on

686 RUSSIA

the life of Pobedonostsev ; then the Minister of the Interior,
Sipiagin, was assassinated; next, attempts were made on
the Hves of the Governors of Vilna and Kharkov; thereafter
the Governor of Ufa, the Vice-Governor of EUzabetpol,
M. Plehve, the Grand Duke Serge, and many others fell
victims to the Terrorist policy.

Though the Social Democrats had no sentimental
squeamishness about bloodshed, they objected to this policy
on the ground that acts of Terrorism were unnecessary and
were apt to prove injurious rather than beneficial to the
Revolutionist cause. One of the main objects of every
intelligent revolutionary party should be to awaken all
classes from their habitual apathy and induce them to take
an active part in the political movement ; but Terrorism
must have a contrary effect by suggesting that political
freedom is to be attained, not by the steady pressure and
persevering co-operation of the people, but by startling,
sensational acts of individual heroism.

The efforts of these two Revolutionary parties, as well
as of minor groups, to get hold of the industrial proletariat
did not escape the notice of the authorities ; and during the
labour troubles of 1896, on the suggestion of M. Witte, the
Government had considered the question as to what should
be done to counteract the influence of the agitators. On
that question it had no difficulty in coming to a decision :
the condition of the working classes must be improved. An
expert official was accordingly instructed to write a report
on what had already been done in that direction. In this
report it was shown that the Government had long been
thinking about the subject. Not to speak of a still-born law
about a ten hours' day for artisans, dating from the time
of Catherine II., an Imperial commission had been appointed
as early as 1859, but nothing practical came of its delibera-
tions until 1882, when legislative measures were taken for
the protection of women and children in factories. A little
later (1886) other grievances were dealt with and partly
removed by regulating contracts of hire, providing that the
money derived from deductions and fines should not be
appropriated by the employers, and creating a staff of factory
inspectors who should take care that the benevolent inten-

FACTORY LEGISLATION 687

tions of the Government were duly carried out. Having
reviewed all these official efforts in 1896, the Government
passed in the following year a law prohibiting night work
and limiting the working day to eleven and a half hours.

This did not satisfy the workmen. Their wages were
still low, and it was difficult to get them increased because
strikes and all forms of association were still, as they had
always been, criminal offences. On this point the Govern-
ment remained firm so far as the law was concerned, but
it gradually made practical concessions by allowing the
workmen to combine for certain purposes. In 1898, for
example, in Kharkov, the Engineers' Mutual Aid Society
was sanctioned, and thereafter it became customary to allow
the workmen to elect delegates for the discussion of their
grievances with the employers and inspectors.

Finding that these concessions did not check the growing
influence of the Social Democratic agitators among the
operatives, the Government resolved to go a step farther;
it would organise the workers on purely trade-unionist lines,
and would thereby combat the Social Democrats, who always
advised the strikers to mix up political demands with their
material grievances. The project seemed to have a good
prospect of success, because there were many workmen,
especially of the older generation, who did not at all like
the mixing up of politics, w^hich so often led to arrest,
imprisonment and exile, with the practical concerns of
everyday life.

The first attempt of the kind was made in Moscow,
under the direction of a certain Zubatov, chief of the secret
police, who had been himself a revolutionary in his youth,
and afterwards an agent provocateur. He organised a large
workmen's association, with reading-rooms, lectures, discus-
sions and other attractions, and sought to convince the
members that they should turn a deaf ear to the Social
Democratic agents, and look only to the Government for the
improvement of their condition. In order to gain their
sympathy and confidence, he instructed his subordinates to
take the side of the workmen in all labour disputes, while
he himself brought official pressure to bear on the employers.
By this means he made a considerable number of converts,

688 RUSSIA

and for a time the association seemed to prosper, but he
did not possess the extraordinary abiHty and tact required
to play the compHcated game successfully, and he committed
the fatal mistake of using the office-bearers of the association
as detectives for the discovery of the " ill-intentioned."
This tactical error had its natural consequences. As soon
as the workmen perceived that their professed benefactors
were police spies, who did not obtain for them any real
improvement of their condition, the popularity of the asso-
ciation rapidly declined. At the same time, the factory
owners complained to the Minister of Finance that the
police, who ought to be guardians of public order, and who
had accused the factory inspectors of stirring up discontent
in the labouring population, were themselves creating
troubles by inciting the workmen to make inordinate
demands. The Minister of Finance at the moment was M.
Witte, and the Minister of Interior, responsible for the acts
of the police, was M. Plehve, and between these two official
dignitaries, who were already in very strained relations,
Zubatov's activity formed a new bone of contention. In
these circumstances, it is not surprising that the very risky
experiment came to an untimely end.

In St. Petersburg a similar experiment was made, and it
ended much more tragically, as we shall see in the next
chapter.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE JAPANESE WAR AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

The revolutionary movement entered on a new and more
acute phase at the beginning of 1904, when the Russian
Government inadvertently drifted into war with Japan. For
all classes of the population the war came as a surprise.
Whilst the Japanese were straining every nerve to equip
themselves for the great struggle, the Russian public took
very little interest in the Far Eastern Question. In what
was taking place there seemed to be nothing abnormal :
Russia was expanding, and would continue to expand, east-
wards without any strenuous effort on her part. Of course
the English would endeavour, as usual, to arrest her progress
by diplomatic notes, but their efforts would be as futile as
they had been on all previous occasions. Possibly they
might incite the Japanese to active resistance, but Japan
would not commit the insane folly of challenging her giant
rival to mortal combat. The whole question would doubtless
be settled in accordance with Russian interests, as so many
questions of the same kind had been settled in the past, by
a little skilful diplomacy; and Manchuria would be absorbed,
as the contiguous Chinese provinces had been forty years
before, without the necessity of going to war.

When these comforting illusions were suddenly dispelled
in February, 1904, by the rupture of diplomatic relations
and the Japanese naval attack upon Port Arthur, there was
an outburst of indignant astonishment. At first the indig-
nation was directed against Japan and England, but it was
soon turned against the home Government, which had made
no adequate preparations for the struggle, and it was inten-
sified by current rumours about the crisis having been
provoked by certain infiucntial personages for j5urely
selfish reasons.

How far the disorders in the military organisation and

689

690 RUSSIA

the rumours about financial speculations in high quarters
were true, we need not inquire. True or false, they helped
greatly to make the war unpopular, and to stimulate the
widespread desire for a more enlightened and liberal regime
under which such abuses would be impossible. As in the
time of the Crimean War, public opinion considered that
Autocracy was on its trial and was once more found wanting.

Since the memorable outburst of Liberal enthusiasm
which followed the Crimean campaign, and helped to bring
about the emancipation of the serfs, the reorganisation of
the tribunals, and the introduction of local self-government,
the educated classes had constantly clung to the hope of
inducing the Autocratic Power to cede to them a portion of
its authority. During the reign of Alexander III. (1881-94),
the son and successor of the Tsar-Emancipator, this hope
rarely found public expression, because the Emperor was a
vigorous ruler who believed in the principle of Autocracy
as he believed in the dogmas of his Church, and the men
with Liberal aspirations knew that any political demonstra-
tions on their part would only confirm him in his reactionary
tendencies. Prudently, therefore, they awaited better times,
and the better times were supposed to have dawned when
Nicholas IL ascended the throne in November, 1894; but all
illusions of that kind were speedily dispelled. Before he
had been three months on the throne the young sovereign
announced to a large number of deputies from the Noblesse,
the Zemstvo, and the municipalities, that people must not
let themselves be carried away by absurd dreams of Zemstvo
representatives taking part in the Government: "Devoting
all my efforts to the prosperity of the nation, I will preserve
the principles of Autocracy as firmly and unswervingly as
my late father of imperishable memory."

These words, pronounced by the young ruler at the
beginning of his reign, caused profound disappointment
in all sections of the educated classes, and from that moment
the frondcur spirit began to show itself openly. In the case
of some people of good social position it took the unusual
form of speaking disrespectfully of His Majesty in private;
but more generally it was supposed that the Emperor had
simply repeated words prepared for him by his Ministers,

GRIEVANCES AND DEMANDS 691

and this idea spread rapidly till hostility to the bureaucracy
became universal. The feeling was intensitied in 1902, when
the Ministry of the Interior was confided to M. Plehve. His
appointment coincided with a revival of Terrorism, and he
believed seriously that Autocracy was in danger. To save
it, the only means was, in his opinion, a vigorous, repressive
police administration, and as he was a man of strong con-
victions and exceptional energy, he screwed up his system
of police supervision to the sticking-point, and applied it
to the Liberals as well as to the Terrorists. In 1903, if
we may credit information from an apparently trustworthy
source, no fewer than 1,988 political affairs were initiated by
the police and 4,867 persons were condemned to imprison-
ment or exile without any regular trial.

During the first live months of the war this unpopular
rigorism was in full force, and public opinion was reserved
in its utterances, but when M. Plehve w^as assassinated by a
Terrorist (July 28th, 1904), and was succeeded by Prince
Sviatopolk Mirski, a humane man of Liberal views, the
Constitutionalists considered that the time had come for
putting forward publicly their grievances and demands and
thereby bringing pressure to bear on the Emperor. First
appeared the leading members of the Zemstvos. After some
preliminary consultation, they assembled at St. Petersburg,
with the consent of the authorities, in the hope that they
would be allowed to discuss publicly the political wants of
the country and prepare the draft of a Constitution. Their
wishes were only partially acceded to. They were informed
semi-officially that their meetings must be private, but that
they might send their resolutions to the Ministry of the
Interior for transmission to His Majesty. A memorandum
embodying the current Liberal views was accordingly drawn
up and signed by 102 out of the 104 representatives present.

This hesitating attitude on the part of the Government
encouraged other sections of the educated classes to give
expression to their long pent-up political aspirations. On
the heels of the Zemstvo delegates appeared the barristers,
who discussed the existing evils from the judicial point of
view, and prescribed what they considered the necessary
remedies. Then came corporations of various kinds,

692 RUSSIA

academic leagues, medical faculties, learned societies, non-
descript, self-constituted associations, and miscellaneous
gatherings, all demanding important reforms. Occasionally
the conferences took the form of banquets, at which the
patriotic speeches were not always couched in the respectful
tone of ordinary times, and sometimes the efforts of the
police to prevent meetings likely to become disorderly
resulted in street demonstrations, in which the students
took part. From the capital the movement spread to the
provinces. In December (1904) the Town Councils of
Moscow and other large towns began to support the
Zemstvo, and the Zemstvo assemblies proceeded to support
their representatives in St. Petersburg.

In the memorandum presented to the Minister of the
Interior by the Zemstvo Congress, and in the resolutions
passed at the other meetings, we see reflected the grievances
and aspirations of the great majority of the educated classes.
The theory propounded in these documents is that a lawless,
arbitrary bureaucracy, desirous of excluding the people from
all participation in the management of public affairs, had
come between the nation and the supreme power, and that
it was necessary to eliminate at once this baneful inter-
mediary in order to inaugurate the so-called "reign of law."
For this purpose the orators and petitioners demanded :

(i) Inviolability of person and domicile, so that no one
should be troubled by the police without a warrant from
an independent magistrate and no one punished without a
regular trial.

(2) Freedom of conscience, of speech, and of the Press,
together with the right of holding public meetings and
forming associations.

(3) Greater freedom and increased activity of the local
self-government, rural and municipal.

(4) An Assembly of freely elected representatives, who
should participate in legislation and control the administra-
tion in all its branches.

(5) The immediate convocation of a Constituent Assembly
to prepare a Constitution on those lines.

Of these requirements, the last two were considered by
far the most important. The educated classes had, in fact,

ATTITUDE OF THE GOVERNMENT 693

become animated with an ardent desire for genuine parlia-
mentary institutions on a broad, democratic basis, and
neither improvements in the bureaucratic organisation nor
even an Assembly with merely consultative powers would
satisfy them. They imagined that with a full-fledged
Constitution they would be guaranteed not only against
administrative oppression, but even against military reverses
such as they were experiencing in the Far East — an opinion
which will hardly be endorsed by those who know by
experience how military unreadiness and inefficiency can be
combined with parliamentary institutions.

For a whole month the Government took no official notice
of the unprecedented excitement and demonstrations; then,
on December 25th, it issued an Imperial ukaz to the Senate
which was evidently intended as a reply to the Zemstvo
Congress. His Majesty therein distinguished the real
requirements of the people from the vague aspirations of
certain individuals, enumerated a considerable number of
reforms which he considered to be the most urgent, and
instructed the Committee of Ministers to prepare at once
the requisite legislation. The list of reforms coincided to
a certain extent with the demands formulated by the
Zemstvos, but the document as a whole was very far from
giving satisfaction to the public, because it contained no
mention of a National Assembly. Considerable reforms were
to be undertaken, but they were to be effected by the un-
impaired Autocratic Power in the old bureaucratic fashion,
without the co-operation of the unofficial world.

Anv doubts which may have been entertained as to the
meaning of this ukaz were dispelled two days afterwards by
an official communication. The Government therein re-
proached the leaders of the Zemstvo movement with "trying
to bring confusion into the life of society and of the state,"
and reminded them that their efforts had resulted in a series
of noisy conferences which had put forward inadmissible
demands and in street demonstrations accompanied with
open resistance to the authorities. Such things were declared
to be "alien to the Russian people, which remained true
to the ancient principles of the Imperial order of things,
though an attempt was being made to give the disturbances

694 RUSSIA

the unwarranted significance of a national movement. . . .
Blinded by delusive fancies, the leaders did not perceive
that they were working not for their country, but for its
enemies." Conferences of an anti-national kind would no
longer be permitted, and the Zemstvos and town councils
were warned that they must return to their proper occupa-
tions, and confine themselves to the questions which they
had a legal right to discuss.

As might have been foreseen, the ukaz and the official
communication had not at all the desired effect of "intro-
ducing the necessary tranquillity into public life, lately
diverted from its normal course." On the contrary, they
increased the excitement and evoked a new series of public
demonstrations. Heedless of the Ministerial warnings, the
Zemstvo of Moscow expressed the conviction that the day
was near when the bureaucratic regime, which had so long
estranged the supreme power from the people, would be
changed, and when freely elected representatives of the
people would take part in legislation. In St. Petersburg,
the same evening, at a great Liberal banquet, a resolution
was voted condemning the war and declaring that Russia
could be extricated from her difficulties only by the repre-
sentatives of the nation freely elected by universal, secret
suffrage. Similar resolutions were passed in various pro-
vincial assemblies of the Noblesse, and in some places even
the fair sex considered it necessary to support the opposition
movement. The matrons of Moscow, for example, in a
humble petition to the Empress, declared that they could
not continue to bring up their children properly in the
existing state of unconstitutional lawlessness, and their view
was endorsed in several provincial towns by the schoolboys,
who marched in procession through the streets and refused
to learn their lessons until popular liberties had been granted
by the Government.

The apprehensions of the Government that the political
agitation might lead to serious disturbances and bloodshed
were speedily realised in a very terrible form. I refer to the
so-called "Red Sunday" in St. Petersburg (January 22nd,
1905), when Father Gapon attempted to lead a monster
procession of working-men, with their wives and children.

FATHER GAPON 695

to the Winter Palace, and caused the loss of many lives.
As this incident exercised a considerable influence on the
subsequent course of the revolutionary movement, and
attracted great attention in Western Europe, I propose to
deal with it rather fully.

In the preceding chapter I have explained how the Social
Democratic agitators always advised the workmen, in times
of strike, to mix up political demands with their material
grievances; how the Government, with a view to counter-
acting the influence of these agitators, gave its assent to a
scheme for organising the workmen of the large towns on
purely trade-unionist lines; and how an attempt had been
made in Moscow to carry out this idea on a large scale.

A little later a similar attempt had been made in St.
Petersburg, with the assistance of Father Gapon, a young
priest who had taken part in the unsuccessful Moscow
experiment, and had subsequently been appointed chaplain
to a central convict prison in the capital. Here his new
professional duties did not prevent him from continuing to
take a keen interest in the welfare of the working classes,
and in the summer of 1904 he became, with the approval
of the police authorities, president of a great Labour Union
called the Society of Russian Workmen, which had eleven
sections in the various industrial quarters of the town and
contained 25,000 members. Under his guidance the new
experiment proceeded for some months very successfully.
He gained the sympathv and confidence of the workmen,
and, so long as no serious question arose, he kept his hold
on them; but a storm was brewing, and he proved unequal
to the occasion.

In the first days of 1905, when the economic consequences
of the war had come to be keenly felt, and the men with
Liberal aspirations were agitating publicly against the
Government, a spirit of unrest and discontent appeared
among the labouring population of St. Petersburg. On
January 15th, exactly a week before the famous "Red
Sunday," a strike began in the Putilov ironworks, and
spread like wildfire to the other big works in the neigh-
bourhood, so that on the second day 45,000 operatives had
struck work. The immediate cause of the disturbance was

696 RUSSIA

the dismissal of some workmen, and a demand on the part
of the Labour Union that they should be reinstated. In
the negotiations between employers and employed, Gapon
tried hard to restrict the discussions to the simple points
at issue, but the Social Democratic agitators, who inter-
vened as advisers to the workmen, prevented an amicable
arrangement by putting forward demands of a semi-political
kind. The struggle between the " Economists," who con-
fined themselves to workmen's grievances, and the
"Politicals," who tried to give the movement a political
character, became more and more intense, and gradually
the latter gained the upper hand. They had in each quarter
a regular organisation, composed of an "organiser," who
directed the campaign; three "material agitators," who
declaimed at the large meetings; and several "visitors,"
who attended the small gatherings in the workmen's houses.
Besides these there was a number of fully "indoctrinated"
workmen, who had learned the art of making inflammatory
political speeches.

The numerous reports of the "organisers" and their
assistants to the central committee of the Social Democrats,
written hurriedly during this eventful week, are extremely
graphic and interesting. The writers declare that there is
a frightful amount of work to be done and very few to
do it. Their stock of pamphlets is exhausted, and they are
hoarse from speech-making. In spite of their frantic efforts,
the masses remain dreadfully "undeveloped." The men
willingly assemble to hear the orations, listen to them
attentively, express approval or dissent, and even put ques-
tions; but the great majority remain obstinately on the
ground of their own immediate wants, such as increase of
wages and protection against the brutality of foremen,
and take little interest in more "serious" demands. The
agitators, however, are equally persistent, and they make
a few converts. To illustrate how conversions are made,
the following incident is related : At one of the meetings
the cry of "Stop the war ! " is raised by a youthful agitator,
and he loses his presence of mind when a voice is heard in
the audience saying: "No, no! The little Japs (Yaposhki)
must be beaten first ! " Thereupon a more experienced

EXCITEMENT OF THE MASSES 697

orator comes to the rescue, and a characteristic conversation
takes place :

"Have we much land of our own, comrades?" asks the
orator.

"Very much! " replies the crowd.

"Do we require Manchuria?"

"No! No! No!"

"Who pays for the war ? "

"We do, of course."

"Are our brothers dying, and do their wives and children
remain without a bit of bread ? "

"So it is! So it is! " say many, with a doleful shake
of the head.

Having succeeded so far, the orator tries to turn the
popular indignation against the Tsar by explaining that he
is to blame for all this misery and suffering ; but a workman
called Petrov, one of Gapon's devoted adherents, suddenly
appears on the scene and maintains that for the suffering
and misery the Tsar is not to blame, for he knows nothing
about it. It is all the fault of his servants, the Tchinovniks !

By this device Petrov averts the seditious cry of "Down
with Autocracy ! " which the Social Democrats wished to
make the watchword of the movement, but he leaves his
strong position of "No politics," and he is standing, as we
shall see presently, on a slippery incline.

During the next two days the activity of the leaders
and the excitement of the masses increased. While the
Gaponists spoke merely of local grievances and material
wants, the Social Democrats incited their hearers to a
political struggle, advising them to demand a Constituent
Assembly, and explaining the necessity for all workmen to
draw together and form a powerful political party. The
haranguing went on from morning till night, and agitators
drove about from one factory to another to keep the excite-
ment at fever-heat". The police, usually most active on such
occasions, did not put in an appearance. Prince Sviatopolk
Mirski, the honest, well-intentioned Liberal Minister of the
Interior, believing in the virtue of conciliation, could not
make up his mind to use severe repressive measures, and
allowed things to drift. Even the agitators were astonished

698 RUSSIA

at this extraordinary inactivity. One of them, a few days
afterwards, wrote in his report : "The pohce was paralysed.
Gapon might easily have been arrested and the clubs sur-
rounded. ... In a word, decided measures might have
been taken, but they were not."

Unimpeded by the police, the political propaganda made
such rapid progress that before the end of the week a Social
Democratic orator could write triumphantly : "In three days
we have transformed the Gaponist assemblies into political
meetings ! " Wonderful to relate, Gapon himself was being
carried away by the prevailing excitement ! When he
perceived that the idea of making the Government re-
sponsible for all the existing evils was becoming extremely
popular, and that he was consequently losing his hold on
the masses, his inordinate vanity was wounded, and he
sought to recover his influence by partially adopting the
programme of his opponents. He maintained, however, like
his friend Petrov, that the real culprits were the Tchinovniks,
who prevented the groans and prayers of the people from
reaching the ears of the Tsar; and from this view of the
situation he drew the practical conclusion that His Majesty
must be at once fully informed and duly admonished through
some direct, unofficial channel. But where could such a
channel be found ? On that point he showed no hesitation :
he would himself undertake the mission of enlightening and
admonishing the Emperor ! Accompanied by a monster
procession of workmen, he would go to the Winter Palace,
demand an audience of the Emperor, and present to him
a petition stating the workmen's grievances, and demanding
political liberties as the only effectual remedy.

As soon as he had formed this resolution he drafted a
petition in strong language, and endeavoured to ascertain
whether he would obtain the requisite popular support. For
this purpose he went to one of the numerous workmen's
meetings that were being held in all the industrial quarters,
and, after briefly explaining the nature of the proposed
petition, he said : "Let us go on Sunday to the Palace and
summon the Tsar, and let us tell him our wants; if he does
not listen to us, we have no longer any need of him." The
scheme appeared to be favourably received, and towards the

GAPON AND THE REVOLUTIONARIES 699

close of the proceedings, after Gapon had retired and the
petition had been read aloud by one of his friends, a resolu-
tion was passed that if the Tsar did not come out at the
demand of the people, strong measures should be taken.
As to what kind of strong measures should be employed,
there could be no possible doubt, for one of the orators
explained: "We don't require a Tsar who is deaf to the
woes of the people; we may perish ourselves, but we shall
kill him ! Swear that you will all come to the Palace on
Sunday at twelve o'clock ! " The audience raised their hands
in token of assent.

Having assured himself that his scheme would be
supported by the working classes, Gapon sought the
alliance and co-operation of his opponents. To the Social
Democrats, whom he had hitherto been combating, he wrote
briefly as follows: "I have a hundred thousand workmen,
and I shall go with them to the Palace to present a petition.
If it is not granted, we shall make a revolution. Do you
agree ? "

The Social Democrats, greatly astonished at this sudden
change of attitude on the part of their antagonist, did not at
all relish his proposal, because their policy was not to present
petitions, but to extort concessions, and they strongly objected
to everything that might strengthen the hands of the Auto-
cratic Power, which they wished to destroy. They consented,
therefore, simply to discuss the matter. I proceed now to
quote from their delegates' account of what took place at
the conference : —

The company consisted of Gapon, two of his adherents and five
Social Democrats. All sat round a table, and the conversation began.
Gapon is a good-looking man, with dark complexion and thoughtful,
sympathetic face. He is evidently very tired, and, like the other
orators, he is hoarse. To the questions addressed to him he replies :
" The masses are at present so electrified that you may lead them
wherever you like. We shall go on Sunday to the palace and present
a petition. If we are allowed to pass without hindrance, we shall
march to the Palace Square and summon the Tsar from Tsdrskoe Selo.
We shall wait for him till the evening. When he arrives I shall go
to him with a deputation, and in presenting to him the petition, I
shall say : " Your Majesty ! Things cannot go on like this ; it is
time to give the people liberty. (Tak nelsyd; ford dat' narodu

700 RUSSIA

svobodu)." If he consents we shall insist that he take an oath before
the people. Only then shall we come away; and when we begin to
work again it will only be for eight hours a day. If, on the contrary,
we are prevented from entering the city, we shall request and beg,
and if we are not allowed to pass, we shall force our way. In the
Palace Square we shall find troops, and we shall entreat them to
come over to our side. If they beat us we shall strike back. There
may be sacrifices, but part of the troops will come over to us ; and
then, being ourselves strong in numbers, we shall make a revolution.
We shall construct barricades, pillage the armourers' shops; break
open the prisons, and seize the telephones and telegraphs. The
Socialist Revolutionaries have promised us bombs and the Democrats
money, and we shall be victorious."*

Such were the ideas which Gapon expounded at considerable
length. The impression he made on us was that he did not clearly
realise where he was going. Acting with sincerity, he was ready
to die; but he was convinced that the troops would not fire, and that
the deputation would be received by the Emperor. He did not
distinguish between different methods. Though not at all a partisan
of violent means, he had become infuriated against autocracy and
the Tsar, as was shown by his language when he said : " If that
blockhead of a Tsar comes out {Yesli Hot durdk Tsar viiidct). . . ."
Burning with the desire to attain his object, he childishly imagined
that a revolution could be accomplished in a day with empty hands !

Finding it impossible to dissuade Gapon from his
purpose, the Social Democrats informed him that they
would take advantage of the circumstances independently,
and that if he was allowed to enter the city with his deputa-
tion, they would organise revolutionary meetings in the
Palace Square.

The imperious tone used by Gapon at the public meet-
ings and private conferences was adopted by him also in
his letters to the Minister of the Interior and the Emperor.
To the former he wrote : —

The workmen and inhabitants of St. Petersburg of various classes
desire to see the Tsar at two o'clock on Sunday in the Winter Palace
Square, in order to lay before him personally their needs and those
of the whole Russian people. . . . Tell the Tsar that I and the
workmen, many thousands in numbers, have peacefully, with con-
fidence in him, but irrevocably resolved to proceed to the Winter
Palace. Let him show his confidence by deeds, and not by manifestoes.

* This confirms the information which reached me from other .sources
that Gapon was already in friendly communication with other revolutionary
groups.

