BLEEEELEOX AYVUYEIT VINISYIA AO ALISHSAAINNLIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA FROM THE BOOKS OF CHARLES L. MINOR, M. D. CLASS OF 1888ae CPE Tey = hk WUT oe em > — OAS TDaFROM PRESIDENT TO PRISONWorks by FERDINAND OSSENDOWSKI BEASTS, MEN AND GODS “A book of astounding, breath- taking, enthralling adventure, an Odyssey whose narrator encountered more perils and marvels than did Ulysses himself.”—New York Times. MAN AND MYSTERY IN ASIA “This is the most wonderful adven- ture story of the twentieth century.” —Des Moines Mirror. THE SHADOW OF THE GLOOMY EAST “A fascinating revelation of that Russia, in which sorcery, demon wor- ship, incantations, and witchcraft are a part of every-day life.” —Boston Herald. Bb. PO DUTTON & COMPANYFROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON BY FERDINAND OSSENDOWSKI AUTHOR OF ““ Beasts, Men and Gods,” ‘Man and Mystery in Asia,” and “The Shadow of the Gloomy East” IN COLLABORATION WITH LEWIS STANTON PALEN Collaborator in ‘‘ Beasts, Men and Gods” and ““Man and Mystery in Asia” ) ANY y re oe, ey) BOWEN ye NOS C \e) Ss ‘ay iY LA ee NEW YORK EK. P; DUTTON & COMPANY 681 Firra AVENUE LLP EEL ERE ELE STO OF =m eb aiens Cpe ecegs gp Rib ma vase otic Ta fa ce pe es MIA ee Nee eee oS ceri tmanennbia te aeieinls ven jgcguechi nied ciabReni Dail seersCopyright, 1925 By E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY All rights reserved i mah yb Pe lhe He et ita aie Printed in the United States of AmericaCOLLABORATOR’S NOTE GAIN it has been my pleastire to assist Dr. Ossen- dowski in the textual preparation of a manuscript which contains material of unique appeal. In this volume he gives an account of his personal ex- periences during the Russo-Japanese War and in the Revolution of 1905, as it affected the Far East, and offers what is probably the most intimate picture of the life of the Russian prisons in Siberia and Manchuria that has ever been drawn for the western world by one who has himself lived through the regime of these in- stitutions. By the medium of these experiences he presents a strong arraignment of the Tsar and his officials for the errors they committed in the handling of their own and their subject peoples, and admits us also to a most eso- teric revelation of the psychology of prison life. In his story we have likewise a fair epitome of the whole tragic history of that great body of Poles which has been forced to find its life under the dominating overlordship of the Tsars and which has constantly struggled toward the hope of a renewed existence of freedom. Though of no direct benefit to the movement in which he participated, his imprisonment produced un- expected results in another feature of Russian life. This was in the prisons themselves. For, as he indicates in the closing chapter of his text, he wrote a romance based upon his prison experiences, which contained such stir- Vv mounts set SQE PERERA SUEY = = gotep renee repr eeteesnee Te ae RoE DAP eT se htabiedes eer ates Sree ee LY rw ¥ a eakadnaetninapiscerescieniakeSescats ayers rats Ire ete rae he hhvi COLLABORATOR’S NOTE ring material and was so strongly phrased that it at once brought down upon him the censure and renewed perse- cutions of the Russian Government. The volume was condemned and confiscated and proceedings were insti- tuted to secure his return to those very walls of which he had written so dramatically. When the first edition was burned, he had a second brought out under a slightly different title and a copy of this placed on the desk of each member of the Duma just as it went on sale. The result was that these representa- tives of the people were so stirred by his presentation of the life within the prisons that they took the matter up in the Duma and finally forced the Government’s hand to institute reforms in their administration. The prin- cipal changes which resulted were the segregation of the prisoners in such a way that only the most hardened and vicjous criminals were thrown together in the large com- mon cells; the provision of reasonable work for the in- mates; the establishment of libraries and occasional talks for the men; and the emphasizing to the officials of the necessity for seeking to ameliorate the moral state of mind of the condemned. As it was a uniquely significant result of his efforts on behalf of those unfortunate ones whom he had left behind within what he so picturesquely calls the “stone sack,” so must it have been a tribute of peculiar appeal to Dr. Ossendowski, when he received an immense address carrying the signatures of many thousands of criminal prisoners, expressing a profound appreciation of his work for them, as well as those of the two eminent writers, Leo Tolstoi and W. Korolenko. Lewis STANTON PALEN. LE BOUVERET, SWITZERLAND, June, 1925. corte mmr cent sear tenet en RET RTT Ia Pt OCE TT rere PRT POT ss eee pr: erCONTENTS COLLABORATOR’S NOTE . PART I THE GATHERING STORM CHAPTER I. II. III, IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. TX. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. THE First PETRELS RUMBLINGS AND DISASTER SUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY INTO THE FOREST 3 ; A DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS . TIGERS AND ‘‘RED-BEARDS”’ . ; ‘ THE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST THE STAINED ALTAR OF WAR STALKED AND STALKING . . COAL AND A CURSED LAKE . THE LIGHTNING IN THE CLOUDS . ParT II THE PRESIDENCY AND THE PRISON THE CRIMSON TIDE ’ ; : : : THE BIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT THE FICKLENESS OF POWER . ‘ ; ; A WINGED GEORGIAN AND His ‘‘Fiyinc Bac” AN EREMITE OF THE LAW AWAITING THE HEMLOCK GRANTED A STAY PAGE Ty 26 46 53 67 78 gt 94 2 208 “7116 125 - 134 . FSi 7 8163 , 107 - 179 sao SE NRE ELT PTE EIT TTY Ya Serpe ann: Tintouelpspaanoonss Eis odie ia a eu ST 6 ares ets ss rprireeer is! no aeVill CHAPTER XIX. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. XXIX. XXX. XXXII. XXXII. XXXII. XXXIV. CONTENTS PAGE THE SEAL OF AN IRON GRILLE 3. ks) et Seem LOO . Prison ‘Ext Dorapo” : ee ea ces | be eeeeOd . NoOWAKOWSE!’S BoMB . . ; : z A é 252 TRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS y : : : : . 216 . To THE CRIMINAL PRISONS 4 : é : ; . 228 Part III IN HUMAN DUST BEYOND THE PALE ; : : : : ; > - 1239 UNCONDEMNED PRISON COMPANIONS : ; a 27-17/ “SARYN DA NA KIECHKU”’ Se aes Gee ee PRINCES OF THE PRISON . ; : : ‘ : = 27 LovE IN Irons . : : : : ; ; : eo “Two PoLEs, A BEAM AND A DANGLING RopE—THIS THE GUERDON A ROBBER MAy Hore” .. . 299 My MoTHER. . : : ; : : : 3 =. 307 SAINTS AND PIRATES . ; , : : : ; 2 ai2 A WHIRLWIND IN THE DUST . : : : ; 2 329 OuT OF THE STONE SACK . ‘ ‘ : : é = 9330 THE FETTERS CUT ; ; ‘ : : : : - 349SECT ————— nan Part I THE GATHERING STORMOpi rn peanie? OR ap pt en Se eee a ae J ee 5 ees ey ee eeeFROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON CHAPTER 1 THE FIRST PETRELS @ across the cold stretches of Siberia toward the warming rays of the rising sun Russia for centuries pushed, like a great primitive giant, her bulwark of physical power, until finally it reached down to the very tip of a lovely forest-covered peninsula, where the tower- ing range of the Sikhota Alin came down to bathe itself in the iridescent waters of the Pacific. Just where the mountain steps out of the sea the giant built his cairn, that should apprise all men of his extended might, and called the mass of masonry and stone Vladivostok, “Ruler of Eastern Empire.” Later time softened somewhat his ways and, as his people came to do his will and live their little lives of frontier abandon and joy, they called their capital “The Pearl of the East,” a name it full deserved before man’s hand wrenched loose the covering shell of never-changing solitude. The peninsula, that it might be entered in the printed annals of the world, was designated Muravieff-Amursky, and the waters which washed its eastern and western shores took their surnames from the two great rivers of 3 See TI EE TT ey oe ite — en MME este td EM FOOTY She re : or SS oI TTP LE ec hfe eee RE : sae ; ere < Sen rae _ Per rye> i ygbctisebaret let toed Sette : 4THE FIRST PETRELS 9 rakish to fit into the lines of a native craft and looked as though they were certainly stayed with cables. “A disguised torpedo-boat?” I queried to myself, and sat me down for a careful observation of the strange craft. She was making very slow headway with two small sails clumsily rigged to her masts in a way that no real sailor would ever have set them in the open sea. My growing suspicions were suddenly confirmed, when a light flared, went out and flared again from between the bales of hay. I had no doubt that it was regular signalling that was going on, but found it to be of a rather unusual nature, as it looked as though it were done by means of a small electric flashlight. I began to scan the shore very carefully and soon made out answering signals at about a thousand paces from me. While I watched, the sun had disappeared altogether, dusk was falling and a fog came slowly rolling in from the sea. Then, peering through the gathering darkness, I saw the bales of hay and the bundles of kaoliang stalks go over- board into the water, and gradually made out the lines of the funnels, the bridge and the guns as the lights, to my surprise, began showing through the port-holes. By this time I was naturally glued to my observation post and gradually saw the smoke from the reviving fires pour- ing out of the funnels in a red glare. I had already been there some hours when I heard the dull, slow churning of the screw, followed by the splash of the oars of a small boat that put into shore not far from the steep bank where I crouched among the bushes. I caught some broken words of command, uttered in the Japanese tongue. “War!’ I thought. “The war is already upon Rus- sia!” Afterwards more than once, in wild and isolated j AREER EO it s ot-peiecriecad obliges isin Pos C Fase SRE SCL “a gtare vid ts Shape ehh Loe eee pene ey earzpyeyts Se en apa aR ee eur eT SI Ae eT BE ae ML SS Sorees ass bn BS ALN TE MAS Te Si ae “5; sting ta mens A Re ae - coh suyhy RA Theeestaat cee HANTS ee are eb oe 5 maar i se a i PI ee MEG we en a eee = Se ny as i tee Meee eee Oita a HOSSAIN if Got gh os weey ss Bib RIE agree oySs eSthy SRG LL ed See ag Late ceias hans Spa eshel stat > SLT ee Leth wht Seed CPR ee ited hs bas SPSS es bs ot er LO ee Oe he IO FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON places, I came across Japanese, Chinese and Koreans sending signals and, throughout these days, developed the very distinct feeling that this largest fortress in the Far East, and the whole place of so much strategic im- portance to Russia, were surrounded by a net of spies, and that the hostile and piercing eyes of men with yellow faces looked out from everywhere. Then in December the news that the Japanese torpedo- boats had attacked the Russian fleet, by bad strategy huddled together in the harbour at Port Arthur, quickly spread through the Russian Far East and shocked with incredulity the previously invulnerable confidence of Vladivostok. After solemn services in the churches and the publication of the manifesto of the Tsar, proclaim- ing a state of war, the populace, roused by the unex- pected attack of the Japanese, each day became more warlike. “We shall smother with our caps these yellow ras- cals!’ was the boastful cry of the streets, of the theatres and even inthe homes. Threats of unquestioned revenge were bandied about, while all occupations gave way to the one principal pastime of waiting for and devouring the news from the war area. After a period of calm, events took an unexpected turn, when the defeat of the Russian armies of the peninsula of Liaotung forced their retreat to the north and their subsequent abandonment of Port Arthur to the siege of the Japanese forces. The story of the dramatic siege and the capture by the Mikado’s storming troops of this southernmost stronghold of Russia in the Orient is well known. Its fall left the Japanese General Staff free to land its armies on the southern littoral of Manchuria without fear or interference. In the meantime another disastrous land engagement peter BN ge LOR aE ite Rie DPT ES OI EEOC zt ete Stent ty pheTHE FIRST PETREES II had taken place just opposite Wiju on the Yalu River, along the course of which Bezobrazoff and his Imperial associates had dreamed of planting a new outpost of Russian empire in the Far East. Following this unhappy battle at Wiju and Chiu Lien Ch’eng, the Russian arms sustained one disaster after the other. The unfortunately well-proven Russian negligence and lack of conscientious care in details was patently mani- fest during these initial operations of the war. Since 1900 military topographers had been working on a map of Manchuria, but, not knowing the language of the country, they fell into unpardonable errors, which later brought heavy nemesis in lives and treasure. One of their most flagrant blunders came about in this way. An officer with some soldiers would be studying a given territory and, wishing to place a village on his map, would ask one of the inhabitants for its name. “Pu tung te (I do not understand),” came the answer of the Chinese or the Manchu, both of whom spoke the Mandarin Chinese in this district. The officer would then mark on his map the village Putungte. This occurred so many times that, as a result, the Russian military map of Manchuria was covered with a net of villages and hamlets all bearing the same name of Putungte, which formed an unintelligible labyrinth from which the Russian military leaders could not dis- entangle themselves to the very end of the war; and Generals Grippenberg, Kuropatkin, Stackelberg and other lesser commanders paid a heavy price for this negligence and through this ignorance of the country contributed another step in the loss of Russian prestige before the Eastern peoples. The defeat of the Russian arms which resulted from this and similar avoidable acts of careless- ness in the preparation and execution of their military SAS PRA TARS ae ‘at \, > epee al Tar as clare phoy veazte eT jo pag ja Da rama a ok etl ze ee a gmat esis ¥ = waerr a Doane ee crate eieaa ae BS _— a coe RARE RT ee arrigeaelbuns canara! Aa TIS ae eae Seer raat ii nm ass eeeara eec a lap ay ba SOc a 12 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON plans brought about the first great downfall of the white race after the threatened militant awakening of Asia. At the beginning of the war the Commander of the fortress of Vladivostok, General Voronetz, invited a number of the town’s residents to visit the forts upon which fell the defence of the extreme eastern frontiers of the Empire from the attacks of Japan. Over the ice of the frozen Golden Horn our party was conducted to Russian Island, where the military engineers had located the strongest fortifications designed to protect the city from the side dominated by the Bay of Peter the Great and Ussuri Bay. On the side washed by Amur Bay the city was guarded by forts built between the town and the mouth of First River. The fortifications were shown us very superficially. We saw the exterior of massive walls, cement cupolas and apertures, from some of which projected guns of heavy calibre. General Voronetz and his aides made much of these forts and expressed the certainty that they would play an important part in the war. Some months later, when I was in Manchuria, I re- turned to Vladivostok on an official errand and at that time I realized clearly why the authorities had permitted only a superficial inspection of the forts. The dénoue- ment came to me through the arrival of a detachment of Japanese cruisers under command of Admiral Uriu, which approached Vladivostok from the Ussuri Bay side and with impunity dropped some shells into the Golden Horn, without being damaged or even interfered with by the Russian Island forts. Afterwards it was explained that the plans of defence were still incomplete and that the heavy pieces had not yet been placed in position. It is easy for those who lived close to the actual events of this war to realize that the Russian Government andTHE FIRST PEDRELS 13 its local military and civil authorities prepared with their own hands the immense national disaster in Manchuria and that the punition which came some years later in the guise of the Bolshevik Revolution was deservedly earned by the Government circles—a punishment that fell, how- ever, much more heavily on the nation as a whole, inno- cent as it was of the crimes of the Government. AIP eee Pewee es poe re & ET a Soael oeTre APES NUL I IS DS APIECE PP be ot ope ETE EAM, ALT ISTP ACH PEPER SR: 4 CHAPTER If RUMBLINGS AND DISASTER eee after my visit to the fortress a proposal had been made to me that I organize at Harbin a central laboratory for the military area, where I was to work not only for the Chinese Eastern and the Ussuri rail- ways, but directly for the General Staff of the army. My first and principal occupation was to be a thorough study of the supply of raw materials in the country, with the object of recommending and starting local manufactur- ing undertakings which would help to relieve the single, long line of railway from the transportation of similar products, and thus augment its powers for carrying troops and war munitions. It was palpably foolish to be transporting over