A Pacific Emperor—An Imperial Fault—The Pauper's Funeral—The Emperor's Visit to my Mother—My Dilemma—The Emperor's Kindness—He is Snubbed by an Ingenue—The Emperor's Desire for an Alliance with England—Prince Gortschakoff's Rejoinder—The Slav Ideal—Russia and Constantinople—Bismarck's Admiration—He Discomfits a Member of the Reichstag
A noteworthy example of arapprochementbetween England, France, and Russia, long before the Triple Entente in politics became an established fact, was the researches undertaken three-quarters of a century ago, by three leading scientific authorities, into the geological features of the Russian Empire. Sir Roderick Murchison, M. de Verneuil and Count Alexander Keyserling were appointed by their respective Governments to make a joint expedition and, as a result of their labours, wrote a book entitledThe Geology of Russia in Europe and the Urals, which was published by the British Museum in 1845, in two volumes. This was indeed a promising beginning, and may be said to have been the precursor for much co-operation between these nations long before an Entente was within the sphere of practical politics. At any rate, it serves to prove that there is a natural bond of sympathy between the great Allies, and that it is in no sense a question of political expediency.
This took place under the Emperor Nicholas I, who was always for peace, and in particular for an understanding with England. The whole situation in Europe has changed since those days, or rather seems to have changed. In reality it is not so. A few persons have made an effort to open their eyes, and have discovered a well-established fact. That is all. It is an important discovery, no doubt, so important that nervous politicians conjure up imaginary difficulties, and appeal to all sorts of magic utterances: "Balance of power," cries one; "Immediate danger," shouts the other; "Traditional policy," exclaims the third. But all these appeals might as well not have been made. The "newly-discovered fact" has been known to Russians for years, although clever Westerns have only just found it out. It is indeed only natural that we should know it first, for it relates to our Emperor. Europe has learned to feel that there is once more an Emperor Nicholas on the Russian throne, and that in Alexander III even the most imperious of Chancellors found a Sovereign whom no intimidation could dismay, and no menace could deter from the path of duty. Some Englishmen, I regret to say, did not like the memory of the Emperor, whose noble and generous qualities are more and more appreciated in History. The Emperor Nicholas I was undoubtedly a superior man in many respects. Imperious he was, no doubt—it is an Imperial fault!—but he was not only disinterested, he was generous and noble in the highest degree. Books could be written about his kind actions.
He was once driving on a cold winter's day, whenhe perceived a poor hearse, and a still poorer coffin. There were no followers, but the young driver, almost a child, was sobbing bitterly, and evidently overwhelmed with his grief. The Emperor stopped his horse and asked who the departed was.
"It was my father," answered the boy, through a new torrent of tears. "He was a blind beggar, and I had him under my care."
The Emperor left his sledge and followed the humble coffin to the burial ground. Naturally, many people followed His Majesty's example, and the procession became a strange sight. Strange, but fine—paternal, showing once more the link between the great autocrat and his people—a link based on devotion and trust. As a very young child I have myself experienced the kindness of his smile, and felt the protection of his powerful hand.
If I may tell the story again, I remember, when my father died, the Emperor Nicholas I paid a visit of condolence to my mother, and desired to see his god-children. My two brothers and I appeared. I, as the only girl, received from my governess stringent orders before entering the drawing-room to "look well and to make a deep Courtreverence." Penetrated with my new role, and full of zeal, I did my best—which, alas! turned out to be my very worst—I bowed so deeply that suddenly all became confused and I fell over backwards against a pillar. A horrified glance from mother—the roof with its painted flowers and Cupids—misery and bewilderment! But all this lasted only a second. The dear Emperor rushed to me, seized my trembling hands, and began praising me as if I had really coveredmyself, not with ridicule, but with glory. Thus he cheered me and made me happy. People who knew him intimately speak of him with unqualified devotion. But the fascination he exercised did not render less commanding the conscious power which dwelt within him. For he was a power—perhaps the greatest power of his day.
The great and unexpected steps taken by his grandson allowed us to hope to find the same resolute devotion to his country in our present ruler, Nicholas II, and we did not hope in vain.
The Emperor Nicholas I was charmingly courteous and kind to young people. Thus, one day, the Court arrived in Moscow, and the Moscow nobility arranged a brilliant ball to greet Their Majesties. Naturally the young girls all longed to be presented on this occasion. One amongst them was exceedingly beautiful and attractive. The Emperor addressed a few words to her, expressing his pleasure at making her acquaintance. She looked at him somewhat severely, without answering a word.
"Do you not hear what I say?" enquired the Emperor in some surprise.
"Yes," replied the young lady curtly, "I hear, but I do not listen!" (J'enténds mais je n'écoute pas!)
The Emperor, extremely amused by this tone of self-defence, when he never dreamt of attacking or offending, went to the Empress. "There is a charming child here," he said, "most amusing and innocent. Make her your Maid of Honour." This was done. By her position she was quite entitled to this distinction, but still, people were very much amused. Later on she received other honours,occupied a high position at our Court, and died only a short time ago.
One of the great desires of the Emperor Nicholas I was to establish such a close and cordial alliance between Russia and England as even then would form a solid guarantee of peace to the world. It was his desire to cement the alliance that led him to make those overtures to Sir Henry Seymour, which were so basely misrepresented and so perfidiously utilised to destroy the good understanding they were intended to promote.
"'You know my feelings?' so Mr. Kinglake begins the story, in his vivacious and charming but slightly unjustThe Invasion of the Crimea, 'you know my feelings,' said the Emperor to Sir Henry Seymour, 'with regard to England. What I have told you before, I say again; it was intended that the two countries should be upon terms of close amity; and I feel sure that this will continue to be the case; and I repeat that it is very essential that the two Governments should be on the best of terms, and the necessity was never greater than at present. When we are agreed, I am quite without anxiety as to the rest of Europe. It is immaterial what the others may think or do.'"
This is what the Emperor Nicholas always said, and it was with him a fixed idea. "I desire to speak to you," he said on another occasion, "as a friend and as a gentleman. [The Emperor little knew how the confidence he placed in the "gentleman" would be requited.] If England and I arrive at an understanding in this matter it is indifferent what others do or think."
In 1846, during his visit to London, the Emperor expressed a wish that, while he would do all in his power to keep the "Sick Man" (Turkey) alive, we should keep the possible and eventual case of a collapse honestly and reasonably before our eyes. This is not the only reason why the memory of the Emperor Nicholas I is ever grateful to those who labour for the Anglo-Russian Alliance. Nor is it the only one why I recall these suggestive passages just now. Some people invoke the prejudice of the past to poison the friendship of the future. Let me take a more grateful course of recalling the repeated attempts of Russia to arrive at a good understanding with England. There is a continuity about Russian policy, and the principles laid down by the grandfather are followed by the grandson.