GAPON'S PETITION 701

To the Emperor himself his language was not more
respectful : —

Sire ! I fear the Ministers have not told you the truth about the
situation. The whole people, trusting in you, has resolved to appear
at the Winter Palace at two o'clock in the afternoon, in order to inform
you of its needs. If you hesitate and do not appear before the people,
then you sever the moral bonds between you and them. Trust in you
will disappear, because innocent blood will be shed. Appear to-
morrow before your people and receive in a courageous spirit our
address of devotion ! I and the representatives of labour, my brave
comrades, guarantee the inviolability of your person.

Gapon was no longer merely the president of the Work-
men's Union; inebriated with the excitement which he had
done so much to create, he now imagined himself the repre-
sentative of the oppressed Russian people and the heroic
leader of a great political revolution. In the petition which
he had prepared he said little about the specific grievances
of the St. Petersburg workmen, and preferred to soar into
much higher regions : —

The bureaucracy has brought the country to the verge of ruin, and,
by a shameful war, is bringing it to its downfall. We have no voice
in decreeing the heavy burdens imposed on us ; we do not even know
for whom or why this money is wrung from the impoverished popula-
tion, and we do not know how it is expended. This state of things is
contrary to the Divine laws, and renders life unbearable. Assembled
before your palace, we plead for our salvation. Refuse not your aid;
raise your people from the tomb, and give them the means of working
out their own destiny. Rescue them from the intolerable yoke of
officialdom ; throw down the barrier which separates you from them,
in order that they may rule with you the country which was created
for their happiness — a happiness which is being wrenched from us,
leaving us nothing but sorrow and humiliation.

The Emperor, who was in residence at Tsarskoe Selo,
naturally declined the imperious summons to come to St.
Petersburg, and he thereby avoided an unseemly altercation
with the excited priest, as well as the boisterous public
meetings which the Social Democrats would have held in
the Palace Square. Orders were given to the police and
the troops to prevent the crowds of workmen from
penetrating into the centre of the city from the industrial

702 RUSSIA

suburbs. The rest need not be described in detail. On
Sunday morning many thousand workmen, accompanied by
their wives and children, and heedless of the warnings of
the officers commanding the Cossacks and infantry, tried
to force their way to the Palace; the troops fired, and many
of the demonstrators were killed or wounded. At one of
the first volleys Father Gapon fell ; but he turned out to
be quite unhurt, and with the assistance of his revolutionary
friends he escaped to Switzerland.

As soon as he had an opportunity of giving public
expression to his feelings, he indulged in very violent
language. In his letters and proclamations the Emperor is
called a miscreant and an assassin, and is described as
traitorous and bloodthirsty. To the Ministers he is equally
uncomplimentary. They appear to him an accursed band
of brigands, mamelukes, jackals, monsters. Against "the
Tsar, with his reptilian brood," and the Ministers he vows
vengeance: "Death to them all!" As for the means of
realising his sacred mission, he recommends bombs,
dynamite, wholesale terrorism, popular insurrection, paralys-
ing the life of the cities by the destruction of the water-
mains, the gas-pipes, the telegraphs and telephones, the
railways and tramways, the Government buildings, and the
prisons. At some moments he seems to imagine himself
invested with papal powers, for he anathematises the soldiers
who did their duty on the eventful day, whilst he blesses
and absolves from their oath of allegiance those who help
the nation to win liberty.

The brief remainder of Gapon's career did not redound
to his credit and it ended tragically. Before the close of the
year he had made his peace with the Government and had
returned to St. Petersburg, where he entertained close
relations, at one and the same time, with revolutionary
conspirators and the Criminal Investigation Department, with-
out gaining completely the confidence of either. According
to his own statements, the cause of the revolution was still
dearer to him than anything else, and nothing would ever
induce him to divulge to the authorities the secrets of the
revolutionary organisation ; but he recognised that all
attempts to overthrow the Government must be postponed

ASSASSINATION OF GAPON 703

for some years, and he hoped to play, during this period
of temporary tranquillity, the part of a well-intentioned
mediator between the two hostile camps. As a man of vague
ideas, unbridled imagination, and boundless vanity, he may
perhaps have persuaded himself that his scheme was feasible
and honourable, but for the ordinary observer who studies
closely his words and his acts, it is difficult to distinguish
his conduct at this time from that of a police informer,
drawing considerable sums of money from the Government.
Certainly the revolutionaries regarded him simply as a police
spy, and one of their "militant organisations" punished him
as such.

The circumstances may be related very briefly. On
April 20th, 1906, when he had been a few months in St.
Petersburg, he left suddenly for Ozerki, a small village in
Finland near the Russian frontier, in the hope of being
able to purchase from a noted terrorist, for the sum of
;{,'2,500, the secret of a conspiracy which had been formed
against the life of the Emperor, and for two or three weeks
nothing was heard of him by his friends. Then appeared
in the St. Petersburg newspapers an anonymous communi-
cation, emanating evidently from a well-informed revolu-
tionary source, to the effect that George Gapon had been
tried by a workmen's secret tribunal, and had been found
guilty of having acted as an agent provocateur, of having
squandered the money of the workmen, and of having defiled
the honour and memory of the comrades who fell on the
"Red Sundav." In consequence of these acts, of which he
was said to have made a full confession, the tribunal had
condemned him to death, and the sentence had been duly
carried out.

This mysterious announcement, which harmonised only
too w^ell with certain facts within the cognisance of the
Criminal Investigation Department, induced the authorities
to make a careful investigation in the neighbourhood of
Ozerki ; and there, in a lonely, unoccupied cottage, sur-
rounded by pine woods, Gapon's body was found. The
post-mortem examination showed that his hands had been
tied tightly behind his back, and he had been strangled
with a rope. There was strong reason to believe that the

704 RUSSIA

act of vengeance had been perpetrated by the militant
organisation of the Socialist Revolutionaries, but the party
publicly denied the charge, and the members of the so-called
Workmen's Tribunal remained, so far as I know, un-
discovered.

M. Witte is reported to have said once to some workmen :
"Gapon is a horse that I should not like to ride. I do not
know whether he will carry you along the beaten track, or
whether he will take the bit in his teeth, and make straight
for the precipice. That will depend on his mood at a given
moment." Whoever pronounced that judgment had gauged
accurately Gapon's character.

The Red Sunday had a very great influence in fanning
the public excitement all over the country, but its chief
significance lay in the fact that it heralded the appearance
of the industrial proletariat on the political stage. Hitherto
the so-called Liberation Movement — that is to say, the
agitation against the bureaucracy and autocracy — had been
chiefly confined to the educated classes, whose aim was to
obtain democratic parliamentary institutions; now the move-
ment was reinforced, and was soon to be dominated,
by the workmen of the factories and foundries, led by the
secret committee of the Social Democrats, who aimed at
replacing existing institutions by the Socialist Republic.

In view of this new danger the Government considered it
necessary to adopt exceptional measures of precaution. The
police throughout the Empire was placed under the orders
of General Trepov, who had shown unusual energy in
Moscow. Particular attention was directed to the factory
workers who were all in an excited condition. The clubs
which had been organised by Gapon for the purpose of
preserving them from the revolutionary contagion were
closed, and two commissions were successively appointed to
consider labour questions; but in the existing strained
relations between employers and employed no practical
results could be obtained, and many of the unemployed were
deported to their native villages. Strikes were frequent,
especially in the southern and western provinces, where
industry was highly developed and Social Democrats were
numerous. All classes were eager to protest against the

BUREAUCRATIC REFORMS 705

old order of things, and strikes were the favourite form of
protest. It was adopted not only by factory workers,
artisans and private servants, but also by the organs of local
self-government and public institutions. Several Zemstvos,
declaring that serious work was impossible under existing
conditions, demanded a national assembly and closed their
sessions. The Universities and High Schools, in which
professors and students were equally filled with reform
enthusiasm, closed their doors, and the street demonstrations
of the students and schoolboys led to conflicts with the
police. In the outlying regions, where the administrative
control was weak, the disorders were most serious. At
Batum and Baku fighting took place between Tartars and
Armenians; and in Georgia there was something like an
armed rising. Even in the comparatively tranquil provinces
the excitement spread from the towns to the rural districts,
and the peasants demanded more land. Nor was the tragic
element of terrorism wanting ; attempts were made on the
lives of officials, and on February 17th, 1905, the Grand
Duke Serge, an uncle of the Emperor, was assassinated by
a bomb-thrower in Moscow.

Meanwhile the Meads of Departments and the Council of
Ministers were working day and night to carry out the urgent
bureaucratic reforms ordered by the Emperor in his decree
of December 25th, 1904. Only those who have seen the
voluminous minutes of the Council meetings during those
few weeks can form an adequate conception of the enormous
amount of work done. Constitutionally and habitually in-
dolent, the Russian bureaucrat resembles the giant of
Russian mvthology who dozes for many years, and rises
suddenly to accomplish the most astounding feats of which
no one deemed him capable. On this occasion the Tchinov-
niks produced a vast number of folios, in which the problems
put before them were elucidated from the philosophical,
historical and practical points of view, and the solutions
recommended were supported by countless arguments,
forcible and ingenious; but before the recommendations
could be put into execution the Government shifted its
ground in a verv sudden and unexpected way.

On the morning of March 3rd, 1905, appeared a manifesto

X

7o6 RUSSIA

which showed that the Government was still resolved to
continue the policy of resistance which it had hitherto
followed. In solemn, semi-ecclesiastical language the
Emperor deplores the outbreak of internal disturbances at a
moment when the glorious sons of Russia are fighting with
self-sacrificing bravery, and offering up their lives for the
Faith, the Tsar and the Fatherland ; but he draws consolation
and hope from remembering that, with the help of the
prayers of the Holy Orthodox Church, under the banner of
the Tsar's autocratic might, Russia has frequently passed
through great wars and internal troubles, and has always
issued from them with fresh strength. He appeals, there-
fore, to all right-minded subjects, to whatever class they
may belong, to join him in the great and sacred task of
overcoming the stubborn foreign foe and eradicating revolt
at home.

This patriotic pronouncement, containing no reference
to internal reforms, produced in the Liberal world feelings
of surprise, disappointment and dismay; and these feelings
were in some measure shared by the Ministers, who knew
nothing of the manifesto until they saw it in the Official
Gazette. In the course of the forenoon some of them paid
a visit to Tsarskoe Sel6, and respectfully submitted to the
Emperor that such a document must have a deplorable effect
on public opinion. In consequence of their representations
his Majesty consented to supplement the manifesto by a
rescript to the Minister of the Interior in a very different
style. He there explained that the Government, in carrying
out his intentions for the welfare of the people, was to have
the co-operation of "the experienced elements of the com-
munity." Then followed the memorable words :

" I am resolved, henceforth, with the help of God, to convene the
most worthy men, possessing the confidence of the people and elected
by them, in order that they may participate in the preparation and
consideration of legislative measures."

For the carrying out of this resolution a commission was
to be at once convened under the presidency of M. Bulyghin,
Minister of the Interior.

As a further concession to the popular demands the

IMPERIAL CONCESSIONS 707

Emperor issued simultaneously with the rescript an ukaz
to the Senate, in which he announced that he considered
it well to afford to his loyal subjects, zealously working for
the common weal and the requirements of the State, the
possibility of being heard by himself. For that purpose
he imposed on the Council of Ministers under his own
presidency,

" The duty of examining and judging the views and proposals
addressed to him by private persons and institutions, regarding ques-
tions connected with the improvement of the State organisation and
the amelioration of the national welfare."

The invitation to send "views and proposals" for the
consideration of the Government was utilised to continue the
political agitation. The Bulyghin Commission was inun-
dated with petitions and addresses, explaining the wants of
the nation in general and of various sections of it in
particular. Conferences and consultations were held by all
sections of the community; members of the Zemstvos and
town councils, lawyers, academicians, professors, school
teachers, physicians, pharmaceutical chemists, office clerks
and bookkeepers, railway servants and policemen. In these
assemblies there was remarkable unanimity on the main
points. What they all wanted for the country was a National
Assembly elected by universal, equal, direct and secret
suffrage; and, for themselves individually, inviolability of
person and domicile together with freedom of the Press and
the right of organising associations and holding public
meetings. Meanwhile, they formed "unions," and then
created a "Union of Unions" to ensure greater unity of
action. Even the higher ecclesiastical dignitaries woke up
for a moment from their accustomed lethargy, remembered
how they had lived for many years under the rod of M.
Pobedonostsev, recognised as uncanonical such subordination
to a layman, and petitioned for the resuscitation of the
Russian Patriarchate, which had been abolished bv Peter
the Great.

By this time the inordinate activity of the Heads of
Departments and the Council of Ministers was beginning to
bear fruit. In May a certain measure of religious freedom

7o8 RUSSIA

was f^ranted to the Old Ritualists, the Alien Confessions,
and the Jews ; and about the same time edicts were issued
for the purpose of improving the condition of the peasantry.
These reforms, admirable in themselves, did not at all calm
the public excitement, because they dealt with matters in
which public opinion for the moment took little interest.
What the reformers were thinking about was not the
disabilities of Old Ritualists, or the details of peasant life,
but the necessity of replacing the effete, inefficient bureau-
cratic regime by parliamentary institutions. The Emperor
had, as we have seen, declared his intention of summoning
to the capital "the most worthy men " to share in the
discussion of legislative proposals, but there was reason to
suspect that he intended to create merely a consultative
assembly, and consultative assemblies were no longer in
favour even among the Moderates. The choice was now
supposed to lie between a legislative and a constituent
assembly. In plain language, the issue now was whether
parliamentary institutions should be introduced into the
existing form of government, or whether Autocracy, with its
centralised bureaucratic machinery, should be thrown bodily
into the melting-pot, and an entirely new system evolved by
an assembly with unlimited powers, resembling the famous
Consthuante of the French Revolution. Thus reform versus
revolution was the all-important question which was agitat-
ing the public mind, and there could be little doubt as to the
direction in which public opinion was drifting.

Early in June, 1905, the revolutionary as opposed to the
reform current was much strengthened by the news of the
great naval disaster of Tsushima, in which the new Russian
fleet, sent out to the Far East to recover the command of
the sea, was completely destroyed, and all hopes of reversing
the tide of war were finally shattered. At once a chorus of
wild, patriotic indignation was heard all over the Empire.
In the Lithuanian, Polish and southern provinces the
disorders in the towns and the discontent in the rural
districts increased; while in the Caucasus anarchy gained
the upper hand. At Sebastopol militarv riots took place, a
mutiny broke out on board the battleship Prince Potomh'm,
and the mutineers threatened to bombard the town. For

POPULAR DISCONTENT 709

ten days this vessel cruised about under the red flag in the
Black Sea, and hnaily surrendered to the Roumanian
authorities in the port of Constanza. Everywhere there was
a breakdown of authority.

The influence of these events was reflected in the dis-
cussions and resolutions of a new conference of Zemstvo
Liberals and town councillors held at Moscow. In a
strongly worded address to the Emperor, which might
almost be called a remonstrance, it referred to "the
criminal neglect and abuses" on the part of his advisers;
to "the vices of a hateful and ruinous bureaucratic system ";
to the non-fulfilment of promises given in manifestoes, and
to the absolute need of summoning at once national
representatives elected by universal suffrage. The address
concluded thus :

" Do not delay, Sire I At this terrible hour of national trial, great
is your responsibility before God and Russia ! "

When the deputation for presenting this address was
received by the Emperor on June 19th the leader, Prince
Serge Trubetskoi, made a long speech, respectful in tone,
but very strong in substance, and the Emperor made a short
reply, in which he said :

"Cast aside your doubts; my will, the will of the Tsar, to call
together representatives of the people is unchangeable. Their labours
will be regularly applied to the work of the Empire. . . . Let the
union of the Tsar and all Russia be established as of old. ... I
hope you will co-operate with me in the work."

This incident produced everywhere momentary rejoicing,
because it was felt that at last the voice of the people had
been heard in the palace of the Tsar; but very soon the
dissensions began anew. The authorities were irritated by
the publication of the address and of Prince Trubetskoi's
speech; on the other hand, the Union of Unions was
with difficulty restrained from passing a vote of censure
on the deputation for its having been so moderate in its
language.

Another congress of reformers, which met at Moscow on
July 19, 1905, may be '^ere mentioned, because it illustrates

710 RUSSIA

the curious relations existing at that time between the
reformers and the authorities, who disapproved of the
so-called congress, conferences and consultations, but did
not venture to use their customary repressive measures.
The Moscow Congress was held in the spacious house of
Prince Paul Dolgoroukov, and when the police appeared
there was a moment of uncertainty and confusion ; but
tranquillity was immediately restored by the house pro-
prietor. He said quietly to the deputies that the officials
were merely discharging their regular duties, but as the
congress had more important matters on hand it had better
proceed with its deliberations. Thereupon the police in-
spector, with the bonhomie which is not unusual among
Russian officials of all ranks, contented himself with drawing
up a protocol, and remained in the hall as an interested
spectator.

On August 19th, 1905, the Constitution, prepared by the
Minister of the Interior and revised by the Council of
Ministers, was published in the form of an Imperial decree.
In the accompanying manifesto the Emperor indicated
clearly the essential character of the new institutions. The
time had come, he said, for summoning elected representa-
tives from the whole of Russia to take a constant and active
part in the preparation of laws. These deputies should
constitute a special consultative body, entrusted with
the preliminary elaboration and discussion of legislative
measures, and the examination of the State Budget.

" For this reason, while -preserving the fundamental law concern-
ing the autocratic Power, we have deemed it well to form a State
Duma, and to approve regulations for the elections ... so that
it may be able to assemble not later than the middle of January, 1906."

This " Bul^ghin Constitution," as it was called, \vas
universally regarded as miserably insufficient, because it
created merely a consultative Chamber, preserved intact the
autocratic power, and made the Ministry responsible not to
the Chamber, but to the Emperor. The Liberals, however,
considered that it might be accepted as an instalment of the
desired reforms, and used as a stepping-stone to the attain-
ment of greater political rights. On the other hand, the

A REVOLUTIONARY LEADER 711

more revolutionary groups anathematised the whole project,
and one of them passed a resolution that anyone showing
himself satisfied with it should be declared a traitor to the
cause of the people. At this point, therefore, the reformers
and the revolutionaries began to part company. The latter
took the lead in the attack on the Government, but among
their political strategists there was a serious difference of
opinion. Some of them were in favour of an armed insur-
rection, whilst others, recognising that the masses were
unarmed and very imperfectly organised, recommended a
general political strike. After prolonged discussions the
latter idea prevailed.

As soon as this cardinal point was settled, the Social
Democrats set to work with great energy, and they were
very efficiently supported, not only by the workmen, but by
some sections of the educated classes. In St. Petersburg
the University and the higher Technical Schools decided "to
throw open their doors for the requirements of the Revolu-
tion," and thousands of persons of both sexes took advantage
of this opportunity for ventilating their grievances. In-
dignation meetings were held daily in the class-rooms by
hastily formed "unions," among which figured prominently
the school teachers, the minor State officials, the dentists, the
watchmakers and the railway servants. It was even pro-
posed to hold a meeting of "the indoctrinated policemen " — ■
that is to say, the policemen who had been taught to
sympathise with the revolutionary movement. At these
meetings the orators announced that a decisive conflict with
Autocracy was inevitable, and sedulously preached the
doctrine that the proletariat must oppose the party which
demanded mere Liberal reforms. At the same time,
numerous trained agitators were very active among the
workmen, and induced many of them to strike. In some
of the industrial suburbs the strikers, marching in procession
through the streets and singing revolutionary songs, visited
the factories which were still working and compelled their
hesitating comrades to come out.

At this critical moment what the revolutionaries chiefly
required was a bold, capable leader, and such a leader
suddenly appeared in the person of M. Khrustalev, a man

712 RUSSIA

of remarkable ability, whose name was quite unknown to
the general public. He conceived the idea of a central
elective body which should formulate the vague aspirations
of the proletariat, and direct its operations. In the course
of a few days he realised this idea under the name of the
Council of Labour Delegates, and issued in its name
a proclamation calling on the workmen of all denominations
to join in a Pan-Russian general strike. The call was
largely responded to, both in St. Petersburg and in the
provinces, and the council's efforts were greatly aided by a
strike of railwaymen, which had just begun independently
at Moscow, and which rapidly paralysed the whole railway
system of the country. By this fortuitous coincidence the
army of strikers was reinforced by a contingent of 750,000
men, and the authorities were terribly embarrassed by the
interruption in the ordinary means of communication — an
embarrassment which was soon increased by a strike in the
telegraph department. In St. Petersburg the strike reached
its zenith on October 29th, when nearly all the shops
remained closed, the tramways were stopped, the cabs
disappeared from the streets, the supply of electricity was
cut off, the water supply was threatened, and the inhabitants
were trying to lay in a supply of food as if the city were
about to undergo a siege.

Whilst these menacing preparations were being made by
the revolutionaries, the Government remained so inactive
that it was commonly supposed to be panic-stricken. In
reality it was halting between two opinions— between further
conciliation and vigorous repression. Most of the Tsar's
advisers were in favour of the latter course, and already
troops were being concentrated in and around the capital;
but this view was strenuously opposed by M. Witte, who
was now becoming the most influential member of the
Government. He had just returned from America, where
he had brought to a successful termination the peace
negotiations with Japan ; and, as a reward for his diplomatic
services, the title of Count was conferred on him by the
Emperor. A strong man, fruitful in resource and courageous
in action, he seemed to many people the only official person
capable of dealing with the complicated and dangerous

WITTE'S OPTIMISM 7^3

situation. His defects as a statesman had not yet become
apparent.

Judging by his conduct as President of the Council
during the next few months, we must suppose that Count
Witte had the laudable ambition to play the part of a
Russian Mirabeau. Endowed by nature with inordinate
self-conhdence, which had been confirmed and intensified
by his brilliant ofiicial career, he imagined that, without
having recourse to the repressive measures recommended by
his more prudent colleagues, he could "ride in the whirl-
wind and direct the storm." In plain language, he believed
that he could satisfy the popular aspirations by liberal con-
cessions and promises, and at the same time restrain and
guide the extreme parties by dexterous diplomacy and
powerful arguments. The Emperor hesitated to adopt his
programme, on the ground that the announcement of radical
reforms, which could not be immediately realised, would
tend, in the actual condition of the public mind, to increase
ratlier than calm the excitement; but Count Witte clung
obstinately to his optimistic convictions, and, having prepared
a manifesto and an explanatory memorandum in accordance
with his scheme, he made the immediate publication of these
two documents the condition of his remaining in office.

After some vain attempts to introduce modifications into
the text, the two documents were published on the evening
of October 30th, 1905. In the manifesto the Emperor
declared that the Ministers, while providing for the restora-
tion of order, and for the security of peaceful citizens, were
instructed to carry out the following "inflexible resolutions " :

(i) To confer on the population the immovable founda-
tions of civil liberty, including inviolability of person, liberty
of conscience and freedom of speech, together with the right
of holding public meetings and forming associations.

(2) To include in the State Duma representatives of the
unenfranchised classes.

(3) To lay down as an absolute rule that no law could be
valid without the approval of the State Duma, and that the
deputies should be able to take part in supervising the
authorities so as to ensure their acting in conformity with
the laws.

714 RUSSIA

In the long explanatory memorandum which accompanied
the manifesto, Count Witte gave his views on the situation
and the means of improving it, as if he had been delivering
a lecture to an academic audience. He considered that the
excitement which had seized certain strata of Russian society-
was caused, not by the organised activity of the extreme
parties (as was commonly assumed in the higher official
circles), but by "a disturbance of the equilibrium between
the intellectual tendencies of the educated classes and the
outward forms of their life." In other words, Russia had
outgrown the forms of her existing political organisation,
and was seeking to obtain a new order of things on the basis
of civil liberty. From these and similar considerations of an
equally abstruse kind, the practical conclusion was drawn
that the Government must at once confer upon the people
such elementary civil liberties as inviolability of person and
domicile, freedom of conscience, freedom of the press, and
the right to form associations and hold public meetings;
thereafter it must guarantee the inalienability of the civil
liberties conferred.

So far. Count Witte's aim evidently was to conciliate the
reformers by convincing them that he understood their views
and sympathised with their aspirations; and if he had
stopped at this point he might have gained a great deal of
momentary popularity. He considered it necessary, how-
ever, as a responsible statesman, to warn the impatient public
that his benevolent intentions could not be immediately
realised. The intended reforms naturally involved an
enormous amount of legislative work, so that a certain space
of time must elapse before the new law's could be imposed
on the officials, and introduced into the manners and customs
of the people. Moreover, the granting of the rights of civil
liberty must be accompanied by legal limitations for the
protection of the rights of third parties, and for the tran-
quillity and securitv of the State.

The simultaneous publication of the manifesto and the
memorandum on the evening of October 30, 1905, produced
in St. Petersburg a momentary enthusiasm, which found
expression in noisy street demonstrations; but to those who
examined carefully the two documents, neither of ttem

REVOLUTIONARY DEMONSTRATIONS 715

seemed wholly satisfactory. They contained no reference to
an amnesty for political offences, which was universally
desired at that moment, nor to the Constituent Assembly
which was expected to establish the Democratic Republic.
As for the promised reforms, they were not only miserably
insufficient in themselves, but they were to be prepared
by the hated bureaucracy, their introduction was to be a
slow process extending over months or years, and they were
to be limited by certain restrictions for the protection of
so-called "third parties," and for the maintenance of public
tranquillity. That was not the sort of liberty demanded by
the people, and Count Witte's Liberal phrases did not pro-
tect him against the suspicion that he was an incarnation of
bureaucracy like his avowedly Conservative colleagues.
Still, on the whole, the publication of the two documents
might be regarded as a victory, not only for the Liberals,
but also for the revolutionaries. By the former, the
promises could be accepted as a foretaste of better things
to come ; and by the latter, as a proof that with a little more
effort the Government might be pushed over the precipice.
In accordance with this conviction, a large number of young
women spent the night in preparing red flags for the pro-
jected revolutionary demonstrations on the morrow.