from four to six thousand miles of railway these supplies and goods which could be pro- duced locally, at a time when the military exigencies de- manded an ever-increasing rail capacity for men and ma- terials. At the very outset there were important economic questions referred to me by the Headquarters Staff and by the administration of the Chinese Eastern Railway. To confirm my theoretical deductions I needed a labora- tory and, therefore, had to make a flying trip to St. Petersburg to select and secure the necessary supplies and equipment. I reached the capital just at the moment of the birth 14RUMBLINGS AND DISASTER 15 of the Revolution of 1905. As I was intimately familiar with all layers of society in this capital of the Tsars, where I had been in school and through the University, I soon had a close and accurate knowledge of what was developing. I had no doubt that a revolution was brew- ing, but a partial revolution, a restricted one, primarily initiated and activated by the liberal intelligentsia and secondarily supported by the socialistic groups, which profited by every national and political difficulty to agi- tate or to assist revolutionary movements. The war disaster had proved the criminal negligence of the Government, which only maintained itself through the support of the secret police and the sternly disciplined army with the help of which it crushed all protests against incapable Ministers and provincial governors, who had been guilty of crimes or excesses that exas- perated the people. It is possible that this revolution, even without the participation and help of the hundred million of Russia’s peasants, might have yielded some beneficial and lasting results, if it had not been for the secret police. This organization had its spies everywhere, many of whom simulated liberal ideas and thus worked themselves into the councils of the revolutionists, even at times assuming leadership and provoking encounters with the army that only entailed most severe repression on the part of the Government. During these encounters many revolution- ists were killed, while the leaders in the movement were arrested by the police on identification by the spies. Then the tribunals, always handy tools of the despotic Govern- ment, sentenced them to death, to long years of banish- ment in Siberia or to prison. In the Revolution of 1905 this activity of the political secret police, or okhrana, was particularly effective. Two ) ll M4 cit ra Was em re eet ; * ee ee ae La expe te wp me eo oh at. ee ate presi obs Sarit gree oy pp Asie pes bie Bees: Ss eee a alae + * a hen —— CASAL ITY See SPS or aos gird ti we Wyrereae Sak Ts een ae es16 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON of its agents, Azeff and another, insinuated themselves into, and acquired great influence in, the revolutionary centres of the intelligentsia, while the orthodox priest Gapon attained similar influence and position among the working people. As the first two succeeded, without at- tracting suspicion to themselves, in delivering to the police the most dangerous revolutionary leaders among the educated classes, Gapon for his part so manipulated and shaped the whole course of the movement in Ot. Petersburg that he brought about an armed encounter that was predestined to failure. Working in accord and conjunction with General Trepoff, the Commander of the forces of the capital, he organized and headed on January 9, 1905, a patriotic procession to the Place in front of the Tsar’s Palace to petition their little Father. I was in St. Petersburg at this time and was an eye- witness to a large part of the tragedy. Thousands of workers from the factories, students and members of the intelligentsia flowed through the streets, gradually form- ing themselves into columns which finally united in one immense procession, that advanced slowly and majes- tically along the great Nevsky Prospect, the principal street of the capital. At the very head of the procession was Gapon, robed in the full vestments of the Greek Church and bearing a golden cross in his hands. Fol- lowing him were borne ikons of the Saints and pictures of the Tsar and Tsarina. The moving mass sang patri- otic songs or chanted prayers, giving evidence of deep conviction and reverence and everywhere observing an impressive restraint and order. As the great stream flowed along the Nevsky, it di- vided on reaching the cross streets of Morska and Ad- miralty and poured through them out upon AlexanderRUMBLINGS AND DISASTER 17 Place, where through the freezing mist loomed the dark form of the Winter Palace of the Tsars. A paper was brandished in the hand of Gapon. It was the people’s petition to the head of the Romanoffs, demanding that he call together representatives of the people to take part in the Government, basing their plea upon the assertion that only a constitutional form of government would be able to save the State from disaster in the war, from infamy and from dissolution. At the opposite end of the Place some battalions of the Guards were drawn up ready for action. The crowd, peaceably minded, was taken back by the display of force and remained silent, while Gapon led a little group of citizens toward the Palace to request the guard to pre- sent the petition of the people to the Tsar. Suddenly and without warning the soldiers loosed a volley over the heads of the crowd, so that the bullets began whistling through the frozen, snow-covered branches of Alex- ander Park and resounding dully against the houses and on the magnificent colonnade and marble facade of St. Isaac’s Cathedral. ‘The idealistic leaders of the move- ment had, of course, no notion that General Trepoff in his secret order to the garrison had written: “Do not spare cartridges on the 9th of January.” The crowd broke and made for safety; but with those in the rear of the moving mass still pressing forward in ignorance of what was happening in the Place, it com- pressed at first into a great vortex of human beings, mad with fear, and in imminent danger of having life crushed out. Then, seized with panic, it scattered in all directions and many of its units, without arms and without any real knowledge of what they were doing, ran, howling with fear, right upon the soldiers. The sabres of the officers flashed and volley after volley began to tear the Criss: ———— fad AA ey Stee ews seeing Fine oes RREMBEE AD Lelgth Doerr ees eh ae {ORES nw oSeeieeet tre og ————< 5 SOT ATI I ey See a eee eh cepa sts GalataSeeSOS veh ges MPT ried eat OF PAP EME eee ee ee a ya ee eae ae ie ete eR . ” me MEEEESE RUE a TP Sei ad PTE SMM Seo 8 To enaig ial] open Th laa aka oat he DNs me ea Sea etag kabel els Sek he ee 2 8 A ee ee we ey Slee 8 yA o-F ee eS Fl ee Pernt wr sry ae 18 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON heavy frozen air, actually filled with the clouds of vapour that rose from the great mass of citizens, who had come to present their appeal to their Father, the Tsar. The snow was decked with the red flowers of blood and spotted everywhere with the dark bodies of the killed and the wounded, many of the latter, as they tried to rise, being knocked down and trampled to death by the merciless fear of their fleeing companions. The shooting lasted for a considerable time, ending only when the two streets which had poured their human streams upon the Square were empty and still. The Place before the Palace of the Tsar, this Tsar who began all his manifests with the words: “My beloved people,” presented a sad and terribleappearance. Heaps of bodies lay everywhere, among them not only men but women and children as well, who had also come to petition their adored monarch for the happiness and honour of the country. At the opposite end of the Place, General Trepoff made a speech to his faithful battalions, thanking them in the name of their ruler for the service they had per- formed, while the crowds of intelligentsia, students and workers, frightened, bewildered and each moment more excited, broke up into little groups and dispersed into the different parts of the city. On the evening of this fateful day barricades were constructed in the streets of St. Petersburg, and during the whole night and through the two following days the scattered and irregular shooting of the revolutionists answered the loud volleys of the soldiers of the Guard. All factory hands went on strike; the street cars, the railways, the post and even some of the Government offices did not function. But no one saw Gapon anywhere on the barricades. TOT IOS TNE RIED LY AT ARIST TTT Sm RST SONS LM CORE, A SER TE PE A PR PRO ENON ELIL EY RET Es ELE TON BI a NENT Be tay a oe Mead os SOME PCa ee rae Re Pope Senet a7 ; ob ebudecnt ty F oR Pees Tit Ra kK? ; : 4RUMBLINGS AND DISASTER 19 He disappeared without a trace, and only later did it leak out that he was a paid agent of the secret police and as such had brought the Revolution to a disastrous head in this incredible manner. After his treacherous acts the ranks of the idealistic revolutionaries were rapidly de- pleted by the gallows, by the activities of the penal de- tachments under Generals Min, Rennenkampf and Trepoff and by the sentences of the Russian tribunals, prostrating justice before subservience to the orders of the Government authorities, which peopled Siberia and the prisons with these new victims of the crimes and violence of the Tsar’s Government. Gapon, however, did not escape real justice. The rev- olutionists ran him to earth, seized him and hung him in a solitary house in the outskirts of the little town of Terioki in Finland. Engineer Rutenberg was his execu- tioner. The news of the massacre of the peaceable petitioners by the Guard of the Tsar spread over all the great im- mense spaces of Russia, reaching Poland, Pamir and the Pacific. The indignation and despair of the intelligent layers of society had no limits. The peasants, however, remained indifferent. Following the January massacre, the scum of the Russian towns took a vigorous part in the movement against the revolutionary centres of activ- ity, receiving from the police money and orders to de- stroy the “hydra of revolution.” In many of the towns and cities murders of cultured people and of non-Rus- sian citizens began to occur. This scum of mankind, schooled by the horrors of the Russian prisons, under the pay and protection of the secret police killed with im- punity those who were considered dangerous for the Government of the White Tsar, Nicholas II, just as in later years they slew the enemies of the Government of = = a = ae RTA ee oy RE RTE EEE YY = eterna eam = . a er ee re aS ag Lote eee ears ai spied wy abe ~ peg ed a og Doak = ¥ SEU LA Th De Te Es aera: bi Eh de ~ SPEAR NTU LARA camaish maaan si yee ee Bs ei pc i20 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON the Red Tsars, Lenin and Trotzky, robbed people and destroyed whole sections of towns that were inhabited by Poles, Tartars, Armenians and Jews. It was the period of the pogroms of terrible memory. “Pogrom” is the Russian word for “thunder’’—and those who lived through it will long remember this period when there rolled through the land the thunder that gave over to former prisoners and criminals whole towns of those marked for persecution to the plunder of these men with the silent permission of the local authorities and of the Central Government. Under such lashes the demands for a constitution and for the removal of criminals from high posts in the Government increased in volume and extent. On January 1oth I walked from my hotel to the Nevsky Prospect. Crowds of people thronged the side- walks. Though there was a distinct feeling of restless- ness and agitation in the air, nothing gave indication of any reason for, or expectation of, trouble. I was even surprised that so few policemen were in the streets—an unusual thing in the capital. While pondering over this, I was just arriving at the Catholic Church of St. Cath- erine, when I noticed the people in front of me stop suddenly for a moment and then in panic scatter and run to the other sidewalk or start down the middle of the street with shouts and cries. Even yet I did not understand what it was all about until, a little way up the Prospect, I saw a line of soldiers hurrying out to form a double rank across the street from house to house. The next thing I knew, two volleys came ringing down the Prospect. Without a sound a woman dressed in mourning twisted into a ball and lay still on the ground; a man with bulging and startled eyes ran past me, press- ing his bleeding head with his hands; and a schoolboyRUMBLINGS AND DISASTER 21 with his books limped into a side street, crying with pain. Only a few steps in front of me a little girl with a basket swayed and fell on her back. Rolls scattered out of her basket. To this day I remember seeing one of them roll into a little pool of blood on the pavement and stick there. When I regained conscious control of myself, which had been momentarily lost through the shock of the vol- leys and the cries of the wounded, I found myself alone on the sidewalk. Though the shooting had temporarily ceased, I flattened myself against the nearest house and began my retreat. Soon I had rounded the corner and was for the moment safe. From the hiding-place which I had found and in which I waited immediate develop- ments, I heard new volleys that were being fired from the tower of the City Hall and in the neighbourhood of the Anichkoff Palace. A little later the Nevsky Prospect looked deserted and dead. Then the police appeared, quickly removed the bodies of the slain and covered the pools of blood with yellow sand, while patrols took up their stations at the corners of the streets. From time to time shots were heard and the shrieking bullets wailed their dirge off in the direction of the monument of Alexander III. In this drastic manner the authorities checked all traffic on the great artery of the capital and with such lessons taught the public not to con- gregate. Thirteen years later, in this same capital, with its name changed to Petrograd, I was again witness during the Revolutionary terror in 1917 and 1918 to similar scenes. In the same manner soldiers suddenly appeared and shot down the people, but with only this difference, that dur- ing the rule of the Tsar such a thing occurred only once, while during Bolshevik days it occurred so frequently. ee mete Telgi ahaichet state! u Sahel noe gs papilla cast eee Paka Oe ase £43 pejbiarteeerot5 ih 5, pieehy = as [UMA Ie Fig on i . eresyAEH FDS aS boo) cae as oe 22 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON that people became quite accustomed to it. When leaving the house, one would ask: “Can one use the Nevsky Prospect to-day? Are they shooting?” “Of course they are,” was the answer frequently re- ceived. “But you can pass, because to-day they are shooting along the left side of the street only, so that you can travel on the right.” This was, is and surely will continue to be for a long time still the manner of the authorities in dealing with the people, whom they have always regarded merely as cattle without rights and accustomed to most monstrous measures of repression. Watchwords have changed but the system of government has remained the same. It is illegality and violence. The Russians learned this ter- rible method, as they groaned for three hundred years under the yoke of the descendants of Jenghiz Khan, these Tartar conquerors who held a bloody hand over the im- mense state whose bournes they did not rightly know. During the early period of the outbreak in St. Peters- burg my business compelled me to go to Warsaw for a few days. The Revolution reached here very soon. Poland, ruthlessly partitioned one hundred and fifty years ago by Russia, Austria and Prussia, suffered most in Warsaw because of the violence of the St. Petersburg overlordship. The reflection of this was often seen in the European Press, where violent comment and protests were made against the pogroms or wholesale massacres of the Jews. Yet no one raised his voice against the continuing martyrdom of Poland. From time to time the secret police in the Warsaw fortress hung or shot hundreds of Poles who dared to raise their voices in pro- test against the lawlessness of the Russian authorities, these men who closed the churches and Polish schools,RUMBLINGS AND DISASTER 23 forbade under pain of imprisonment the use of the mother tongue, persecuted Polish writers, scholars, the Press and educated people generally and sent whole crowds of Poles under that fatal escort to banishment in Siberia. When the news of this Revolution of 1905 reached Warsaw, many Poles immediately joined in the demand for a constitution, adding to it a petition for the auton- omy of Poland. Terror was the Russian answer—ar- rest, imprisonment, banishment to Siberia and the death sentence for thousands of the Polish nation. When three Poles assembled, the police called it “a crowd of revolutionists’” and shot at them. Loud talk or a peal of laughter was considered a revolutionary symptom and sufficient grounds for punishment. On my arrival in Warsaw I went to stay in the Hotel Bristol in Krakowskie Przedmiescie Street. [I went out about eleven o’clock the first morning and found that the usually gay and animated city wore a strange appearance. Shops, restaurants and cafés were closed; no street cars were moving, but