It is important to remember that in the last century, Austria and England, the friends of the Porte, have taken more Turkish territory for themselves than we, her hereditary foes.
Let us remember the following facts: The Emperor Nicholas I decided to concede to England all she wanted concerning Egypt; and in return, so far from stipulating for the possession, at that time, of Constantinople, he offered to make an engagement not to establish himself there as possessor, not even if circumstances compelled him to undertake a temporary occupation of the city. What then was the Emperor's proposal? It was that of a friendly understanding, "as between gentlemen," that certain things should not be done in case of a sudden collapse of the Ottoman Empire.
Such were the earnest wishes of Russia, butEngland remained deaf and prejudiced, suspicious and hostile. She preferred a bloody struggle to a hearty alliance, and a tremendous war was fought—thousands of innocent people killed, millions of money spent on both sides—and with no actual result. Does anything remain of the famous Treaty of Paris? I remember having once asked Prince Gortschakoff whether it was he or Count Nesselrode who signed that treaty. The Chancellor was ill, and thought he could not leave his chair, but my question electrified him.
"No," he exclaimed, forgetting his illness and jumping to his feet, "I did not put my name to that document, but I spent a good part of my life in tearing it to pieces. And it is torn to pieces," he repeated, with a vivid, delighted look.
In order to be on good terms with Russia, England has merely not to interfere in Russia's dealings with the Slavs, her co-religionists; not demoralise the latter, not to support elements opposed to our Church and our nationality. In fact, it is an easy, negative part she has to play. Instead of this, in Beaconsfield's days, she quarrelled like a nervous woman, and we acted, perhaps, like another nervous woman. Now, however, is the day of strong men, both English and Russian.
Nicholas I saw that it is of vital importance for the Slavs, who are no traitors to their country, to cling to Russia, because she is the only Power that cares for their Church and their nationality. The Slavs incorporated with Germany have been thoroughly Germanised. Austria is not so clever as her master, but she successfully introduces theRoman Catholic propaganda among the Slavs; imprisons men like Father Naoumovitch for his devotion to the Eastern Church, and morally does almost more harm to the poor young nationalities than does Turkey.
I remember when I was quite a child, a young Southern Slav came to my mother and began complaining of their position. My mother interrupted him by asking, "Would you prefer to belong to Austria?" Though a child, I was horrified to see the despair of his face. "Oh," cried he, "Austria is even worse than Turkey. Turkey kills the body—Austria kills the soul." This is an opinion which, it may be said, is generally held amongst the Southern Slavs—and terribly verified in Bulgaria at the present moment (1916).
It is difficult for outsiders to judge Slavonic troubles and Slavonic needs. It is a private family affair, which ought to be left to us to settle. The Slavs awoke England's sympathies only when it was thought they were the enemies of Russia. Alas! They had their pet name in England, and it was not complimentary.
Is it rational, I ventured to ask in the year 1886, to awaken general indignation in a country like Russia, which could be so useful as an ally? We have common enemies in Asia. Fancy the power represented by two great Christian countries like Russia and England, when they are united and friendly! Is it really not worth having? Time has given me my answer.
People have been so kind as to say that I have been mainly responsible for the bringing togetherof England and Russia, but whatever I have done I have merely been carrying on the ideal of the Emperor Nicholas I.
Kinglake wrote: "The Emperor Nicholas had laid down for himself a rule which was always to guide his conduct upon the Eastern Question; and it seems to be certain that at this time (the eve of the Turkish war of 1853), even in his most angry moments, he intended to cling to his resolve. What he had determined was that no temptation should draw him into hostile conflict with England."[1]
[1]The Invasion of the Crimea. Sixth edition.
It must be borne in mind that this is the testimony of an Englishman, and one who cannot be accused of being pro-Russian.
It is interesting to recall the words addressed by the Emperor Nicholas I to the English Ambassador at Petrograd in 1853. The Emperor then said:
"The affairs of Turkey are in a very disorganised condition; the country itself seems to be falling to pieces; the fall will be a great misfortune, and it is very important that England and Russia should come to a perfectly good understanding upon these affairs. We have on our hands a Sick Man, a very Sick Man. It will be, I tell you frankly, a great misfortune if one of these days he should slip away from us, especially before all necessary arrangements are made. If the Turkish Empire falls, it falls to rise no more; and I put it you, therefore, whether it is not better to be provided beforehand for a contingency, than to incur the chaos, confusion, and the certainty of an European war, all of which must attend thecatastrophe if it should occur unexpectedly and before some ulterior system has been sketched."
The Sick Man certainly has taken longer in dying than the Emperor thought, but he certainly seems to be well on the way now.
Nicholas I was a statesman, one who has been described as bearing "the stamp of a generous and chivalrous nature."
Bismarck himself, in 1849, expressed his admiration of the Emperor's conduct in regard to Hungary. He was always essentially upright and straightforward, and was in every sense of the term a strong man.
Writing of Bismarck reminds me of a story I have heard which I do not remember to have seen in print.
One of Bismarck's most violent opponents thought to damage the Chancellor's position by re-reading one of his own speeches made some years previously. In a loud determined voice the deputy read Bismarck's words before the Reichstag, no one listening to him with more attention than Bismarck himself. When at last the deputy concluded, confident of his own triumph, Bismarck exclaimed: "I should hardly have expected to hear such a prudent, useful speech, and some twenty years ago nothing could have been more appropriate. At this moment, of course, it is quite out of date and could not be acted upon."
"A Russian Agent"—"To Lure British Statesmen"—A Charming Tribute—The Press at Sea—Wild Stories—A Musical Political Agitator—"An Unofficial Ambassador"—Baron de Staal's Indifference—Prince Lobanoff's Kindness—Count Shouvaloff's Dislike of My Work—Prince Gortschakoff and the Slavs—Baron Brunow and the French Ambassador—English Sportsmanship—A Shakespeare Banquet
How people talked about me in those days! asking each other who and what I was, what I was doing, or intended doing. "Oh! Madame Novikoff," said some, "she is a Russian agent," and their significant nods and glances conveyed all sorts of terrible things. I had come to England, some thought, to lure British statesmen to betray their country into Russian hands. In short, quite a number of amiable things were said about poor, simple me, who tried so hard to say exactly the truth about what I well knew.
In later years, Sir Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett at a public meeting paid a tribute to my work which I quote, not from vanity, but as an unexpected exaggeration. Sir Ellis said, "As for Madame Novikoff, it is simply impossible to estimate the services she has rendered her country. Not all the diplomatic corps of the Empire and all the Grand Dukes have done as much for Russia as that lady,who since 1877 has directed the Russian campaign in England with consummate ability. She has been worth more to Russia than an army of 100,000 men. Nothing that the Tsar could bestow upon her could adequately repay her peerless services."