As arranged, the triumphal processions, waving the red
flags, and singing revolutionary songs, marched through the
principal streets on the following day, but they did not evoke
such harmonious enthusiasm as was expected. At several
points they came into conflict not only with the police and
the military, but also with counter-demonstrations, organised
by the Conservative and Reactionary parties, who had
hitherto remained so quiescent that their very existence was
generally overlooked. In more than a hundred provincial
towns similar conflicts took place, and the number of
casualties has been estimated by one authority at 3,000
killed and 10,000 seriously wounded. As to the real nature
and origin of this counter-revolutionary movement, authorities
differ. Some represent it as a purely spontaneous expression
of popular indignation against the disturbers of the peace,
whilst others maintain that it was organised by a small
group of Reactionaries, with the co-operation, or at least the

7i6 RUSSIA

connivance, of the local authorities and the police. In sup-
port of this latter view some ugly facts were published at
the time, and confirmed subsequently by a judicial inquiry.
It was proved, for example, that in the police department
in St. Petersburg, a large quantity of inflammatory pro-
clamations were secretly printed by a subordinate official
called Komissarov, who was repudiated by his superiors but
never punished. Insinuations were made even against
Count Witte, but he must certainly be absolved from all
complicity, not only on the faith of his own indignant
protestations, but also on the ground that the disturbances
traversed his plans for pacifying the country by means of
promises to all parties and good advice to everyone
concerned.

In this reactionary outburst the most curious feature is
that the popular indignation was vented chiefly on the
peaceable Jewish population inhabiting the towns of the
south-western and southern provinces. These poor people
were pillaged and maltreated for several days to such an
extent that in Western Europe their sufferings awakened
a general feeling of commiseration, and the Russian word
pogrom (devastation), bv which the disorders were commonly
designated, became for Englishmen a familiar term. Why
the Israelites should have been chosen as the victims of
reactionary fury, I have never heard satisfactorily explained.
No doubt many of the young Jews, who felt keenly and
resented bitterly the disabilities and restrictions to which
their race was subjected, had thrown themselves with ardour
into the Liberation movement, which held out the prospect
of equality to all races and creeds. No doubt some of them
had distinguished themselves not only in the political
propaganda and agitation, but also in the acts of Terrorism.*
In these circumstances we can understand how the Con-
servatives and Reactionaries should have become anti-
Semites, and how some of the more fanatical and malicious
among them should have harboured schemes of vengeance.
It is difficult, however, to imagine how the Conservative or

* The late M. Plehve, when Minister of the lYiterior, assured me that
of the political delinquents known to the police, more than 70 per cent.
were Jews. lie was thinking probably of the south-western and southern
provinces at the time.

MUTINY AT CRONSTADT 717

the Reactionary cause could be advanced by stirring up the
hatred of the Russian lower classes against their Jewish
fellow-citizens.

Perhaps a more plausible explanation is to be found in
the theory that an anti-revolutionary demonstration was
required for party purposes, and that the only means of
producing even the semblance of such a thing was to stir
up the latent hatred of the lower classes against the Jews.
But this theory does not explain all the facts, for in some
places — in Tomsk, for example — the victims were revolu-
tionary rioters of purely Russian nationality.

Thus the manifesto and the memorandum, which Count
Witte expected to act like oil on the troubled waters, had
the directly opposite effect, and new disappointments awaited
him. No sooner had the pogroms in the provincial towns
ceased than a mutiny broke out (November 8th, 1905) among
the sailors and soldiers in Cronstadt, and the disorders in
Poland increased to such an extent that on November 13th
that part of the Empire had to be placed under martial law.
In the capital, too, the conciliatory Premier had new diffi-
culties to contend with.

The St. Petersburg workmen, believing that the con-
ciliatory attitude of the Government was due to the pressure
which they had brought to bear on the authorities, were
elated with their success, and impatient for further political
action. In this exuberant frame of mind they proposed to
try the effect of another general strike. In vain their
Council of Labour Deputies, headed by Khrustalev, tried to
persuade them that they ought to husband their meagre
resources, and prepare for a decisive armed rising in the
more distant future. The men were obstinate, and the
Council, in order to preserve the semblance of control, was
obliged to submit. It accordingly proclaimed a new general
strike as a protest; firstly, against subjecting to a court
martial the Cronstadt mutineers, "who had risen in defence
of national freedom"; secondly, against capital punishment
in general; and, thirdly, against the state of siege in Poland.

For a few days the proclamation was responded to with
enthusiasm. Again the workmen paraded the streets of the
industrial quarters, waving red flags and singing the

7i8 RUSSIA

Russian Marseillaise ; and again Count Witte tried to calm
the excitement by friendly admonition. Addressing the
workmen's delegates as "little brothers," he exhorted them,
in consideration for their wives and children, to return to
their work, and assured them that the Emperor hiid ordered
his Ministers to direct special attention to the labour ques-
tion : "Only give us time, and everything possible will be
done for you." The workmen were not to be cajoled. In
reply to the Premier's friendly message, the Council ex-
pressed its astonishment that "an Imperial favourite "
should take the liberty of calling the St. Petersburg workmen
his "little brothers," and it refused to follow his advice; but
the arrogant tone which it thought fit to adopt was not
justified by results. The strike did not become general,
and at the end of five days it ingloriously collapsed.

By this time the men ought to have recognised that, as
they had no strike fund, and their individual resources were
exhausted, their best policy was to recuperate before
beginning a new struggle; but they were anxious to obtain
something tangible for their past sacrifices, and they
imagined that they might, without striking, obtain the
eight-hours working day, which the Social Democrats had
taught them to regard as an essential article of the labour
programme. For this purpose they adopted a peculiar
procedure which had come into fashion in those stormy days,
and for which a new legal term, "seizure-right" {sakhvatnoe
pravo) had been specially invented. As this new institution,
which might more correctly be called a new form of illegality,
is a characteristic feature of the time, and appears often
in the current literature, I may devote a few lines to the
subject.

Seizure-right consisted simply in forcibly taking posses-
sion of what was desired, in the hope that the act of violence
would be tacitly accepted as a fait accompli by all persons
concerned, and would consequently remain unchallenged and
unpunished. The Council of Labour Deputies repeatedly
used this strange procedure with complete success. When
it found difficulty, for example, in getting its party organ
printed, it seized suddenly one night the printing office of a
Conservative newspaper, cut off the employes from all con-

" SEIZURE-RIGHT " 719

nection with the outer world, and compelled them, on pain
of instant execution by revolver, to do what was required.
In this way a number of the party organ was produced at
the expense of the party's political opponents, and the
authorities, with the timidity and apathy which characterised
them at that period, refrained from instituting judicial
proceedings.

In employing this new institution for the purpose of
shortening the hours of labour, the workmen adapted the
procedure to the circumstances of the case. As they
encountered at first no active resistance, they used no
violence or threats, and acted simply as if their demands
had been conceded. Each day, as soon as they had worked
for eight hours, they left the factory in a body, and when
pay-day came round they insisted on obtaining the same
wages as under the previous system. But here, to their
disappointment, they discovered that they had reckoned with-
out the host. Following the example of the workmen, the
employers combined, and began to retaliate by a lock-out ;
and as the men had no resources to fall back upon they were
very soon obliged to capitulate. Having thus become better
acquainted with the real conditions of the labour problem,
they showed themselves for some time much more concilia-
tory.

While the troubles were thus gradually subsiding in St.
Petersburg, the revolutionary fever was breaking out with
fresh violence in other parts of the Empire. During the
month of November, 1905, alarming telegrams were received
from many provincial towns. Everywhere the population
seemed to be in a restless state, and disturbances were
beginning among the peasantry. At Moscow the Committee
of the Peasants' Union assembled to prepare a plan of
campaign; in the Baltic Provinces the Lettish peasantry
pillaged in wholesale fashion the estates of the landed pro-
prietors, and established several provisional revolutionary
Governments; in Grodno there was a strike of the police; at
Saratov, in the Governor's residence. General Sakharov was
assassinated by a female Terrorist; everywhere the post and
telegraph services were working irregularly. Worst of all,
the Government could no longer be sure of the troops, for

720 RUSSIA

the mutinous spirit which had appeared in Cronstadt was
spreading to the farthest limits of the Empire. At Vladi-
vostok the naval reserve pillaged and burnt many of the
houses; at Irkutsk the local militia set fire to their barracks;
the Kwantung fortress-artillery, returning from captivity in
Japan, rose in mutiny and wounded several of their officers ;
at Kief a company of sappers mutinied; at Sebastopol a
section of the fleet, under the command of a self-appointed
officer. Lieutenant Schmidt, hoisted the red flag and fired
upon the town, whilst a portion of the garrison arrested their
officers, and were joined in their riotous proceedings by the
dock labourers. All these disturbances and others of a less
serious kind took place during a single month (November,

1905)-

Evidently the area of disturbance was extending, and the
revolutionary movement as a whole was undergoing a
change. The industrial proletariat, directed by the Social
Democrats, was no longer in the vanguard, and there was
now no serious danger of the bureaucratic machine
being thrown out of gear by another general strike. Ex-
perience had taught the workmen that the material benefits
which they had chiefly at heart were not to be obtained by
the methods which their educated teachers recommended;
and these teachers felt that they were losing their hold on
their pupils and on the masses. In these circumstances the
Social Democratic Committee in St. Petersburg, though it
had little or no hope of overthrowing the Government,
determined to make a grand efl"ort to recover something of
its lost prestige. The field chosen for this exploit was
Moscow, where there was still a considerable amount of
excitement, and where there were very few troops. Here
a Committee of Workmen's Delegates — a pale reflection
of the arrogant Council of Labour Deputies in St. Peters-
burg— proclaimed a general strike and prepared an armed
rising. Noisy public meetings and monster processions of
the ordinary type were speedily followed by conflicts with
the police and the troops, and the desultory street fighting
lasted for nearly a week; but it was not of a very obstinate
kind, and the barricades were of the most flimsy description.
A couple of regiments, summoned hastily by the Governor-

UNREST IN THE VILLAGES 721

General, sufficed to quell the revolt without any very great
loss of life.

This closed for the moment the persistent efforts of the
Social Democrats to destroy Autocracy by means of the in-
dustrial proletariat, but the revolutionary movement con-
tinued under another form. When the Social Democrats
fell back to the rear, to reorganise their shattered forces and
prepare new strategical plans of attack, their place was taken
by the Socialist-Revolutionaries, and the exhausted industrial
proletariat was replaced by the turbulent elements in the
peasantry.

We have already seen* that the Socialist-Revolutionaries,
in opposition to the Social Democrats, always maintained
that the working classes of the towns were not strong enough
to destroy the Autocratic Power, and that the peasantry
ought to be called in as powerful allies in the work of
destruction. As recent events seemed to confirm their
views they now proceeded to put their principles into
practice, and they found the soil well prepared for the ex-
periment.

Ever since the Emancipation of the Serfs in 1861, when
the proprietors were allowed to retain about the half of their
estates, the peasantry had been expecting a general distribu-
tion of all the land among themselvesf ; and now, when they
heard of the wonderful things that were taking place in St.
Petersburg and other towns, they imagined that the happy
moment had arrived. Very anxiously they made inquiries of
everyone likely to have information on the subject ; and from
one source, at least, they received ample confirmation of their
hopes. In many villages appeared educated young men of
the student type, who explained to them that by right all the
land belonged to them, but that in order to get possession
of it they must expel the landed proprietors. This seemed
to them an easy matter in the abnormal state of the country
when the "seizure-right" was more or less in fashion among
all classes ; they had only to seize the land and resist obsti-
nately all attempts to eject them until the fait accompli had
created automatically a right of property. The young men

* Vide supra, p. 6S4.

t Vide supra. Chap. XXIX.

722 RUSSIA

of student type who made such suggestions were, I need
hardly say, the missionaries of the SociaHst-Revolutionary
party. Their propaganda was so successful that in the
course of a few weeks violent agrarian disturbances swept
like a hurricane over the fertile Black-Earth zone from the
banks of the Volga, across the provinces of Saratov, Tambov,
Kursk and Voronezh, far into Little Russia.

The movement assumed various forms according to local
conditions. In certain localities where bad harvests had re-
duced the people to the brink of starvation the villagers came
in a body to the proprietor and demanded merely that he
should give them his store of grain. If he refused, they
took it unceremoniously by force, and either distributed it
amongst the households according to the size of the families,
or carried it off in disorderly fashion according to their
several means of transport, in which case the richer members
of the Commune, who possessed several horses and carts,
got the lion's share of the spoil. If the proprietor, from fear
or other motives, offered no resistance, the raiders sometimes
left him a quantity sufficient for his household wants, and
occasionally even held out to him a prospect of receiving
compensation from the Government, which usually made
advances to the population in times of scarcity. This was
the mildest form of procedure, and it seems to have been
not very frequent. Generally the peasants wanted the land
as well as the grain, and in the hope of getting rid of the
proprietor permanently they took to pillaging and burning
his house and farmsteadings, without inflicting in this part
of the country any unnecessary personal violence. Much
more savage and cruel were the proceedings in the Baltic
Provinces, where a race antagonism had long existed between
the Lettish peasants and the Teutonic landed proprietors,
and where the movement had a more decidedly political
character. There many acts of wanton destruction and
cruelty were committed, and numerous attempts were made
to establish a provincial revolutionary Government. An
apparently well-informed authority stated that at one
moment in a single province there were no less than twenty
independent republics. However this may be, the Govern-
ment considered it necessary to send into these provinces a

RURAL STRIKES 723

punitive expedition, which suppressed the disturbances with
great severity.

In the soulhcrn region the unanimity which at hrst reigned
among the peasants in their work of spoliation very soon
disappeared, and they began to quarrel among themselves
as to how the land should be disposed of. Gradually it
became possible to distinguish in the chaos three vaguely
defined groups which were designated by one investigator
as the paupers, the well-to-do peasants, and the village
aristocracy, differing from each other by the relative amount
of means they possessed for the cultivation of the land.
When this point had been reached, many of the village
aristocrats were in danger of being despoiled as the pro-
prietors had been. Finally the Government succeeded in
restoring order, and then the agrarian movement assumed a
new form — that of rural strikes for the purpose of com-
pelling the landed proprietors to reduce the rent of land
hired by the richer peasants, and to increase the wages of the
agricultural labourers, who had little or no land of their own
to cultivate.

During these widespread disorders and numerous troubles
which filled up the winter months of 1905-6, Count Witte
clung to his idea of restoring tranquillity by showing himself
conciliatory to all the mutually hostile parties, which were
united only in their hatred of the Government. To all of
them he appealed pathetically that they should grant him
time to realise as far as possible their demands and aspira-
tions by means of definite legislative measures. All in vain !
He was universally distrusted. The Conservatives and
Reactionaries condemned him as a half-disguised Revolu-
tionary seeking to gain popular favour for secret selfish
designs of his own, and some of them suspected that at a
critical moment he might throw off the mask and proclaim
himself President of the Democratic Republic ! On the other
hand, not only the Revolutionaries, but even the Constitu-
tional Reformers, regarded him as an incarnation of the
bureaucratic spirit and a formidable obstacle to the intro-
duction of all genuinely democratic institutions. History will
decide how far the multifarious accusations brought against
him were well founded, but meanwhile the impartial out-

724 RUSSIA

sider, while recognising liis grave defects as a statesman,
cannot refrain from experiencing a feeling of commiseration
in watching his energetic efforts to solve without bloodshed
a fearfully complicated problem.

Some of his efforts to avert revolution may be noted in
passing. Before the war, when Minister of Finance, Witte
had endeavoured to improve the condition of the working
classes by Factory Acts, and he had organised a great system
of "consultations" with a view to improving the economic
condition of the peasantry. During the acute period of the
crisis he had induced the Emperor to grant a comprehensive
amnesty for political offences and to relieve the peasantry
from the burden of redemption payments for their land, and
he had even attempted to form a non-bureaucratic Cabinet,
including the more moderate leaders of the reform move-
ment. But when mutinies broke out in the army and
navy, when revolutionary organisations openly proclaimed
their intention of overthrowing the Government, when
street-fighting went on in Moscow for more than a week,
and when a hurricane of agrarian disorders swept over
the most fertile provinces, he was compelled reluctantly to
adopt severely repressive measures. Courts martial had
to be instituted to try the mutineers, martial law had to be
proclaimed over a large part of the Empire, and some
of the revolutionary organisations which openly delied the
Government — such as the St. Petersburg Council of Labour
Deputies, the Moscow Committee of Workmen's Delegates,
which helped to construct barricades, and the Peasants'
Union, which was fomenting the agrarian disturbances — had
to be suppressed. Of the Labour Deputies who assembled
daily in St. Petersburg under the eyes of the police, and
who had recently reprimanded Count Witte for his audacity
in addressing them affectionately as "little brothers," about
two hundred were simultaneously arrested as they sat in
council (December i6th, 1905). Such acts of rigour were
urgently required because a large section of the population
were coming to regard the Government as a "negligible
quantity."

When Count Witte's efforts to conciliate public opinion
by concessions and promises proved fruitless, the Reaction-

OPENING OF THE DUMA 725

aries were not without hope that the Emperor might abandon
his intention of convoking a Legislative Assembly and return
to the old Autocratic regime; but in this they were dis-
appointed. Mis Majesty persisted in the course v.hich he
had solemnly announced in the October manifesto, and on
May loth, 1906, the ceremony of opening the Imperial Duma
took place in the Winter Palace.

A few days before that date Count Witte had ceased to
be Prime Minister. Finding that he was not allowed a free
hand by his Imperial master, he had repeatedly offered to
resign, and finally, somewhat to his surprise, his resigna-
tion was accepted. For several reasons his retirement was
not to be regretted. In his efforts to please everybody he
had roused the suspicions of all and secured the sympathy
and support of none, so that his continuance in office would
have added to the difficulties inherent in the situation many
bitter personal animosities. His post was conferred on
M. Goremvkin, a capable, experienced official of moderate
views, while the Minister of the Interior, M. Durnov6, who as
an advocate of energetic repression was also unpopular,
was replaced by M. Stolypin, who had distinguished him-
self as a provincial governor, but was little knowm in the
political world.

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE IMPERIAL DUMA

The first Duma, containing over four hundred members,
reflected in some respects the contemporary state of Russia.
Like the Empire, it was composed of many nationahties
clustering round the dominant race. The chief ethno-
graphical groups were the Great-Russians (265), the Little-
Russians (62), the White-Russians (12), the Poles (51), the
Lithuanians (10), the Letts (6), the Esthonians (4), the
Germans (4), the Jews (13), the Tartars (8), and the Bashkirs
(4) ; whilst the less important nationalities, each represented
by one or two deputies, included the Mordva, the Votiaks,
the Tchuvash, the Circassians, and the Kalmyks. In respect
of social status the diversity was equally remarkable. A
spectator had only to glance at the costumes to perceive that
the Assembly included the tamed nomad from the Steppe,
the free Cossack, the unlettered peasant, the parish priest,
the village schoolmaster, the unsophisticated landed pro-
prietor, and some gentlemen who represented the latest
products of West-European culture. With regard to
political tendencies and aims, the Duma was likewise a fair
reflection of the state of things in the Empire. In the old
times, when a National Assembly was still a dream of the
future, my Russian friends used to assure me that if they
were ever fortunate enough to possess a parliament, it would
contain no rival parties, because all the members would
devote themselves exclusively to securing and advancing
the national welfare; but this prediction, as I warned my
friends at the time, was not destined to be realised. In the
first Duma there were as many parties, or at least rival
groups, as there are usually in the parliaments of other
countries. First in numbers and importance came the 153
Constitutional Democrats, or Cadets as they are usually

726

COMPOSITION OF THE DUMA 727

called,* drawn from various sections of the educated classes —
landed gentry, barristers, doctors, officials, professors, and
literary men. Next came the Labour group of 107 members,
drawn from lower social strata — the peasants, workmen,
minor officials, school teachers, and the like. Apart from
both of these were the Autonomists, 63 in number, repre-
senting the minor nationalities who objected to complete
absorption in the great heterogeneous Empire, and the
Independents, numbering 165, who hesitated to attach them-
selves to any party and were unable to form a party for
themselves. As for the Conservatives and Reactionaries,
they were so few that they hardly constituted a group, and
they were so little in sympathy with the overwhelming
majority of their colleagues that they rarely ventured to
put forward their views.

If there was any truth in the current accusation that the
authorities had exercised undue pressure on the electors,
the pressure must have been singularly ineffectual, for the
Chamber could not be called governmental in any sense of
the term. On the contrary, it was not at all amenable to
official influence, and its short, stormy life of seventy-two
davs was devoted almost entirely to a struggle with the
Cabinet. Nearly all the groups of which it was composed
were resolved to extort from the Autocratic Power a great
deal more than had been granted by the manifestoes, the
rescripts, the ukazes, and the fundamental laws ; and when
they encountered stubborn resistance from the Executive,
thev directed their energies to discrediting the Government,
to advertising their own benevolent intentions towards the
people, and to increasing the popular discontent.

Of the groups above enumerated, and others which might
be mentioned, the only one which had the characteristics of
an organised political party was that of the Cadets. Though
it included only about one-third of the House, it had so
many allies in other groups that it could generally count

* This curious term Cadet deserves z. word of explanation. Most of the
parties and groups gave themselves such long names that it became
customary to designate them by their initials. Thus tlie Constitutional
Democrats {Konstitutsionniye Deniokraty) were designated by the letters
K. D., which are pronounced in Russian Ka Deh, exactly like the French
word Cadet.

728 RUSSIA

on a majority in a division, and it directed the proceedings
to such an extent that this first Assembly is often called
the Cadet Duma to distinguish it from its successors.

In theory the Cadets were a moderate constitutional party,
and if they had possessed a little more prudence and patience
they might have led the country gradually into the paths
of genuine constitutional government; but, like everyone in
Russia at that time, they were in a hurry, and they greatly
overestimated their own strength. Their impatience was
curiously illustrated during a friendly conversation which
I had one evening with a leader of the party. With all due
deference, I ventured to suggest that, instead of maintaining
an attitude of systematic and uncompromising hostility to
the Ministry, the party might co-operate with the Govern-
ment and thereby gradually create something like the English
parliamentary system, for which they professed such admira-
tion ; possibly in eight or ten years this desirable result
might be obtained. On hearing these last words my friend
suddenly interrupted me and exclaimed : — -

"Eight or ten years? We cannot wait so long as that ! "

"Well," I replied, "you must know your own affairs
best; but in England, which constitutionalists of other
countries often take as their model, we had to wait for
several centuries."

Suggestions of this kind were most unwelcome to the
Cadets, for they were resolved to obtain at once a full-fledged
Constitution. In granting a kind of parliament, the Emperor
had defined and limited its functions by fundamental laws
which could be modified only on the initiative of tlie Crown,
and he had reserved to the Sovereign the appointment of
Ministers and the control of the Executive. Thus the new
Russian Constitution, if Constitution it could be called, was
of the German rather than of the English type. Now, what
the Cadets wanted— and with them the great majority of the
educated classes — was a Constitution in which the Cabinet
and the Administration should be responsible, not to the
Emperor, but to the majority in the Duma; and they began
at once their campaign for the attainment of this object,
which was inconsistent with the fundamental laws just issued.
Foreseeing clearly the probable consequences of this course.

THE DUMA AND THE GOVERNMENT 729

they resolved, at a party conference, that they should seek
to attain their ends, "undeterred by the possibility of an
open rupture with the Government," and that the Govern-
ment should be made to appear responsible for the conflict.
That was the basis of their strategy, and they acted accord-
ingly. In their reply to the speech from the Throne they
carefully abstained from any expression of gratitude for
rights and privileges conferred, and they enumerated clearly
their demands : That no special laws should limit the
Duma's legislative competence; that the Council of the
Empire should be abolished; that the Ministry should be
responsible to the Duma; and that the Administration should
be thoroughly reorganised.

As soon as they were given to understand that these
demands, being inconsistent with the fundamental laws,
could not be complied with, efforts were made to induce
the Ministers to resign in order that they might be replaced
by a Cabinet formed from the majority of the Chamber, and
these efforts were continued almost daily till the end of the
session. Again and again the cry was raised: "Resign!
Resign ! It is time for you to retire ! " Want of confidence,
dissatisfaction, and even contempt were frequently and
loudly expressed, and the Ministers were told, sometimes in
insulting terms, that in their retirement alone was to be
found the salvation of the Fatherland. Some of the more
impatient deputies of the Labour group proposed to create
at once an administrative organisation independent of the
Government by means of local committees elected on the
basis of manhood suffrage ; and when their demands were
disregarded, their declamations assumed a tone of menace :
"We regard the Ministers as criminals; we hope that their
disgraceful rule may be put an end to, and if that cannot
be done by us, the people will settle accounts with them ! "
"Is it not time for all these rulers, great and small, to under-
stand that the moment is perhaps not far distant when the
Duma will find it impossible to protect them against the
punishing hand of the enraged People?" "Surely the
Government must perceive that a frightful wave of national
indignation is rising, and that it may reach heights hitherto
unknown ! "

730 RUSSIA

When violent language of this kind was used by the
parties of the Left, the Cadets usually remained silent and
they never once protested. They could wax eloquent over
the atrocities instigated by the Reactionaries, but for revolu-
tionary agitation and acts of terrorism they had no word
of condemnation ; they regarded, in fact, the parties of the
Left as their allies, and hoped to use them as instruments
for bringing pressure on the Government with a view to
raising themselves to the Ministerial benches. Gradually
this strategy came to be understood by the members of the
Labour group, and their relations with the Cadets ceased
to be cordial.

This struggle for power between the Government and
the Cadets went on for two months without any tangible
results, and at last the Cadets imprudently resolved to bring
about a general, decisive engagement. The battlefield chosen
was the Agrarian question, in which revolutionary proposals
were sure to evoke the sympathy and support of the peasants.
In the hope of counteracting the Agrarian movement for the
forcible expulsion of the landed proprietors from their estates,
the Government had issued on July 2nd an official communi-
cation to the effect that it regarded as inadmissible the
compulsory alienation of landed property in favour of the
peasants. This seemed to ordinary minds a natural and
laudatory proceeding on the part of the Government, but
the Cadets, who did not desire Agrarian tranquillity at that
moment, denounced it as "not only imprudent, but as
a criminal attempt on the part of the Executive to produce
confusion in the minds of the population." In order to
prevent this evil effect, they proposed to issue to the people
a counterblast in the form of a communication of the Duma,
"the highest legislative authority." The proposal was
warmly supported by the orators of the Left, who spoke
very plainly: "If the Duma," they said, "does not wish
to be a dead institution like the bureaucracy, it must listen
every day and every hour to the voice of the national will,
and execute immediately the commands of the People. The
demand for direct relations between the Duma and the People
comes from all classes. . . . The slow, indirect method is
no longer possible, now that at the head of the Administra-

DISSOLUTION OF THE DUMA 731

tion remain authorities who have been declared by the voice
of the People to be criminals, murderers, and executioners.
From to-day onwards the People sees before it two con-
tending powers : the power of the bureaucracy, and the
power of the national representatives."