the thoroughfares were thronged with people. It was as if the whole population were out of doors, moving up and down in silence and seemingly peaceable. Suddenly from the direction of the Zamek, the old Palace of the Polish Kings, resounded cries and the thud of horses’ hoofs. I turned and caught the stirring, fore- boding sight of a detachment of hussars in battle forma- tion, coming at full gallop down the street. The curved sabres glistened in the cold air, while the breath of the horses and men seemed to frame the group in a cloud of steam. The horsemen galloped along the sidewalks, crushing some and riding others off into the street. Above it all the sharp blows with the flat of the sabres and the awful curses of the soldiers were heard. WhenWO ot PEI ty a Tk Ves eM er pete sis reer te Pres err es $intae 24 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON the whole crowd had been driven to the middle of the Krakowskie Przedmiescie, a second detachment of cav- alry swung in from a back street and fell on the public with drawn sabres. People ran everywhere, climbed lamp-posts, rushed from one side of the street to the other, were jostled and trampled by the horses and beaten by the soldiers. IT could not disentangle myself from the mass, which surrounded me and surged madly in one direction or another in its frantic efforts to escape the horsemen. Suddenly, as if something had unlocked the crowd, it dispersed so quickly that I had no time to choose whither I should fly; for there at but a short distance away I saw a galloping hussar riding down on me with sabre raised. “Te will strike me,” I thought quickly, and hate raised in the depth of my soul. My hand went quickly to my pocket, reaching for my Browning. “T will not let him strike me,’ something exclaimed within me and seemed to calm me at once. A moment more and the soldier would have been upon me. Already I had drawn my revolver, when suddenly the cavalry- man’s mount slid and fell on the slippery pavement, crushing its rider. To the left and right I saw galloping soldiers; but soon the street was emptied, so that I could cross quietly over and turn into a side way. Such a scene has often been enacted in Warsaw, bent as it was under the yoke of Russia; yet we did not pub- lish our tortures to the world, for we had faith in our destiny, were strong and hoped for the day of our re- venge—that revenge which came in 1920 when we checked and defeated the Red Army in the heart of our own land and bought with our blood the rebirth of a free Polish State. The waves of the Revolution of 1905 rolled fartherRUMBLINGS AND DISASTER 25 and farther out over southern and eastern Russia. When in the south the courageous, liberty-loving people of the Caucasus rose and far to the east the Mongolian tribes held in armed subjection to Russia began to federate and organize themselves, a group of officials near the throne sensed the gravity of the situation and counselled the Tsar to grant a constitutional government to Russia. But the Tsar, listening to the advice of the extreme mon- archists, refused his support of the constitutionalists and answered them by dismissing the over-liberal courtiers. This attitude of the Court persisted until Count S. J. Witte, disliked by the Tsar but possessing a very great influence among officials and people alike, made use of it in the interests of the movement toward a more liberal constitutional form of government. In those unhappy months of 1904 and 1905 two cata- clysms overwhelmed Russia—one in the guise of the ever onward-marching Japanese Army; the other, the Revolution which profoundly shook the foundations of the State. Paes AMT ART DR eto aa aethded TARAS INSETS ee ews ELITES nde pe pi eT apie. Sia a igh adh sy pars eae chaperone DRE aes ati lactis antes pier Tinley es: = oreecrernrn sl OEMS carat eee nit NOTA See RE Serer eee RE 7 Pee nas ere: See tere ner CIT $h6 bee4 CHAPTER III SUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY N the return from my trip to the capital I arrived at Harbin in the spring of 1905 and, though I heard the stories of the destruction of the Russian warships at Port Arthur, I found the general sentiment everywhere excellent. People still had faith in the ultimate victory of Russia and expected much from the new regiments constantly arriving from the west. In the meantime, having completed the organization and equipment of my laboratory, I had a great deal of accumulated work upon my hands. Orders from the General Staff directed me to search out some local supply of oil for use as a lubricant in the artillery, for the trans- port wagons in the field and for the axles of the rail- way carriages, as well as for the manufacture of soap. The problem was shortly resolved by the discovery in the oil extracted from the soya bean of the qualities neces- sary for these purposes. Also these beans were pro- duced in such a really fabulous amount in northern Man- churia that the question of quantity production for mili- tary purposes was thus taken care of. After having worked out a new method of manufacture, I organized and opened a factory at Harbin which turned out all sorts of oils and soaps by a cold process that was very simple and quick, and in such quantities as to meet all the needs 26 We epeateeSUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY 27 in the war area and thus save the railway from the neces- sity of transporting these supplies from Europe. The Manchurian spring, which merges so quickly into summer, found me busily engaged in this new and ab- sorbing task. The fresh levies of soldiers from Europe arrived with the first swallows, coming as though out on a sporting expedition and decked in white, blue and pink blouses, which gave to the whole neighbourhood of Har- bin the appearance of bright groups of flowers. It was a pleasing sight to watch these gay spots of colour on the dark emerald ground of meadows and the foliage that is sa rampant in Manchuria. But when these same brilliant colours were transferred to the battle lines around Liaoyang, they served as ad- mirable targets for the Japanese gunners and riflemen, who found such shooting easy and often wiped out whole companies or even battalions. Only then, after these costly and fatal lessons, was the difference between the uniforms of the Russians and the Japanese appreciated. The Japanese had adopted the regular khaki and enjoyed its natural protection against the greenish-brown back- ground of the landscape. A popular outcry soon arose for a change in the disastrous hues of the multi-coloured blouses and had its repercussion in my laboratory, where I soon found a method of extracting from the lignite, or brown coal, that abounds in the region, a dye for giving a neutral hue to the soldiers’ linen. In the meantime my voracious soap factory was always demanding more and more of the soya bean oil. As it was then not available in sufficient quantity on the Harbin market, I determined to start out in search of a district where the oil was plentiful and from which it could be readily transported to Harbin. With my assistant and two Cossacks I journeyed up the Sungari River in a WERT a ice bet pra veka pears a5 sige ee Baer Lye Sa aa ia peg a eure nee aa Sra elles28 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON southwesterly direction with the thought in mind that, if big bean plantations and supplies of the oil were found in this region, the Chinese could easily bring the oil down- stream in their single-masted junks. I had been told that I should find large plantations of soya beans in the neighbourhood of Hsin Ch’eng Fu or Petuna, a large trading centre located near the point where the Sungari bends round to the eastward, as it comes down from the mountains of Kirin. Consequently I took passage on the steamer Pogranitchmk for that place. The Sungari has cut its course through layers of loess, this characteristic fertile, yellow Chinese soil, composed of the dusts of the north, the blowing sands from the Gobi, mud from the spring freshets and the remains of decaying vegetation and small organisms. As we made our way up against the swift yellow current, we fre- quently saw immense pieces of the yellow clay, sometimes carrying bushes and even trees, break off from the bank and sink into the undermining stream to be borne north- ward to help build up some new shoals in process of formation below or to be carried out and deposited on the bar at the mouth of the Amur. We passed numerous small villages between the Chinese port of Harbin where we embarked, called Fu Chia Tien, and Petuna, numbering as a rule a few of the mud-coloured fang-tzu, or Chinese houses, and the in- evitable shrine, built near the river bank in the shadow of the trees. Often, when our steamer in its tortuous windings skirted close to the bank, the Chinese rushed out from their mud-plastered houses, stared at us curiously and voiced their comments in monosyllabic, incomprehensible words. Then, as we drew alongside and stopped at one of the larger villages to take on wood fuel for the engine,SUPPEIES FOR KURO@PAMEKINGS ARMY (20 well-armed Russian soldiers would come on board and take post along the docks. When I asked one of them the reason for this amount of precaution out in these apparently tranquil places, he answered: “Many of the villages along the Sungari are the head- quarters or hiding-places of gangs of hunghutzes. These Manchurian brigands are really very dangerous, for they have fair equipment, an unusual scouting system and a clever organization. Attacks on steamers, especially when they are carrying money and arms, are rather fre- quent. They are a dangerous people, these Chinese, sir; and they don’t like us.” I made no reply to the soldier, though I might have given him one very strong reason why the Chinese did not like the Russians, if I had chosen to relate to him the story of the Blagoveschensk massacre in 1899, when Gen- eral Gribsky, Governor of the Amur Province, caused the drowning of about three thousand Chinese, men, women and children alike, by his order that they should leave Russian territory and cross at once to their own bank of the Amur. That there should be no delay in the execution of his order, he had his soldiers drive these helpless people into the fast-flowing and deep river with the very natural and expected result that they were all drowned. Also the general treatment accorded by the Russians to the Chinese in Manchuria had conduced only to this end. We Poles had known the same thing in our coun- try, and naturally hated the Russians for it; but I realized that it would be a useless task to point out these facts to the soldier, for he would not understand having re- spect for anyone who was not a Russian, especially for a people whose virtues did not demonstrate themselves in a military manner. Al Russian distinguishes only the ——— aie ° x acne Ca I US ME ss ‘ "< me a + c SER RINNE CRE sep unesgnecsi bbs soenba reasons “signs upp kl biased ot nth Saal a eos = = oe ae: rns ee saa ‘ od fp EEF. ee, «ii pao ga ea Maar ae sree sea SCNDUTN eT ES sk eid bein zp pabiag sl ppm pear Tt ons ene pe rs fs ot aa 3. nines lag RET Rs Ai mm i I Raseneyereyierinit ys tree Fan eee ETE WEES Le, ise! 30 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON weak, whom he despises and persecutes, and the strong, whom he fears. During our days on the river my hunter’s heart was thrilled with watching, in the early morning hours and during the dusk of evening, the flocks of wild duck and the V’s of honking geese going north in their spring migration. They usually flew easily and low, calling to one another with notes that betokened no distrust. One could even distinguish the sounds of the heavier wings of the geese and swans mingled with the quicker rhythms of duck and teal. They flew without fear, as they had not experienced danger in the marshy jungles of Siam and Burma; only now they were nearing attractive feed- ing grounds where death awaited some of them. There across the railroad stretched the marshes, where hunters crouched and awaited their advent and where, through all the weeks of spring, individual birds are summoned by the hunter on their last flight and tumble or sail with wounded breast and wing to earth and death. But such thoughts steal into the mind only here in town, when one is sitting at a desk with telephone and electric reading lamp by one’s side and with the jangling of cars and the threatening klaxons of the motors intrud- ing from the street; but out there, where the long lines of geese string over the river, the hunter has no such scruples. His eyes only count the birds and narrow down to fix his aim. As I watched the very first flocks from our steamer’s deck, I resolved, just as soon as my work should permit, to go out fora hunt. I never left home without a shot- gun and a rifle, and a long sojourn in the Ussurian coun- try had taught me that a hunter with less than three hun- dred shells is no hunter at all but only a pitiable dilettante. Consequently I had with me my 12-gauge Sauer, my TEL aeSUPPEIBS FOR SUROPADKIN SF ARMY > 31 Henel rifle and more, oh many more than three hundred cartridges. Petuna was also really only a village with the identical type of fang-tzu which we had seen all along the bank. The single difference was that the houses were more in number and crowded together, forming the larger streets and alleys thronged with Chinese and Manchu men, women and naked children, with carts piled high with kaoliang and sacks of millet, beans and flour, most of these thoroughfares being filled with pigs, chickens, mud and dirt, dirt without end! A larger two-storied building with a Chinese curved roof and surrounded by a mud wall flanked one side of an open square. Two mast-like poles with long streamers carrying a line of Chinese hieroglyphs dominated the entrance and marked the en- closure as the Yamen, the official residence of the Taotat with his small garrison, which acted as the local police. As it was necessary for me to obtain certain documents from the Taotai, I visited the Yamen. When I entered, a large, broad-shouldered Chinese in blue trousers and a short blue coat, was sitting on a raised platform in the centre of the main building directly opposite the en- trance gate, whose painted wooden screen protected all this, however, from the gaze of the passers-by. The man wore also a peculiar red apron with a black, curling border. He gave me an indifferent glance and continued his work—a strange and ominous one, for he was scour- ing with brick dust and oil an immense heavy sword with a large curving blade. A small table with a red frontal cloth carrying two black hieroglyphs stood in front of the raised platform. A little distance apart five Chinese knelt with their necks imprisoned in great heavy cangues, their hands tied to a long pole and their ankles fastened with chains. Bending under the weight of the heavy wooden = +48 : ras = st eo mae or x —— ion aaah - - 7 eres Serre bes 7 Mkts eee TSELPeITTEN Pee Te z ar eee MEN ALT ey ange vemeee me rete = iS e ts pret NP aeeeneoe — EIS PAN EI eT! TTT ee oe ~ = 2 sie ah une Soc peel aregee es Ea at iL eee iu ae ara oR voi AEE Bi ead Eas na TT ayaPrat i ried abate bth dl bere od band eh a healehisthe elit EST Wares SLE T a SL roe 4 yaa et pet ae 32 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON collars, which had chafed their necks and shoulders, they looked curiously at me, talking and even laughing loudly. Once or twice one of them put a question to the big man with the sword, which he answered in a thick, feel- ingless voice. In a few moments the Taotai appeared, a small, thin man in a black silken overgown and the regular official hat with a red button and a peacock feather as the in- signia of his rank. When the Cossack interpreter made known to him my wishes, the official pointed to the red table and spoke at some length to the Cossack, fre- quently turning to me, as he spoke, with a smile or a Salute. “The Taotai offers his apologies and says that he will only be able to prepare your documents after half an hour, for just now he must pass sentence upon these hunghutzes, who have been taken red-handed in robbery. Note, please, the inscription on the red frontal cloth. It is very stern: ‘Culprit, tremble!’ To instil fear is a well- recognized element in the administration of the Chinese law.” “And who is the man with the sword?” I asked, even though I felt sure I should not require more than one guess to answer my Own question. “He is the executioner,’ answered the Cossack. “These poor men will surely be beheaded, for I heard ene of them asking the executioner if he could sever the head from the body with one clean stroke.” While the Cossack was thus speaking with me, the Taotai had perused some papers, set his seal on them and again entered the conversation with many polite bows. “The Taotai invites you to be present at the trial and at the execution,” explained my interpreter. Unattracted pire ener a ca era stgSUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY = 33 by the invitation, I declined without regret and an- nounced my intention of returning in half an hour. During this interval I visited the town, wandering along the principal street, where all sorts of shops, restaurants, inns, opium dens and gambling houses jostled one an- other. Both sides of the roadway were lined with great and small poles, which carried many forms of red and black signs advertising commercial wares or the products of the manufacturing shops, whose fronts opened on the street. In one of these was a bakery, or rather a confectioner’s shop, where several half-naked Chinese were making steamed dumplings or man-t’ou and other dainties. Boot- makers, tailors, locksmiths and tinkers all worked in dark and smelly quarters. Farther on against a sunny wall two barbers plied their trade, one of them scraping the hair from the head and face of his sleeping client with a spoon-shaped razor, while the other washed and re- braided a pigtail, finishing it off with the tassel of black silk at the end. A fat old Chinese, decked with a pair of immense black-rimmed spectacles, readily accepted by all as in- dubitable sign of his wisdom, sat gravely behind a little table that carried the regulation inkstone, Chinese pens, a package of paper and the familiar long envelopes with a broad red band down the middle. His business was the writing of petitions to the authorities and private let- ters to the relatives of those who had never been initiated into the mysteries of chirography. He was also not be- neath proclaiming loudly the merits of his services, which he averred would bring sure results. At another table sat a doctor, clad in a long grey overgown and also wearing the spectacles of wisdom and importance. He listened to the complaints of the suf- Sc pongo —anaes ic ipsa AE Naat caer c ioe34 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON ferers and, without interrogating them for further data or even scrutinizing them for outward physical signs, closed his mental diagnosis, announced the price of the remedy and, witha dry, wrinkled hand, brought out from a little chest the magic powders and pills. Attracted by these many street scenes, I wandered for nearly an hour before returning to the Yamen. As we entered, an oppressing, gruesome picture staggered us. The executioner still sat on the raised platform, cleaning his sword as before, but this time from a stain for which no oil and brick dust were required. Right there before the tribunal of justice lay the terrible evidence of the work it had done. Soon the Taotai, with the regular unofficial black hat replacing the more formal headgear, appeared, smiling and amiable, and presented to me the document which recommended me to the protection and the courtesies of the various authorities in the district of Petuna. With this official introduction in hand I left the forbidding scene with considerable misgiving as to what the “‘protec- tion and courtesies” of these Chinese officials might mean. I did not discover any appreciable quantities of bean oil in or near the town, but was told where I might expect to find it and so spent another day and a half in Petuna, looking for horses and a guide and living the while on board a steamer loading cattle for the army. During this time I went all about the town and the immediate neighbourhood, as I wished to post myself on the crop prospects of the region. Near the town the Golden Nonni, with the affluent waters of the Tolo coming from the eastern slopes of the Great Khingan range, joins the Sungari. Westward from the Nonni and the Sungari a portion of the semi- arid eastern end of the Gobi stretches away to theseSUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY — 35 mountains and affords pasturage for the numerous herds of cattle and sheep which the Kara-Khorch’in tribe of Mongols graze around their camps. Though long fingers of desert sands reach into this region, it is traversed by a few rivers which water it well enough to keep large areas of pasturage green. Perhaps the best feeding grounds of the whole border region between Manchuria and Mongolia lie between the Tolo and Shara Muren Rivers. In Petuna the immense figures of the Kara-Khorch’ins, with their flat faces and their narrow slits of black eyes, attracted attention among the typical Chinese and Man- chus. They had round heads with short, stiff, bristling hair, and their feet appeared curved from the constant contact with the saddle. In the course of my business, I made the acquaintance of the richest merchant of the town and heard from him some interesting law regarding these Kara- Khorch’ins. He told me that this tribe had often swept down toward the Great Wall, which protected China from the attacks of the northern barbarians. More than once the powerful Sons of Heaven feared that this war- like tribe would eventually threaten Peking itself, but the Khorch’ins drew away to the north and disappeared with- out trace in the prairies and wastes here between the Nonni and the Khingans. But later, in the twelfth century, during the days of the Sung dynasty, they returned to visit the country with fire and sword. It was the time when the hordes of barbarous Khitans of the great Tungutze tribe began threatening Peking from the north. These wild, big- framed Khorch’ins, closely related to the Khitans, led the van and first carried murder and plunder beyond the Great Wall, scourging with their wild fury the settled SOAS rey ose St suite IteoP pra at hee reba 0a pe eee cert eg BLT de beter oe oye bh oe fa oe de iA 22a eure oT Peed TATA NS a oa be obits ce os Cie ope ee 36 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON regions of the Han and forcing the terrified rulers to leave their sacred dwelling in the Forbidden City to found a new capital in Nanking on the Yangtze. But another wave of barbarian hordes appeared to conquer and drive out the Khorch’ins and Khitans. These were the Kin Tartars, who supplanted their savage forerunners in the possession of China’s rich fields, only to yield themselves, in turn, to the old civilization of the con- quered land and disappear in the great Chinese ocean, leaving nothing after them except the impetus to the Chinese to repair and strengthen the Great Wall against possible further invasion from the north. On my second day in town I secured, for a rather high price, horses and a guide and shortly after dawn on the following day set out from Petuna to travel east along the right bank of the Sungari; for I had been in- formed that, in the district between the small river of Hsi La Ho and the town of La Lin, situated at the foot of the mountain of the same name, I should find large plantations of beans and numerous native mills turning out oil and beancake. Above Petuna the country along the river was more sparsely peopled. Sometimes we rode for hours without passing a house. I was even afraid at times that we might have no roof over our heads at night, but in this I was happily reassured, when at sunset we rode into sight of a small hamlet of several farm-houses set in a grove of tall elms. Here we stopped for the night. Our guide led us to the largest fang-tzu, which was the ordinary, long dwell- ing with a single thin wooden partition cutting off about a third of the space for kitchen and living quarters. In this there was the typical low mud stove with a big bowl-likeSUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY 37 iron pan that serves for boiling their porridges of grain and their vegetable soups, for frying occasionally in bean or sesamum seed oil, for steaming the man-t’ou or dump- ling-bread of the north and for all the other culinary operations. A fire of dry kaoliang stalks and driftwood fished out of the river burned under the iron pan while the smoke carried away through a flue that circulated under and through the raised platform of mud brick, or k’ang, and then issued forth on the outside of the house, through a conical clay chimney. The k’ang is thus warmed by the waste heat from the kitchen fire and serves the purpose of both a stove and a general bed for the whole family. I saw no trace of furnishings in the room save the straw mats spread over the dirt on top of the k’ang; some wooden basins and cups, two buckets and an axe, which appeared to comprise the total personal property of the household. The Chinese host called the women. Two old ones and a young one answered, all of them ugly and awfully dirty. They were sullen and answered all our questions with contemptuous silence. They busied themselves with sweeping dust from the k’ang, then prepared tea and dis- appeared again. We settled for the night on the unbear- ably hot k’ang and surrendered ourselves to the mercies of a whole army of previous occupants, who made hid- eous the night through their proofs of valour and greed. ‘At the outset I tried to fight this army, making vigorous counter-attacks; but I was eventually forced to capitulate and waited tediously for the dawn, fearing that, if the sun were late, my losses would prove fatal. But the sun was prompt and mercifully drove the satiated enemy into their dugouts to spend the day in dreaming of another night raid. It was not, however, until I was on the high-e Br are ee %, ‘tobe si 2 i * eT aareet acon lt eanll lat saseareaty I To ee 38 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON road in full retreat from the battle ground that I discov- ered some of the enemy still hovering on the flanks and only shook these off by vigorous riding. As we proceeded farther along the bank of the Sun- gari, we came upon rank growths of willows, which shielded the road from view on the river-side. At one point a long sand spit projected far into the stream. Through the tops of the bushes I saw a sight which stirred and enchanted me. An immense flock of geese blackened the shoal, and, though it was impossible for me to make an accurate estimate, they must have num- bered thousands. Evidently they had passed the night hereabouts and were now feeding in the crevices of the sand and in the small pools of water, which had been left behind by the receding current, or on a small fry in the shallows along the spit. Many varieties of geese were here. Among them I identified the common grey goose (Anser cinereus), the corn goose (Anser segetum), the casark (Casarca rubra), common in Mongolia and Thibet, the coral lama bird (Casarca rutila), the Indian or bar-headed goose (Anser indicus), the bernicle (Bernicla torquata) and the diving goose (Mergus mer- ganser). Near by on the water rode flocks of wild duck, among them the cross or mallard duck (Anas boscas), the red-necked duck (Fuligula ferina), the teal (Nettion crecca), the duck with white brows (Oedemia fusca), very rare in these latitudes. A group of silver swans floated like great flocks of white foam farther out in the stream. They were of the two well-known varieties of the crying swan (Cygnus musicus) and the deaf swan (Cygnus olor). As is also the case in southern and eastern Siberia, this Manchurian conglomerate of the wilds had a marked peculiarity. Not only the species commonly found in theSUPPLIES FOR KUROPRATKINS (ARMY 39 northward summer migrations but also the varieties pe- culiar to the south had, for some unknown reason, mingled and joined in the long aerial trek. As we observed them from our shelter, the sun was already over the horizon and the well-known nervous unrest before flight was beginning to manifest itself among the birds. The geese scattered along the shoal began to break up into groups, with the old and more experienced males emerging as leaders, while the others calmly waddled into their places along the forming sides of the V’s or quarrelled raucously over the best positions in the formation, that is, those nearest the ends of the lines where it is easier to fly. The birds raised their heads and stretched their long necks toward the glowing face of the golden sun, as they prepared to start. The short, bass notes of the leaders and the querulous voices of the others filled the air, but it was not from among the chattering geese that the signal for departure came. It was the ducks that first rose with their more strident tones and, with the hurrying splash of wings on the water followed by the more measured cadence, invited their fellow-wayfarers to continue their journey north, whither their instinct, that unfailing heritage of past zeons, unerringly guided them. Next the swans moved their great majestic wings, cut the water with their pluméd breasts and rose in widening circles higher and higher, until they seemed to be almost motionless, poised beneath broken drifts of clouds, which, in their feathery whiteness, seemed themselves like unto great moving birds, shining in the sun. But when they had taken sufficient elevation, they headed north, an un- dulating, vibrant grey stream flowing off toward Arctic space. Ina few moments the geese rose with their dull trumpeting and noisy splashing of wings and, dressing Teresi t Ca labo ualal (ours mageer geet Sa =bar ieee anaemic n rc alae orienta 4 40 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON their lines, drove the wedges of their V’s in swift pur- suit. The shoal was deserted; yet, for some time, I could not tear myself away from watching the disappearing broken lines in the north, for I am always thrilled by the sight and contemplation of these magnificent, strong- winged birds making this heroic pilgrimage from the Indian marshes with their lazy, venomous cobras and their rapacious tigers, to the far-away peat bogs at the mouth of the Yenisei, the Ob and the Lena and along the shores of the Arctic Ocean. To this flight they are driven by an atavistic instinct, strong as life itself and ineradicable as death—an instinct that guides them to these coldest climes, where they will breed the strongest and most nearly perfect of young. In obedience to this ever-recurring command these geese, ducks and swans go thousands of miles every spring, and nothing can stop them. Hunger, cold, driving rain, snow and the death that men project up into the sky—nothing of all this can stay these winged migrants nor change the course of these victims of instinct and destiny. They fly along routes probably established through millions of years, known and marked for them as clearly as paths and high- Ways are for men. Exotic birds in these northern migrations always made a strange impression upon me. Frequently, when hunt- ing in Manchuria and Siberia, I have identified Indian geese, beautiful Japanese ibises, flamingos in their blaze of colour and Egyptian storks, all heading for, or return- ing from, these Arctic regions, which are really foreign to them. I often pondered over the question of what might be impelling these feathered worshippers of sun and sand in their dangerous proselyting flight. Was it resSUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY § 41 the resistless command of nature, pointing to the neces- sity of perfecting their kind by breeding in the Far North a stronger and more enduring progeny, which should bring new vigour to counteract the enervating and de- stroying influences of the tropics? Or were these exotics unquiet souls, lured by, and driven on to, great efforts full of difficulties and dangers? Were they such indi- viduals as we find among men, whom we catalogue, ac- cording to the results of their efforts, as “madmen” or “geniuses”? Who will answer this question for us? I should always have been ready to forgo shooting at these avian Columbuses, Vasco de Gamas, Menédezes, Stanleys and Nansens, if I could have distinguished in the flocks flying in the mysterious half-light and half- shade of dawn or evening these unusually enterprising and tragically beautiful beings. Alas, we recognize them only when we find them covered with blood in the reeds or sweet-flag, biered on the element which is foreign and merciless to them. At such times I have mourned for them and have pictured to myself landscapes from the journeys of these victims of my hunting passion. There has come before me the yellow ribbon of the Nile, the ruins of kingly Thebes with the mystery of blessings or curses petrified in each stone block of the temples, in each colonnade. Then through the shimmering heat of the Indian plains, blanketed with sultry vapours made heavier by the aroma of flowers, I have caught the lacy patterns of the pagodas of Benares, the minarets of Allahabad and the scarlet gate of Delhi. Farther on, among plantains, elms and tamarisks, have stood out the curving-roofed temples of south China along the banks of the Pearl River and the more sombre cities dotting the course of the great Yangtze Kiang. AboveUr oe me cag rid ont Tee aah Tee i pbc Maiti einer hu 1 of ea Cito. pets Sol FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON 42 these vast panoramas of land and water travel waving ranks of these beautiful birds, shimmering and undulat- ing like autumn spiderwebs floating in the air. However, these visions suddenly faded as though they had never been; for, as I gazed out over the willow bushes to the deserted shoal, I heard right near me the dull trumpeting and whirring of the powerful wings of a new, low-flying flock of geese, and automatically raised my gun to race the leader by a few feet, without ever stopping to think that my leaden messenger might cut the life-thread of some bird dreamer or of some bold conquistador. But then something stopped me; and I raised my head, slowly brought my gun down and dream- ily watched the flock disappear on the horizon. When they were out of sight, I turned and continued my own journey up along the river bank. As the road moulded itself to the curves of