But there was the other side of the picture. The London correspondent of a provincial paper described me as "one of the most masculine and accomplished women of her time—she has come to be looked upon as the Czar's agent, as a sort of unofficial Ambassador." Imagine my being described as "masculine," a thing I execrate in women. I became too accustomed to the term "unofficial ambassador" to take any notice of it, but "masculine!" Ugh!
Then, said another paper, "Think of the women who have achieved a reputation in diplomacy—such women as Madame de Novikoff, Princess Lise Troubetskoi, Madame Nubar Pasha, Princess Metternich, and the late Princess Leopold Croy. What other characteristic is common to them all? Only this, that one and all they have been inveterate consumers of cigarettes, and each has availed herself with signal advantage of the opportunity afforded by toying with a fragrant papiletto to reflect before speaking, which women, as a rule, are said not always to do."
ST. OLGA'S SCHOOL FOR GIRL TEACHERS AT NOVO-ALEXANDROFKAST. OLGA'S SCHOOL FOR GIRL TEACHERS AT NOVO-ALEXANDROFKA
Alas for the common characteristic! I have never smoked in my life. But then I may be one of the women who do not "reflect before speaking." Smoking is not so common a habit of Russian ladies as is generally supposed. Indeed, Petrograd society was a little surprised some years ago when a British Ambassadress, with kind intent, arranged at theEmbassy a smoking-room for ladies. Even amongst men, smoking was not universal. My husband was not a smoker, nor was either of my two brothers. Several Russian gentlemen whom I know in London do not smoke.
On another occasion the Press informed me that I had selected America as my future home. "Her mission," one paper grandly announced, "on behalf of Russia has not of course been very popular.... What she has to do for Russia in America the Yankees will doubtless find out; at any rate she is backed by the Russian fleet, which will soon be, if it is not already, in American waters." I need not say that this was pure imagination. The idea of a "secret agent" being "backed" by a fleet is, I think, new in international methods.
I detest the word "mission" as applied to my work, which was as much in the interests of England as of Russia, as can easily be seen to-day. Where would Europe be now if it were not for the Russian armies, and where would the Russian armies be but for the English Navy? A woman with a mission is as objectionable as a man with a grievance.
One provincial newspaper, in a burst of confidence, assured its readers that Madame Novikoff "does not suggest the political agitator, she is very fond of music, and some distinguished artist is generally to be found at her piano." I have often wondered what "a political agitator" would appear like to the writer of this paragraph, and why should he not be musical?
Was anything ever so bewildering? When I look over my press-cutting books I cannot do sowithout a smile. Now it is all so amusing; but then it had in it an element of tragedy, for my work was nearer to my heart than anything else.The Pall Mall Gazette, for instance, remarked that "Mr. Gladstone praises Madame Novikoff for her remarkable ability in handling political controversy. Some of us think it would be more correct to do homage to her remarkable ability in handling political men." This was a tribute to me, in a way, at poor Mr. Gladstone's expense.
Another industrious young man wrote in 1889, apropos my return to London, that my "Thursdays" would be "again the rendezvous of the light, learning, and wit of London society. At least, this is how the friends of the Russian lady describe her parties. But her detractors and enemies say they are merely a clever trap for attracting people from whom she may obtain information to dispatch to Russia. A curious thing is that Baron and Baroness de Staal, the Russian Ambassador and his wife, are often to be seen there, so that the legitimate and the illegitimate purveyors of news to Russia meet on common ground."
It is quite easy to see which view of my poor "Thursdays" was taken by the writer of the above.
Neither Baron nor Baroness de Staal were ever afraid to show me publicly their sympathy and support. Monsieur de Staal even went so far as to tell an English Cabinet Minister, who wished to verify one of my statements, that if Madame Novikoff said so, it was probably true, for she was often better informed than he of what the Russian Government was thinking of doing. "Indeed," said the oldAmbassador, "they never tell me anything until they have definitely decided on doing it."
I heard this from Mr. Stead, who had just returned from the Foreign Office, and looked somewhat bewildered by the compliment paid to me. We were both amused, since few ambassadors make such admissions.
Not less welcome than the frank admission of the Russian Ambassador was the approval of my efforts by our Minister for Foreign Affairs himself, who, unlike Count Shouvaloff, about whom I still have a word to say, recognised the usefulness of my endeavours to foster friendly feelings between Russia and England.
It was with profound satisfaction indeed that I received the following letter from Prince Lobanoff-Rostovsky:
ST. PETERSBURG,21Feb./14March, 1896.
MADAME,
I admire your courageous perseverance in dealing with messieurs les Anglais, and I am very grateful for the assistance that you render us. Accept my profound respects,
LOBANOFF.
It is such kindnesses which, in supporting and encouraging my efforts, have bribed me hitherto, and shall not fail to bribe me in the future.
Sometimes my own people showed themselves anything but understanding and sympathetic. As my thoughts wander through the pages of memory, many shadows from the past arise before me, and Ithink of how much good, and also how much harm, can be done by a man in a great public position. There are indeed many things in life that one must try to forget and forgive.
I confess that, unfortunately, my ardent aspirations did not, in every case, meet with sympathy, even amongst my own relatives.
I fully appreciated, for instance, the talents and honourable qualities of my brother-in-law, E. Novikoff, and much admired his excellent and exhaustive work on John Huss, the Czech reformer and writer, who preceded Luther by a whole century. This book, by the way, is now unfortunately out of print. But while I always remained a staunch Slavophil, E. Novikoff, after his appointment as Ambassador to Vienna, was obliged in his official capacity to obey the orders of the Foreign Office, and in so doing yielded so far to Austrian views as to become indifferent, not to say hostile, to the Slavonic cause. To me, personally, he invariably showed friendship, and invited me for a whole year to the Russian Embassy at Vienna, a visit which I greatly enjoyed. But I always avoided all reference to the subjects that henceforth divided us.
This was also the case in my relations with Count Shouvaloff, at one time our Russian Ambassador in London, who instead of helping me, constantly did me harm. He was polite and ceremonious in paying me visits, but he hated my work. I am surprised indeed that he did not succeed in paralysing my efforts altogether. It is useful sometimes to be tough and obstinate!
In the light of this fact there was somethingalmost comical in the comment of one journal which said:
"Madame Novikoff is a Russian agent in close relations with Count Shouvaloff, and she is the sister of General Kiréeff and sister-in-law of the Russian Ambassador at Vienna. This is the person with whom our ex-premier was admittedly in close alliance, public and private, during the recent atrocity agitation. But when the climax of the pro-Russian agitation was reached, and its managers believed the overthrow of Lord Beaconsfield to be imminent, Mr. Gladstone, at the close of the St. James's Hall 'Conference,' left his seat, went up to Madame Novikoff, offered her his arm, and led her triumphantly through the bewildered crowd, in order to give them an earnest of the anti-Turkish alliance at last concluded between England and Russia, and thereby publicly acknowledged that his relations with that lady belong to the province of public life, and ought to be treated as matters of public concern. That also, we have no doubt, will be the opinion of the country when the nature of these relations has been more explicitly revealed."