Not a few deputies, even in the ranks of the Cadets, had
scruples about thus appealing to the People against the
Government, but they refrained from offering strenuous
opposition, and on July 19th, in a small House, the revolu-
tionary proposal was carried by a majority of 124 to 53.
At once the Government took up the challenge, and three
days afterwards the Duma was dissolved.

This was a surprise for the Cadets. They believed that
the Government would not dare to proceed to a dissolution,
and that if it took such a step the whole population would
rise in support of their representatives. In accordance with
this belief, they went immediately to Finland and drew up
at Viborg a seditious proclamation in which they called upon
the people to assume an attitude of passive resistance to the
authorities by refusing recruits and declining to pay taxes.

If the Cadets really hoped to produce a serious popular
movement against the Government, they must have been
greatly surprised and disappointed, for their proclamation,
in publishers' phrase, "fell still-born from the Press." It
was not obeyed even by its authors, for among those who
had drawn up and signed it some went abroad a few days
afterwards and showed no hesitation about paying the pass-
port tax ! Thus ended, not very heroically, what has been
called "the Duma of the national indignation." It certainly
expressed the anger of the nation against the Government
in no measured terms, but it did little else. Having fulfilled
this part of its mission, it might have settled down quietly
to useful legislative work and co-operated w^ith the Govern-
ment in a series of practical reforms, but it had no taste
for such prosaic occupation. No one was satisfied with the
concessions made by the Emperor, and all were clamouring
for more. The moderate groups were demanding a Cabinet
chosen from, and responsible to, themselves; while the
groups of the Left were aiming at the substitution of a
Democratic Republic for the Autocratic regime.

732 RUSSIA

In dissolving the first Duma the Emperor decided that
another experiment should be made without any change in
the electoral law, and a new Duma was accordingly convoked
for March 5th, 1907.

There was some reason to suppose that the new Duma
would be better than its predecessor : the public excitement
had abated, and many illusions had been destroyed by
experience. No one any longer imagined that Autocracy,
Bureaucracy, and all the other evils from which Russia was
suffering could be swept away by torrents of indignant
rhetoric, and the ground be cleared for a beautiful new
edifice, constructed according to the most modern and
advanced principles of political architecture. Even the most
doctrinaire of the Liberals or Socialists could hardly flatter
themselves that the walls of the Imperial Jericho would fall
spontaneously before the blast of democratic or revolutionary
trumpets. The Government had shown that it possessed
means of resistance, and now it had on its side a volunteer
force drawn from the Conservative elements of the popula-
tion, which had not been able to organise themselves for
the first general election. Moreover, there was now a much
stronger hand at the helm ; for, at the moment of the disso-
lution, M. Stolypin, the only member of the Cabinet who
had succeeded in obtaining generally a respectful hearing
in the Chamber, had replaced M. Goremykin as Prime
Minister; and he had now provided abundant occupation
for such deputies as wished to undertake practical legislative
work. Differing in this respect from his predecessor,* he
had taken the precaution of preparing a big pile of bills,
sufficient in quantity and quality to occupy fully for several
years the energies of the most hard-working Parliament.
There would be less excuse, therefore, for honourable
members to waste time and create unnecessary friction by
raising and discussing abstract constitutional questions.

All this gave reason to hope that the second Duma,
which was about to assemble, would be less revolutionary
and more capable of practical work than its predecessor; but

* In justice to M. Gorcmfkin I' may mention that he was not to blame
for appearing before the first Duma with empty hands, because he had
been appointed Premier only about ten days before the opening of the
Assembly.

THE SECOND DUMA 733

these hopes were not destined to be reahsed. Though the
political excitement had subsided in certain sections of the
population, it was still so general that the fact of a candidate
having been imprisoned or exiled was commonly regarded
by the constituencies as a recommendation in his favour.
Out of a total of 213 deputies elected in the twenty-five
provinces for which I happen to possess statistics, no less
than 55 had been in prison, in exile, or under police super-
vision, and 13 had been dismissed from the public service.
Existing revolutionary groups were thereby strengthened,
and they were reinforced by a new and powerful group —
that of the Social Democrats, who had boycotted the first
general election and had now gained more than sixty seats.
The total of Socialist deputies was thus raised from 26 to
83 — that is to say, from 5 to 17 per cent, of the whole House.

Another undesirable change had been produced by the
general election : the intellectual level of the deputies as a
body had been lowered. Among the Cadets who had signed
the Viborg manifesto, not a few were men of exceptional
ability and culture, and as they were being prosecuted on
a charge of sedition they could not legally present them-
selves as candidates. Of the deputies who replaced them,
the great majority were very far from being men of the
same intellectual calibre, w^hile the contingent of the totally
uneducated was greatly reinforced. In contradistinction to
"the Duma of the national indignation," the new Assembly
could be described by a leading Conservative, without much
exaggeration, as "the Duma of the national ignorance."

As soon as the formal business had been disposed of,
the House began to show its real character. When M.
Stolypin had sketched in outline his legislative programme,
and expressed his readiness to place at the disposal of the
Duma his loyal intentions and accumulated experience, he
was answered by the Extreme Left in anything but a con-
ciliatory tone. The leader of the Social Democrats, a young
Georgian from the Caucasus, speaking in a calm, deliberate
style, declared that the Prime Minister's speech had been
received in silence because no cries or stormy demonstrations
could ndc^quatelv express the feelings of the People towards
a Government which had dispersed the first Duma, created

734 RUSSIA

courts martial, fettered the country by a state of siege,
imprisoned its best sons, ruined the population, and
squandered the money intended for famine relief. As the
Executive would never voluntarily submit to the legislative
power, the orator considered that the organised strength of
the Government must be opposed by the organised strength
of the People. For this purpose the accusing voice of the
People's representatives must resound through the country
and rouse to the struggle all who were not yet awake; and
the Duma must, by means of legislative measures, organise
and combine the awakened masses. This revolutionary plan
of campaign, recommended with the calm assurance of
conscientious conviction as if it had been an ordinary legis-
lative proposal, was supported with great warmth by less
phlegmatic members of the party, and gave rise to a very
lively discussion, in which the Extreme Right protested in
violent language. M. Stolypin, on the Ministerial bench,
listened attentively in silence to the various orators, and
finally closed the debate by a short speech, delivered with
calm dignity, but not without occasional indications of
suppressed emotion. After referring to the thinly dis-
guised threats of the Social Democrats, he turned to the
leader of the party, drew himself up to his full height,
and concluded with a short declaration, in a firm, defiant
tone : — •

"These attacks are doubtless intended to paralyse the will
and intellect of the Government; they are all tantamount to
two words addressed to the constituted authority : ' Hands
up ! ' To these two words the Government, completely self-
possessed and conscious of its uprightness, can only reply :
' You do not frighten us ! ' "

During this significant discussion which foreshadowed
the whole history of the second Duma (March 5th to
June i6th) the Cadets remained silent, playing the part of
tertuis gaudens. They clung as firmly as ever to their aim
of compelling the Government to grant parliamentary insti-
tutions in the English sense of the term, and they had still
the ambition to form the first Cabinet in a parliament of
that kind; but they recognised the necessity of changing
their tactics, and one of them expressed this in a picturesque

THE POLICY OF THE CADETS 735

way : "As the fortress cannot be taken by storm, it must be
forced to capitulate by a prolonged siege." In one respect,
however, their tactics remained the same : they encouraged
the activity of the Extreme Left, in the hope that sooner
or later the Government would be frightened by the revolu-
tionary agitation and would accept as the lesser of two
evils a Cadet Ministry. For this reason they could never be
induced to support even an academic resolution condemning
acts of terrorism, and persistently regarded all such pro-
posals as traps laid by their rivals for the purpose of sowing
discord between them and their revolutionary allies. The
said allies, however, understood the game perfectly; whilst
refraining from unnecessary conflicts with the Cadets, they
regarded them as half-hearted politicians who, in the event
of an armed rising, would view the proceedings at a safe
distance and intervene merely to carry off the lion's share
of the spoil. M. Stol5^3in likewise understood the Cadets'
game, and systematically rejected their advances; he had
not forgotten the Viborg manifesto and all that it implied.
Nor was he less cautious with regard to the avowed revolu-
tionaries. He obstinately refused to swell the ranks of the
agitators and terrorists by recommending a general amnesty
for political offenders, and he declined to relax in any way
his military precautions against an insurrection.

In such circumstances, with no moderate party strong
enough to command a majority when important legislative
questions were put to the vote, the Duma was incapable of
any useful work; but nearly all the sections of which it
was composed desired, for different reasons, to prolong its
existence. By all parties it was regarded as a convenient
instrument for ventilating their political opinions and aspira-
tions, and as a means of keeping a door open for future
possibilities ; but there was one group which was too
impatient to continue indefmitelv a waiting policy. That
was the group of the Social Democrats, who were convinced
that their aims could be attained only by an armed rising,
in which the army should pass over to the side of the masses,
or at least remain neutral. To attain this object they had
created a secret organisation with ramifications in the
garrison towns all over the country and a central bureau in

736 RUSSIA

St. Petersburg, where the conspirators assembled in the
apartment of one of the deputies.

This revolutionary activity was carried on so openly that
it very soon became known to the Government, and M.
Stolypin determined to put a stop to it. On June 14th he
accordingly came down to the House, announced formally
that fifty-tive members of the Social Democratic group had
been conspiring to seduce the army from its allegiance and
bring about an insurrection, and demanded that the Duma
should consent to judicial proceedings being taken against
them. In explanation and support of his demand, he caused
a lengthy indictment to be read by a high official of the
Judicial Department, and he gave it clearly to be under-
stood that the matter must be treated as urgent. This placed
the Cadets in an extremely awkward position : if they con-
sented to the demand of the Prime Minister, they practically
abandoned their allies of the Extreme Left; and if they
refused, they ran a very serious risk of provoking a dissolu-
tion, which they were most anxious, for many reasons, to
avoid. In this difficulty they took refuge in procrastination,
and caused the matter to be referred to a Committee, which
was instructed to report within twenty-four hours; but at
the end of that time no decision was forthcoming, and an
attempt was made to secure further delay. To these Fabian
tactics the Government replied next morning by a decree of
dissolution.

Thus ended, one might almost say by suicide, the second
Duma, after an inglorious existence of a little more than
three months, during which it showed its incapacity for
practical legislative work. As insinuations have been made
in various quarters that the conspiracy which produced the
crisis was an invention of the police, it may be well to
mention an incident which effectually refutes that theory.
When the Cadets proposed to refer the matter to a Com-
mission, Tsereteli, leader of the wSocial Democrats,
courageously declared that such a procedure was un-
necessary, because the indictment was true from beginning
to end (ot slova do sln^^a), and the accused were proud of
what they had done : "We who are accused of having under-
taken the political education of the masses, declare that this

THE THIRD DUMA 737

accusation 111 Is uur hearts with pride, and serves as a proof
that we fuHillcd honourably the obligations imposed on us."

As the Duma liad thus twice shown its unlitness to fullil
the functions for which it had been created, tlie question
was raised whether it should not be abolished, or at least
radically transformed. Several members of the Cabinet
answered this question in the affirmative. M. Stolypin, on
the contrary, urged that at least one more attempt should
be made to lead the country gradually into the paths of
constitutional life, and as a means of removing some of the
worst evils he proposed certain modifications of the election
law. In this course of action he was supported by the
Emperor, who was likewise reluctant to return to the old
system of Government; and the experiment was made with
considerable success.

The change in the composition and spirit of the Assembly
was evident at a glance. On returning home from one of
the first sittings, I made the following entry in my diary,
which indicates briefly the changes which had taken place
and the prospects for the future : —

"November 23rd, 1907. — This third Duma, in which I
have just spent three hours listening attentively to the
debates, and conversing, during the intervals, with some of
the more influential members, is evidently very diff"erent from
its predecessors. What struck me immediately was that most
of the members are better dressed and have altogether a
more civilised appearance ; I saw no unkempt Bohemians
and only a few peasants, none of whom were in peasant
costume. If first impressions are to be trusted, this Assembly
will not be known as ' the Duma of the national indignation,'
nor as ' the Duma of the national ignorance.' Many
of the peasants and village schoolmasters have been replaced
by landed proprietors, and there are now, I am told, a few
representatives of the big manufacturers, who were formerly
conspicuous by their absence. The reactionary group has
been greatly increased, whereas the avowedly revolutionary
contingent has almost completely disappeared. Stolfpin
seems to be, on the whole, satisfied with the result of the elec-
tions, but he prudently refrains from sanguine predictions.

"The change for the better may be attributed in some

Y

738 RUSSIA

measure to the new electoral law and the progress made
by the Government in the art of electioneering, but it is
mainly due, I believe, to a great change which has taken
place in public opinion. Under the influence of time and
experience, the revolutionary excitement is evaporating, and
those who have something to lose have become alarmed by
the activity and defiant attitude of the aggressive Socialists.
Cosmopolitanism, too, which favoured the extravagant
claims of the minor nationalities, has received a check, and
there are significant symptoms that Russian nationalist feel-
ing is being aroused. This is not surprising when we
remember how, in the last Duma, deputies from the
Caucasus, speaking Russian with a strong foreign accent,
threatened the Government with an armed rising of the
Russian people; how the Poles, while respecting scrupu-
lously the rules of the House, held the balance for a time
between the contending Russian parties; and how on one
occasion an Armenian deputy allowed himself to cast an
insult at the Russian army ! The weak point in the present
Assembly is that the Octobrists — the moderate party which
accepts the famous October manifesto in its natural sense,
and wishes to co-operate with the Government in legislative
work — do not possess an absolute majority, and consequently
they must ally themselves, permanently or intermittently,
either with the Right or with the Cadets. Doubtless they
would prefer the former as allies, but, unfortunately, the
Right contains a large element of violent Reactionaries, who
are more than suspected of a desire to w^eck the parlia-
mentary institutions and re-establish some sort of Autocracy
under their own control. On the other hand, an alliance
with the Cadets, who still cling to their old tactics of trying
to extort further concessions from the Crown, would inevit-
ably lead to a conflict with the Government and probably to
another dissolution."

The general character and the conflicting currents of this
Duma were reflected in the debates on the address (Novem-
ber 26th, 1907). The text recommended by the Octobrists
was as follows : —

"Your Imperial Majesty was graciously pleased to welcome us,
members of the third State Duma, and to invoke the blessing of the

DEBATE ON THE ADDRESS 739

Almighty on the legislative work which awaits us. We consider it
our duty to express to your Imperial Majesty our feelings of devotion
to the Supreme Leader of the Russian State, and our gratitude for
the rights of national representation granted to Russia and confirmed
by the fundamental laws of the Empire. Believe us, Sire, we shall
apply all our strength, all our knowledge, all our experience, to
strengthening the State organism, renewed in the manifesto of
October 30 by your sovereign will ; to tranquillising the Fatherland,
maintaining order, developing public instruction, increasing the
general welfare, confirming the greatness of indivisible Russia, and
justifying thereby the confidence shown us by the Sovereign and the
country."

This address, which the Octobrist leader recommended
as containing nothing of a party character, gave rise to a
very curious and characteristic debate. Objections were
raised both by the Right and by the Cadets. The former
insisted on the insertion of the word Autocrat, which still
appears among the Emperor's titles; whilst the latter
insisted on the insertion of the word "Constitution," which
has never received official sanction. These apparently futile
amendments had a certain practical significance. On the
one hand the insertion of the word Autocrat would be a
public recognition of the fact that the Emperor w-as still,
as his official title proclaimed, the Autocrat of All the
Russias. On the other hand, if the word Constitution
found a place in the document, and was allowed to pass
without protest, the Cadets could in future maintain that
what they called "the Constitution" had been officially recog-
nised by the Emperor, and they could stigmatise as "un-
constitutional " much that was really permissible according
to the fundamental laws. In order to avoid these contro-
versies, the Octobrists had adopted a neutral expression —
"the State organism renewed in the manifesto of October
30th by your Sovereign will " — and this was finally carried,
but not unanimously, for the Extreme Right and the Extreme
Left abstained from voting.

When we contrast that address of November 26th, 1907,
couched in respectful language and expressing gratitude to
the Emperor, with the address presented by the "Duma of the
national indignation," on I\Iay 17th, 1906, we realise the great
progress which had been made towards pacification in the

740 RUSSIA

short space of a year and a half. For that remarkable change
the merit belongs largely to M. Stolypin. At the beginning
of his Ministry he formed two resolves, and he clung to
them with marvellous tenacity : To suppress disorders
relentlessly by every means at his disposal, and to preserve
the Duma as long as hopes could be entertained of its doing
useful work, while keeping it strictly within the functions
assigned to it by the Emperor. Until the assembling of the
third Duma he found no cordial support in any of the
parties or groups; all were leagued against him. For the
Conservative and Reactionary Right, he was too Liberal ;
for the Revolutionary Left, he was a pillar of Autocracy, an
advocate of police repression and drum-head courts martial ;
for the Cadets, who were the predominant guiding power
in the first two Dumas, he was an irreconcilable enemy, who
systematically and watchfully prevented them from encroach-
ing on the prerogatives of the Crown as defined by the
fundamental laws. In spite of all this, like a courageous
pilot, he steered the ship dexterously through successive
storms, and at last brought her into comparatively calm
water.

Thanks to his exertions, loyally supported by the
Octobrists and the moderate Right, the third Duma did
much useful legislative work. Favoured by the gradual
subsidence of the revolutionary excitement, it fultilled
successfully the functions of a Chamber of Deputies endowed
with limited powers. Of the old bureaucratic Council of
the Empire, which the October manifesto and subsequent
edicts transformed into an Upper Chamber composed of
Crown nominees ^nd elective members in equal numbers,
it is too soon to speak confidently ; but there is good reason
to hope that it will likewise fulfil its functions successfully
and exercise eventually a restraining and regulating influence
on the parliamentary machine. No doubt there will be occa-
sional friction between the two Houses, and between them
and the Government, but this is the necessary condition of
parliamentary life in all countries, and there is no reason
why Russia should be an exception to the general rule.

In order to appreciate fully the difficulties of M. Stoly-
pin's task, we must remember that he had to struggle not

** EXPROPRIATIONS " 74i

only with political opposition in the Duma and among the
Court officials, but also with the revolutionary agitation,
conspiracies, terrorism, and all manner of disorders through-
out the country. During the first five weeks of his premier-
ship he had to deal with five local mutinies in the army
and navy, and with a long series of murderous attacks with
bombs and revolvers on provincial governors, vice-governors,
generals, minor officials, and policemen of all grades. He
himself had a very narrow escape. His villa in St. Peters-
burg was blown up with bombs while he was sitting in it
at work; he remained unhurt, but a number of his officials
and servants were killed or wounded, and one of his
daughters, when extricated from the wreckage, was found
to be dangerously injured. As an instance of the attacks
on the police, an incident in Warsaw may be quoted :
According to a preconcerted arrangement, twenty-six police-
men and sentries were shot simultaneously by revolutionary
agents in different quarters of the town. In other parts of
the country burglaries and acts of brigandage were perpe-
trated with unprecedented audacity in w'holesale fashion ;
banks were attacked by armed youths in broad daylight,
and postal trains were held up and robbed. At first these
attacks were directed against Government property, and
were technically called "expropriations," but the "political
expropriators " were soon followed by ordinary robbers and
thieves, who could not be controlled by the revolutionary
committees. For more than a year this state of things con-
tinued, with considerable loss of life. In the month of May,
1907, for example, the list of casualties resulting from the
revolutionary disorders amounted to 291 killed and 326
wounded. All this time the agrarian disturbances were still
going on in the rural districts, and the means of repression
at the disposal of the local authorities was often very
inadequate.

By ceaseless, persistent effort, attended necessarily with
great severity, public order was gradually restored. For
the severity M. Stolypin was much criticised, especially by
those who, like the Cadets, did not wish to see tranquillity
restored until their political aims had been attained; but
the unfavourable judgments passed on him in this respect

742 RUSSIA

were not confirmed by those who knew him personally, and
who realised the situation in which he was placed. Naturally
of a humane temperament and a singularly affectionate dis-
position, he would gladly have refrained from all severe
measures, but he had to sacrifice his personal feelings to a
sense of public duty. Firmly convinced that the vital
interests of his country were at stake, he acted as a true
patriot. His motives were indicated by a remark he made
one day in the Duma. Defending his Government against
an attack by a group of revolutionary deputies, he turned
to them and said in a voice quivering with emotion : " You
desire great commotions ; we desire a great Russia ! " As
a boy he had been distinguished by his strong patriotic
feelings, and in the last years of his life they were the
key-note of his policy.

M. Stolypin did not live to carry out his programme,
which aimed at consolidating representative institutions
without destroying the Imperial authority. On September
i8th, 191 1, at a gala performance in the theatre of Kiev,
he was shot by a young Jew who was at one and the same
time a Terrorist and an agent of the secret police ; and four
days afterwards he died from the effects of the wound. The
post-mortem examination showed that he could not in any
case have lived much longer; his health, never very robust,
had been thoroughly undermined by overwork and anxieties.
For a considerable time he knew that his end was near, but
this merely increased his feverish energy, which was con-
cealed under a grave yet cheerful manner. Of the many
distinguished Russians whom I have known, he was certainly
one of the most sympathetic, and even his enemies, while
denying to him the qualities of a great statesman, were
constrained to admit that he was an honest, courageous,
truthful, and in all respects honourable man.*

* With ro<:^ard to the dissolution of the second Duma (vide supra, p. 736),
it has recently been asserted that there was no Social Democrat conspiracy,
and that Tserefeli's confession was simply a piece of bravado. I may be
permitted, therefore, to mention that I had an opportunity of examining^ the
original documents on which the indictment was founded, and they convinced
me that it was amplv justified. On the other hand, it must be admitted
that the modification of the Electoral Law was technically illegal.

CHAPTER XL

TERRITORIAL EXPANSION AND FOREIGN POLICY

The rapid growth of Russia is one of the most remarkable
facts of modern history. An insignificant tribe, or collection
of tribes, which, a thousand years ago, was confined to a
small district near the sources of the Dnieper and the
Western Dvina, has grown into a great nation with a vast
territory stretching from the Baltic to the Northern Pacific,
and from the Polar Ocean to the frontiers of Turkey, Persia,
Afghanistan, and China. We have here a big fact well
deserving careful investigation ; and as the process is still
going on, and is commonly supposed to threaten our national
interests, the investigation ought to have for us more than
a mere scientific interest.

What is the secret of this expansive power ? Is it a
mere barbarous lust of territorial aggrandisement, or is it
some more reasonable motive ? And what is the nature of
the process? Is annexation followed by assimilation, or do
the new acquisitions retain their old character ? Is the Empire
in its present extent a homogeneous whole, or merely a
conglomeration of heterogeneous units loosely held together
by the outward bond of centralised administration ? If we
could find satisfactory answers to these questions, we might
determine how far Russia is strengthened or weakened by
her annexations of territory, and might form some plausible
conjecture as to how, when and where the process of
expansion is to stop.

By glancing at her history from the economic point of
view we may easily detect at least one prominent cause of
expansion.

In all vigorous races employing merely the primitive
methods of agriculture, there is a strong tendency to widen
the natural borders. The increase of population demands
a constantly increasing production of grain, whilst the

743

744 RUSSIA

primitive methods of cultivation exhaust the soil and
diminish its productivity. With regard to this stage of
economic development, the modest assertion of Malthus that
the supply of food does not increase so rapidly as the
population often falls far short of the truth. As the popula-
tion increases, the food supply may decrease not only
relatively, but absolutely, by the exhaustion of the soil.
When a people finds itself in this critical situation, it must
adopt one of two alternatives : either it must prevent the
increase of population, or it must increase the production of
food. In the former case it may adopt the custom of
polyandry, which we find in the Arctic regions and in the
Himalayas; or it may legalise the habit of "exposing" or
otherwise destroying infants, as was done in ancient Greece
and some parts of India; or it may sell regularly to foreigners
a large portion of the children and young women, as was
done in Circassia in comparatively recent times; or the
surplus population may emigrate to foreign lands, as the
Scandinavians did in the ninth century, and as we ourselves
are doing in more peaceable fashion at the present day. The
other alternative — that of increasing the food supply — can
be effected only in two ways : by increasing the area of
cultivation, or by improving the system of agriculture.

The early Russo-Slavonians, being an agricultural
people, early experienced this difficulty, but for them it was
not very serious. A convenient way of escape was plainly
indicated by their peculiar geographical position. They
were not hemmed in by lofty mountains or stormy seas, and
immediately beyond their frontier, north, east and south,
there was abundance of arable land awaiting the labour of
the husbandman and ready to reward it liberally. The
peasants, therefore, instead of adopting such customs as
polyandry and infanticide, selling their daughters, or sweep-
ing the sea as Vikings, simply spread out in the neighbour-
ing thinly peopled territory. This was at once the most
natural and the wisest course, for of all the expedients for
preserving the equilibrium between population and food pro-
duction, increasing the area of cultivation is, under the
circumstances just described, the easiest and most effective.
Theoretically, the same result might have been obtained by

COLONISATION 745

improving the methods of agricuUure, but, practically, this
was impossible. Intensive culture is never introduced so
long as expansion is easy. High farming is a thing to be
proud of when there is a scarcity of arable land, but it would
be absurd to attempt it where there is abundance of
unoccupied virgin soil in the vicinity.