the stream, there stretched out on the left great areas of those mar- vellously furrowed Chinese fields of kaoliang, millet and wheat, interspersed with sections of soya beans. Chinese and Manchus worked everywhere through the fields and in their vegetable patches around the small hamlets or detached fang-tzu which clustered in the shadows of tall trees farther back from the river bank. Toward the end of a long day’s ride we came, at about four in the afternoon, upon a most difficult stretch of road through a section that was all under water. The road became a bog, full of holes and ruts, into which our horses constantly stumbled and plunged, until we took on the appearance of statues of fresh clay, for we were spattered from head to foot with the sticky, yellow mud. In this plight we met some Khorch’ins, nodding on their carefully advancing camels. They told our guide that heavy snows had fallen on the La Lin during the winter PTET SFT LSS TCR RERI SEP EPENET TPT NET SE ene On een ee ee 5 Bee Pat 4SUBPELES POR KUROPAWISINES kM = 742 and that torrential rains in the mountains had now brought the waters of some smaller streams up over the surrounding country. For some distance we travelled through this flooded territory, losing our way at times and miring at others in the bogs of this yellow, fecund soil. Kaoliang stubble, cornstalks, willow bushes and occa- sional oaks showed above the water here and there through the low fields; while on the more elevated places, where it was dry, much life was visible. Hares, seek- ing safety from the waters that had taken possession cf their holes, fieldmice and, on one mound, red foxes hid in the bushes. Over the inundated lands snipe, pewits (Vanellus cristatus), wading birds (Actitis hypoleucus) and other species of gulls (Gallinago) flew in all direc- tions, settling occasionally on the rocks or bushes that protruded from the water and then again commencing their restless flight. After laborious, exhausting wading we came just at sunset to a chain of hillocks, where the road once more emerged upon dry land and where, at the edge of a small wood, we discovered a village of some fifty to sixty houses. It was Hsi La Ho, the place we were seeking. As we approached the village, we passed through exten- sive fields of the soya bean, and in the outskirts of the place we found the regulation long Chinese building in which the beans were pressed. The headman of the village received us very hospitably and, after reading the Hu-chao of the Taotat, lodged us in a rather clean house and summoned a meeting of the dealers to discuss the question of delivering bean oil to Harbin. Soon I had signed an agreement with the in- habitants of the village and had arranged with the head- man that he should conclude others with the neighbour- ing districts. eee ah al ateteag Aiea &- ee MPa iainkebablpanobconsiebs einen area ebb E IG $4 3104 HEE Kai neds bei SST ogau op Rg eee ye Cite rhs DiraensewT Ae weet sree ee ; oe me ink eS ark ebege pepe. ANT R EI TO LY eae figs i ad _ res pare ppc ageetrins hi pei oe TepeSib deen rich der etast $5 , a hagiee seeiers fea bhciied. pa be eeel fie omsaeoetarint he 4 44 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON After having visited the oil mills on the following morning, I felt free to go hunting during the period of rest which we had to give our horses following their strenuous trip of the preceding day. I took the Cossack Nicholas with me and headed north for the edge of the inundated lands, where I had seen the snipe and other water-birds. For a considerable distance we trudged over low hillocks covered with scrub oak. Pheasant cocks in their brilliant colouring and the hens of quieter hues frequently flashed before us with loud squawks and that powerful drumming of the wings that sends a thrill through a hunter’s heart. But this day I was to take none of them home with me, as they all rose at long range and as I had only small snipe shot with me. Chance seemed against us. At a distance of between two and three miles from the village we saw a solitary house situated at the bottom of a rather deep vale with two saddled horses tied to a post in front of it. When we had made a hundred yards farther, two Chinese ran out of the house with carbines in their hands, sprang adroitly upon their horses and galloped off toward the farther end of the dell, where they disappeared around a turnin the road. In just a little while they reappeared on a hillock farther on, stopped and began observing us attentively. “Tt is a hunghutze patrol,’ whispered the Cossack in fear. “We must turn back.” Under these conditions hunting was impossible, as we might easily have fallen into the hands of these Chinese brigands, who during the Russo-Japanese War had proved themselves to be very cruel to the “man-tzu,” as they designated all Europeans. We immediately returned to the village and left the same day for Harbin. As we learned that a junk laden with eggs and chickens was I a a a nen aor Ten Sei ERD Se ne Lee any at ee ee cae Ea EeSUPPLIES FOR KUROPATKIN’S ARMY = 45 sailing that afternoon from the neighbouring village of T’un Hsi for Fu Chia Tien, I ordered our guide to take the horses back to Petuna and went with my men on board this junk to enjoy immensely the rapid run down- stream to Harbin, where a surprise awaited me.GHAR TE Ra; INTO THE FOREST N returning to Harbin I found a despatch from the General Staff containing the announcement that I had been honoured with the Cross of St. Stanislaus and offering me the post of Chemical Expert to the General Staff. But in addition to this pleasing news the letter also communicated to me orders, in the execution of which I nearly lost my life. The Staff directed me to organize on a big scale the manufacture of charcoal for use in the military workshops, inasmuch as there was no coke factory anywhere in the Manchurian territory. A special timber concession was set aside for my purposes. Almost parallel to the course of the Sungari the forest- covered range of Chang-Kuan-Tsai Lan, which is one of the southern spurs of the Little Khingans, runs in a northeasterly direction. In the vast forests on the south- ern slope of this range, near the small station of Udzimt on the Chinese Eastern Railway, lay the concession which had been put at my disposal. On the day of receiving my orders I went immediately to visit the territory of my future activities and to plan out roughly their course. Udzimi consisted only of a very small station building for the telegraph office and the administration staff and of a long brick barracks, which afforded housing for the railway hands and some Cossacks. Immediately behind these station buildings 46INTOVWEE, HORBST 47 the forest stretched away in unbroken lines. I took two Cossacks and plunged into it. We found it was com- posed of a mixed stand of deciduous and evergreen trees, chiefly pines and firs, and that it was a real jungle with thick, almost impenetrable undergrowth everywhere. It was not a good stand for manufacturing lumber but for burning charcoal it was exactly what we wanted. As we entered the woods, we followed a broad path, on a low, wet section of which I saw from the tracks of horses and men that the route was considerably travelled. It finally led us to a swirling, splashing little stream that came tumbling boisterously down from the mountain. On its bank was the little village of Ho Lin with re- stricted fields of kaoliang and beans around it, and, farther back, the edge of the dark green forest that car- peted the mountain slope. As I needed many labourers for felling and cutting up the trees, I decided to begin the search for them in this little village. However, these peasants, who belonged to the Daour tribe of Manchus, refused my offers for work but agreed to lodge our labourers in their houses. Wet even this much was of very definite advantage, for it enabled us to have a supply of food right at the edge of the forest, when our work should begin. On the following day I returned to Harbin and busied myself with the immediate organization of the enterprise. This took me at the outset to the Chinese town, Fu Chia Tien, where the native element in this new and pulsating great Russian railroad centre in the heart of northern Manchuria swarmed in tremendous crowds, lived in the hastily built houses and inns of the growing settlement and overflowed in the poorer quarters into the most mis- erable and unkempt of hovels and holes. It was a matter of common knowledge, during these war days especially, antennae TRASSEM ewe werner a . << 69 an . Ma EEE ARM GREER EME 34, deed BE Tita aa we s ee esLeno Hitt 5x See aes ne ee Aes GS aU IEEH 48 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON that it was far from safe for a well-dressed individual to frequent certain sections of the town, where hunghutze bands, operating in the neighbourhood of Harbin, often had their headquarters or, at least, lodged spies and scouts. At this period of the Russo-Japanese War the place gave the appearance of just a huge village with only the flags above the Yamen to accord to it the more for- midable status of an important seat of the local govern- ment. However squalid in appearance, it was in reality a centre of great commercial activity and of considerable political importance. When I returned to it sixteen years later, in the summer of 1921 after my escape from Mon- golia, I could hardly recognize the former town. Four- storied buildings, streets of well-built shops, theatres, the imposing residence of the local Taotai, temples, great warehouses and all the other attributes of a great town were there even to droskies, automobiles and rickshaws. I had been given the address of a Chinese merchant, Tung Ho Shan, who provided the Railway Administra- tion with the labourers it required. Finding him in his shop, I quickly arranged with him for the despatch to Udzimi on the very next morning of three hundred wood-cutters. When, in response to his caution to me never to engage labourers except through him, I smiled a bit ironically, he gravely warned me: “Don’t think it is just a question of profit for me! Far from that. When I supply you with labourers, I send you only such men as are personally known to us or to other reliable firms and for whose character we can vouch. If you engage men at random, you may easily be employing hunghutzes and may have endless trouble with them.” Having arranged with Tung Ho Shan that I should be in Udzimi two days after the men had already beenINDO THE HORBS® 49 installed there, I went at once to the task of finding the necessary technical assistants and succeeded in locating two among the staff of the Chinese Eastern Railway. One was named Kazik and the other Samsonoff, both of them from the mining district of the Urals and ac- quainted almost from childhood with the work of char- coal burning. They were both young men but of quite opposite characteristics. Kazik was almost a giant. I do not recall ever having seen anyone with such enormous shoulders and breast, with the exception of my compan- ion in Mongolia, the agronome whom I described in the account of my journeyings through that land. In spite of his size, Kazik was spare and his body seemed but a bundle of pliant leather thongs. His movements were graceful and quick; his blue eyes snapped with vivacity and courage; while his face was nearly always cheery and frank. In contrast, Samsonoff was short, with light, curly hair, a gentle, melancholy expression and big, dreamy brown eyes. Both of them at once attracted me, so that I immediately requested the Railway Admin- istration to put them at my disposal. On the very next day we all went together in my ser- vice car to Udzimi. On the way I learned that Kazik was an enthusiastic hunter; and, as I had already peered into the thick Manchurian taiga, I promised myself many hunting pleasures. In such a wild country a good com- panion is not only a very agreeable, but a quite indis- pensable, adjunct. From my chats with them I gathered that Kazik and Samsonoff had been acquainted for a long time and had lived in close and amicable relations. After my assistants had become a little less formal toward me, Samsonoff took me aside one day and con- fided to me: “Sir, I have been married for a year and it will be Nb bien bed Si tl : ei SEs UOTE eRwy TUN TIPRA LAR AT LET Ee ET nT ee el el cra tinkeenabencnced ope hsv sch iain ee EEA RE SANE sen aocada sate Met Sere ARATE 50 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON very difficult for me to be separated from my wife. I shall ask your permission to bring her to Udzimi as soon as the work is in full swing and living quarters can be provided.” Seeing the supplicatory look in the eyes of the beauti- ful youth, emphasized by his trembling lips, I immedi- ately gave my consent; but at the same time I made another distinct observation. Samsonoff was talking with me in a low voice, almost a whisper. Swinging round unexpectedly, I discovered Kazik with his face turned away from us but with his head held tense in the effort to catch our conversation at the other end of the car. Asis so frequently the case in my relations with my fellow-beings, I seemed to sense some deep, personal trouble between these two young men to whom Fate had united me. Chatting on with Samsonoff, I soon learned that he had made the acquaintance of his wife in Harbin, where she worked as a typist in the administration office of the railway, and that it was through Kazik, his friend from childhood, that he had first met her. “And is Kazik also married?” I asked. “No!” exclaimed Samsonoff. ‘“Kazik will not marry young, as I have.” “Why not?” “Because,” whispered the boy, as he glanced cautiously toward his friend, “Kazik is a proud being, full of am- bition and demands much of life.” “I don’t understand. Please explain,” I said, much interested by the suggestions of Samsonoff. “Kazik is the son of a simple labourer, but he declares he will attain to a high station in life. He studies ener- getically, works all the time and pushes ahead every- where it is possible. I really don’t know when he sleeps.INTO THE FOREST 51 He has sworn to himself that he will eventually be rich, learnéd and equal to the best around him. He considers a wife would be a hindrance in his plans and, therefore, he will not marry.”’ As he spoke these last words, Sam- sonoff lowered his head and sighed. Here our conver- sation stopped. A few hours later we arrived at the station of Udzimt and my car was detached from the train and run into a siding. Immediately a little, thin, Cossack sergeant, named Shum, presented himself to me and announced that he had received telegraphic orders from Harbin to provide me with a military escort in the territory we were to work, and added that Sergeant Lisvienko with eight Cossacks had already been despatched to Ho Lin to await my orders. I learned also from Sergeant Shum that my Chinese labourers had already arrived. Part of them were lodged with the villagers, while for the other they had already begun the erection of two sheds with heated k’angs. Soon we reached Ho Lin and took up quarters in the house of the headman of the village, who also arranged for the storage of our equipment near by. At the village I was met by the elderly, red-haired Cos- sack, Lisvienko, wearing the Cross of St. George which he had received during the Boxer trouble in 1900, when a Russian detachment from the Amur army under the command of General Linievitch did such valiant service at Tientsin and joined in the march to Peking. The sergeant’s eight Cossacks ranged themselves in front of my temporary quarters and presented arms. That same evening I selected the sites for the charcoal ovens and parcelled out the work between Kazik and Samsonoff. The first was to prepare the place for the stoves and to construct them, while the second was to — TAA SRAM a aE pie cep ne vere te = I SA Bibs caries ed eA L ey 1 ae =e weesh eit REN RETIN atte 52 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON superintend the felling of the trees and their transport to the ovens. At the very outset I realized that we should have to construct a narrow-gauge railway into the forest just as soon as we had cut off the trees within easy hauling dis- tance. With these thoughts of the ultimate extent of our task, I was able, when writing my report to Harbin on the very first evening after my arrival on the property, to hear the ring of the axes, the shouts of the workers and the crashings of the falling trees as certain assurance that we had at least made a rapid start toward our distant goal. When the answer to my report arrived from Harbin, directing me to come there to discuss the question of the railroad, several ovens were already in operation on the place. These were the regular Ural ovens, in the proto- types of which the forests of the manufacturing districts in the Urals had been almost entirely consumed. For me, in my capacity of chemist and economist, this wanton method of exploitation of the forest wealth was crimi- nally barbarous; and I consequently decided to try to construct a brick oven that would permit continuous fir- ing and would conserve the by-products of pitch for the use of the army. I learned that there was a Chinese brick-kiln at the next station along the line from Udzim1, so that the necessary brick could be easily