There was one man who occupied a powerful position in Russia and, as I have said, was well known in the world, and who boasted that though he never signed the Paris Treaty, he did all in his power to abolish the consequences of that detestable document. I mean the Chancellor of Russia, the Prince Gortschakoff.
My last interview with him was not altogether pleasant: with one hand he gave "his praise," with the other "his blame." (His right hand really didnot know what his left was doing!) But here are a few facts, now known in Russia, but unknown in England.
I think I have said that for several years I carefully concealed my literary identity. In Russia it was known to Katkoff, the editor of theMoscow Gazette, in England chiefly to Stead, my English editor, and to Mr. Gladstone, who was my energetic political confidant. For that purpose I used my maiden initials "O.K." (Olga Kiréeff).
On my return home from England I received a note from the Chancellor asking me to call on him "as he was too ill to make calls."
By the by, I must say that in Russia it is quite customary, even for a very young woman, to call on business, either at a Cabinet Minister's Office or on an Ambassador at his Embassy.
In both cases the Office and the Embassy take the place of the absent wives, and such visits are fully understood. Still, people make some jokes about wives being thus replaced. But let me return to my unpleasant interview. The Prince received me, as usual, very cordially, flattering and complimenting me, but after which he said: "But, dear Madame Novikoff, I must insist upon one point and draw your serious attention to something very important. You really must not mention the word 'Slav.' Europe hates that word, and Russia must ignore it."
"But Russians are Slavs, every schoolboy must know that," I exclaimed.
"Of course, of course," admitted the old Chancellor, "but Europe hates that word. It is the red rag thrown to an infuriated bull," etc. etc.
If I indulged in fainting fits I really think that such friendly advice would have made me sink to the floor, but that is not in my line. Still, I protested.
"But, Prince," said I, "you forget that my brother died for the Slavs, that I, in memory of that death, am working for that Cause, that Mr. Gladstone, in his review of my book,Russia and England, distinctly recommended every Englishman to read it, and that he himself wrote a pamphlet on the Bulgarian horrors. Your advice to a Russian, who naturally is a Slav, means—give up your nationality, forget it. No, that I cannot do, for that would be suicide."
I think my vehement indignation amused the old Chancellor, and he said: "Well, well, but do you know that people actually think that you are my agent?"
"It only shows," I said, "how important people's opinions sometimes are. Let them know that I am my own agent and nobody else's." He smiled, I smiled, and we parted—never to meet again.
Of course, we must remember that officials come and go and have to execute orders, which sometimes vary and contradict each other. But you can obstinately, perseveringly, year after year and day after day—work, in accordance with your patriotic duty, only when you are guided by your own deep, independent conviction and ideal!
Why did the Emperor Nicholas save Austria in 1849; alienating himself from the brave Hungarian people, who during a whole century heroically fought to liberate themselves from Austrian despotism?
There is a story about another of our diplomatists, Baron Brunow, which although it has been told before, is so characteristic of Brunow that it will, I think, bear re-telling.
On arriving in London for the first time I was pleased to receive an invitation to the Russian Embassy, because Baron Brunow knew my mother personally, and also because I had heard the following anecdote about him which had greatly amused me: Queen Victoria, deeply grieved by the death of the Duke of Wellington, had expressed her wish that the funeral of the "Iron Duke," as he was called, should be as splendid as possible. The whole of the Corps Diplomatique was requested to attend the ceremony. All the diplomatists unhesitatingly accepted the royal invitation—with one exception, that of the French Ambassador. The latter, in a state of great perplexity and indecision, hurried to the Doyen of "the diplomatic" world, Baron Brunow.
"I am in a very disagreeable position," he said, "I am indeed quite at a loss what to do. How shall I escape from my dilemma? Of course, one does not like to disobey Her Majesty's wishes—almost her orders; but one must nevertheless consider before all else one's duty to one's country, one's national dignity!"
Unlike a Frenchman, the visitor seemed particularly agitated and nervous.
"But what is the matter?" exclaimed the Baron. "I have received no communication about your difficulty. None of my secretaries has informed me of anything unusual. What is the matter?" repeated the old Baron somewhat impatiently.
"Don't you understand?" exclaimed the other. "The Queen desires every diplomatist to attend Wellington's funeral. From her point of view she is quite right. But I, as a Frenchman, can never forget the terrible harm done by the Duke to the country I represent."
"Oh!" exclaimed the Russian in smiling surprise. "You dislike the idea of attending the State funeral? I confess that I also hardly like the idea of the fatigue it involves. But then, you are much younger and stronger than I. Of course, if you were asked to attend Wellington's resurrection, perhaps I should say 'don't go'—but his funeral, which represents the end of all possible mischief to your country, I can only say, 'Go and attend it by all means with great satisfaction!'"
I have never been able to find out from the various books I have consulted relating to those times, whether or not the Frenchman followed Brunow's advice!
Although I have never hesitated to speak my mind, English people—individually that is—have always seemed to understand me, and my sincerity has never been allowed either to interfere with my personal friendships, or hinder societies and committees paying the compliment of asking me to their gatherings. In England they love a fighter, provided he fight fair, and I think I have always done that. Imagine Germany, for instance, paying tributes to the commander of an English _Emden_, which had [done enormous damage to her shipping! Yet in England almost as much praise was bestowed upon this German naval officer as in the Fatherland.Why was this? Because he had played the game!
I have received many and unexpected invitations to be present at public dinners and banquets. When I received a "card" from the Committee of the Shakespeare Society for their banquet, I could not help wondering how anyone could find something new to say on a subject so well-worn during the last 300 years! Imagine, then, my astonishment, my horror, when I found on the programme my own name with the announcement that I was responding to the toast addressed to foreign guests. My first impulse was to fly; but such cowardice not being in my nature, I took my courage in my hands, and at the given moment pronounced these few words, as if it were quite a natural thing for me to make speeches:
"Kind audience,--I am flattered by your amiable invitation, to which, as a foreigner, I have hardly any right. But let me tell you that I have a little friend who renders me invaluable services. I mean my little watch bracelet, that makes me think of time and space. I shall not trouble you for more than five or six minutes; for though I feel myself to be a veritable Demosthenes, I resemble him only as he was before his famous pebble cure! You know that at the time he hesitated, stammered, and stuttered. Therefore, five minutes of eloquence on these conditions is all I dare inflict on your patience.