Originally produced in this way by purely economic
causes, the process of expansion was accelerated by influences
of another and less impersonal kind, when the ambitious
Moscow princes were transforming the loose conglomeration
of independent principalities into a centralised Tsardom,
and when the later monarchs were transforming the half-
barbarous Tsardom into a European Empire. These
changes were not effected without imposing severe hard-
ships on the population and causing much popular dis-
content. The increase in the number of officials, the
augmentation of the taxes, the merciless exactions of the
Voyevods and their subordinates, the reduction of the
peasants and "free wandering people" to the condition of
serfs, the ritual innovations and the consequent cruel perse-
cution of the Nonconformists, the frequent conscriptions and
violent reforms of Peter the Great — these and other kinds of
oppression made thousands flee yearly from their homes to
seek refuge in the free territory, where there were no officials,
no tax gatherers, and no landed proprietors. But the State,
with its army of tax gatherers and officials, followed close
on the heels of the fugitives, and those who wished to
preserve their liberty had to advance still farther into the
no-man's land. Notwithstanding the efforts of the authori-
ties to retain the population in the localities actually occupied,
the wave of colonisation moved steadily onwards.

The vast territory which lay open to the colonists con-
sisted of two contiguous regions, separated from each other
by no mountains or rivers, but widely differing from each
other in many respects. The one, comprising all the
northern zone of Eastern Europe and Western Asia, may
be roughly described as a land of forests, intersected by
many streams, and containing many lakes and marshes;
the other, stretching southward to the Black Sea and the
Caucasus and eastward far aw-ay into Central Asia, is for

Y*

746 RUSSIA

the most part flat or undulating plains, with a very limited
supply of water — what the Russians call the Steppe and
what Americans might call the prairies-
Each of these two regions presented peculiar inducements
and peculiar obstacles to colonisation. So far as the facility
for raising grain was concerned, the southern region was
decidedly preferable. In the north the soil was covered with
dense forests, so that much time and labour had to be
expended in making a clearing before the seed could be
sown. In the south, on the contrary, the squatter had no
trees to fell and no clearing to make; Nature had cleared
the land for him and supplied him with a rich black soil
of such marvellous fertility that it has not yet been com-
pletely exhausted after centuries of cultivation. Why, then,
did the peasant often prefer the northern forest to the fertile
Steppe ?

For this apparent inconsistency there was a good and
valid reason. The muzhik had not, even in these good old
times, any love of labour for its own sake, nor was he by
any means insensible to the facilities for farming afforded
him by the Steppe. But he could not regard the subject
exclusively from the agricultural point of view. He had
to take into consideration the fauna as well as the flora of
the two regions. At the head of the fauna in the northern
region stood the peace-loving, laborious Finnish tribes, little
disposed to molest settlers who did not make themselves
obnoxiously aggressive; on the Steppe lived the predatory,
nomadic hordes, ever ready to attack, plunder, and carry off
as slaves the unwarlike agricultural population. These facts,
as well as the agricultural conditions, were known to intend-
ing colonists, and influenced them in their choice of a new
home. Though generally fearless and fatalistic in a high
degree, they could not entirely overlook the dangers of the
Steppe, and many of them preferred to encounter the hard
work of the forest region.

These difTerences in the natural features and population of
the two regions determined the character of the colonisation.
Though the expansion into the northern zone was not efTected
entirely without bloodshed, it was, on the whole, of a peaceful
kind, and consequently received little attention from the con-

EXPANSION TOWARDS THE SOUTH 747

temporary chroniclers. The colonisation of the Steppe, on
the contrary, required the help of the Cossacks, and it pre-
sents, as 1 have shown in a previous chapter, one of the
bloodiest pages of Russian history.

So much for the spontaneous expansive movement made
necessary by economic considerations and accelerated by
ofBcial oppression. We pass now to the part played by the
rulers, actuated by political aims. This is the second factor
in the territorial expansion.

In the expansion to the north and north-east this factor
played a very subordinate part, because the Government had
simply to annex officially and organise administratively the
territory into which the peasants had penetrated in large
numbers of their own accord, and we hear very little about
resistance on the part of the older Finnish inhabitants. In
the southern and eastern regions the Government had a
much more difficult task. There the agricultural population
had to be constantly protected along an ill-defined frontier
of enormous length, lying open at all points to the attacks
and incursions of war-like predatory tribes. To prevent raids
it was necessary to keep up a military cordon, and this means
did not always afford efficient protection to those living near
the border. The nomads sometimes came in formidable
hordes, which could be resisted only by large armies, and
the armies were not always strong enough to cope with
them successfully. Again and again, during the thirteenth
and fourteenth centuries, Tartar hordes swept over the
country — burning the villages and towns, and spreading
devastation wherever they appeared — and during more than
two hundred years Russia had to pay a heavy tribute to their
nominal suzerains, the successors of the famous Genghis
Khan.

Gradually the Tsars of Muscovy threw off this galling
yoke. Ivan the Terrible conquered and annexed the three
Khanates of the Lower Volga — Kazan, Kiptchak, and
Astrakhan— and in that way he averted the danger of a
foreign domination. But permanent security was not thereby
created for the outlying provinces. The Khans of the Crimea
long maintained their independence under the protection of
the Sultan of Constantinople, and in their territory the slave

748 RUSSIA

markets were kept plentifully supplied by means of kidnap-
ping expeditions into Russia and Poland. •

To protect a naturally open frontier against the incursions
of nomadic tribes, three methods are possible : the con-
struction of a great wall, the establishment of a strong
military cordon, and the permanent subjugation of the
marauders. The first of these expedients, adopted by the
Romans in Britain and by the Chinese on their north-
western frontier, is always enormously expensive, and it
was utterly impossible in Southern Russia, where there is
little or no stone for building purposes; the second was
constantly tried, and constantly found wanting; the third
alone proved practicable and efficient. Though the Govern-
ment soon came to recognise that the acquisition of vast
expanses of thinly populated Steppe was, in many respects,
a burden rather than an advantage, it went on annexing new
territory as a means of self-defence. Its policy consisted
in making what might be called turning movements on a
gigantic scale by planting fortified posts and Cossack
cordons far in advance of the actual frontier ; and this
strategy was generally successful, for as soon as a lawless
population found the enemy in their rear they restrained their
marauding propensities and gradually submitted. If the
history of Russia's Eastern conquests be studied from this
point of view, it becomes much more intelligible in its details.

In consequence of this active part which the Government
took in the extension of the territory, the process of political
expansion sometimes got greatly ahead of the colonisation.
After the Turkish wars and consequent annexations in the
reign of Catherine II., for example, a great part of Southern
Russia was almost uninhabited, and the deficiency had to
be corrected, as we have seen, by organised emigration
from Germany and other foreign countries.

If we turn now from the East to the West we shall find
that the national expansion in this direction was of a very
different kind. The country lying to the westward of the
early Russo-Slavonian settlements had a poor soil and a
comparatively dense population, and it consequently held
out little inducement to immigration. It was inhabited,
moreover, by warlike agricultural races, organised in more

A POLISH TSAR 749

or less civilised communities, which were not only capable
of defending their own territory, but even strongly dis-
posed to make encroachments on their eastern neighbours.
Russian expansion to the westward, therefore, was not a
spontaneous movement of the peasantry, but the work of
the Government, acting deliberately and laboriously by
means of diplomacy and military force; it had, however, a
certain historical justification.

No sooner had Russia freed herself, in the fifteenth
century, from the Mongol domination than her political
independence, and even her national existence, was
threatened from the West. Her western neighbours were,
like herself, animated wnth that tendency to national expan-
sion which 1 have just described, and for a time it seemed
doubtful who should ultimately possess the vast plains of
Eastern Europe. The chief competitors for this splendid
prize were the Tsars of Muscovy and the Kings of Poland,
and the latter appeared to have the better chance. In close
connection with Western Europe, they had been able to
adopt many of the improvements recently made in the art
of war, and they already possessed the upper basin of the
Dnieper. Once, with the help of the Free Cossacks, they
succeeded in overrunning the central part of Muscovy, and
a son of the Polish King was elected Tsar in Moscow. By
attempting to accomplish their purpose in too hasty and
reckless a fashion, they raised a storm of religious and
patriotic fanaticism, which very soon drove them out of their
newly acquired possessions; but the country remained in a
very precarious position, and its native rulers perceived that
in order to carry on the struggle successfully they must
import something of that Western civilisation which gave
such an advantage to their Polish rivals.

Some steps had already been taken in that direction. In
the year 1553 an English navigator, whilst seeking for a
short route to China and India by the Arctic Ocean, had
accidentally discovered the port of Archangel on the White
Sea, and from that time the Tsars kept up an inter-
mittent diplomatic and commercial intercourse with England.
But this route was at all times tedious and dangerous, and
during a great part of the year it was blocked with ice. In

S»5o RUSSIA

view of these difficulties, the Tsars had tried to import
"cunning foreign artificers" by way of the Baltic; but their
efforts were hampered by the Livonian Order, who held the
east coast of that inland sea, and who considered, like the
Europeans on the coast of Africa at the present day, that the
barbarous natives of the interior ought not to be supplied
with arms and ammunition. All the other direct routes to
Western Europe traversed likewise the territory of rivals,
who might at any moment become avowed enemies. Under
these circumstances the Tsars naturally desired to break
through the barrier which hemmed them in, and the acqui-
sition of the east coast of the Baltic became one of the
permanent aims of Russian foreign policy.

In addition to the Poles and the Livonian Order, the
Swedes blocked the way. They had early conquered a large
amount of territory to the east of the Baltic, including the
mouths of the Neva, where St. Petersburg now stands, and
they harboured schemes of further conquests. On one
occasion they even succeeded, like the Poles, in occupying
Moscow for a short time.

Compared with these Western rivals, Russia was weak
in all that concerned the art of war, but she had two immense
advantages : she had a very large population, and a strong
stable government, which could concentrate and direct the
national forces for any definite purpose. All she required
for success in the competition was an army on the European
model; and it was supplied by Peter the Great. From that
moment the westward expansion went on steadily. Sweden
gradually lost all her trans-Baltic possessions, of which the
last — the Grand Duchy of Finland — was ceded to Russia
by the Treaty of Frederickshamm in 1809. Poland not only
lost her hold on the Baltic, but was dismembered by her
powerful neighbours, and Russia took the lion's share of
the spoil. At the present day she possesses the whole of
the eastern shore of the Baltic, and her western land frontier
is contiguous with the eastern frontiers of Germany and
Austria.

Peter the Great's efforts to gain a footing on the Baltic
were only part of a much larger design : he aspired to make
his country a great naval Power, and for this purpose he

"A WARM-WATER POLICY" 751

required, not only in tlie Baltic but elsewhere, long stretches
of sea coast, with good harbours for a navy and a mercantile
marine. When struggling with Sweden in the north, he
had already begun to cast longing eyes on the Black Sea.
In that direction his efforts were unsuccessful, for after
conquering Azov, and forming plans for its development as
a port and arsenal, he was compelled to restore it to the
Turks. But his ideas have been carried out in an improved
form by his successors, and Russia has now a powerful
Black Sea fleet.

It must not, however, be supposed that the so-called
"warm-w^ater policy" initiated by Peter the Great has been
thereby completely realised. In a certain sense the Black
Sea is a mere inland lake, for the outlet is held by the Sultan,
and in ordinary circumstances no Russian ship of war can
pass out into the Mediterranean. So long, therefore, as the
Turks occupy Constantinople and the Straits, Russia cannot
be regarded as a first-rate naval Power. This leads us to
the consideration of another element in the tendency to
territorial expansion^a powerful current of national senti-
ment which has exercised during many generations a certain
political influence on the Government. For want of a better
term, I may call it the Byzantine factor in Russian foreign
policy.

Let me recall here very briefly an important episode in
Russian history which I have dealt with more fully in previous
chapters. The Russo-Slavonians who held the valley of the
Dnieper from the ninth to the thirteenth century were one
of those frontier tribes which the tottering Byzantine Empire
attempted to ward off by diplomacy and rich gifts, and by
giving to the troublesome chiefs, on condition of their accept-
ing Christianity, princesses of the Imperial family as brides.
Vladimir, Grand Prince of Kiev, now recognised as a saint
by the Russian Church, accepted Christianity in this way
(a.d. 988), and his subjects followed his example. Russia
thus became ecclesiastically a part of the Patriarchate of
Constantinople, and the people learned to regard Tsargrad
— the city of the Tsar, as the Byzantine Emperor was then
called — with peculiar veneration.

All through the long Mongol domination, when the

752 RUSSIA

nomadic tribes of tlie Steppe formed a barrier between Russia
and the Balkan Peninsula, the capital of the Eastern Ortho-
dox world was remembered and venerated by the Russian
people, and in the fifteenth century it acquired in their eyes
a new significance. At that time it fell under the power of
the Mahometan Turks, and the Byzantine Emperors disap-
peared, whilst Moscow threw off the yoke of the Mahometan
Tartars, the northern representatives of the Turkish race.
The Grand Prince of Moscow thereby became, as it were,
the Protector of the Faith, and in some sort the successor of
the Byzantine Tsars. To strengthen this claim, Ivan III.
married a niece of the last Byzantine Emperor, and his
successors went farther in the same direction by assuming
the title of Tsar and inventing a fable about their ancestor
Rurik having been a descendant of Caesar Augustus.

All this would seem to a lawyer, or even to a diplomatist,
a very shadowy title, and none of the Russian monarchs —
except perhaps Catherine II., who conceived the project of
resuscitating the Byzantine Empire, and caused one of her
grandsons to learn modern Greek in view of possible con-
tingencies— ever thought seriously of claiming the imaginary
inheritance. But the idea that the Tsars ought to reign in
Constantinople, and that St. Sophia, polluted by Moslem
abominations, should be restored to the Orthodox Christians,
struck deep root in the minds of the Russian people, and it
is still by no means extinct. As soon as serious disturbances
break out in the Near East, the peasantry begin to think that
perhaps the time has come for undertaking a crusade for
the recovery of the Holy City on the Bosphorus, and for the
liberation of their brethren in the faith who groan under
Turkish bondage.

Essentially different from this religious sentiment, though
often blending with it, is a vague feeling of racial afifinity,
which has long existed among the various Slav nationalities
and was greatly developed during last century by writers
of the Panslavist school. When Germans and Italians were
striving after political independence and unity, it naturally
occurred to the Slavs that they might do likewise. The
idea became popular among the Slav subject-nationalities of
Austria and Turkey, and it awoke a certain mild enthusiasm

THE HERZEGOVINIAN INSURRECTION 753

in Moscow, where the Slavophils hoped that "all the Slav
streams would unite in the great Russian sea." This was
not an unreasonable expectation, for in any confederacy of
Slav nationalities the hegemony would naturally devolve
upon Russia, the only Slav State which has succeeded in
becoming a great Power.

In ordinary times the official world of St. Petersburg was
wont to look askance at the efforts of the Moscow Slavophils
to awaken sympathy for the Slavs of Austria and Turkey,
because there was reason to fear that these imprudent patriots
might try to raise the Eastern Question at a moment when
serious European complications would be extremely incon-
venient for the Government. On the other hand, the
authorities refrained from all vigorous repressive measures,
because the Foreign Office understood that when the time
should come for attempting a further advance towards the
Mediterranean, the Slavophil sentiment, if judiciously con-
trolled and directed, might be used as a valuable asset in
foreign policy.

A description of the various methods adopted by Russia
at different times to make that further advance does not enter
into my present programme, but I may say briefly that the
expansive tendency in that direction is due to the combined
action of the three factors just mentioned : the religious feel-
ing of the common people, the Slavophil or Panslavist senti-
ments of the educated classes, and the political aims of the
Government. This has never been better exemplified than
in the last struggle with Turkey (1877-8), culminating in the
Treaty of vSan Stefano and the Congress of Berlin.

The origin, or at least the immediate cause, of that
struggle is to be sought not in St. Petersburg, but in Vienna.
In the exalted official spheres of that capital there had long
been, what Bismarck termed, a "Drang nach Osten " — a
desire to find in Turkey territorial compensation for the loss
of the Italian provinces in the Franco-Austrian war of 1859.
The first step towards the realisation of that desire was the
Herzegovinian insurrection, which began in 1875. At first
the Russian Foreign Office did not svmpathise wMth the
insurrectionary movement, because it habitually regards with
jealousy and suspicion the secret diplomatic activity of

754 RUSSIA

Vienna in the Balkan Peninsula; but it changed its attitude
when it perceived that compensation to Austria for her losses
in the Italian campaign might perhaps be combined with
compensation to Russia for her losses in the Crimean war.
If Austria annexed Bosnia and Herzegovina, why should
not Russia recover the territory at the mouth of the Danube
ceded in the Treaty of Paris, and obtain, perhaps, a portion
of Eastern Bulgaria ? After long and laborious negotiations,
a diplomatic compromise was effected on that basis, and the
war began.

By this time the Government was warmly supported
both by the Slavophil and the religious sentiment, stimulated
greatly by the "Bulgarian atrocities"; and it naturally lent
an attentive ear to the cry raised in England for the expul-
sion of the Turks, "bag and baggage," from Europe. But
before the Eastern Question could be radically solved in this
way, the tide of public opinion in England turned; Disraeli
roused the traditional jealousy of Russia and found diplo-
matic support in Vienna, and the large concessions extorted
from Turkey at San Stefano were reduced to moderate
dimensions at the Congress of Berlin.

Among all classes in Russia this result produced feelings
of profound disappointment. The peasantry bewailed the
fact that the crescent on St. Sophia had not been replaced
by the cross ; the Slavophil patriots were indignant that
Bosnia and Herzegovina, which were to have formed part
of the future Slav confederacy, had passed under the domina-
tion of Austria, and that many of the "Little Brothers" had
shown themselves unworthy of the generous efforts and
sacrifices made on their behalf ; the Government recognised
that the acquisition of the Straits must be indefinitely post-
poned. Then history repeated itself. After the Crimean
war, in accordance with Prince Gortchakoff's famous
epigram. La Russie ne bonde pas, elle se recueille, Alexander
II. had abandoned for some years an active policy in Europe
and made new acquisitions of territory and influence in Asia.
So now Alexander III., turning his back on the "Slav
brethren," inaugurated an era of peace in Europe and of
territorial expansion in the East.

I must now say a few words about another factor in

RUSSIA'S COMMERCIAL POLICY 755

Russia's territorial expansion of much more recent origin
but of increasing importance. She is rapidly becoming, as
I have explained in a previous chapter, a great industrial
and commercial nation, and she is anxious to secure new
markets for her manufactured goods. Though her industries
cannot yet supply her own wants, she likes to peg out claims
for the future, so as not to be forestalled by more advanced
nations. She does not, indeed, make conquests exclusively
for this purpose, but whenever it happens that she has other
reasons for widening her borders, the idea of obtaining com-
mercial advantages acts as a subsidiary incentive, and as
soon as the territory is annexed she raises round it a line
of commercial fortifications in the shape of customs houses,
through which foreign goods have great difficulty in forcing
their way. This subsidiary incentive contributed largely to
the construction of the Trans-Siberian railway and to the
bringing on of the war with Japan.

This commercial policy seems quite intelligible and even
laudable from the patriotic point of view; but Russians like
to justify it, and condemn English competition on higher
grounds. England, they say, is like a successful manufac-
turer who has outstripped all his rivals and who seeks to
prevent anv new competitors from coming into the field. By
her mercantile policy she has become the great blood-sucker
of other nations. Having no cause to fear competition, she
advocates the insidious principles of Free Trade, and inun-
dates foreign countries with her manufactures to such an
extent that unprotected native industries are inevitably
ruined. Thus all nations have long paid tribute to England;
but the era of emancipation has dawned. The fallacies of
Free Trade have been detected and exposed, and Russia, like
other young nations, has found in the beneficent power of
protective tariffs a means of escape from British economic
thraldom. Henceforth, not only the muzhiks of European
Russia, but also the populations of Central Asia, will be
saved from the heartless exploitation of Manchester and
Birmingham — and be handed over, I presume, to the tender
mercies of the manufacturers of Moscow and St. Petersburg,
who sell their goods much dearer than their English
competitors.

756 RUSSIA

To sum up we may say that, if we have read Russian
history aright, the wonderful expansion of Russia has been
caused chiefly (i) by spontaneous colonisation, (2) by the
necessities of self-defence against marauding tribes, (3) by
high political aims, such as the acquisition of sea coasts
and harbours, with a view to making the country a great
naval Power, (4) by the religious idea of expelling the
Mussulmans from Constantinople and protecting the
brethren of the Orthodox faith, (5) by the aspiration to
establish a Russian hegemony over the Slav nationalities,
and (6) by the intention of extending Russian commerce
and developing Russian industry.

To this brief summary we may add that the process of
expansion has been greatly facilitated by peculiar
geographical conditions and the autocratic form of govern-
ment, and that the result has been very remarkable. From
the beginning of the sixteenth century, when Ivan III. united
the independent principalities and created the Tsardom of
Muscovy, the territorial expansion has gone on without
interruption and with marvellous rapidity. In 1505 the
Muscovite Tsardom contained only about three-quarters of
a million of English square miles, and in 1682, when Peter
the Great ascended the throne, it contained more than five
and a half millions. Though famous as a conqueror, Peter
did not annex nearly so much territory as some of his pre-
decessors and successors. At his death, in 1725, the Empire
contained, in round numbers, 5,830,000 square miles, and
this figure has now increased to 8,648,000, about one-seventh
of the land-surface of the globe. With this rapid territorial
expansion, the increase of population has more than kept
pace. Since 1722, when the first census was taken, until the
present time the increase has been from 14 to 164 millions.
Thus, in extent and population, from small beginnings
Russia has grown to be one of the greatest Empires in the
world, second only to the sporadic British Empire, which
is computed to have an area of nearly n}4 million square
miles, with 400 million inhabitants.

Having thus analysed the expansive tendency and
glanced at its results, let us endeavour to determine roughly
how the various factors of which it is composed are acting

FUTURE EXPANSION 757

in the present and are likely to act in the near future. In
this investigation it will be well to begin with the simpler,
and proceed gradually to the more complex, parts of the
problem.

Towards the north and the west the history of Russian
expansion may be regarded as practically closed. North-
wards there is nothing to annex but the Arctic Ocean and
the Polar regions; westwards, annexations at the expense of
Germany or Austria are not to be thought of, though some
Slavophils speak of Austrian Galicia as being geographically
and ethnographically a part of Russia. There remains,
therefore, only Sweden and Norway. They may possibly at
some future time come within the range of Russia's territorial
appetite, but for the present the only part of the Scandinavian
peninsula which she is supposed to covet is a barren district
in the extreme north, which is said to contain several
excellent warm-water harbours.

It is, therefore, only on the long southern frontier,
stretching from the eastern borders of Austria-Hungary to
the shores of the Pacific, that the expansive tendency is
likely, sooner or later, to manifest itself. At present, since
the Japanese war, it is in one of its quiescent periods, and
we may assume that it will not produce any serious inter-
national disturbances until the Government has had time
to reorganise its military and naval forces; but it is well to
be on the alert, and we may be pardoned for making, while
the storm-clouds are still below the horizon, a rapid, unpro-
fessional tour from west to east in order to take a bird's-eye
view of the contiguous regions and examine cursorily how
far they offer temptations to foreign aggression from the
north.

Regarding the Balkan Peninsula, I have already
explained that Russia is pushed in that direction by the
combined influence of three internal forces — the religious
feelings of the common people, the Slavophil or Panslavist
sentiments of the educated classes, and the desire of the
Government to have unrestricted access to the Mediter-
ranean. That three-fold pressure constitutes the essence of
the Eastern Question in the older and narrower sense of the
term. As to when and how that formidable question which

758 RUSSIA

has produced so many wars will be reopened, it would be
idle to speculate, but we must not lightly assume that the
date of the inevitable reopening may be placed far away in
the distant future. Though Russia accepts silently the
status quo, and is not likely to disturb it by any act of
violence till she has recovered from her present military
exhaustion, she regards it as merely temporary and as not
at all in accordance with her permanent interests. Of this
fact we have had recently some significant proofs, one of
which may be cited by way of illustration. When Count
Aehrenthal was preparing, in 1908, to annex Bosnia and
Herzegovina, and confidentially foreshadowed his intentions
at the famous Biichlau interview, M. Iswolsky at once threw
out the suggestion that Russia might receive compensation
by some change in the existing international arrangements,
which close the Bosphorus and Dardanelles to Russian ships
of war. Insignificant in itself, this incident may be regarded
as the proverbial straw which shows how the wind is
blowing.

But it is not merely by aggressive action on the part of
Russia that the formidable question may be prematurely
reopened. We have lately seen in Turkey important
changes which may eventually disturb the unstable political
equilibrium in south-eastern Europe. It is no secret that
the Young Turks are devoting to armaments an inordinate
proportion of their slender resources ; and though their
immediate object is to establish firmly the predominance
of the Turkish element in their own Empire, they give
occasionally, notwithstanding their pacific assurances, un-
mistakable indications of a chauvinistic spirit, which may
accidentally involve them in international complications.
There is such a large accumulation of combustible material
in that part of the world that we are often reminded of the
common saying about the danger of playing with lucifer
matches in a powder magazine.

In Persia, which is our next halting-place, the danger of
complications arises not from aggressive intentions, but from
internal weakness. The potentate who wears the proud
traditional title of "King of Kings" has become a very
shadowy personage in the political world, and his monarchy

PERSIA AND AFGHANISTAN 759

is in danger of falling to pieces. This unfortunate state of
things offers to Russia a strong temptation to extend her
borders in that quarter. For several generations she has
pursued the policy of pacific infiltration, and already the
northern part of the Shah's dominions is pretty well per-
meated with her influence, commercial and political. In the
southern half the infiltration is to some extent checked by
natural obstacles and British opposition, and we have
recently made with the Cabinet of St. Petersburg a conven-
tion which excludes Russian activity from the region lying
near the Indian frontier; but the central and western portions
of the country remain open to her advance, and in the minds
of some of her high officials there is a scheme for obtaining
a commercial outlet on the Persian Gulf. This idea, I need
hardly say, finds great favour with the politicians of "the
warm-water school " and among all who wish to promote the
rapid development of the national commerce and industry.

In the neighbouring country of Afghanistan the pressure
from the north is likewise felt, and here, too, the expansive
tendency meets with opposition from England. More than
once the two great Powers have come dangerously near to
a direct collision — notably in 1885, at the moment of the
Penjdeh incident, when the British Parliament voted
;^i 1,000,000 for military preparations. Fortunately, the
difficulties at that time were solved by diplomacy. The
northern frontier of Afghanistan was demarcated by a joint
commission, and an agreement was concluded by which this
frontier should form the boundary between the British and
Russian spheres of influence. On the whole, Russia has faith-
fully respected this engagement, though occasionally some of
her enterprising frontier officers have tried to evade it. Dur-
ing our South African difficulties, at the suggestion of a
foreign Sovereign, the idea of a military demonstration in
that region was momentarily entertained in St. Petersburg,
but it did not find favour with the Emperor, and objections
were raised by the military authorities. These latter depre-
cated such a movement of troops, on the ground that in a
country like Afghanistan it might easily develop into a serious
campaign, and that a serious campaign ought not to be under-
taken until after the completion of the Orenburg-Tashkent

76o RUSSIA

railway, which was to connect the Central Asian line with the
railway system of European Russia.

As this important connecting line has since been com-
pleted, and a branch line has been constructed to Kushk,
on the Afghan frontier, within striking distance of Herat,
the question naturally arises whether Russia meditates an
attack on India. It is a question which is not easily
answered. No doubt many Russians have been fascinated
with the idea of some day conquering our Indian Empire,
with its teeming millions and the fabulous treasures which
it is supposed to possess, and not a few young officers have
hastily assumed that it would be an easy task. Further, it
is certain that the problem of an invasion from the military
point of view has been studied academically by the Head-
quarters' Staff in St. Petersburg, as the problem of an
invasion of England has been studied by the Headquarters'
Staff in Berlin. It may be pretty safely asserted, however,
that the project of an invasion of India has never been
seriously entertained in the Russian official world since the
days of the Emperor Paul, who suddenly ordered a Cossack
detachment to be dispatched to the Indian frontier through
countries which had never been explored. What has been
seriously entertained, not only in the official world, but by
the Government itself, is the idea — strongly recommended
by the late General Skobelev- — that Russia should get within
striking distance of our Indian possessions, so that she might
always be able to exercise strong diplomatic pressure on the
British Government, and in the event of a European war im-
mobilise a large part of the British army.

The expansive tendency in the direction of the Persian
Gulf and the Indian Ocean was temporarily weakened by
the completion of the Trans-Siberian Railway and the rapid
development of a forward policy in the Far East. Never,
perhaps, has the construction of a single line produced such
deep and lasting changes in the sphere of Weltpolitik.

As soon as the Trans-vSiberian Railway was being rapidly
constructed, a magnificent prospect opened up to the gaze
of imaginative politicians in St. Petersburg. The fore-
ground was Manchuria, a region of 364,000 square miles,
endowed by nature with enormous mineral resources, and

KOREA AND MANCHURIA 761

presenting a splendid field for agricultural colonisation and
commercial enterprise. Beyond was seen Korea, geographic-
ally an appendix of Manchuria, possessing splendid
harbours, and occupied by an effete, unwarlike population,
wholly incapable of resisting a European Power. That
was quite enough to inflame the imagination of patriotic
Russians; but there was something more, dimly perceived
in the background. Once in possession of Manchuria,
supplied with a network of railways, Russia would dominate
Peking and the whole of Northern China, and she would
thus be able to play a decisive part in the approaching
struggle of the European Powers for the Far-Eastern Sick
Man's inheritance.

Of course, there were obstacles in the way of realising
this grandiose scheme, and there were some cool heads in
St. Petersburg who were not slow to point them out. In
the first place the undertaking must be extremely costly,
and the economic condition of Russia proper was not such
as to justify the expenditure of an enormous capital which
must be for many years unproductive. Any superfluous
capital which the country might possess was much more
urgently required for purposes of internal development, and
the impoverished agricultural population ought not to be
drained of their last meagre reserves for the sake of gigantic
political schemes which did not directly contribute to their
material welfare. To this the enthusiastic advocates of the
forward policy replied that the national finances had never
been in such a prosperous condition, that the rev^enue was
increasing by leaps and bounds, that the money invested in
the proposed enterprise would soon be repaid with interest;
and that if Russia did not at once seize the opportunity she
would find herself forestalled by energetic rivals.

There was still, however, one formidable objection. Such
an enormous increase of Russia's power in the Far East
would inevitably arouse the jealousy and opposition of other
Powers, especially of Japan, for whom the future of Korea
and jNIanchuria was a question of life and death. Mere again
the advocates of the forward policy had their answer ready.
Thev declared that the danger was more apparent than real.
In Far-Eastern diplomacy the European Pow-ers could not

762 RUSSIA

compete with Russia, and they might easily be bought off by
giving them a very modest share of the spoil ; as for Japan,
she was not formidable, for she was just emerging from
Oriental barbarism, and all her boasted progress was nothing
more than a thin veneer of European civilisation. As the
Moscow patriots on the eve of the Crimean War said con-
temptuously of the Allies, "We have only to throw our hats
at them," so now the believers in Russia's historic mission
in the Far East spoke of their future opponents as
"monkeys" and "parrots." Urged on by these short-
sighted enthusiasts and by certain influential personages who
had material interests in the coveted territory, the Govern-
ment allowed itself to be carried away by the current of
pseudo-patriotism and drifted into war.

In order to explain this fatal mistake on the part of the
Government, I must recall very briefly the main course of
events leading up to the crisis.

In 1905, at the close of the Chi no-Japanese War, Japan
compelled the Chinese to cede to her the peninsula of
Liaotung, a southward prolongation of Manchuria, jutting
out into the Yellow Sea, between the Chinese coast and
Korea, and dominating the sea route to Pekin. This seizure
of an important strategical position by a young, ambitious
and enterprising Power displeased and alarmed not only
Russia, but also Germany and France, who had designs of
their own on Chinese territory. The three Cabinets accord-
ingly formed a coalition, and compelled Japan to withdraw
from the mainland on the pretext that the integrity of China
must be maintained. In this way China recovered, for a
moment, a bit of lost territory, and further benefits were
conferred on her by a guarantee for a foreign loan and by
the creation of the Russo-Chinese Bank, which would assist
her in her financial afi'airs. For these and other favours she
was expected to be grateful, and it was suggested to her
that her gratitude might take the form of facilitating the
construction of the Trans-Siberian Railway. If constructed
wholly on Russian territory, the line would have to make
an enormous bend to the northward, whereas if it went
straight from Lake Baikal to Vladivostock, through Chinese
territory, it would be very much shorter, and would confer

RUSSIA'S DEMANDS ON CHINA 763

a very great benefit on the north-eastern provinces of the
Celestial Empire. This benefit, moreover, might be greatly
increased by making a branch line to Talienwan and Port
Arthur, which would some day be united with Pekin.
Gradually Li-Hung-Chang and other influential Chinese
officials were induced to sympathise with the scheme, and
permission was granted for the construction of the direct line
to Vladivostock through Manchuria.

The retrocession of the Liaotung Peninsula had not been
effected by Russia alone. Germany and France had co-
operated, and they also expected from China a mark of
gratitude in some tangible form. On this point the states-
men of Berlin held very strong views, and they thought it
advisable to obtain a material guarantee for the fulfilment
of their expectations by seizing Kiaochau, on the ground
that German missionaries had been murdered by Chinese
fanatics.

For Russia this was a most unwelcome incident. She
had earmarked Kiaochau for her own purposes, and had
already made an agreement with the authorities in Peking
that the harbour might be used freely by her fleet. And
this was not the worst. The incident might inaugurate an
era of partition for which she was not yet prepared, and
another port which she had earmarked for her own use might
be seized by a rival. Already English ships of war were
reported to be examining in a suspicious manner the neigh-
bouring coast. The Cabinet of St. Petersburg hastened to
demand, therefore, as a set-off for the loss of Kiaochau, a
lease of Port Arthur and Talienwan, situated near the
southern point of the Liaotung Peninsula, and a railway
concession to unite these ports with her Trans-Siberian
Railway. The Chinese Government was too weak to think
of refusing the demands, and the process of gradually
absorbing Manchuria began, in accordance with a plan
already roughly sketched out in St. Petersburg.

In the light of a few authentic documents and many
subsequent events, the outline of this plan can be traced
with tolerable accuracy. In the region through which the
projected railways were to run there was a large marauding
population, and consequently the labourers and the works

764 RUSSIA

would have to be protected; and as Chinese troops can
never be thoroughly relied on, the protecting force must be
Russian. Under this rather transparent disguise a small
army of occupation could be gradually introduced, and in
establishing a modus vivendi between it and the Chinese
civil and military authorities, a predominant influence in the
local administration might be established. At the same time,
by energetic diplomatic action at Pekin, which would be
brought within striking distance by the railways, all rival
foreign influences migh't be excluded from the occupied
provinces, and the rest might be left to the action of
"spontaneous infiltration." Thus, while professing to
uphold the principle of the territorial integrity of the Celestial
Empire, the Cabinet of St. Petersburg might practically
annex the whole of Manchuria, and transform Port Arthur
into a great naval port and arsenal, a far more effectual
"Dominator of the East" than Vladivostock, which was
intended, as its name implies, to fulfil that function. From
Manchuria the political influence and the spontaneous infil-
tration would naturally extend to Korea, and on the deeply
indented coast of the Hermit Kingdom new ports and
arsenals, far more spacious and strategically more important
than Port Arthur, might be constructed.

The grandiose scheme was carefully laid, and for a time
it was favoured by circumstances. In 1900 the Boxer
troubles justified Russia in sending a large force into Man-
churia, and enabled her subsequently to play the part of
China's protector against the inordinate demands of the
Western Powers for compensation and guarantees. For a
moment it seemed as if the slow process of gradual infiltra-
tion might be replaced by a more expeditious mode of
annexation. As the dexterous diplomacy of Ignatiev in 1858
had induced the Son of Heaven to cede to Russia the rich
Primorsk provinces between the Amur and the sea, in return
for Russian protection against the English and French, who
had burnt his Summer Palace, so his successor might now
perhaps be induced to cede Manchuria to the Tsar for similar
reasons.

No such cession actually took place, but the Russian
diplomatists in Pekin could use the gratitude argument in

INTERVENTION OF JAPAN 765

support of their demands for an extension of the rights and
privileges of the "temporary" occupation; and when China
sought to resist the pressure by leaning on the rival Powers
she found them to be little better than broken reeds. France
could not openly oppose her ally, and Germany had reasons
of her own for conciliating the Tsar, whilst England and the
United States, though avowedly opposing the scheme as
dangerous to their commercial interests, were not prepared to
go to war in defence of their policy. It seemed, therefore,
that by patience, tenacity and diplomatic dexterity Russia
might ultimately attain her ends. But a surprise was in
store for her. There was one Power which recognised that
her own vital interests were at stake, and which was ready
to undertake in defence of them a life-and-death struggle.

Though still smarting under the humiliation of her expul-
sion from the Liaotung Peninsula in 1895, and watching
with the keenest interest every move in the political game,
Japan had remained for some time in the background, and
had confined her efforts to resisting Russian influence in
Korea and supporting diplomatically the Powers who were
upholding the policy of the open door. Now, when it had
become evident that the Western Powers would not prevent
the realisation of the Russian scheme, she determined to
intervene energetically, and to stake her national existence
on the result. Ever since 1S95 she had been making military
and naval preparations for the day of the revanche, and now
that day was at hand. Against the danger of a coalition
such as had checkmated her on the previous occasion she was
protected by an alliance which she had concluded with
England in 1902, and she felt confident that with Russia
alone she was quite capable of dealing single-handed. Her
position is briefly and graphically described in a dispatch,
telegraphed at that time (July 28th, 1903) by the Japanese
Government to its representative at St. Petersburg, instruct-
ing him to open negotiations :

"The recent conduct of Russia in makint,' new demands at Pekin
and tightening her hold upon Manchuria has led the Imperial Govern-
ment to believe that she must have abandoned her intention of retiring
from that province. At the same time, her increased activity upon
the Korean frontier is such as to raise doubts as to the limits of her

766 RUSSIA

ambition. The unconditional and permanent occupation of Manchuria
by Russia would create a state of things prejudicial to the security
and interests of Japan. The principle of equal opportunity (the open
door) would thereby be annulled, and the territorial integrity of China
impaired. There is, however, a still more serious consideration for
the Japanese Government. If Russia were established on the flank
of Korea she would constantly menace the separate existence of that
Empire, or at least exercise in it a predominant influence ; and as
Japan considers Korea an important outpost in her line of defence,
she regards its independence as absolutely essential to her own repose
and safety. Moreover, the political as well as commercial and in-
dustrial interests and influence which Japan possesses in Korea are
paramount over those of other Powers; she cannot, having regard to
her own security, consent to surrender them to, or share them with,
another Power."

In accordance with this view of the situation, the Japanese

Government informed Count Lamsdorff that, as it desired
to remove from the relations of the two Empires every cause
of future misunderstanding, it would be glad to enter with
the Imperial Russian Government upon an examination of
the condition of affairs in the Far East, with a view to
defining the respective special interests of the two countries
in those regions.

Though Count Lamsdorff accepted the proposal with
apparent cordiality and professed to regard it as a means of
preventing any outsider from sowing the seeds of discord
between the two countries, the idea of a general discussion
was not at all welcome. Careful definition of respective
interests was the last thing the Russian Government desired.
Its policy was to keep the whole situation in a haze until
it had consolidated its position in Manchuria and on the
Korean frontier to such an extent that it could dictate its
own terms in any future arrangement. It could not, how-
ever, consistently with its oft-repeated declarations of dis-
interestedness and love of peace, decline to discuss the
subject. It consented, therefore, to an exchange of views,
but in order to ensure that the tightening of its hold on the
territories in question should proceed pari passu with the
diplomatic action, it made an extraordinary departure from
ordinary procedure, entrusting the conduct of the affair, not
to Count Lamsdorff and the Foreign Office, but to Admiral
Alexeyev, the newly created Viceroy of the Far East, in whom

NEGOTIATIONS WITH JAPAN 767

was vested the control of all civil, military, naval, and
diplomatic affairs relating to that part of the world.

From the commencement of the negotiations, which
lasted from August 12th, 1903, to February 6th, 1904, the
irreconcilable differences of the two rivals became apparent,
and all through the correspondence, in which a few apparent
concessions were offered iDy Japan, neither Power retreated
a step from the positions originally taken up. What Japan
suggested was, roughly speaking, a mutual engagement to
uphold the independence and integrity of the Chinese and
Korean empires, and at the same time a bilateral arrange-
ment by which the special interests of the two contracting
parties in Manchuria and in Korea should be formally
recognised, and the means of protecting them clearly defined.
The scheme did not commend itself to the Russians. They
systematically ignored the interests of Japan in Manchuria,
and maintained that she had no right to interfere in any
arrangements they might think lit to make with the Chinese
Government regarding that province. In their opinion,
Japan ought to recognise formally that Manchuria lay out-
side her sphere of interest, and the negotiations should be
confined to limiting her freedom of action in Korea.

With such a w^de divergence in principle the two parties
were not likely to agree in matters of detail. Their conflict-
ing aims came out most clearly in the question of the open
door. The Japanese insisted on obtaining the privileges of
the open door, including the right of settlement, in Man-
churia, and Russia obstinately refused. Having marked out
Manchuria as a close reserve for her own colonisation, trade,
and industry, and knowing that she could not compete with
the Japanese if they were freely admitted, she declined to
adopt the principle of "equal opportunity" which her rivals
recommended. A fidtis Achates of Admiral Alexeyev ex-
plained to me quite frankly, during the negotiations, why
no concessions could be made on that point. In the work
of establishing law and order in Manchuria, constructing
roads, bridges, railways, and towns, Russia had expended an
enormous sum — estimated by Count Cassini at ^60,000,000
— and until that capital was recovered, or until a reasonable
interest was derived from the investment, Russia could not

768 RUSSIA

think of sharing with anyone the fruits of the prosperity
which she had created.

We need not go farther into the details of the negotia-
tions. Japan soon convinced herself that the onward march
of the Colossus was not to be stopped by paper barricades,
and knowing well that her actual military and naval
superiority was being rapidly diminished by Russia's war-
like preparations, she suddenly broke off diplomatic relations
and commenced hostilities.

Russia thus found herself engaged in a war of the first
magnitude, of which no one could predict the ultimate con-
sequences, and the question naturally arises as to why, with
an Emperor who had aspired to play in politics the part of
a great peacemaker, she provoked a conflict, for which she
was very imperfectly prepared— imposing on herself the
obligation of defending a naval fortress, hastily constructed
on foreign territory, and united with her base by a single
line of railway 6,000 miles long ! The question is easily
answered : she did not believe in the possibility of war. The
Emperor was firmly resolved that he would not attack Japan,
and no one would admit for a moment that Japan could have
the audacity to attack the great Russian Empire. In the
late autumn of 1903, it is true, a few well-informed officials
in St. Petersburg, influenced by the warnings of Baron
Rosen, the Russian Minister in Tokio, began to perceive
that perhaps Japan would provoke a conflict, but they were
convinced that the military and naval preparations already
made were quite sufficient to repel the attack. One of these
officials — probably the best informed of all — said to me quite
frankly: "If Japan had attacked us in May or June, we
should have been in a sorry plight, but now (November,
1903) we are ready."

The whole history of territorial expansion in Asia tended
to confirm the prevailing illusions. Russia had advanced
steadily from the Ural and the Caspian to the Hindu Kush
and the Northern Pacific without once encountering serious
resistance. Not once had she been called on to make a great
national effort, and the armed resistance of the native races
had never inflicted on her anything worse than pin-pricks.
From decrepit China, which possessed no army in the

THE TREATY OF PORTSMOUTH 769

European sense of the term, a more energetic resistance was
not to be expected. Had not Muraviev Amurski with a few
Cossacks quietly occupied her Amur territories (1851-58)
without provoking- anything more dangerous than a diplo-
matic protest? Had not Ignatiev annexed her rich Primorsk
provinces (1859-61), including the site of Vladivostock, by
purely diplomatic means? Why should not Count Cassini,
a diplomatist of the same type as Ignatiev, imitate his adroit
predecessor and secure for Russia, if not the formal annexa-
tion, at least the permanent occupation, of Manchuria?
Remembering all this, we can understand why the Russian
Government committed its great mistake. It certainly did
not want war— far from it — but it wanted to obtain Man-
churia by a gradual, painless process of absorption, and it
did not perceive that this could not be attained without a life-
and-death struggle with a young, vigorous nationality, which
has contrived to combine the passions and virtues of a primi-
tive race with the organising powers and scientific appliances
of the most advanced civilisation.

The war began on February 6th, 1904, and was for
Russia an uninterrupted series of defeats and disasters, but
the Japanese were so exhausted by their victorious campaign-
ing that, before a year and a half had passed, they unofficially
suggested to the President of the United States that he might
intervene as mediator. Mr. Roosevelt adopted the idea, and
his mediation was so successful that on August 9th, 1905,
the plenipotentiaries of the two belligerent Powers met at
Portsmouth, New Hampshire. During the first sittings of
the conference the two parties seemed hopelessly irreconcil-
able. Japan demanded a large war indemnity, the Island of
Sakhalin, and a limitation of Russian armaments in the
Pacific ; and on these three points, which her representatives
declared to be essential, Russia replied with an absolute
refusal. For three weeks this uncompromising attitude was
maintained on both sides, and then suddenly, when the
Russian plenipotentiaries were on the eve of their departure,
the Japanese unexpectedly withdrew their demands for an
indemnity and a limitation of armaments, and consented to
a partition of the disputed island. On this basis peace was
signed on September 5th, 1905, much to the surprise and

770 RUSSIA

disappointment of the Russian Commander-in-chief in Man-
churia and some of the Tsar's most influential advisers, who
believed that the tide of fortune was about to turn, and who
hoped that the peace negotiations would be wrecked on the
indemnity question.*

Russian expansion has thus been checked, for some years,
at least, on the Pacific Coast ; but the expansive tendency,
whose periods of quiescence have never been of long dura-
tion, may perhaps soon reappear in other regions. Will it
take the form of pacific infiltration in some northern or
western portion of the Chinese Empire ? Or will it make
itself felt in Persia or Afghanistan, in proximity to our
Indian frontier ? Or will the Government direct it to the
Balkan Peninsula and Constantinople, in the hope of stimu-
lating the popular enthusiasm which was conspicuously
absent in the Manchurian campaign ? To such questions I
can give no definite answer, because so much depends on
fortuitous circumstances which cannot possibly be foreseen.
All I can say with tolerable certainty is that it will seek, as
it has done in the past, what seems to be the line of least
resistance at the given moment.

* I can testify personally to the surprise of the Russian plenipotentiaries at
Japan's sudden change of attitude, for I was in daily communication with
them on the spot during the whole course of the negotiations. At the end
of the three weeks they had given up all hopes of a pacific solution ; and I
remember well how M. Witte, the first plenipotentiary, on leaving our
hotel for the sitting of the Conference at which the most objectionable of
the Japanese claims were withdrawn, gave orders to his servant that every-
thing should be packed up, as he would start for Russia next morning.
Two hours later, I was informed that the whole situation was changed, and
that peace was practically secured. Subsequently I learned from trust-
worthy sources that in St. Petersburg the surprise was equally great, and
the news not altogether welcome, because certain influential personages
had by this time been convinced by the telegrams from Manchuria that a
continuation of the war would be for the advantage of Russia.

INDEX

Abdullah, Bashkir troubadour, 212
Abercrombie, John, Circassian Scots-
man, 256
Abuses, administrative, 384, 543, 581

— judicial administrative, 543, 581,

691
Administration, centralised, 378

— Imperial, and the Commune, 128
and the Zemstvo, 566

— — described, 374

— — designed by Peter the Great,

— — growth of, 370

— — modem, 389

— municipal, 191

— provincial, Alexander II. and, 558

— territorial, 374

— under Tsars of Muscovy, 371

— (see also Bureaucracy)
Administrative abuses, 384, 543, 581

— — judicial, 543, 581, 691

— — laws against, 389
remedy for, 389

" Administrative Procedure " in case

of political offences, 358
Aehrenthal, Count, 758
.^Esthetic literature, 433
AflSnity law, 96
Afghanistan, Russian expansion felt

in, 759
Agrarian Conservatives and Count
Witte, 667

— disturbances, 722

— movement, the revolutionary, 1 5 1

— question in the first Duma, 730
Agricultural colleges, necessity for,

555

— progress, 526

— three-field system of, 244

— triennial system of, loi
Agriculture, futile attempt to reform,

347

— improvement of, 544, 554

— in the north, loi

— intensive system of, 554

— primitive system of, 95, 117

— Zemstvo and, '^72,

Aks4kof, Ivan, on Russian Church, 69
Alexander I., 409, 429

— emancipation of serfs attempted

Ijy, 474

Alexander II., 317, 359

— accession of, 450

— and provincial administration,

558

— assassination of, by Grinevitski,

649

— attempted assassination of, 621,

647

— attempts to conciliate revolu-

tionists, 647

— emancipation of serfs by, 461, 4S9,

513

— foreign policy of, 754

— humane policy of, 450

— Poland and, 619

— reform of law courts bj', 585

— reforms of, 451, 502, 585
Alexander III., 690

— and rural communes, 130 {note)

— character of, 690

— foreign policy of, 754
Alexandrov-Hai, discussion with

Molokdnye at, 259
Alexeyev, Admiral, 766
Alexis, Tsar, 275
Alien confessions, religious freedom

granted to, 708
Anarchists, programmes of, 681

— (see also Terrorists and Terrorism)
Anglican Church, 304

Anne, Empress, 421
Anti-agriculturists, 241
Antichrist, Peter the Great regarded
as, 277, 406

— Tsar as, 286, 288

Arbiters of the Peace, emancipation

officials, 507
Archangel, 749

— Province of, 375
Aristocracy, Noblesse not an, 319
Art, religious, 303

Artel, description of an, 92

— co-operative institution, 668
Artisans, position of, 190
Assemblies, village, since the Eman-
cipation, 541

Assembly, district, 560

— for Province, 581

— provincial, 561

of St. Petersburg, 566

— village, 124, 546

771

772

INDEX

Associations, workmen's, 9J, 123, 687

Asylums, lunatic, 86

Austria and the Russo-Turkish War,

1877-8, 735

— annexes Bosnia and Herzegovina,

758
Autocracy, evils of, 382
Autonomists, number of, in first

Duma, "jzy
Azov, Sea of, 9

Baader, 427

Baku, growth of, 183

— disorders at, 705
Bakiinin, anarchist, 626, 681
Balkan Peninsula, expansion in the

direction of, 757
Ballot voting amongst peasants a

failure, 132
Baltic provinces, disorders in, 719,

722

— Sea, 750

Bank porters' association, 92
Banks, land, 538, 554

— mortgage, government, 524

— peasant, 670

— village, 99
Baron, title of, 320
Barristers on judicial evils, 691
Bashkiria, 207

Bashkirs, Tartar tribe, 208, 209, 221,

225
Baths, communal, 32

— vapour, 32

Batum, disorders at, 705
Batushka, village priest, 51
Bazaars, decay of the, no
Bekhteyev, M., on serf-emancipation,

518
Belaya, Krinitsa, bishopric founded

at, 284
Bell, The, journal, 454, 615, 620
Belozvorov, false prophet, 264
Berlin, Congress of, 753
Besedy (conversazioni), 106
Bezpopovsti, or Priestless People,

282, 285, 286, 291
Biron, favourite of Duchess of

Courland, 421
Black Clergy, 57, 300 {see also Clergy)
Black-Earth Zone, estates in the, 518,

521

— results of emancipation in, 535
Black Sea, 751

Blagotchinny, parish priest, 57
Bludov, Count, 585
Bogolubski, Prince, 306
Bolshik, head of the house, 93
Boris Godunov, Tsar, 462

Bosnia, annexation of, by Austria, 758
Boxer troubles of 1900, 764
Boyars, landed proprietors, 305
Brandy farmers, tips given by, 381
Bride, a peasant, 96
Bridges, danger of crossing, 15
British merchants in Russia, 200
Buckle's " History of Civilisation,"

popularity of, 113, 607
Building impossible in winter, 93
Bulgarian atrocities, 754