"I will begin by saying that one of the best translations of your great writer was made by the Grand Duke Constantine, who died a few months ago. This charming Grand Duke had, in addition,a considerable histrionic talent, and his 'Hamlet' represented by himself at the Palace of Their Majesties in Petrograd, achieved an immense success.
"But there is still something else that I shall take the liberty to say about Shakespeare. In our day there is much talk of enemies, alliances, friendly treaties, etc. Nothing can be more apropos at this moment. But Shakespeare has done something that surpasses all ententes, alliances, and treaties between countries large and small. Shakespeare has become the eternal link by which all parts of the civilised, thinking, reading world are indissolubly united. This is a unique part created by an Englishman.
"As a last word. I can only say, ladies and gentlemen, you have every reason to be proud of this acknowledged fact."
Upon this I bowed and resumed my place. My little speech was received most kindly. There could not have been a better reward for my laconism.
The Jews and the War—Their Attitude in 1876—Their Hatred of Slavism—The Problems of Other Countries—English Sympathy—The Guildhall Meeting—The Russian Government Blamed—Tolstoy and the Jews—My Jewish Friends—A Curious Tradition—Self-Protection
In many respects the Jewish Question in Russia has now become an anachronism. I am happy to say that a new argument in favour of the Jews is the part played by many of them in our ranks during the present struggle against the Central Empires. Their present attitude has effaced the great hatred they used to manifest against everything Russian. But a survey of my work for Anglo-Russian friendship would be incomplete and would not be honest if it passed over my attitude on this question, and especially as the attacks made upon me have been very vigorous and have forced me to retort in what was, for me, an almost single-handed struggle.
My first public expression of views upon the Jewish Question was in 1882, when I addressed two letters toThe Timesin which I protested against the accusations levelled against the Russian Government that it encouraged the social war against the Jews in the southern provinces. I pointed out thatthe origin of the disturbances was economic rather than religious. I said then, as I shall always say, that the worst charges brought against the Jews could not by any form of special pleading be held to justify outrage and murder. I reminded the Jews that when thousands of harmless peasants, men, women and children, were being ruthlessly slaughtered in Bulgaria, they ranged themselves beside those responsible for the massacres, the Turks. The next worst thing to committing a murder is to look calmly on and sympathise with another who is taking life. That is what the Hebrews did in 1876. At least they should be logical, and if they do not like the application of "the Law," which demands "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," they should have acted differently in 1876.
When Mr. Gladstone and his friends were fighting what seemed to be a losing battle, the Jews were against them. It was a Jew, Disraeli, who was the arch-plotter against the freeing of Bulgaria, and with a few exceptions his race was with him. The Jews hated Slavism, and the Slavs could not be expected to retort with soft words of brotherly love. In spite of this, I repeat that the peasant riots against the Jews in some provinces deserved blame; but the actions of mobs are never based upon religious principles or religious teaching.
In England, Russia's Jewish problem is not understood. I wrote in 1882, and the same applies now: "It may be wrong to dislike the Jews, but if two and a half million Chinese were monopolising all the best things in Southern England, and were multiplying even more rapidly than the natives ofthe soil, perhaps the cry 'England for the English' would not be so unpopular as some of our censors seem to think."
The feeling against the Japanese in certain parts of America is, I believe, every whit as bitter as the feeling against the Jews in Russia. I have always been puzzled why the Englishman cannot see this. The Jew is the Cuckoo of Russia; he is forcing the aborigines out of their own nest, and Russians not unnaturally say: "Our own Government helps him to do it, therefore it is time we helped ourselves."
People are prone to hasty judgment.
InThe Times, on the occasion to which I have referred above, I wrote:
"The Landlordism of which your Irish farmers complain is but a pale shadow of the cruel servitude enforced on our peasants by the Jews. The disorders both in Ukraine and in Ireland are social and agrarian."
Eight years later the Jewish Question in Russia once more seemed to catch hold of the English imagination, and with increased violence.
A flaming up of Russian violence against the Jews in the south-western provinces of Russia was the cause. In London Christian sympathy was invoked, and the heads of the Church, nobility and members of Parliament besought the Lord Mayor to convene a meeting of protest with the object of preparing a Memorial to be sent to the Tsar "to give public expression of opinion respecting the renewed persecutions to which millions of the Jewish race are subjected in Russia, under the yoke of severe and exceptional edicts and disabilities."
I immediately wrote toThe Timespointing out that before Englishmen began to look abroad for things to reform, they might well put their own house in order. I called attention to General Booth's recently published book,In Darkest England, which I had read with something akin to horror. I wonder what would have been said in England if meetings of protest against the Horrors of London had been held in Petrograd!
In my indignation I even ventured to assume the mantle of prophecy. "While your meeting," I wrote, "will have no effect whatever upon Russians, it will have a great effect upon the Jews of Russia. It will proclaim aloud, in the hearing of these millions, that England and its great Lord Mayor, with all the wealth of London at their back, have undertaken the cause of the Russian Jews. And these poor people will believe it, and thousands and tens of thousands will sell all they have and come over to experience the first fruits of the generosity which promises them a new land of Canaan—in the City of London.
"I adjourn the further discussion of the Jewish question until you have had, let us say, ten per cent of the immigration which these meetings will invite."
In a little more than the ten years I mentioned the Aliens Act had become law!
The Guildhall meeting was held on December 10th, 1890, and the Memorial to the Russian Emperor was carried without a dissentient voice and duly sent to Petrograd. In February the Russian Ambassador handed the Memorial to Lord Salisburywith a request that he would have the kindness to return it to the Lord Mayor unanswered; as a matter of fact it had not even been read in Russia.
I need scarcely add that I was assailed by Jews from every quarter as "one whom the whole Jewish race recognised as their bitterest enemy," and yet all I said in effect was that if the Montagues hate the Capulets, and the Capulets the Montagues, then all the Acts of Parliament will not ensure peace. And yet we women are called unreasonable.
I will quote again from one of my letters toThe Times, for although written thirty-four years ago, I see no reason to change so much as a word.
"The Jewish question is not entirely religious, but social. Englishmen ought to understand it, for they have to deal very often with the same difficulties. An Anglo-Indian member of Parliament, of great eminence as an administrator in Bengal, was kind enough to lend me the other day an interesting Blue Book on the riots in the Deccan, from which I learn that the most innocent agriculturists in India have repeatedly attacked the Hindoo money-lenders, exactly as our peasants attacked the Jews, and for the same reason. And how did you deal with this difficulty? Not by increasing the licence, but by restricting the opportunities of the Hindoo money-lenders; and as you do it with some success, your example can be useful indeed. In short, you do as General Ignatieff proposed to do in his famous rescript which you abuse so much. Seek to remove the cause of the disorder by protecting the peasants against the extortionate practices of the village usurers."