— colonists, 251

Bul;fghin Commission on the Duma,
706

— Constitution, the, 711
Buntari, revolutionaries, 637
Bureau, Russian, 326
Bureaucracy, the, abuses by the

ofl&cials of, 381, 453

— difficulties of the, 379

— evils of, 379

— hostility to, 355, 691

— law-making by the, 390

— necessity for, 378, 379

— officials of the, 376

— procedure of, 382

— reforms in, 382, 705

— venality of officials of, 440

— Zemstvo and, 566

Burgher element, creation of, 187
Burghers' corporation, 191
Byzantine emperors, 751
Tsars as successors of, 307

— factor in foreign policy, 751

Cadets, the (Constitutional Demo-
crats), number of, in first
Duma, 726

— in second Duma, 733, 734

— in third Duma, 739

— influence of, in first Duma, 727

— policy of, 728, 734

Camels used for agricultural pur-
poses, 266 {note)

Capital pimishment, abolished, 583

Capitalism, influence of, on peasant
life, 109

Capitalists, foreign, in Russia, 664

Card-playing, prevalence of, 179

Cassini, Count, 767

Catherine II., 299, 313, 409, 490

— and Byzantine empire, 752

— and foreign influence, 424

— and religious converts, 163

— and town-building, 187

— class rights introduced by, 368

— economic policy of, 658

— industrial reforms by, 658

— Noblesse under, 312

INDEX

773

Catherine II., religious tolerance of,

279, 286

— serfage under, 472
Cattle, disease in, 536

— leanness of, 102

Cause of the People, revolutionary

periodical, 626
Celibacy of Black Clergy, 57 (see

Clergy)
Census lists first, 125, 757
Chief committee of peasant affairs,

490
China, Russian designs on, 761, 764
Cholera, 75, 82, 85
" Christ's People," religious sect, 288
Church, the, art in, 303

— Eastern Orthodox, 294, 297

— Greek, 65, 294, 297

— impossibility of union of Russian

with Anglican, 304

— land secularised, 301

— monasticism in the, 301

— Russian, 273, 297, 302

— — and State, 293
and Tsar, 296

— — National, 297

— — Synod of, 368

— — tolerance of, 303 {see also

Clergy)
Circassian Scotsmen, 256
Class distinction, 365

— hatreds, absence of, 368

— barriers, Peter the Great and, 367

— rights introduced by Catherine II.,

368
Classes, recognised by law, t,6j

— social, 365
Classicism, 430

Clergy, a proletariat of the, 61

— Black, 57, 300

— government and the, 61

— loyalty of, 298

— people's lack of respect for, 58

— power of Black, 300

— Protestant, 64

— — and education, 65

— sons of the, 63

— state grant to parish, 69

— supply of,exceeding demand for, 61

— symptoms of change in condition

of, 10

— tolerance of, 68, 303

— unsatisfactory condition of, 51,

59, 62, 69

— White, history of, 60

— {see also Priests)
Climate of Far North, 117
Club de la Noblesse, 560
Clubs, workmen's, 704

Code, class statistics from, 366

— criminal, 597
Cold, death from, 23
Colonies, Jewish, 253

— Mennonite, 249, 254
Colonisation, 248
Colonists, Bulgarian, 251

— Cossacks as protectors of the, 237

— foreign, on the Steppe, 247

— government and the, 254

— Greek, 252

— religion amongst the, 255

— Russification of, very slow, 253
Colony, Scottish, 255
Commercial classes, alleged dis-
honesty of, 198

— crisis in 1900, 665

— morality, 198

— policy of Russia, 755
Committee of workmen's delegates,

720, 724
Communal census lists, 125

— institutions strengthened by

emancipation, 5 1 3

— land, 97

— — distribution of, 126, 136

— — redistribution of, 128 {note),

136, 544, 546

— — rules concerning cultivation

of, 140

— — theory of, 505

— — three kinds of, 139

— system, advantages of, 147

— — and revolutionary ideas, 546

— — attempt to reform, 348

— — condemned, 544

— — future of, 546

— taxes, abolition of responsibility

for, 124
Commune, the, 120, 465

— absentees remain in, 107, 149

— and Imperial administration, 129

— Contemporary adherents and the,

143

— decisions of, 133

— democratic character of, 130

— effect of reforms on, 142

— elections, 134

— female members of, 132

— meetings of, 130

— powers of, 124, 133

— Proletariat and, 144

— rural, 120, 130 {note), 463

— Speaker in, 131

— the, constitution of, 123

— the Slavophils and the, 143

— theory of, 125

— Tsars and the 130 {note), 407

— voting in, 132

774

INDEX

Comte, Auguste, influence of, 607

Conscription, 240

Conservatives, ^6^, 442, 455, 456, 667

— in the first Duma, 727
Consistorial Council, 300
Consistory of the Province, 57, 60
Constantine, Grand Duke, 491, 513,

619
Constantinople, 233, 295, 751
Constitution, desire for, 359, 363, 493,

691

— granted, 1905, 710
Constitutional Democrats {see Cadets)
Contemporary, The, Russian period-
ical, 143

— adherents of, suspended tem-

porarily, 609, 716
Convicts, punishment of, 584
Co-operative institutions, 668
Coronation of Nicholas II., 399
Corporal punishment for defaulting

taxpayers, 100
Cossack rising, 471, 637, 673
Cossacks, the, 233

— agriculture by Don, prohibited,

241

— " Beating the Bounds" by, 244

— Dnieper, the, 236

— Don, the, 8, 237, 239, 241

— free, 235, 237

— independence of, lost, 236

— land distributed amongst, 243

— life of Don, in olden times, 241

— modern, 239

— organisation of, in 1873, 240

— Ural, the, 237, 239

— Volga, the, 237

Cotton trade, growth of, 659, 661
Council of state, 374

— Privy, abolition of, 377
Coimt, title of, 320
Counter-revolutionary movement,

1905, 715
Courland, Duchess of, 322, 420
Courts, criminal, 588

— district, 342

— Justice of the Peace, 586

— — defects in, 595

popularity of, 592

reform of, 595

— New Law, 586

— of appeal, 588

— Old Law, 581

— old police, 593

— ordinary, 588

— {see also Law Courts)
Crimea, Khan of the, 233
Crimean slave trade, 233

— War and its consequences, 437

Crimean War, dissatisfaction after,

444

— — humiliation after, 444

— — optimism of Russia before, 442

— — pamphlets issued during, 445

— — reform enthusiasm after, 444,

690
Criminal code, 597
Cronstadt, mutiny at, in 1905, 717
Curatorships, voluntary, 70
Cutlery industry, 109

DE Maistre, 427
Debtors, treatment of, 99
"December Catastrophe" of 1825,

428, 437
Decorations, traffic in, 196
Degaiev, revolutionist, 650
Deutsch, Leo, revolutionist, 650
Devier, Count, 310
Disease, old conceptions of, 85

— on the Sheksnd, 75
Dissenters, Catherine II. and, 279

— celibacy amongst, 287

— creed of, 280, 282, 285

— distinct from heretics, 273

— excommunicated, 276

— marriage amongst, 287

— organisation of, 280, 282, 285

— Peter the Great and, 277

— schism amongst, 282
District assembly, 560

— courts, 342

— towns, 190

Districts, subdivision'~'of Provinces,

374
Dmitri of the Don, 295 {note), 306
Dnieper, Zaporoviaus of the, 236
Dobrolubov, 624
Doctor, interview with a, 72
Doctors, 86

Dolgoroukov, Prince, 710
Domestic serfs, the, 143, 485

— — Emancipation and, 504

— slaves, 143, 485, 504

Don, Cossacks of the, 8, 237, 239, 241

— navigation of the, 7

— steamers, insects on board the, 8
Drama, 431

Drenteln, General, assassination of,

645
Dukhobortsi (Russian Quakers), 263
Duma, the, 544

— institution of, 710

— first, composition of, 726

— — dissolution of, 731

— — failure of, 733

— — influence of cadets in, 727
opening of, 725

INDEX

775

Duma, first, political tendencies of,
726

— — story of, 727

— Nicholas II. proposes to convene

a, 706

— second, composition of, 733

— — dissolution of, 736

— — failure of, 736

— — opening of, 732

— — Social Democrats indicted in,

736

— — story of, 733

— third, compared with previous

Dumas, 737

— — elected by revised electorate,

717

— — general character of, 738

— — legislative usefulness of, 740
Durnovo, M., 725

Dvor6vuye, domestic slaves, 143, 485,

504
Dvorydnskaya Opeka,Russian bureau,

326

East, Far, the, Russian designs on,

758
Easter ceremonies in Moscow, 396
Eastern Orthodox Church, 294

— Question, 757

Slavophils and, 415

Education among the Tartars, 165

— effect of, upon morality, 539

— Protestant clergy and, 65
Educational system, reforms in, 623,

625
Ekaterinoslav, growth of, 183
Election law, modifications in, 737
Electors, ofl&cial pressure on, 727
Elizabeth, Princess, 421
Emancipated peasantry, 528
Emancipation of serfs, 12, 79, 489

— Alexander I. and, 474

— Alexander II. and, 461, 489, 513

— by whom effected, 513

— effect on class distinctions, 309

— — of, on manufacturing industry,

660

— — of the, upon peasantry, 79, 99,

528

— — of, upon proprietors, 515

— — of, upon provincial adminis-

tration, 558

— — on Commune, 142

— — on servants, 79

— German's view of, 40

— government scheme for, 495

— law of, 500, 504

— literature and, 353

— marriage of serfs allowed by the, 79

Emancipation of serfs, Nicholas I.
and, 474

— Noblesse and, 489, 493, 502, 506

— number of serfs at the, 503, 513,

517

— peasantry disappointed witii, 41,

504

— press and the, 492, 515

— proprietors since, 515

— prosperity of people since, 533

— provincial committees on, 495, 498

— settlement of difficulties of, 508

— Slavophils and, 414
Emigration of the peasantry, 184
;6migres, revolutionary, 626
Engineers' Mutual Aid Society, 687
Epoch of the Restoration, 428
Estates, classification of, 477
European influence on Russia, 312,

317, 407, 411, 420

— Russia, area of, 552

— — bird's-eye view of, 27
Exports of grain, 526

Factories, effect of, upon home
industries, 531, 569

— growth of, III
Factory inspectors, 1 1 1

— legislation, 112, 686, 724
Fairs, 109

Family life among peasantry, 88, 97
Far East, the, Russian designs on, 758

— North, climate of, 117
Fasts of the peasantry, 104
" Feldsher," 86

— interview with a, 72
Fetes, parish, 103

Filipov, Vera, revolutionist, 650
Finnish aborigines, Russification of,
154, 166

— tribes, moroseness of, 6

— villages, 152
Finns, religion of, 156

— number of, 1 54
Fishing in Far North, 119
Folklore, 119

Food, decrease of production of, 526,
536

— in Northern Russia, 34

— increasing surplus of, 553

— of peasantry, 34, 104

Foreign influence, 312, 317, 407,411,
420

— — hostility to, during Napoleonic

wars, 426

— — reaction against, 408

— policy, 443

— — Byzantine factor in, 751

— — territorial expansion and, 743

776

INDEX

Foreign trade statistics, 553
Forests, 105, 553, 745
Frederickshamm, Treaty of, 750
Free Cossacks, 749

— Trade, 755

Protection v., 660

French influence on Russia, 313, 407,
441

— Revolution, effect of, on Russia,

426

of 1848, 435

Fugitives, peasant, 466, 470, 483

— religious sect, 289

Gapon, Father, 694

— — and the Democrats, 697

— assassination of, 703

— in exile, 702

— flight of, 702

— leads procession on " Red Sun-

day," 702

— petition of, to the Tsar, 698, 700

— Witte's opinion of, 704
Gendarmerie, formation of, 384

— present day, 385

— reconstruction of, 385
Generals common in Russia, 329
Genghis Khan, 294

— — character of, 227

— — empire of, 226, 227

— — policy of, 227
Georgia, armed rising in, 705
German colonists, 247

— influence, 420, 427

— merchants in Russia, 200
Germany seizes Kiaochau, 763
Gogol, author, 353, 433

Gold currency, introduction of, 663
Golden Horde, the, 228

— — founder of the, 228

— — policy of the Khans of the,

292
Gorem^kin, M., appointed Prime
Minister, 725

— replaced by M. Stolypin, 732
Gostinny Dvor or Bazaar, 182
Government towns, 189

— provinces, 374

Governors, provincial, powers and

duties of, 375
Grain production and export, 526
Grand Princes of Muscovy {see

Muscovy)
Great Russian, The, periodical, 609
Greek colonists, 252

— Orthodox Church {see Church,

Eastern Orthodox)
Grigoriev, Ivan, false prophet, 265
Grigorovitch, the novelist, 76

Grinevitski, assassination of Alex-
ander II. by, 649

Grodno, police strike at, 719

Guests' court, 182

Gun-making, introduction of, in
fifteenth century, 655

Hai<turin, revolutionist, 647
Hannibal, Commander-in-Chief, 310
Harvest festivals, 103
Hegelian theory of universal history,

408
Heretics, among the, 258

— future of, 270

— police and, 280
Hermitage, St. Petersburg, 418
Herzegovina, annexation of, by Aus-
tria, 758

Herzegovinian insurrection, 1875, 753

Herzen, M., 620

Hospitality in Russia, 323

Hospitals, public, 85

Hotel accommodation, 10-13

Hughes, John, ironworker, 661 , 664

Hungarian insurrection, suppre.ssion

of, 435
Hunting in Far North, 119

Iberian Madonna, 402

— domiciliary visits of, 64, 402
Ibn Batuta, 228

Icon, Kazan, 68
Icon-painting at Vladimir, 109
Icons, description of, 66

— miraculous, 67

— significance of, 67

— simple, 67

— Synods and, 67
Ignatiev, 764

Illegals, professional revolutionists,
628

Illegitimates, position of, 95

Imperial administration {see Admin-
istration)

India, Russian policy and, 760

Individualism, 496

Industrial progress and the Pro-
letariat, 655

— — effect of, on revolutionary

movement, 672

— reforms of Peter the Great, 656
Industries, home, 108

— — assisted by Zemstvo, 567

— — kUledby big factories, 531, 569

M. Witte and, 662

Industry, cotton, 659, 66

— introduction of, 655

— iron, failures in, 665

— — progress of, 656, 661

INDEX

in

Industry, manufacturing, 657

— — development of, 554

— mineral, progress of, 661

— village, 108

— woollen, 657
Inheritance, law of, 95
Inspectors, sanitary, 1 1 1

— factory, i i i

Inventories, institution of, 491
Irkutsk, mutiny at, in 1905, 720
Iron industry', 656, 661, 665
Ishutin, M., revolutionary leader, 621
Ivan III., 655

— creation of Tsardom of Muscovy

by, 756
" Ivan the Great," bell in, Muscow,

396
Ivan the Terrible, 233, 747
Iviknovka, author's arrival at, 35
life at, 48

— communal law at, loi

— description of, 37

— history of, n

— parish priest at, 35, 48
Ivanovo, revolutionary agitators in,

629
Ivanof's picture, 396

Japan and Korea, 762

— negotiations with Russia, 762, 765

— peace signed, 712

— Russian coalition against, 762

— warlike preparations of, 765
Japanese war and its consequences,

689

— — eflfect of, on public, 708

— — — on Russian expansion, 770

— — outbreak of, 689, 762, 768

— — terrorism during, 691

— — Treaty of Portsmouth con-

cluding, 712, 769

— — unpopularity of, 690
Jewish colonists, 253

Jews, persecution of the, by reac-
tionaries, 716

— religious freedom granted, 708
Joint-stock companies, creation of, 400
Judges, character of, 583

— corruption of, 581, 583

— election of, 582

— peasant, 542

Judicial administration, abuses of,
543, 581, 691

— procedure, 580
Juges d' Instruction, 591
Jumpers, heretical sect, 269
Jung-Stilling, 427

Jury, acquittal of proved criminals
by, 598
z*

Jury, and the Criminal Code, 597

— introduction of trial by, 596

— peculiarities of peasant, 600
Justice {see Law Courts)

— of Peace Courts, 586

— — a German's view of the, 42
popularity of, 592

— — session of, procedure at, 42

Kaffa, slave trade in, 234, 236

Kalka, river, 224

Kalmyks, pastoral tribe, 219, 221

Karakozov, attempt of, to assassin-
ate Alexander II., 621

Karalyk, river, 210

Karamzin, Russian historian, 76, 409

Katkov, M., Editor of Moscow
Gazette, 620

Kazan, 5

— Icon of, 68
Kem, 119

Khan Kuyuk, Grand, 229

Khans of the Golden Horde, policy

of, 229
Kharkov, 177, 645
Khlysti, heretical sect, 268
Khodinskoye Polye, catastrophe on,

402
Khozain, head of house, 93
Khrustalev, M., leader of revolution

aries, 711, 717
Kiaochau, seized by Germany, 763
Kiev, 177, 394, 637, 645, 720
Kirghiz, pastoral tribe, 217, 221, 225
Knoop, Ludwig, cotton importer, 659
Knout, castigation with the, 583
Knyaz, title of, 320
Kola, 119
Kolokol, revolutionary paper, 454,

615, 620
Korea, 760

— Japan and, 762

— Russia and, 761
Korff, Baron, 584
Krapotkin, Prince, 634

— — assassination of, 645
Kremlin, Moscow, 395

— — coronation of Nicholas II. at,

399
Kriidener, Frau von, 427
Kuniyss, beverage, 203, 211
Kushk, railway to, 760

Labour deputies addressed by Count
Witte, 718

— — arrest of, 724

— dues of the serfs, 477, 512

— emancipation group, 674

— members in the first Duma, 227

778

INDEX

Laboiir movement, 676
Laissez faire, 496
Lamsdorff, Covmt, 766
Land bank, peasant, 538, 554

— communal (see Communal Land)

— distribution of, amongst Don

Cossacks, 243

— government and redistribution of,

546

— reclaiming of waste, 552

— tenure, commvmal system of,

condemned, 544

— — system of, 139

Landed proprietors (see Proprietors)
Lands, church, secularised, 301
Language, difficulty of learning the,

46

— knowledge of the, necessary for

travelling, 21

— of peasants, 21
Lavrov, Socialist, 628

Law courts, the, Alexander II. and
the reform of, 585

— — new, 586

— — — independence of, 604

— — — political significance of, 604

— — Nicholas I. and corruption in

the, 584
old, evils of, 581

— — — procedure at, 583

ordinary, 588

reform of, 581, 585

— — scale of pimishments, 583

— of inheritance, 95

Laws made by bureaucracy, 390
Lermontov, poet, 353, 431
Lettish peasantry, disorders by, 719
Libau, growth of, 183
Liberals, 706

— agitate for representative institu-

tions, 359, 363

— aims of, 442, 457

— and Polish insurrection, 619

— and revolutionists, 639
Limited liabiUty companies, creation

of, 460
Lipetsk, 646

Literature and social reform, 435
. — classicism in, 430

— manuscript, 445

— romantic, 441

— Russian, 76, 353, 423, 425, 430,

435
aesthetic, 433

— — influence of sentimental school

on, 425, 445
Lithuanian provinces, disorders in,
708

— — emancipation in the, 491

Litvani, Michalonis, on Crimean

slave trade, 233
Live stock, decrease in, 536
Livonian Order, 750
Local government (see Zemstvo)

— ecclesiastical administration, 299
Lodz, growth of, 184

— industrial rival to Moscow, 660
Lunatic asylums, 86

Lystars, military community, 237

Madonna, Iberian, domiciliary visits

of, 402
Mahometans contrasted with Tartars,

160

— rarely converted to Christianity

163
Makarii, Bishop, 295 (noie)
Manchuria, 760

Manufacturers, concessions to, 657
Manufacturing districts, life in, 1 1 1

— industry, 657

— — development of, 554
Manure, 118, 545
Marriage, 287

— affinity, 96

— — allowed to serfs by Emancipa-

tion, 79

— amongst peasantry, 95
Marshals of Noblesse, 570
Marlinski, author, 431

Marx, Karl, discoveries of, in
economic science, 675

Masha, magical medical practitioner
81

Maslov, revolutionist, 650

Masquerading, practice of, 33

Match factory, 1 1 2

Medical science, two stages of, 82

Medicine and witchcraft, 81

Mehemet Zidn, Tartar, 213

Melikov, Count, 385, 648

Melnikof, Mr., 60

Mennonite (religious sect) colonies
249, 254

Menshikov, Prince, 310

Mercantile classes, the towns and, 182

Merchant, home of rich, 192

Merchants, British, 200

— as jurymen, 603

— decorations desired by, 196

— dishonesty of, 197

— German, 200

— ignorance of, 197

— love of ostentation, 194

— position of, in towns, 190

— progress of the, 192

— signs of change in condition of the,

198, 200

INDEX

779

Metternich, Count, 427

Mezentsev, General, assassination of,

645. 653
Migrations, 167, 551

— of people during Dark Ages, 154
Military service, introduction of

universal, 240
Mill, John Stuart, popularity of, in

Russia, 607
Miliitin, Nicholas, 615 (note)
Mineral industries, progress of, 661
Ministers, committee of, 374

— number of, 374

Mir, the, or village community, 120

(see also Commune)
Mirski, Prince Sviatopolk, 691, 697
Mistislaf, Prince, of Galicia, 223
Molokanye, religious sect, 161, 258

— disaffection amongst, 272

— history of the, 263

— mission to, at Samara, 271

— susceptible to German influence,

249

— theology of the, 260, 265
Monasteries, 57, 229

Monastery, Theodosian, at Moscow,

286
Monasticism, 301
Mongol domination, the, 223

— — effect of, on Russia, 231

— — Noblesse under, 306

— government, system of, 228
Mongols, the characteristics of, 225

— distinction between Tartars and,

2-^3, 225

— language of, 226

— policy of the, 228 (see also Tartars)

— religious tolerance of the, 229
Morality, commercial, 198
Morozov, Sava, industrial magnate,

659
Mortgage banks, 524
Moscow, buildings of, 396

— commercial prosperity of, 404

— congress of reformers, 1905, 709

— conservatism of, 413

— coronation of Nicholas II., 399

— Easter Eve in, 396

— Gazette, 620

— growth of, 194

— hostility to bureaucracy in, 694

— objects of interest in, 395

— patriarchate of, instituted, 295

— peasants' union at, 719

— Province, peasantry in, 537

— railway from St. Petersburg to, 2

— serfage radiated from, 476

— Slavophilism received in, 394, 413

— Slavophils and Nihilism, 620

Moscow, street lighting in, 183

— streets, of, 403

— Theodosian monastery at, 286

— workmen's association in, 687

— Zemstvo of, 575
Municipal organisation, 190

— administration, 191

— reforms, 191
Muraviev, 620
Murman coast, 119

Muroli, Venetian artificer, 655
Muscovy, Grand Prince of, 186, 749,
752

— — — attitude of, towards Golden

Horde, 231

— — — territorial expansion by,

233

— Tsar of, first, 233

— — and Turkey, 233

— Tsardom of, created, 756
Muzhiks (see Peasants)

Nail-making in Uloma, 109

— Tver, 109

" Name-days," festivities on, 339
Names in Russia, 39
Naming priests, custom of, 5 1
Narodnaya Volya, revolutionary

group, 639, 640, 648 (note),

649, 672
Narodnoye Dyelo, Socialist paper, 626
Narodovoltsi, 639

National Assembly, desire for a, 707
Nazimof, the Rescript to, 491
Nesselrode, Count, 448 (note)
Neva, river, 4, 417
Nevski engineering works, strike at,

676
Nicholas I. and abuses of judicial

administration, 584

— and administrative abuses, 384

— and voting by ballot, 132

— anecdote of, 398

— character of, 437

— emancipation of serfs, considered

under, 474

— maps the railway from St. Peters-

burg to Moscow, 2-3

— number of factory hands during

reign of, 658

— repressive measures of, 78, 429, 437

— system of, 440

Nicholas II. accepts Count Witte's
lenient policy, 713

— and popular discontent, 693

— and congress of Zemstvos, 709

— autocracy upheld by, 690

— coronation of, 399

— Father Gapon and, 701

ySo

INDEX

Nicholas II., grants constitution, 710

— manifesto of, in 1905, 705

— ukaz of 1904, 693
Nihilism, 45

— alarms the government, 609

— decline of, 624

— defence of, by M. Pissarev, 611

— press and, 615

— proprietors and, 618

— reactionary tendencies against,

619

— repressive measures against, 609,

616

— revolutionary, origin of, 605

— Slavophils and, 621

— students and, 622

— theory of, 621

Nihilist, invention of the term, 611
Nihilists, 672

— energy of lady, 625

Nikon, Patriarch, and ceremonial

reform, 275, 281
Nizhni-Novgorod Fair, 4, 7

industries round, 109

Zemstvo of, 574

Noblesse, the, 305

— aristocrat feeling missing among,

314, 319

— differentiation between, and other

classes, 317

— dissatisfaction among, 311

— emancipation and the, 489, 493,

502, 506

— expropriation of the, 525

— foreign influence and, 424

— French influence on, 313

— future of the, 321

— highest order of, 364

— Club de la, 560

— obligatory service of the, abolished,

312, 471

— peasantry contrasted to, 248

— politically uninfluential in eight-

eenth century, 315

— precedence among, 308

— under Catherine II., 312

— under Mongol domination, 306

— under Paul I., 316

Peter the Great, 309, 523

— — Romanov family, 308

— — Tsardom of Muscovy, 307

— wealth of the, 320, 475

— Western culture and, 312, 317

— {see also Proprietors)

Nogai Tartars, pastoral tribe, 2 2(;
Nomads, 217, 221, 748, 752
Nonconformists {see Dissenters)
Normans from Scandinavia, 172
North, Far, climate of, 117

Northern agricultural zone, 521, 545

— forests, the, 27
Novgorod, description of, 170

— history of, 171

— life in, 177

— monument at, 171

— provincial assembly, 181

— Zemstvo at, 559

" Obrok," serfs on, 477

Octobrists, 738

Odessa, growth of, 184

Odoevski, Prince, on Western Europe,
410

Official procedure, complicated, 382

Officials and the bureaucratic ma-
chine, 376

— Imperial administration and the,

370

— peculation of, 453

— venality of, 380, 440
Old Ritualists, 282, 290

— — government and, 291

— — religious freedom granted, 708
Onega, Lake, Paleostrovski Monas-
tery on islet in, 277