In those days I was not lazy and wrote as well as I could; but how difficult people were to convince. They seemed unable to distinguish between a Yiddish-speaking Jew, who had been domiciled in Russia, and a true Russian, and nothing can be more insulting to a Russian than this. The Yiddish jargon is not used by men of the Russian race, who have at their command so rich, so musical, so melodious a language as that which Pouschkin, Tourguenieff, and Tolstoy found an adequate instrument for the expression of their genius.
A Yiddish-speaking man may be a Russian subject, but he is no more a real Russian on that account than a Hottentot, being a British subject, is a real Englishman. Although we Russians may be as bad as some people describe us, we have at least one virtue which is not always recognised: we do our utmost to prevent murderers, thieves, and burglars, and other criminals crossing the frontier. No Russian subject is allowed to leave Russia without a passport, which is never granted to any known criminal. If any such criminals evade our vigilance, our police are only too anxious to inform your police and solicit their co-operation in the arrest of the fugitive. But such offenders have only to allege that they are political refugees, to be welcomed in England and protected by the authorities. In England murder used to be regarded as no murder when the victim was a Russian policeman. But when the same criminals kill an English policeman, as they did in the Sydney Street affair, the matter is not seen in quite the same light.
Try to put yourself in our place. What would youthink if "Peter the Painter" had been welcomed in Petrograd, and if our Government had refused to give him up because he had only killed an English policeman, and was therefore entitled to the right of asylum as a political refugee? Of course, such a crime against civilisation is unthinkable on the part of the Russian Government, but it would represent only too faithfully the position which England has been proud to maintain before the world.
At the time of the Sydney Street outrage I asked:
"What I want to know is whether, now that you are suffering a very, very small part of the misery which these murderers have inflicted on us, you are willing to co-operate with the police of the world in extirpating this gang of ruthless murderers? If you are, you will find ready co-operation on our side; if you are not, then, I fear, the world will say that you care nothing for murder so long as it is only Russian police, generals, or ministers who are murdered, and you will remain in the future, as in the past, the refuge and the shelter of the assassins of the world."
Truth compels me to admit that there are blindfolded people in Russia as well as abroad, and it is not only amongst the foreigners that the real nature of the Russian nation has been sometimes misunderstood. Unfortunately there are prejudiced people amongst ourselves who insist upon being blind and unable to see obvious facts, and the meaning of the war of 1876 has been entirely misunderstood. Let us, for instance, quote Count Leon Tolstoy, who had very peculiar ideas about war. Can anybody, not only in Russia but even abroad, doubt histalent? But nevertheless he proved how easy it is to err in politics even in spite of literary gifts.
I must quote a letter published abroad under the pompous title,A Protest, signed by Count Leon Tolstoy and Russian "celebrities." This document had to be presented to the Emperor—for his enlightenment. This document, however, never went so far.
This event should never have been takenau sérieuxanywhere, though stated by a talented author.
Nothing amuses Russians more than to see how gravely "Tolstoy's philosophy and theology" is taken abroad. Amongst us he is only great as a novelist. You may, no doubt, find among the Russians, as well as abroad, enthusiasts ready to embrace any craze. Fortunately they have no lasting moral weight.
The Jewish question in Russia is a very difficult problem indeed. We have in Russia millions of Jews belonging to an anti-Christian creed, and those who imagine it is sufficient for our Emperor "to write a few lines ordering the country at large to love the Talmudist Jew," and who fail to see the difference between the latter and the Greek Orthodox Russian, forget that even Jesus Christ's law to love our enemy is often neglected by those who pride themselves on being His followers. I insist upon the term "Talmudist Jews." The Karaite Jews having joined Russia in the greater part of her national aims and duties, deservedly obtained the same privileges and rights as the rest of the people. The Talmudists, unfortunately, take a different ground, and sometimes have to suffer for it.
At the time of the Guildhall MeetingThe Daily News, with perfect fair play, allowed a correspondent to state the facts "within their own knowledge." One of them had shortly before visited the Russian southern provinces. Here are his very words:
"The Jewish population of Odessa alone numbers about 100,000 souls. Nearly the whole of the vast commerce is in the hands of the Jews. They own a large share of theimmovableproperty in the city. Of the very few and unimportant industries over which they do not command an absolute monopoly, there is scarcely one which is not virtually controlled by the ramifications exercisedby their secret commercial syndicates."
N.B.—The Municipal Council of 72 members always includes 24 Jews, or one-third of that civil and constituent body, and in material power the Jewish section of the Council outweighs the rest. The author also admits that "if there were no limitations at all, the Jewish elements at the university would exclude all the Russians."
The same paper, allowing also another witness to be truthful and accurate, admits the following account from Petrograd itself. After complaining bitterly of the difficulty of getting from the Jews themselves any instance of oppression, he expressed his surprise that: "In the English community, chiefly interested in commerce, sympathy with the Jews has been difficult to find. Amongst the Germans and French," he goes on to say, "the same dislike of the Jews is found."
The Anglo-Saxon race has shown to the world how careful it can be in defending its interests onthe least appearance of danger from without. The innocent children of the Celestial Empire have been simply hunted out of America and Australia, although these poor timid creatures never dreamed of establishing animperium in imperiowhich can be dangerous to the State, nor even asked for any political rights at all, their only ambition being to live in peace and to work for their rice and their rats.
The Russian Government, though not hampered by the ignorant prejudices of the masses, is obliged nevertheless to acquaint itself with public feeling, and to do its best to paralyse mischievous outbursts from whatever source. Thus in protecting the Russians from the Jews, our Government is, in fact, in accord with the parliamentary spirit of the age in its support of the protesting majority against an aggressive minority. England, of all the world, should be the last to blame those efforts.
It must not be thought that I am anti-Jewish as far as individuals are concerned. I have had very friendly relations with many Jews, including Auerbach, Mr. George Montofiore and Dr. Max Nordau, to quote only a few names. The last-named dedicated to me his playThe Right to Love, after the Guildhall fiasco. Perhaps the most curious thing was that whereas I was attacked by Jews and vilified without mercy, my friends in Russia were angry with my "judophilism."
Just before last leaving for Russia, I was startled by the contents of a letter which appeared in London. The Jewish author of that curious document is fortunately personally unknown to me. He actually has the impudence to say that "in Russia a foreigner ofthe Hebrew persuasion can easily find means and ways—generally for the sum of fifty roubles—to be transformedad hocinto a true believer, into a Christian of any denomination of his own choice." To me that phrase is a regular riddle. Thank God! I do not know people who for fifty roubles, or no matter for how many roubles, may change their political or even religious creed. Being a convinced Christian myself, I can only be glad when I hear of somebody who has appreciated the Greek orthodox views enough to adopt them. Our Church prays daily for such unions, and I cannot understand why I should doubt the good faith of such proselytes. Has not Jesus Christ Himself ordered to propagate His teaching, and counselled us to love our enemies? I do not see why we should wound their feelings by doubting their good faith. A Hebrew or a Mohammedan, after the establishment of a new moral link with us Christians, ought to be treated as a brother and an ally.
Even without that Christian union a very great gulf exists in Russia between the "Talmudist Jews" and the "Karaims" (in England called "Karaites"). The latter are treated with confidence and respect, and their dealings are characterised by integrity and love for Russia—two qualities which are not by any means the predominant characteristics of the Talmudists. All this can be easily proved. A curious tradition seems, in the eyes of some Russians, to account for that great difference between people of the same race. The ancestors of the "Karaims" are said to have left the Holy Land much before the beginning of our era, escaping thus the blame ofhaving taken any part in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ—hence their moral superiority!
In protecting our country from obnoxious proselytism—be it religious or political—we defend in reality that great unity; which naturally has to be in accordance with our Church. But our Church, as such, does not interfere with the temporal power. Her only weapon is the exclusion from her bosom of those who depart from her teaching and her practice.
My Russian Home—The Horrors of Famine—The Peasants' Heroism—Starving yet Patient—The Society of Friends—I am Invited to Meeting—Magnificent Munificence—Among the Starving—Terrible Hardships—Some Illustrations—The Stoical Russian—Cinder Bread
The Tamboff Steppes have a great fascination for me. I was always very happy at Novo Alexandrofka, our country home. It possesses the beautiful church built by my son. Then I have there my two other attractions, the two splendid schools, each capable of accommodating over one hundred pupils, that for boys being called St. John's, after my husband's patron saint; and the girls' school, of which I am directress, is called St. Olga's. My son and I were always ardent believers in the importance of education, for in it lies the whole of the world. Good teachers are necessary above all, and bad schools do more harm by their existence than no schools at all, and there is nothing more wonderful or beautiful in Russia than to see the passionate eagerness of the peasants to have their children educated. I am happy to say that, thanks to our excellent teachers and the principal director, a very superior priest of our church, all our examinations have resulted in very fruitful success.
At Novo Alexandrofka, my husband, my mother, my brother, Alexander Kiréeff, my son (the founder of the church) Alexander Novikoff—are already in the family vault. The last addition will be myself, and then the vault shall be definitely closed.
Some ten years ago when I was present at the final examination of the girls, no less than nineteen fulfilled the requirements of the Tamboff Education Committee, and were all qualified to become school-teachers. Since then we have had only excellent results of our schools.
The most unhappy time I ever spent at my home was during the terrible famine in Russia in 1892. I could not remain in England while my country was suffering so. I felt that my place was at Tamboff, and I accordingly left a land of plenty for poor, desolate Russia. I remember only too vividly those terrible days of famine. At one time my son Alexander had under his charge no less than 33,000 men, women and children, all depending upon him to find them food.
I call to mind one terrible day that brought from Alexander this tragic telegram: "Funds exhausted, send me something, position indescribable." It was terrible, tragic.
All the work done by the Relief Committees was voluntary. The Grand Duchess Constantine fed 2000 people a day.
Even in those days we strove to guard against reckless charitable effort, which can only have a demoralising influence. I call to mind one person who insisted on his name being unknown, offered my son 1000 roubles to be spent in providing foodfor the inhabitants of a certain village on the condition that the amount were regarded only as a loan, which should be repaid and subsequently spent on that same village for educational purposes. This donor was doubly a donor by the proviso he made.
It was a tragedy to see splendid men in the prime of their lives, walking about with stony faces and hollow eyes. With them were women clothed only in wretched rags, and little children shivering in the cold wind. They would crowd round the relief parties, which drove about in sledges, holding out their hands saying:
"We have sold our last horses, cows and sheep, we have pawned all our winter clothing; we have nothing left to sell. We eat but once a day, stewed cabbage and stewed pumpkin, and many of us have not eaten that."
This was true. There were some among them who had not tasted food for days. It was agonising to hear these poor people pleading to us for mercy lest they die of starvation. As they spoke in dull voices, tears would spring up into the eyes of strong men and course slowly down their cheeks into their rough beards; but there were no complaints, no cries, just the slow, monotonous chant, broken by the sobs of worn-out mothers and the cries of hungry children.
We had neither wood nor coal, only straw and the refuse of stables, for fuel. The Volga was frozen, and in some provinces corn was absolutely unprocurable.
MY SON. ALEXANDER NOVIKOFFMY SON. ALEXANDER NOVIKOFF
In that great calamity the help given by the English Society of Friends was very remarkable.After some preliminary enquiry, I was invited to attend a Committee Meeting. There were, I think, between twenty and thirty present, and I was the only woman. A series of questions was addressed to me about the state of things in Russia. I exaggerated nothing. I concealed nothing. I told them that an unforeseen blow had befallen sixteen of our provinces and found us unprepared to combat its effects. My son, Alexander Novikoff, was just organising a committee in the district of Kazloff (Tamboff province), and, thanks to him, I knew the question fairly well. "The Friends" listened attentively, but said very little. Mr. Braithwaite, the chairman, only expressed a hope that "God will help our efforts." Nothing more: but without losing a day they went to work, and worked splendidly. They not only collected about £40,000, but sent their delegates—Mr. Edmond Brookes and Mr. William Fox—to distribute their help on the spot amongst the famine-stricken peasantry.
Do you know one of the results of such practical application of sympathy?
It is now generally admitted in my country that unofficial Englishmen are "kind and generous," and, when left to their own true nature, are capable of being friends deserving trust and confidence.
I also received, quite unsolicited, liberal subscriptions from friends in the City, which enabled me to send without delay much needed relief to the starving peasants in my district of Tamboff. The "English bread," as they called it, is remembered and spoken of even now.
Perhaps the best description of that terriblefamine, and of the efforts to relieve it, is that recorded in an interview with me by the representative ofThe Week's News, which I therefore transcribe, the more so because that enterprising journal sent out a special Commission to our famine districts to report upon the situation there. Here is the interview:
"NOVO ALEXANDROFKA,"12th February, 1892.
"A beautiful night drive across the snow from Bogojawlensky brought me to Madame Olga Novikoff's estate during Wednesday night. The thermometer stood at 36 degs. Fahrenheit below freezing point, yet the air was so calm that the cold was scarcely noticeable. A heavy hoar frost covered the trees, and the slight mist gave a weird aspect to the desert of snow that stretched away on every side. Without a house on the horizon to direct him, thejamschickdrove out into the night, and the sledge glided along over the crackling snow.