— — religious community near, 285
Orenburg-Tashkent Railway, 759
Orlov-Davydov, Count, 321
Ozerki, Gapon's body found at, 703

Paganism, a survival of, 83
Pal4ti, description of, 31
Paleostrovski Monastery, 277
Panslavist aspirations, 414 {see also
Slavophils)

— school, 752

Papacy, Russian Church and, 293
Paris Revolution, 1848, 435
Parish fetes, 103
Parliamentary institution, desire for

a, 359, 363 {see also Duma)
Pastoral tribes of the Steppe, 200
Patriarchal conception of family life,

308
Patriarchate of Moscow instituted,

295

— — abolished, 296

" Patriarchs' Treasury," Moscow,

395
Patronymics in Russia, 39
Paul I., Noblesse under, 316
Paul III., 473, 475, 477, 760

— and serfs, 477

Pavlovo, cutlery making at, 109
Peasant affairs, chief committee for,
490

— bank, 670

— empire, ideal of a, 360

INDEX

781

Peasant families, effect of Emancipa-
tion upon, 550

— household, 88, 123

— — expenses, 97

— judges, 542

— jury, peculiarities of a, 600

— land bank, 538, 554
Peasantry, 463

— agriculture, among, loi

— bravery of, 85

— cholera amongst, 85

— clergy and the, 58

— commimal land of, 97

— — — and, 126

— communicativeness of, 6

— community of things, 98

— credulity of, 83

— demonstration of the, 539

— disaffection of the, 722

— disappointment of, at the Emanci-

pation, 41, 504

— doctors ill-treated by, 83

— drunkenness of the, 539

— economics of the, 94

— effect of Emancipation on, 79, 99,

528

— emigration of, 184

— enterprise amongst, 1 1 4

— family life among, 97

— — life of, 123

— far northern, 117

— fasts of the, 104

— field work of, 93

— food of, 34, 104

— formation of hybrid class, 149

— fugitivism among, 466, 470, 483

— improvement of, 573

— influence of capitalism on, 109

— inheritance, law of, not known to,

95

— intelligence of Northern, 112

— laziness of, 540

— life of the, 88, loi

— lying in self-defence, 205

— marriages of, 79, 95

— Noblesse contrasted with, 248

— northern, 10 1

— numerical strength of, 475

— occupations of, 117

— power of withstanding heat and

cold, 32

— reform in condition of the, 708

— religion of, 63

— sale of, 469, 472, 486

— self-government by the, 541

— serfage of the, 469

— superstition of, 82

— taxation of, 469, 547

— winter occupations of, 105

Peasants, dishonesty of, 522

— proprietors efforts to retain, 405

— state, 112, 132, 475

— union, 719, 724
Penjdeh incident, 759
Periodicals, monthly, 180
Perjury, common amongst peasantry,

206
Perovski, Sophia, 648, 650
Persia, Russian policy and, 758
Peter the Great, Antichrist, 277, 406

— — character of, 419

— — class barriers strengthened

by, 367

— — creates burgher element, 187

— — Dissenters and, 277

— — Empire at time of, 756

— — foixnding of St. Petersburg by,

419

— — Imperial administration de-

signed by, 371

— — industrial reforms of, 656

— — intellectual movement inau-

gurated by, 419

— — Noblesse under, 309, 523

— — persecutions during reign of,

278

— — policy of, 750

— — poll-tax imposed by, 469

— — reforms of, 278, 418
serfage under, 469

— — Slavophils opposed to, 411

— — wooden house of, at St. Peters-

burg, 418
Peter III. abolishes obligatory ser-
vice of Noblesse, 471

— assassination of, 471

— reforms of, 469
Philipists, religious sect, 288
Pilgrim serfs, 484

Pinsk swamps, drainage of, 552
Pissarev, M., Nihilist author, 611, 624
Plague, Siberian, 75
Plehve, M., 688

— assassination of, 686, 691

— contrasted with Count Witte, 669

— poUcy of, 670

— repressive measures of, 691
Plekhanov, M., revolutionologist au-
thor, 674

Pobedonostsev, M., attempted assas-
sination of, 686

Podorozhanaya, description of a, 18

Pogodin, historian, opposes street
lighting, 183

Pogroms, 716, 717

Poland, Alexander II. and autonomy
for, 619

— dismemberment of, 750

782

INDEX

Poland, disorders in, 1708, 717

— former expansion of, 749

— insurrection of 1863, 619
Polenof, M., on decrease of food, 536
Police and heretics, 281

— courts, old, 593

— terror under Nicholas I., 78
Political life, 366

— offenders, modes of dealing with,

358

— parties, 356

Politics, indifference of Russians to,

440
Poll-tax, imposed by Peter the Great,

469
Pom6rtsi, 286, 287
Population, 462, 475

— density of, 551

— in 1910, 184

— increase of, 184, 550, 756

— migration of, 551

— of towns, 183
Port Arthur, 689

— — leased to Russia, 763
Portsmouth (U.S.A.), treaty of, 712,

769
Positivism, influence of, 607
Post organisation. Imperial, 18
Post-stations, 18, 19, 24
Pravezh, Tartar punishment, 176
Press and Emancipation, 492, 515

— — Nihilism, 615

— bureaucracy and the, 355
censure, 357, 427

— revolutionary, 454, 608, 626

— supervision of, 435, 438

— under Alexander II., 453

" Priestless People," the, 282, 285

— — schism amongst, 286

— — government and, 291
Priests, 539

— contrasted with Protestant pas-

tors, 64

— custom of naming, 51

— education and, 65

— marriage of, 53

— parish, 57

— unsatisfactory condition of village,

51, 59, 62

— {see also Clergy).
Prince, title of, 320

Prince Poiomkin, mutiny on, in 1905,

708
Princes of Moscow {see Muscovy)

— of Russia, early, 229
Printing introduced, 275
Procureur, power of, 298
Proletariat, a clerical, 61

— and the Commune, 144

Proletariat, fear of the, 144, 497

— increasing, 120

— industrial progress and the, 655
Property, distribution of, 95
Proprietors, 305

— and Nihilism, 618

— cruelties of, towards serfs, 473

— domestic servants of the, 485

— efforts of, to retain peasants, 465

— family life of serfs controlled by,

97

— hospitality of, 323

— modern school of, 345

— number of deposed, 488

— old school of, 323

— oppression of the serfs by the, 479

— since the Emancipation, 515

— wealth of the, 320, 475

— {see also Noblesse)
Protection, 657, 660, 662, 755
Protestant pastor contrasted with

Russian priest, 64
Protestantism, 255
Provincial assembly, 561

— — of St. Petersburg, 566

— committees on emancipation, 495,

498

— administration, Alexander II. and,

558

— life, dullness of, 181

— society, 177

— towns, 182
Provinces, government, 374
Pruth, author delayed at the, 386
Pugatchev, Cossack rising under, 471,

637, 673
Punishment, barbarous, 583

— capital, abolished, 583

— corporal, for defaulting taxpayers,

100

— of convicts, 584
Punishments, scale of, 583
Purification, rites of, 33
Pushkin, author, 353, 427, 431
Putilov ironworks, strike at, 695

Races, variety of, in Southern Russia,

246
Railway connecting the Volga with

the Don, 7

— from St. Petersburg to Moscow, 2

— Orenburg-Tashkent, 759

— Trans-Siberian, i, 760, 762
Railways, development of, 2-4

— distance of stations from the

town, I

— improvement in, i

— State organisation of, 3
Ralston, Mr., 119

INDEX

783

Rask61 schism, 279

Rates, the increase of, since creation

of Zemstvo, 570
Rats on board Azov steamers, 9
Reactionaries, 724

— in the first Duma, 727
Redistribution of land {see Communal

Land)
" Red Sunday," 694, 702

— — influence of, on populace, 704
Reformers, Count Witte and the, 713
Reforms after Crimean War, 444, 690

— effect of enthusiasm for, 604

— municipal, 191

— of Alexander II., 451, 502, 585

— of Catherine II., 658

— of Peter the Great, 278, 418
Regular tribunals, 586, 588, 596
Religion, 58, 273, 274, 402

— amongst the colonists, 255

— government's attitude regarding,

162

— and morality, 64

— of Finns, 156

— of peasantry, 63
Religious art, 303

— fanaticism, absence of, 166

— tolerance, 68, 160,229,279, 286, 708
Rescript, the, to Nazimof, 491
Restoration, epoch of the, 428
Revision lists, 125

Revolution, French, effect of, on
Russia, 425

— — of 1848, 435
Revolutionaries, Socialist, 684
Revolutionary agitation, 1875, 629
of 1848, 435

— — of 1 86 1, 617

— demonstrations, 1905, 715 '.^-'J^

— fever rampant in 1905, 717

— ideas, Communal system and, 546

— literature, 674

— movement, aim and plan of, 680

— — counter, 1906, 715

— — effect of industrial progress on,

672

— — new phase of, 570

— — stages of, 672

— pampldets, 629

— press, 653

— Social Democrats, 679
Revolutionists adopt Terrorist policy,

639

— Alexander II. and, 647

— congress, 1879, 646

— reception of Duma by, 711

— repressive measures against, 647

— revenge of, on Gapon, 703

— Witte' s lenient policy with, 713

Riazdn, Zemstvo of, 576
Rights, Bill of, 368
Rites, importance of, 273

— of purification, 33
Ritualists, Old, the, 282, 290

— — government and, 291

— — religious freedom granted, 708
Rivers, travelling on, 4

Roads, badness of, 14, 16, 572

— difficulties of repairing, 16

— Zemstvo and the building of, 572,

574
Romanticism, 430, 441
Roosevelt, Mr. Theodore, acts as

mediator between Russia and

Japan, 769
Rosen, Baron, 768
Rostov-on-the-Don, strikes at, 680
Rural Communes, 120, 463

— — Alexander III. and, 130 {note)

— population, three classes of, 462

— supervisors, 543, 546, 595
Rurik, ruler of Novgorod, 171
Riis tribe, 171

Russia, black country of, 661

— coalition formed by, against J apan,

762

— commercial policy of, 755

— European, area of, 552

— — bird's eye view of, 27

— Far North, 1 1 7

— foreign influence on, 312, 317, 407,

41 1, 420

— foreign policy of, 443, 743, 751

— French influence in, 422

— geographical and political con-

ditions of, 184

— growth of, 742

— hotels in, 10

— industrial position of, 662

— influence of Western Europe on,

312

— intellectual development of, 420

— negotiations of, with Japan, 762,

765

— outbreak of war between, and

Japan, 689, 762, 768

— Papacy and, 293

— population of, 183, 184, 462, 475,

550, 551, 756

— press in, 453

— protection in, 657, 660, 662, 755

— relations of, with Constantinople,

751

— rural population of, 462

— seaward expansion of, 750, 757

— secret societies in, 428, 609, 621,

677

— slavery in, 463

784

INDEX

Russia, Southern, variety of races in,
246

— territorial expansion of, 743

— transitional state of industries in,

III

— Tiirkish war, 753

— Young, 427

Russian burgher element, 189

— Church, 297, 302

and ceremony, 273

and State, 293

— civilisation a strange conglomer-

ation, 87

— Empire, founders of, 172
growth of, 756

— commercial morality, 198

— hospitality, 323

— hostility to foreign influence dur-

ing Napoleonic wars, 246

— ideals, 409

— indifference to politics, 440

— intercourse with Europe begun,

749

— life, old, 394

— literature, 76, 353, 423, 425, 430,

435, 445

— patriarchate, abolition of, 296

— right, legal document, 367

— scenery in, 4

— society, transitional state of, 150

— titles, value of, 320
Russians a religious people, 65

— linguistic talents of, 48

St. Barbara, supposed apparition of,

83
St. Isaac's Cathedral, 418
St. Peter and St. Paul, fortress of, 418
St. Petersburg, court of, under

Catherine II., 313

— description of, 417

— enthusiasm in, at Count Witte's

policy, 714

— European influence and, 417

— general strike of workmen, 1905,

717

— growth of, 184

— insurrection of 1825 in, 437

— — in, 428

— provincial assembly at, 561

— railway from, to Moscow, 2-3

— reason for founding, 419

— Slavophilism a failure in, 413

— strikes at, in 1905, 712, 717

— — in 1896, 678

— unrest in, in 1905, 695

— workmen's organisation at, 698
Sakharov, General, assassination of,

719

Samara, description of, 202

— Molokanye at, 271
Samovar, a " self -boiler," 13
Samovolnaj'^a Ivanovka, origin of, 204
Sanitary inspectors, 11 1

San Stefano, Treaty of, 753

Saratov, disorders at, 719

Savings banks, 538
i "Saviours of the Fatherland," 555

Scandinavia, Normans of, in Russia,
172

Schism (see Dissenters)

Schwanebach, M., on taxation of
peasants, 548

Science and the revolutionary agita-
tion, 622

Scottish colony, a, 255

Sebastopol, 437

— military riots at, in 1905, 708

— mutiny at, in 1905, 720
Secret societies, 428, 609, 621, 6^7
Sectarianism, government and, 269

— political feelings of, 292

— {see also Dissenters)

Sfects, heretical, among the, 258

— — classification of, 267

— — future of, 270

— — numerical strength of the, 291

— — political feelings of, 292
Seizure-right, 718, 721
Self-government, local, and the Zem-

stvo, 558

— — municipal, 188

— — of the peasantry, 541
Sentimental school, 425

Serfage, agricultural nature of, 476

— bearing on scarcity of large towns,

185

— development of, 473

— disadvantages of abolition of, 549

— estates under, 549

— in the north, 476

— in the south, 476

— justification of, 470

— origin of, 463

— radiated from Moscow, 476

— under Catherine II., 472
Paul III., 473

— — Peter the Great, 469
Serfs, the, 462

— Church and, 301

— compelled to live in large families,

97

— condition of the, 336, 473, 478

— cruelties to, 473

— domestic, 143, 485

— — Emancipation and the, 504

— dues paid by, 477, 512

— emancipationof (seeEmancipation)

INDEX

785

Serfs, fugitive, 466, 470, 4S3

— geographical distribution of, 476

— insurrections of the, 484

— labour dues of, 477, 512

— number of, 475

— — emancipated, 503, 513, 517

— oppressors of the, 479

— pilgrim, 484

— punishment of, 481

— sale of, 469, 472, 486

— transportation of the unruly,

341 (note)
Serai, founding of, 228
Serge, Grand Duke, assassination of,

686, 705
Shafirov, Baron, 310
Sheep, decrease in, 536
Sheremetyev, Count, 659
Sheviryev, conspiracy of, 652
" Shto delat' ? " novel, 609
Siberia, best men banished to, 457

(note)

— pioneer colonists in, 551
Sineus, chieftain of Rus tribe, 171
" Sinless revenues," 380
Sipiagin, M., assassination of, 686
Skoptsi sect, 268

Slav and Teutonic languages com-
pared, 46

Slavery, 233, 234, 236, 486

Slavophil sentiment, 406

Slavophilism, failure of, in St. Peters-
burg, 413

— reception of, in Moscow, 413
Slavophils, 143, 752

— aim of, 410

— and Eastern Question, 415

— and Nihilism, 620

— and Peter the Great, 411

— doctrine of, 406

— emancipation of serfs, and, 414

— foreign culture condemned by, 412

— history of the, 405

— modern, 415

— Moscow and, 394, 413

— Panslavist aspirations of, 414
Small-pox, black, 75
Smolensk, 533

Snow cure for frost-bite, 23
Social classes, 365

— — recognised by law, 367

— — statistics of, 366

— Democrats, activitv of, in 1905,

696

— — aim at Socialist Republic, 704

— — and Gapon, 697

— — and the Japanese war, 696

— — attitude of, towards terrorism,

686

Social Democrats, congress of, 1900,
679

— — government and, 687

— — indictment of , by Stol5'pin, 736

— — in the second Duma, 733

— — labour and the, 676

— — plan general political strike,

1905, 711

— — proclaim general strike in

Moscow, 720

— — programme of, 682

— — revolutionary policy of, in

1907, 735

— — schism amongst, 679

— reform, literature and, 435

" Socialism and the Political
Struggle," 674

— growth of, 605
Socialist agitation, 631

— — failure of, 637

— — revival of, 681

— — strong methods of, 637

— propaganda, 625, 628

— — failure of, 635

— — revival of, 682

— propagandists, aims of, 629

— revolutionaries, 684

— — propaganda of, 721

— — terrorist policy of, 685
Socialists, 673

— repressive measures against, 629,

636
Society (see Social Classes and Classes)

— of Russian workmen, 695
Solovief, or Solovyov, Russian his-
torian, 76

Solovyev's attack on the Tsar, 646
South Russian iron works, 662, 664
Southern Russia, industrial progress
in, 662

— — variety of races in, 246
Spitsruten, barbarous punishment,

584
Spitzbergeu, 119

Spring, rapidity of approach of, 102
Staro-obriadtsi, Old Ritualists, 282,

290, 291, 708
State peasants, 112, 130
condition of, 475

— — numerical strength of, 475
Stenka Razin, Cossack rising under,

637, 673
Steppe the, 545, 746

— annexation of, 748

— colonisation of, 746

— foreign colonisation on, 246

— nomadic tribes of, 217,221,748,752

— pastoral tribes of, 202, 232

— — — Tsars and, 235

786

INDEX

steppe, travelling on the, 246
Steward, history of a typical, 38
Stewards, 350

Stefanovitch, Socialist student, 638
Stol^pin, M., agrarian law of, 151

— as Prime Minister, 732

— assassination of, 742

— attempted assassination of, 741

— difficulties of, 740

— indicts Social Democrats of sedi-

tion, 736

— made Minister of the Interior, 725

— opposition of, to Communal sys-

tem, 546

— policy of, 740

— programme of, 733

Strike, general political, recommended
by Revolutionaries in 1905
711

Strikes after " Red Sunday," 704

— of 1894, 676

— of 1896, 678, 686

— of 1902, 680

— of 1905, 695

Students, reception of Nihilism by,

605, 608
Stundists, heretical sect, 267, 271
Sugar factory, 112
Supernumerary towns, 190
Supreme Court of Revision, 586
Svobodnaya Rossia, periodical, 653
Sweden, former expansion of, 750
Switzerland, Russian revolutionists

in, 626, 674
Synod, 368

— tolerance of, 303

— Tsar and the 296

TauEnwan leased to Russia, 763
Tarantass, description of, 17
Tariffs, prohibitive, 657
Tartar community, life in a, 208

— domination, 223

— horde, 747

— traders, 7

— villages, 152

Tartars, characteristics of, 225

— distinction between Mongols and,

223, 225

— education among, the 165

— fanaticism of learned, 165

— Kazan, 225

— language of, 226

— Nogai, 220

— power of early, 743

— tolerance of unlearned, 165
{see also Mongols)

Taxation, 570

— before the eighteenth century, 1 86

Taxation, direct, 548

— indirect, 548

— of peasantry 469, 547

— of rural population by Peter the

Great, 469
Taxes, Communal, abolition of re-
sponsibility for, 124

— — connected with land, 125
Tchaadaev, author, 435
Tchekhov, gun-maker, 656
Tcheremiss, Finnish tribe, 115
Tchernishevski, M., editor of The

Contemporary, 609, 616
Tchigirin, Socialist agitator, 638
Tchin (rank), significance of, 376
Tchinovniks, 355, 453

— term of reproach, 457
Territorial administration, 374

— expansion, 184

— — and foreign policy, 743

— — checked by Japanese War, 770

— — commercial considerations, 755

— — economic considerations in,

744

— — future, 757, 770

— — industrial considerations, 755

— — political aims and, 747

— — summary of influences, 756
Terrorism advocated by Revolution-
aries, 639

— crimes of, 645

— failure of, 651

— in 1905, 19

— in Warsaw, 741

— repressive measures against, 646
Terrorist policy of Socialist-Revolu-
tionaries, 685

Terrorists, 684

— Alexander II. 's attempt to con-

ciliate, 647

— arrests of, 650

— assassination of Alexander II.,

by 649,

— attempts by, to assassinate Alex-

ander II., 646

— attitude of Social Democrats

towards, 686

— policy of, 646

Teutonic and Slav languages com-
pared, 46

Theodosians, branch of Priestless
People, 287

— monastery built by, at Moscow,

286
Thornton factory, strike at, 676
Three-field system of agriculture, 545
Tikhomirov, revolutionist, 651
" Tips " to officials, 380
I Titles in Russia, unimportant, 277

INDEX

787

Titles, value of, 3 jo
Tolstoy, Count Dimitri, Minister,
623, 625

— — the late, 214

— — and the Dukhobortsi, 263
Torture in criminal investigations,

584
Town council, composition of, 191
Towns, causes of insignificance of, 185

— district, 190

— government, 189

— growth of, 183

— mercantile classes and, 182

— populations of, 183

— provincial, character of, 182

— scarcity of large, 183

— supernumerary, 190

— three kinds of, 189

Trade, effect of recent development,
184

— foreign statistics of, 553

— union organisations by the gov-

ernment, 687
Transcendental philosophy, 431
Trans-Siberian Railway, 760, 762
Travelling, 207

— by river, 4-10

— by road, 14, 17, 26

— impossible between summer and

winter, 23

— improvement in railway, i

— in the olden times, 16

— in winter, 21

— need for knowledge of language,

21

— requisites, 11, 20, 22
Trepov, General, 704

— — attempted assassination of,

599
Tribunals, regular, 586, 588, 596
Triennial system of agriculture, 10 1
Trubetskoi, Prince, presents Zemstvo

address to Nicholas II., 709
Truvor, chieftain of Rus tribe, 171
Tsaritsin, railway at, 7
Ts4rkoe Selo, 701
Tsars and the Communes, 467

— and the noblesse, 466

— as Antichrist, 288, 289

— assume descent from Byzantine

emperors, 307

— of Muscovy, administration of

the, 371

— position of, in administrative

system, 374

— relation of, to Synod and the

Church, 296

— Romanov, 308

Turkey, and the Eastern Question, 758

Turkey, war with Russia, 753
Turks, power of the, in sixteenth
century, 233

— Tsars of Muscovy and, 233

— Young, 758

Tver, nail-making at, 109

Ukleik, founder of Molokanye sect,

263
Uloma, nail-making at, 109
Union for the Emancipation of the

Working Classes, 677

— of Foreign Social Democrats, 679

— peasants', 724

" Union of Unions " formed to obtain
national reforms, 707

Universities, restrictions removed
from, 451

Ural, Cossacks of the, 237, 239

Vapour-Baths, 32
Variag tribe, 171
Velikoriiss, periodical, 609
Venetian artificers in Russia, 655
Viborg, cadets at, 731
Village assembly, 124, 546 {sec also
Commune)

— banks, 99

— commimity 120 {sec also Com-

mune)

— elder, 122, 123, 131

— — election of, 135

— life described, 101

— — effects of Emancipation upon,

530

— system, 120

Vladimir, Icon-painting in, 109
Vladimir, Grand Prince of Kiev, 75 1
Vladivostock, i, 763, 764

— mutiny at, in 1905, 720
Volga, cholera on the, 85

— Cossacks of the, 237

— travelling on the, 4
Volkhov, river, 169, 173
Vologda, Bishop of, and persecution

of priests, 299
Volost Coxuts, territorial administra-
tion unit, 542

— — abuses of, 542

— elder of a, 541

Volosts, institution of the, 508
Voronezh, 646
Votidks, 165

Wanderers, religious sect, 289
Warsaw, growth of, 184

— terrorism in, 741

White Clergj^, 60 \sec also Clergy)

788

INDEX

White, Mr. Arnold, and Jewish
colonies, 253 {note)

— Sea, 119

Witchcraft and medicine, 81
Winter occupations, 105
Winter Palace, St. Petersburg, at-
tempt to dynamite, 647

— — Father Gapon's procession to,

694, 698
— travelling, 21
Witte, Count, 688

— — advocates lenient treatment

of revolutionaries, 713

— — Agrarian Conservatives and,

667

— — and the disorders of 1905-6,

723

— — and the labour troubles of

1896, 686

and the St. Petersburg strikers,

718

— — character of, 666

— — contrasted with M. Plehve,

669

— — gold currency introduced by,

663

— — honours for, 712

— — hostility to, 723

— — opinion of, on Gapon, 704

— — overthrow of, 665

— — policy of, 622, 713

— — resignation of, 725

— — rigorous measures of, 724

— — Slavophils and, 415

— — terminates peace negotiations

with Japan, 712
Women field workers, 93, loi

— occupations of, in winter, 106
Wood-stealers, the, 105
Woollen industry, 657

Working classes in manufacturing
districts, iii

— — legislation to improve con-

ditions of, 686

Union for Emancipation of, 677

Workmen's associations, 92, 123,

687

— clubs, 704

— delegates, committee of, 720, 724

Yaguzhinski, Count, 310

Yamstchik, the, driver, 19
Yarmarki, decay of, 110
Yaroslav, Grand Prince, 367
Yaroslavl, province of, 167, 545

— — growth of, 183

— town, 202

Young Russia and Socialism, 627

— Turks, 758

ZagoSKIn, author, 431

Zaporovian Commonwealth, 236, 239

Zasulitch, Vera, 599

Zemlevoltsi, Socialist propagandists,

634
Zemstvo, The, 74, 85, 375

— agricultural improvement by the,

556 .

— and agriculture, 573

— bureaucracy and the, 566

— changes in the, 567

— • complaints against, 570

— congresses of, 691, 709

— creation of, 558, 564

— depots estabUshed by, 556

— deterioration, 578

— duties of, 560

— establishment of, 621

— expenditure of, 569, 571

— future of, 579

— Imperial administration and the,

566

— improvements effected by, 568

— local self-government and, 558

— medical attendance provided by,

85

— Moscow, 575

— Novgorod, 574

— pedantry of, 574

Zemstvos, delegates of, approach
government for a constitu-
tion, 691

— impoverishment of peasants, and,

537

— since the Emancipation, 541
Zhigulinskiya Gori, hills, 5
Zhukovski, poet, 353, 431
Znakharka, a " witch-doctor," 81, 87
Zolotykhin, Captain, assassination of,

653
Zubdtov organises workmen's asso-
ciation, 687

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