"Mr. Alexander Novikoff, the son of Madame Olga Novikoff, was at Novo Alexandrofka to welcome me, and put me in a position to judge of the state of things in his district of the Tambov Government. He is Zemski Natchalnick, and very popular amongst the peasants whose little differences he has to judge.
"In the early morning we started off to visit the hospital in the village of Tooriévo. After all that has been said of the condition of Russian hospitals at this moment I was agreeably surprised, both at the cleanliness and the absence of patients whoseillnesses might be directly attributed to the famine. I, however, found there the first case of hunger typhus that I have seen, and learned from the surgeon, Dr. Malof, that in one village close at hand there were no fewer than 150 similar cases.
"This is one of the strongest proofs of the hardships through which the people are now passing. It is the disease that always follows in the wake of war and famine, and although the mortality amongst those seized is relatively small, the fact that numerous cases are occurring is significant. They arise from stomach disorders, brought on by insufficient and bad food, and the disease then takes the course of ordinary typhus.
"Tooriévo is a long straggling village, and contains about 1000 huts. The harvest in the neighbourhood was fairly good, and the population will probably weather the storm. Another large village in the district, Céslavino, with its 7000 inhabitants, is suffering intensely, the majority of the inhabitants being in receipt of relief. I found a particularly bad state of things in the village of Spasskoe. Amongst the 1500 inhabitants there were but three huts in which there was sufficient corn to keep the occupants till the next harvest. Most of the families are already receiving help from the Government, and the private committee presided over by M. Novikoff.
"I will mention but few cases in this village where the monotony of misery is so apparent in the deserted street and the dilapidated huts. This is the only village I have visited in this neighbourhood where the uniformity of distress compareswith the village in the south of Tambov that I described last week.
"Paul Axenoff is the head of a family of nine, comprised of two old people, Axenoff and his wife, and five children. They were receiving aid from both the authorities and the committee, but they had run through everything except three pounds of bread that was to last them for some weeks to come. The same thing happened to them last month, and in spite of all their efforts to secure food they ate nothing for three days prior to the last delivery of the month's flour.
"The horse and cow have both been sold, and the outhouses pulled down and used for fuel. Straw is usually employed in Russia for heating, but this year there is none, so the peasants are glad to find anything to burn. There is very little wood in this part of the country, and what there is is young, and has evidently been planted by the landowners. With the exception of a sheepskin cloak worn by one of the boys who came in from school while I was in the hut, the members of Axenoff's family had nothing to wear but the rags in which they stood.
"In this hut I discovered a fresh article of food—a soup made of hot water and weeds. They didn't eat it for the good it might do them, but simply for the sake of having something hot. At another hut in this village I found a similar concoction made with boiling water and chopped-up hay.
"All the bread I found in the next hovel was broken, and had been begged from house to house. The occupants had burnt the wood, straw, and outhouses they had at the beginning of the winter, andwere now pulling the straw from the roof over their heads to keep the hut warm.
"Although this was a new-fashioned hut, that is, one with a chimney, the occupants had stopped this up to prevent the fire burning too quickly, and to keep the heat in. This caused the suffocating smoke and tar-like odour that is found in the chimneyless huts.
"On leaving this place we struggled through the snow to visit another house from which the roof had been torn, and which was almost embedded in the quantity of snow that the gale of the previous night had whirled round it. The mayor of the village, who accompanied me, told me that the family of five persons included a dying woman, and two children down with scarlatina.
"With some difficulty we struggled through the four or five feet of snow that barricaded the door, and on getting it open we found the outer part of the hut half filled with snow that had been driven through the unthatched roof. We had some trouble to open the door leading to the inner room, and when this was done the mayor seemed surprised to find that the place was tenantless.
"He enquired amongst the neighbours what had become of Nicolas Semine and his dying wife. Nobody knew, and all were lost in surmise as to what might have happened had they been driven forth by the storm of the previous night. We continued the tour, and half an hour later I came upon a scene the like of which I hope never to see again.
"Eight or ten persons were crowded into a hovelnot more than ten feet square. An unconscious woman had been leaned against the brick stove to keep her warm in the stifling atmosphere. On the ground several dirty and ragged children were playing around two suffering creatures, whose arms and faces were masses of sores. I had already taken in these details when my guide told me this was Semine's dying wife and scarlatina-stricken children, that a man he pointed out was Semine himself, and that the ten-year-old boy lying on the stove was his eldest child.
"I was not able to understand how the father and this boy brought the dying, and now unconscious, woman and the two children through the storm of the previous night. I had myself had an experience of the blinding violence of clouds of snow blown across the plains by a hurricane.
"The story of the refugees is a very sad one; I will tell it just as it was told me. Between the time the harvest failed and the time the authorities commenced to aid the family, they had been obliged to sell everything they possessed to get food, and to pull down the outbuildings for firing purposes. The wife had been ill since autumn, and to keep the place warm they had been obliged to burn first the table, then the benches, then the old clothes, and last of all, to pull the straw from the roof and burn it.
"Yesterday they had nothing. No food, no firing, and the wind drove the snow through the unthatched house. To have stayed was certain death, so they wandered out into the night and were taken into the house where I saw them on condition that they consented to the four walls of their hut beingpulled down and used to heat the hovel in which they had taken refuge. They brought no food with them, and the family of four persons which has taken them in had just five pounds of bread to last till the end of February.
"In the hut occupied by Timothy Metchariakof I was shown somelebedaflour which the peasants often mix with rye or maize flour thinking that it gives nourishment to the bread. The fact that there are quantities oflebedathis winter is another sign of famine. Whenever the crops fail the weed from which the grains oflebedaare thrashed is found in abundance.
"In spite of what the peasants say about the satisfying properties of these seeds, the doctors consider the flour made from them most injurious to the health. All sorts of stomach complaints can be traced to the consumption of bread of which it is an ingredient.
"The bread was very black everywhere, but as long as this blackness resulted from the use of rye flour it was not unhealthy, and the bread although rather bitter was not uneatable. In many houses, however, the people had mixed anything that came to hand with the flour served out to them, and the bread consequently suffered.
"I tasted some this morning in which cinders or grit was undoubtedly one of the ingredients. It is also generally very badly baked, and if the authorities can improve on the official bakers I have seen, there should certainly be a public bakery in each village, as many of the sufferers have not sufficient fire in their stoves properly to cook anything.Disease will go on increasing even more rapidly than famine if this unhealthy food is eaten by the peasants.
"I visited a great many of the families in this village so as to be satisfied that I was not basing my judgment of the distress on exceptional cases. The misery I found was very widespread, and actual starvation is only avoided by the aid of the Zemstvo and M. Novikoff's committee. If these aids were stopped for a week, nine-tenths of the village would be starving.