obtained. While the Ural ovens had been under construction, barracks for the labourers and houses for my assistants and the Cossacks were also prepared. These were the usual Chinese fang-tzu minus the k’ang and fitted with ordinary stoves and European kitchens. PR a renter ter TEE PE PASTRIES A a we Peeters PP A OEE iar IA ies its ReaAat aks PHASE BLA RID AES eg ANO RES dal sa gRR ERS HtCHAPTER V A DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS Y trip to Harbin with my plans for the railroad and for the big brick oven kept me in town two weeks. Kazik telegraphed regularly his reports on the work, from which I knew that the undertaking was steadily expanding, that about forty Ural ovens were already in operation, turning out thirty tons of charcoal daily, that the staff and labourers were in their quarters and that work on the railway had been commenced, as twelve miles of old rails, an old locomotive and ten flat cars had already arrived. On my return to Udzimi I was delighted to be able to ride out to Ho Lin on our own branch line, in spite of the fact that the locomotive, running on the unballasted track, rattled in every part and proceeded very gingerly. On nearing the river, I did not recognize Ho Lin, for a new village stood beside and dominated the old one. There were the long thatched buildings for Chinese quar- ters, my own house with its tall, protruding stove-pipe chimneys and a veranda over, which the men had trailed a transplanted Manchurian -hop ving, and stores and warehouses with coal, comrmiésariat supplies and tools all about them, whiie in ‘the distance. siioked the lines of ovens built by my assistants: The Manchurian jungle, this dense thicket of tree-trunks and bushes, bound to- gether in defence of its solitude with Virginia creeper, 53 5 vase Oe = Ve “ FOAM R SS apdead ath see oh Sede! cos Ye cet bs Shy t wp se memqeis ey yh Lie Hane oi eg tl a OE” IN oF eEnee pak pea a oe ew eT HEE sit a re hecho eae Sere Ee ner ee VLA TY z Boa A kat. = yigmreeer ee ce = neal eT AES PUTA A aM bila it at te xb dads ena SSRIAuk bor at Sipe beerapd RE Fie va gla it bted Si an winked pee eae 54 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON hops and other parasitic vines, seemed to have taken fright at the coming of man and to have fled back to the mountains, leaving only the naked, yellow earth behind. Trees had already been felled for some distance, and I realized at once how well our prompt decision for a rail- road had been justified. It was evident at a glance that within a very few weeks we should be compelled to trans- port the trees a considerable distance to the ovens. The storage sheds were filled to capacity with charcoal and great heaps of it lay outside, covered with protecting strips of bark that had been taken from the larger trees. We could have begun at once shipping out the much- needed charcoal but were forced to await the completion of a proper roadbed. That first afternoon Samsonoff invited me to his house for tea. On the veranda, also already adorned with a transplanted hop vine, I was met by quite a young woman, Madame Vera, his wife. She was a strong con- trast to her husband. Whereas Samsonoff had a pale, melancholy face and sad, dreamy eyes under soft ringlets of hair falling well down over his forehead, his wife was the personification of robust health, with gatety pre- dominating in her brilliantly coloured face, her black, fiery eyes and sensual lips. They took me through their quarters, composed of a small entrance hall and two rooms. The mud walls, ceiling and floor.could aye made.the most cheerless im- pression, were it: not for the.saving adornment of woman’s hand, which, with desire to guide it, can always make a cosy nest in ‘a Chinese fang-tzu,:a railway car, a ship’s cabin or even a’ prison cell." The floor was covered with Chinese mats, which were also used as hangings for the walls and carried the decorations of artificial flowers, postal cards and photographs. Pieces of bright clothA DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS 55 covered the homemade chairs and benches, while gaudy bamboo and glass bead curtains, a contrastingly white tablecloth with a shining samovar and a Chinese vase filled with wildflowers combined to work the miracle of changing mud-plastered rooms into a home. I spent a pleasant evening in these neat quarters of the Samsonoffs, chatting over many matters, local and dis- tant. My evening’s pleasure would have been much greater, had it not been disturbed by the impressions forced in upon me through my involuntary observations of the three people seated before me—three, because in the course of the evening we had been joined by the broad-shouldered Kazik. As I told them something of my travels across Europe and Asia, as well as of some of the unusual characters I had met in my wanderings, I saw how the eyes of Kazik gleamed and how his lips tightened with something be- tween determination and obstinacy, until finally he burst out: “How fortunate you are! You travel and you are trained to know what is worth observing. You learn more and more and afterwards you use all this knowl- edge to improve your position in society; while we? We, the children of peasants and workmen, are obliged to gain unaided, as best we can, knowledge and respect among men. This is a social injustice !”’ “How could you know and say that knowledge has come easily to me?” I asked, surprised and astonished at this outburst. “T do not know this,” he answered, “and I did not mean you personally; but I was speaking of the whole noble and educated class. I respect it but, at the same time, I envy and hate it. I will gain everything which this class, born to intelligence, possesses and I will sail re a ee aa hee oe ekpi a paud. fries ~ pee nin pies tt ase ST TOONSpaneaey ab * Lith 50 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON on high seas. I will prove then what I know and how I can live. No one has yet seen such a life as I shall show them!” My astonishment increased. Whence came to this son of the Urals this craving for knowledge and for the in- telligence to enjoy life to the full? “Do you seek real learning only to enable you to lead an extravagant, gay lifer” I asked him, curious as to what he would reply. “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “In my child- hood I gazed into the palaces of our Ural industrial magnates, where I might not enter, and in those early days I took an oath that I should one day myself have a palace even more magnificent than any of theirs; for its owner and builder would be myself, a workman’s son! But, with thinking, I came to realize that, as a labourer, I should never be rich and, even if I might by chance acquire wealth, I should not know how to profit by it. I consequently decided to study and become a man of the highest culture.” During this speech of Kazik I framed the thought that intellect alone would not be enough for the full enjoy- ment of life, about which this minor railway official in the forest at Udzimi dreamed at dreams. Besides knowl- edge one must possess in addition innate comprehension of the beautiful for which the greatest efforts and learn- ing cannot compensate. But I did not give expression to the thought, because I did not wish in any way to rob this young man of his enthusiasm for work and progress toward perfection, and as I was of the opinion that, with time, wisdom and life itself might direct his dreams into other channels not so wholly egoistic. While Kazik was pronouncing to us this confession, my attention was drawn to the fact that Madame Vera cole Rs ee te * SR yrA DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS 57 did not once take her eyes from his face during the whole wild outburst and that her cheeks seemed to flush more vividly than ever. Only from time to time she glanced at the expressionless—one might even say bored —face of her husband, and once a piteous smile stole into her expression, as her eyes darkened for a moment. “Ah, you are drawing comparison,” I mused. “You dream of great things,’ commented the young woman, “but will you succeed?” “Ves!” answered Kazik; and this short word stood out like a challenge. “And then you will search for the most beautiful, the richest, the most magnificent woman in the world and will marry her?” asked the young bride with a playful smile. “The most beautiful and the most magnificent—yes,”’ was the reply, “but not the richest. I shall not need money.” Then I made a new observation. Kazik looked stead- ily for a moment at the face of the woman, with evident warmth in his gaze scanned her whole figure and turned dreamily away to some unimportant object in the corner of the room. Madame Vera nervously smoothed her hair and laughed, as it seemed to me, too loudly and too unnaturally. I was conscious that Chance had again made me wit- ness to the life struggle of individuals quite foreign to me and that I should behold minor, or even foolish, events that would bulk big in the lives of these three in- dividuals and might entirely dominate their happiness and fortunes. ‘These people, accidentally brought into my life by the community of business interests, might easily have remained unknown and of no particular in- terest to me, but Fate decided otherwise. ae a] i Rae NS sa ph ad woken woes AUT IS eL ie cibees zs FIRH eM ir eee SEIU rete ee FSU _ alates te Tat 5.3 t etal seid Ca tee pty Lh Ge Pesala Sires RTE pepe pai unre inl ma — FTA a SRAM ems. at ae NEUVET ONS ph ps pow ee CUS ETTENee e SEAR a iRT ec ippEenice hs te me GORA oH Reis ot 5 wih eiite ie * ~ PPR AEE ee IT eee, ETI Ee Pe Te Pee EF TE Pe ESTE KE ITT ees 1) er Seep e 2 iter taal se mate el acoed aor Stace ones a Deere teres eae Py sst Doone Torry 58 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON With the branch line in shape to transport the ma- terials, we shortly began the construction of the new brick oven. The work went quickly and well, thanks to the skilful Chinese workmen whom Tung Ho Shan had sent me from Harbin. Taking advantage of our proximity to the forests, I often went hunting. A young Cossack, Rikoff, who was a fine woodsman and a tireless walker, always accom- panied me, and together we tramped a large part of the neighbouring country. In the course of these excursions we crossed the timber-covered divide and entered the valley of the Mutan, which flows northward to join the Sungari at Sansing. Along the river we found some villages of the Daour Manchus on the left bank and those of the Tungutzes on the right. We remarked the interesting fact that, though the Manchus were quite like the Chinese in appearance and, in fact, indistinguishable from them in the eyes of the ordinary observer, the Tungutzes had retained their markedly different racial appearance. These latter had long been a tribe of hunters and warriors, whose forbears in past centuries had caused the masters of Peking more than once to scan timorously the northern boundary, when rumours came of movements in the camps and villages of these Tungutzes tribes. These inhabitants of the Mutan villages were big broad-shouldered men, quick and skilful of movement and proud, calm and distinctly friendly in bearing. The villages seemed poor and gave one more the impression of ruins than of habitable houses, and this in spite of the fact that within these houses whole fortunes were gath- ered in the form of sable, skunk, marten, ermine, fox and squirrel skins, which were the spoils of their huntsA DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS 59 and were usually sold to the Chinese merchants and for- eign buyers in Ninguta. From this valley of the Mutan the fairly large moun- tain range of Kentei Alin extends eastward, and farther south another, called Loye Lin, takes off. From thirty to forty-five miles behind the Loye Lin lay the Korean frontier, along which the nearest town was the Chinese border station of Hunchun. This whole region between Loye Lin and the Korean frontier was a source of great difficulty to the Russian authorities during the war. It was a well-known fact that large gangs of Chinese hung- hutzes, under the leadership of the famous bandit chief- tain, Chang Tso-lin, refuged there; and it was only after the war that it became known that this hunghutze leader and his bands were in the pay of Japan to make scouting expeditions and to harass the Russian armies along their extended eastern flank. In the valley of the Mutan, Rikoff and I found large kaoliang and barley fields. The banks of the river, as well as those of its tributary streams, were lined with a thick growth of bushes, from which many pheasants and a few grey partridges broke. We brought in so many of these birds that our Ho Lin table was always well provided with them; but the hunting itself was not really interesting, as the birds were so plentiful that the shoot- ing was monotonously easy. We were much more attracted by the Kentei Alin Mountains, along whose foothills we had seen herds of small deer and, on the stream banks, traces of larger ones. Twice Rikoff and I saddled our ponies for a trip into these mountains. Our first expedition was not very successful from the standpoint of hunting, as we did not even see traces of deer. While making a day of it AAS WF oA? case ii = 0s a er WR PI ee TE Pe EL a EAA ste! - wt yg Pas oa — r* Series pier ttt bth eh TE vars Nae ek eee pn OE Rin =A AE FAPOORSR EER ae TS rar re spas ete my fi hea GES RANT eyeeoe eh 60 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON shooting ducks, which paddled along the reeds and bushes along the shores of the mountain lakes, I also made two interesting observations. At various points I had to make my way through growths of hazel, and sev- eral times in these bushes heard sharp flappings of wings and the cries of flushing birds. Though the call seemed quite familiar to me, yet I could not name the bird. Finally, just as I was about to leave one of these hazel brakes, a dark brown bird with a long beak flushed within sight of me. “Can it be a woodcock?” I asked myself incredulously, as I fired. On picking up my bird, I found that it was, sure enough, an ordinary woodcock, the first one I had ever seen or heard of in Manchuria. Then I wandered around for some time in the brakes, but, as all the birds rose far away from me, I succeeded in bringing down only two more and had great trouble in finding these in the thick bushes and high grass. The second observation was of quite a different char- acter. The Kentei Alin Mountains are entirely wild, the best proof of which is the fact that the Chinese search here for ginseng, this mysterious medicinal plant grow- ing in the virgin forest or in the wildest mountain glades, where the mighty prince of the jungle, the tiger, exercises his dominion and guard over the magic root. It was, therefore, naturally to be expected that few, if any, traces of human beings would be found. But traces were numerous—and what traces! We frequently found the spoors of iron-shod horses along the marshy banks of the mountain streams and on the sandy shoals, even, in one place, a fire that had just been left and was not quite burned out, near which, among cleanly gnawed bones and some unfinished Asioa mi-tzu gruel, I picked up a carbine Sas a RE SIRT TE TS EEA DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS 61 cartridge with Japanese characters on it and an empty conserve tin with a Japanese label. What could it mean? Who was prowling here so near to our undertakings and whither was he bound? For a time these questions re- mained unanswered. During a subsequent hunting expedition on the slopes of Kentei Alin, Rikoff and I stumbled upon a large herd of wild boar, numbering some fifteen head and plunging southward through the thicket at a tremendous pace. In answer to our leaden command to their front rank one of the animals went prone. As we were busy cutting hams from it, the Cossack suddenly raised his head and asked in a startled voice: ‘Did you hear that? It was a bullet and not far away.” We stopped to listen and soon caught the sound of a far-away volley and the well-known whistle of bullets through the branches. One took a big splinter from the trunk of a broken tree hard by. “They are aiming at us!” exclaimed Rikoff. “They must be the fellows with the iron-shod horses, but they certainly are not hunghutzes, for the hunghutzes never shoe their horses. Could it be, perhaps, one of our patrols?” In the evening, when I told Kazik and Samsonoff of our experience, they were both strongly of the opinion that bands of hunghutzes were roaming about in the neighbouring forests. I decided to make a report to the General Staff and dismissed the matter for the moment from my mind. Afterwards, that same evening, I went out to make a round of the nearest ovens and, on my return from this, passed back near the barracks of the labourers at Ho Lin and close to the quarters of my assistants. Behind these a ee i) PEN a PARTE iapEs wb ieaee BS gis ab ATTRA IAA wae pid Led vame wes ty segs. iw co = a arse 2h oe Shes ioe Pee CL Pa HG EE PTE as pasaniesh eimeaheime hen eeaenaatd - eee ib enn RUE si diaeT | — ——— er a eT ie AM Swans eae pea IA TDN RE eT ISI REPTET PET Sah Tit eats OSnQuIMASHNIAABERe Senne bie ei BA be ci maths: ae. in of ses a sretetegete es Mak pe nein CURL THIaRA Oa, GRR =e 62 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON houses bushes stretched down to the bank of a small stream that ran through the village. As I was making my way along this, I heard a low conversation from the opposite bank and recognized the voice of Kazik. Ina moment I made out his figure in the half-light and saw that he was gesticulating and talking to Madame Vera, who was seated on the bank. It was already rather dark, but I could discern the bent figure of the woman and could hear her low, piteous sobs. Kazik became silent and then Madame Samsonoff asked in a low, halt- ing voice: “You value your own happiness so much more than mine, however much I love you?” Kazik remained silent for a moment, then answered gruffly: “T also love you, but I must win for myself a free and broader life. I must, for otherwise I shall never know what calm and happiness are. Now I am but as your husband is; then I shall be something entirely different.” “And this is your last word?” the woman asked des- perately. “Yes!” rang the hard, severe voice of Kazik. “We must forget about our feelings until I have conquered lite,’ I was not mistaken then. Here between these three individuals were concealed the elements of a tragic drama, ready to break loose at any time and take full toll of their happiness. I felt that they were spiritually pure but that the inexorable hand of Fate had touched them and that the sign of misfortune was already on their foreheads. On the following day, while I was inspecting the work in the forest, I came upon Samsonoff, looking pale and with eyes that were red and tired. In unwonted silenceA DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS 63 he mechanically showed me over the piles of wood and went away. Then, near the ovens, I met Kazik and found him serious and thoughtful. Speaking in a trem- bling voice, he gave evidence of great agitation. In re- sponse to my question as to what the matter was, he answered, after considerable hesitation and musing: “T had a painful conversation with Samsonoff and was frank with him, only to regret it later. I told him the truth, in which there was nothing bad or wrong. Sam- sonoff will not believe what I said and suspects the worst.” As he finished, he pulled off his cap and threw it on the ground like an impetuous boy. “You talked about Madame Vera?” I asked. He was too much roused and irritated to show aston- ishment over my question and answered without hesi- tancy: “Yes, everyone can love or hate! The only thing is not to act basely, sinfully or treacherously. Nothing threatens Samsonoff. He has also but to work, to study and to struggle, and he will surely reach the great, broad highroad of life before ever I do. Then his wife will not leave him. But, as it is, he only curses and suspects things which are not and never will be, all of which is bad, sir, very bad!” I realized fully that life had at present a foreboding aspect for my assistants, yet I seemed powerless to help them. Two days later I received a telegram, calling me to Harbin, where I spent about a week. On my return to Udzimi I was surprised and a little astonished to find that neither of my assistants came to meet me at the station. I proceeded directly to Ho Lin, where Kazik soon entered my car, pale and thin, with a feverish fire suffusing his eyes. Under his arm he had a portfolio full of papers and, in a dry official manner, began to make - on — re gap SRR eo Sean 7 Cer cbeplninperete co SY : cs FEU were _ aren «| sitheeepag esses pls pena thhle ded se dak ioTkan ny ried La phon ep ook rerepa.ices Dh iis rela pai64 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON | his report. He spoke without precision at times and ex- | hibited much confusion, often rubbing his brow and lick- | ing his feverish lips. As he opened his portfolio to show me some docu- ments, I saw a Browning tucked away in it. Kazik laid it on a chair and began to hand me the papers. While a I was glancing through these, the crash of a shot sud- denly rent the air and a hot wave struck my face. I jumped, then became motionless with fright. Out of the momentary haze appeared the deadly pale face of Kazik, gazing at me with wide-open eyes full of despair. A mocking smile tightened his lips, baring his teeth, flecked with blood. But my attention was caught, not by this tragic mask, but by the breast of Kazik. He worea red shirt, on which a dark stain was spreading. It was only a moment before the blood soaked through the ma- terial and began dropping to the floor. By the time | had recovered control of myself and had seated Kazik in an armchair, there was already a telltale pool saturat- ing the rug. AsI cut his shirt open with my desk shears, I found that the bullet had entered his left breast just above his heart and, discovering no exit, naturally in- ferred that it had lodged against his shoulderblade. The left arm was cold and inert. I quickly applied a first dressing and telephoned the station to get in touch im- | mediately with the nearest hospital. Fortunately a Red | Cross Hospital had been established just the previous week at the next station along the line. Ina few hours an ambulance car arrived and took Kazik away. ‘The next day an operation was performed and the bullet ex- tracted, leaving Kazik to struggle through long weeks with threatening death. Tuberculosis developed in the perforated lung, forcing him to remain in the hospital until the autumn and then to leave only for a Govern- Pere SRI Peo a ] ar ee i Potted Tete Lor te Li pose ae oid bese eae nl al lelaA DRAMA OF THE CHARCOAL OVENS 65 ment health station in Russia. When I saw him off at the Harbin station, he was in a sad state with his left hand quite inert, hanging cold and motionless at his side. Continual and piercing pain was his lot, clearly reflected in the thin and almost transparent face with its pale and parched lips. He was coughing and smiled in a rather shamed manner, as he said good-bye to me just before the train started. “This is the end of my dreams!” When I tried to calm and cheer him, he only shook his head and repeated: “No, sir, this is the end! JI am a cripple and there is only one help for me now, only one.” He looked beyond me where he seemed to find the infinite, and added slowly: “Death, only death!” He went away. For one short second I saw once more his pale face and then it disappeared. I never saw it again and I never shall, for I learned a year later that Kazik had died of consumption in a hospital, lonely and poor, because as a cripple he could find no work and had long ago used up his meagre savings. Now, when on the great tapestry of memory the rather unusual character of Kazik stands out before me, I can- not really answer this question of how the accident in my car at Ho Lin actually occurred. While in hospital after the operation, Kazik averred that he struck the re- volver by mistake, that it fell on the floor and went off. When I heard this, I recalled the pale, distorted face of KKazik before the accident and asked myself: ‘Was it not a suicide?” But Kazik took his secret with him to the grave. It was not many weeks after the accident to Kazik that peace and happiness returned to the little home of the Samsonoffs. The young husband was gayer and more Z vi romans ~ so a cares ‘ Joon ? ix em —x, a = eRe f ia dt ae os 37u ¥ wee ee et Fipwast vby¢ vecaee =f EIT i ee .' sore ere peqnbelstnnecs wy pas hit ieh baat xed Racha hha Ss ae) peesestar a pre ph bag eb - S CER PY wuz 7 paren n SEE eT rae shiebecha ees mabe Dept bles iri i Lips sat hshoae LAT OES BET wacehd BERIT stats = idreer ae i. GU EBERES Rog Opec SDA Ga saa oI saat te Dirhie ana SSUMPULT duia acted dash Sea Ge oe : ti x Bae ates fie ie are 66 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON vivacious, while Madame Vera looked on him with more and more favour. They never spoke of Kazik; and once when I tried to introduce the subject, they turned imme- diately to another topic. I realized with poignant force the ruthless and heartless law of animal and human na- ture. When Kazik was strong, full of enthusiasm for life, and dangerous, he was loved or hated: when the merciless bullet had robbed his body of its life-blood and strength, he was put out of the heart and of the thoughts as a spoiled and broken thing, of no use to anybody. “Poor Kazik,” I often thought, “where are your proud, bold plans and dreams? I wonder, if before your death, cold despair did not possess your stubborn soul?” I was really rather glad when I heard of the death of this man, crippled and beyond hope of recovery. Death ended all his trials, his burdened life and his despair, and possibly also the persisting longing for her, who so quickly and easily banished him from her memory. In the course of a few weeks Samsonoff resigned and returned to Harbin with his wife, who was tired of the jungle, where my ovens struggled with the virgin forest and devoured the bodies of the wood giants just as an extraneous accident devoured the life of Kazik. The human heart can be hard, indifferent and callous; and this is perhaps one unconsciously influencing reason why I do not like big human masses. I found new assistants and our automaton continued to devour. eeeCHAPTER VI TIGERS AND “RED-BEARDS” N the meantime my Cossack, Rikoff, wandered day after day through the forest and always brought home with his game some interesting bits of news. He met suspicious-looking horsemen on Kentei Alin; he was fired at several times and once returned with a perforated hunting bag. For a long time I received no answers to my telegrams regarding these armed bands wandering through our forest, but finally a large detachment of Cossacks was sent us and their scouring expeditions on the slopes of Kentei Alin yielded some unexpected re- sults. The Cossacks had some engagements with small de- tachments of hunghutzes, during which they captured several wounded men. These small groups belonged to a bigger body which, according to the captives, made headquarters near the Korean frontier and which had as its leader a certain Chang Tso-lin, who was proven to be in the pay of the Japanese General Staff. After the Cos- sacks’ initial operations the hunghutges disappeared al- most entirely from our neighbourhood; but one night the sound of crashing glass in my car wakened me with a start. I listened, but nothing further occurred. When I turned out in the morning, I found one of the windows shattered by a bullet which had lodged in the opposite wall of the car. It was a brass one from a carbine of 67 ob ta pe eaand * ‘TS: . seat NPR RER RSH ee aca WA 68 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON large calibre, which my Cossacks recognized as a bullet used by the Chinese army. At first I could not fathom it at all and wondered whether the Chinese had declared war on Russia; but the explanation soon appeared. The leader of the hunghutzes, Chang Tso-lin, was in con- nivance with the Chinese Governors of the Provinces of Fengtien and Kirin and was being supplied by them with Government arms. When this fact was substantiated, the Chinese Viceroy of Manchuria was forced, as a result of Russian diplomatic representations, to resign and leave Moukden. When the headman of Ho Lin heard of my night ex- perience, he came to me and begged that I refrain fron reporting it to the authorities, ashe feared the hunghutzes might take vengeance on his villagers and also that they might try to do me harm, adding that they were already angry with me for having been instrumental in bringing the Cossacks to the place. I acquiesced in the request of the headman but, as a result of his warning and of some patent evidence of bad feeling on the part of certain na- tives around the works, I was always on guard and took the precaution never to go about without a revolver. In the meantime the Army Staff demanded of me ever- increasing quantities of charcoal, which might not have been so bad if the railroad had not done the same, through their insistence that the various railway shops should all be supplied with charcoal. It pressed me hard to comply with these growing demands. Besides the Ural ovens three large brick ones were soon in full swing and a fourth was being constructed farther in the forest. In the area near the ovens the trees were already all cut off, so that our railway was kept very busy transporting the wood from the more distant parts of the concession. At the same time I ordered the construction of a new branch OS eeTIGERS AND “RED-BEARDS” 69 to the outlying forests, all of which forced me to take on new supplies of labourers. As it became impracticable to depend upon Harbin any longer for these increasing numbers, I had to engage whomsoever we could get in Ninguta, Imienpo and Kirin, where my assistants ac- cepted everyone who asked for work without troubling about recommendations or guaranties, which were im- possible to obtain under these conditions of speed and numbers. Each day I visited all of the places where work was going on and personally inspected all the operations. Once, while superintending the construction of an oven on the fringe of the forest, I saw a black-collar thrush (Lurdus torquatus) rise with a sharp cry from some bushes near by, and having my shotgun in my hand, threw it up and dropped the bird. The Chinese, with their enthusiasm for some of the least-expected matters, raised their thumbs in praise of my performance and rushed into the bushes to bring out the spoils. After this the labourers left me little peace, bringing me, every time I appeared with my shotgun near a group of them in the woods, empty bottles and tins and asking me with signs to fire at them as they threw them into the air. They were much impressed with my ability to break the bottles and spatter the tins full of holes, and would clap their hands and jump about like children in their enjoyment of it all. It always seemed to me advisable not to refuse them this pleasure, as the performance served as a good warning to the hunghutze members of our labour gangs. And I had no doubt that we had some of these brigands right among us from many little things that occurred, On one occasion Lisvienko reported the find- ing of arms as well as the unexplained disappearance of some of the men. Matters had come to a point where —————— eae Ft ee rer | nie bl - rm gn aTLET PS ~ onsen ia 1 pe pig. = eRe agbt bee ET A I EN beoei by Skt: epee arti prs sao a Seeman a Pree aioe u TELE WIA Ee witch resoesSietet cers SPEER TUS os oe regs ai as. ee sites ree os TED Beat ca = Hy HAGENS i CNY roe Sot te SPSS Cg ee TAMER ET Soreness ORISSA Eat CHAPTER VII THE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST Os= day I was sitting in my car reading the news- paper accounts of further Russian disasters, when Lisvienko entered, saluted and asked: “May I make a report, sir?” “Go ahead,” I replied. “Bad news, sir! I feel that | understand now whence come these assaults and constant difficulties with the hunghutzes.’ He came nearer and continued in a whis- per: “Every day I make the round of all the patrols. This morning, when I was riding along the bank of the Ho Lin to the new cutting, I caught the sound of shod hoofs on stones and in a moment made out a horseman riding rapidly toward the mountains. Though the man wore a Chinese cap and ma-kua-tzu (short jacket), he had below these red trousers and riding boots with spurs and car- ried a carbine. I am sure he was a Japanese cavalry- 9 man. I jumped to my feet at this news and questioned his statement. “No, sit,” he answered decidedly, “T have too keen sight to have been mistaken. I have decided to follow this matter up to-day, as I remember exactly the direc- tion the Japanese took. There are some small Chinese opium plantations in that section of the mountains and I intend to scout them out.” 78 ep y") oe] Le oT Sri OS Weer oe eaTHE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST 79 “Whom will you take with your’ “Nobody, for I am afraid the young soldiers will babble before the Chinese and thus spoil the game. 1 shall go alone, as though I were hunting.” I thought a moment and told him that I would go with him, which evidently pleased him very much. “It will be much more agreeable for me. I thank you humbly, sir.” Soon we crossed the river together and entered the woods. After going some distance we found the hoof- prints of a single horse on a marshy road that wound among the bushes. “Tf I could only meet him!” Lisvienko mumbled, as he followed the tracks. “He would not escape me, as he did at first, when I was afraid to shoot for fear of frightening the bird. When he gets tame, I shall cer- tainly bag him.” We rode single file, peering into the forest all around and occasionally stopping to listen. Nothing indicated the presence of any human being. Somewhere a thrush sang and from the depths of the forest came the tapping of a woodpecker; a stream gurgled along over its stony path. After wandering for a long time through the woods we came upon two Chinese houses surrounded with poppy fields, in which two Chinese with their sunflower-like straw hats worked among the ripening seed pods. As we came up to them, Lisvienko asked whether any people had recently passed the settlement. The information he received was evidently very important, for his eyes flashed and he led right off to the other side of the clear- ing, where we again entered the thick wood before he stopped to translate for me what the Chinese had told him. As we almost at once emerged again into a more erry Sree MEARE A plod Loppers tf har omnes 235 ‘eae ee ST Ses: sheesay harsh esies ae ————— Ns ae : WRAL AM A ELa a Cres Path Ay 4 MINUET Sa hippy Ce ee eaten eee cea Pas NR ee se ones oes Gera ae uridine opr rosea a rR aA Rebate MSD ie: sy SUUINEO TY Leer Paaie a tae See eet oe wet ee Le er 80 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON open place, where a fire had recently cut a path through the forest, I felt instinctively that I was being watched from somewhere. Following along behind the sergeant, I had had scarcely time to realize my impression and act upon it, when a shot split the silence of the woods and the tenseness of our nerves. Lisvienko went down with a curse, pressing his hand over his hip. I do not remem- ber how I found myself behind a tree, looking out. At some distance away, just beyond the farther edge of the burned-over ground, I caught sight of a Japanese cav- alryman in the act of throwing the cartridge from his carbine. He had not time to complete his reloading be- fore my own bullet sent him down. At almost the same instant another shot rang out on the right, where I saw a second horseman riding off at full speed. Though he was far from me, I sent several shots after him from my Henel before he entirely disappeared. When everything had been quiet for a time, I carefully scouted out the place and discovered the saddled horse of the fallen man tied to a tree. I led him to Lisvienko, whom I found sitting up and still pressing his bleeding hip with his hand. A careful inspection of his wound left little doubt but that the bone was smashed. After dressing the injury as well as I could, I succeeded with great diffi- culty in placing him in the saddle and in conveying him back to my car. And thus one more victim went from Ho Lin to the Red Cross hospital to complete the fatal trio foretold by Zvon. The sergeant developed blood-poisoning and died in great pain. After this, Sergeant Shum from Udzimi took com- mand of the Cossacks in Ho Lin. Then, as a result of my report on this incident, a squadron of dragoons were sent us and scouzed over the whole of the Kentei Alin,THE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST 81 as well as the range of Loye Lin. On their way they fought and dispersed several large bands of hunghutzes, returned to the valley of the Mutan and worked back along its course to Ninguta, but nowhere in their circling movement discovered any Japanese. After this, compara- tive calm reigned in our little world; the Chinese became obedient and worked well; and nothing indicated the presence of these banditti, who brought really more trouble and disorder than danger into our midst. Profiting by these peaceful conditions, several natural- ist friends of mine, who were able to secure short leave from their duties in the army, joined me in making ex- cursions into the forest round about. As my companions were not hunters, our expeditions had an entirely peace- ful character but were far from devoid of lively interest: for, roaming these Manchurian forests, we found quite a number of curious specimens of the flora and fauna of the region. On the fringe of a small marsh, where nearly every bush hid a snipe or a yellow-leg, one of my friends stopped and began examining closely a small clump of moss. After inspecting it for a considerable time, he turned to us and said: “This is a very rare species of moss, supposed to be found only on the north and south slopes of the Hima- layas and commonly called ‘holy moss,’ though its botan- ical designation is Cassiope tetragona. The Buddhists use it in the manufacture of liturgical candles, twisting it into wicks which they dip in resin or wax, and adding as perfume either sandalwood, vanilla or saffron. When lighted, they burn very slowly, until the last bit of resin or wax has been entirely consumed. The moss is a nat- ural punk.” We dried some of the plant near a fire and experi- TLS ey TTP Sk a a a — a en ITN IRAE ~ Tair capers. re eit Series —_ <= LT AAA nore ei kpookncsledlig hsv 3 25a bala bai elnded tarde otto thal ees sa va PRET Te ee, areee bei eh Lrt te ALE toh ta ene ea ae Pith Pr ibe 8 an itt pe, po cenpasny Lin SRS RAND on aaa tey: areshas be eid ele PENA HU ies SHARAN br er Saeed Sires — boing we y he De re tear i 82 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON mented with it. The first good spark we could get from striking a knife against a stone lighted this unusual tin- der, which continued to burn slowly until it was totally consumed. The next day our botanist, while following through a deep, heavily shaded gorge, with a cry of pleasure bent down and pulled up a plant by the roots. It had long, quite pointed serrate leaves, not unlike those of the white elm. When we had cleaned the root, we found it bore an uncanny resemblance to a human body with the head, neck, trunk, legs and arms clearly defined, and we recognized at once the fabulous root of Asia, called by the Chinese “ginseng,” by the Mongolians “fatil,” by the Persians “mandragora” and in the Latin “panacea genseng.” We tasted the root and found it sharp, peppery as ginger and pricking to the tongue. We searched through all the gorge and on the adjacent mountain slopes but could not discover a second specimen. After our fruit- less quest we realized how difficult the search for this lonely root could be, especially with its attendant possi- bilities of attack by tigers. The faithful Buddhist or the follower of Lao-tze has before him, when he goes to hunt for the magic root, still one more encounter, that with the evil demon who defends the precious plant. A few days afterward, during an excursion to the east- ern slopes of the Chang-Kuan-Tsai Lan, just before sun- set we were making our way along a stony road that was endeavouring to fit itself to the twists and turns of a winding stream. Suddenly a disagreeable odour, like the smell of sweating horses, struck us, growing rapidly heavier and more obnoxious. As though by magic, | was instantly transported back to a journey | had made through the Caucasus along the shores of the Black Sea, during which this same pungent odour had once envel-oped me. We then discovered the source of the smell to be a worm of the species Julus, of a milky-pink colour, nearly four inches in length and having its habitat in de- caying leaves. When the Julus senses danger, it emits a few drops of fluid having this extremely powerful and disagreeable odour, and serving to frighten off the ene- mies of the worm, such as birds, moles and snakes. I remember how Dr. N. S. Abaza, with whom I made this journey in the Caucasus, told me that birds will forsake the places defended by these Julus through their ingen- iously manufactured poisonous gas. My friend and teacher, Professor Zaleski, also found some of these worms and, after studying the fluid secreted by them, pronounced it to be musk. This fluid, musk, which is a result of physiological activities of certain ro- dents and of some species of bucks, has, when fresh, a disagreeable odour and only after a long exposure to the air takes on valuable aromatic qualities which have won for it a place in the perfume industry. Professor Zaleski, essentially unique and original in many of his reactions, went so far as to fabricate perfumes from the Julus fluid; and, although no one claimed for them rivalry with the products of Houbigant, Coty and Piver, it is not recorded that they frightened anyone away from the individuals who used them. Once we were within the protective zone of this Man- churian Julus, we began searching for the worm and finally found him attached to the bark of a young elm. He resembled closely his far-away Caucasian relative but carried on his pinkish-white back several brown spots. Having with us no suitable equipage in which so talented a member of the lowly order of larvee should travel and fearing that too intimate contact with the frightened worm would make us objects of aversion to everybody, THE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST 83a OBRGANTAN THR Gay is sana eet pate Siete 5 ce ae Lap MASE ye 5 a 84 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON we went away and left in peace this peripatetic factory of perfume and poison gas. After this excursion my friends spent several days more with me, during the last of which the hunghutzes once again reminded us of their existence, when a Chi- nese, who had come from Harbin to pay the workers, was captured on his way to the barracks and disappeared forever, without leaving a single trace. At the same time a labourer’s barracks out in one of the distant corners of the concession was attacked by a band that wounded the Cossack on guard and took all the savings of the Chinese workmen. Immediately following upon this about two hundred of the men asked to be released, and I was obliged to go to Harbin to find new workers and to ask again for an increase in our patrol. On my arrival I noticed a great deal of nervous unrest in the official and civilian circles of the town. The previ- ous hopeful attitude and the confidence in ultimate vic- tory had undergone a marked change. The Russian col- ony at this great centre, having faith in the power of their State, had accepted quietly and calmly the blows dealt by the Japanese to the bottled fleet at Port Arthur and had retained their belief that the army would achieve success on the land. Even when the Japanese torpedoed and sank the cruiser Petropavlovsk right under the forts and thus took the life of the brave Admiral Makaroff, not only held in high esteem by his countrymen as a talented and bold seaman but also well known as an Arctic ex- plorer, the patriotic public still remained calm. However, after the defeat of the Russian forces at Chiu Lien Ch’eng on the Yalu and the continuous northward retreat of both flanks of the long Russian line in southern Man- churia, the confidence of the public began to weaken. In Chinchou on the Liaotung Peninsula the Japanese cap-THE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST 85 tured strong positions from the Russians and began the pressing movement that forced the army of General Fok to retreat to Port Arthur, which had already been cut off from contact with the forces of General Kuropatkin that were now being concentrated at Liaoyang. Even though the Russian Press and the orders of General Kuropatkin still carried a proud and confident tone, the public awaited with great uncertainty and no little concern the first great battle with the three Japanese armies which were advanc- ing on Liaoyang under the commands of Generals Oku, Nodzu and Kuroki. I had reached Harbin after the battle of Wa Fang Kou, where the Japanese stopped the corps of General Count Stackelberg, who was endeavouring to break through and carry aid to Port Arthur. One heard the indignant comment everywhere that General Stackelberg had his wife with him at the front and also a special car with a cow, and that on hot days he did not leave his headquarters car, which he kept cool and comfortable by having soldiers continually deluge it with buckets of cold water. Of course it was useless to look for great victories from such a leader. When the Japanese, as was to be expected, stopped and dispersed his force, the Count escaped with difficulty and joined the army of Kuropatkin. After this calamity the Russian civil population in the east was much depressed, but the newspapers and the Staff continued to deceive and mislead the public, so that a very large element of it did not know the real truth about the events in the war area. Fresh troops were daily arriving in Manchuria to augment the forces of Kuropatkin. Asa sad welcome to these, I found in Har- bin that all the hospitals were filled with sick and wounded and that the Staff was constantly opening new iabiispipia sedis ed ————— : Pier pu Ravieameeenroneontcros oo — soon rE irr seeasdhie ieee tit Re a - a I a: PPT TTY 2 Fos ~ : er an, pecans = ras be haba siabe Sra mesgsees. re rrirrrcires testates) GRR SDOCRATNGRE ives. Oi eb reece — a aed 322) eee PRA AAAS Satehy oh bk a 86 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON ones, even closing schools and commandeering their buildings for this purpose. After having completed my business in town, I re- turned to Udzimi and found everything as I had left it, save that Sergeant Shum confidentially informed me that numerous bands of hunghutzes had again appeared in the neighbourhood and that it had been learned that disguised Japanese soldiers were among them. With this warning in mind, I decided not to venture away from the immediate territory of our operations, the more so be- cause I had now no shooting companion. On my return I was greatly pleased with the appear- ance of our establishment, for it was already a real factory, employing about one thousand men. Two rail- roads transported the supplies of wood, while the staff houses, labourers’ barracks, stores and shops made up a whole town that had sprung up here in the forest near the quite unknown village of Ho Lin, which had .ow come to be a suburb of my charcoal town. But it was not ordained of Fate that I was long to enjoy the pleasurable contemplation of my new city. No man knows what the morrow will bring him—a fact which seems to me to be the best justification for opti- mism and altruism and which is really the great attrac- tion of life, which thus always remains a riddle. In this connection I never shall forget the words of a fellow- prisoner, when we were serving sentences, mine for rev- olution and his for burning the house of an enemy: “To-morrow is never like to-day. If life is difficult to-day, it will be easier to live to-morrow. If to-morrow be worse, then to-day one is already a little accustomed to difficulty and will not suffer so much from the change for the worse. If to-morrow be successful, it will seem a magnificent day.”THE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST 87 Then this philosophy of life, held and pronounced by a man sentenced to long years of prison, seemed repellent to me; but now I feel that he was quite right. I remember, as though it were only yesterday, July 20th, 1905, when the application of the above dictum came in my own life. It was half-past four in the morn- ing when someone knocked at the door of my car, which my orderly opened. Just after I had looked at my watch and was trying to catch the conversation, the man came in and reported: “A Chinese has arrived, breathless from running, and wants to see you at once, sir.” “Let him come in.” A labourer came in and, in broken Russian, began telling me excitedly about an accident which had oc- curred at one of the ovens. “As we started taking out the coal, your assistant, Chief, with two labourers was on the top of the oven, when suddenly it caved in and let the men down into the fire. Come, Chief, come quickly, because everyone has lost his head!” Such terror and despair were pictured in the face of the Chinese that I realized something dreadful had oc- curred. I jumped up, and, after directing the orderly to telephone to Udzimi for a doctor and nurses, I ran from the car without a coat and without arms, following closely upon the heels of the Chinese. In the village everything was still. As we passed one of the Cossacks on guard near the stores of charcoal, I shouted directions to him to send the sergeant and the remaining Cossacks to the place of the accident. I was wearing high boots Over my trousers and a white shirt, in the left breast- pocket of which I was carrying a small but rather thick notebook, When we had run for about half a mile and ee : = ¥ r ih TIN Te OSIM! ea e See aes sakiiae hace porcnembel A ToC a bbe hese eeeaaa SRS cemRC TINA ELE! Teese een MARR ase PRO a Sat ne care Mi HR SRS A Bs 88 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON had rounded a curve which took us out of sight of the little town, we came upon two Chinese seated near the track. Just as we drew abreast of them they rose and asked my guide something which I did not understand. Immediately he answered them, they jumped up and started to run along beside us. Then, suddenly and with- out the least warning, the two men grabbed my arms and tried to throw me. They gave no heed to my command to let go but only tightened their grips in silence and tried the harder to bring me down. All this time I had no idea what they were up to until I saw my Chinese labourer-guide swing round and make for me with a knife in his hand. With my arms held down so that I could not defend myself, I could only watch as he thrust at me but fortunately struck the notebook, which took enough of the weight of the blow so that only the point of the blade entered my breast. I gave a tremendous lunge, that pulled me out of the clutches of the two men, but in the meantime was struck again by the labourer in my left hand and wounded rather badly. But my jerk had been successful, although the two men had so en- tangled their feet with mine that only my upper body was free. As I hammered them in my further efforts to extricate myself, their hold on my feet lessened; but I had then immediately to turn back against the labourer, who was once more making at me with his knife. With all my force I kicked him in the upper part of the belly so hard that I sent him down with a cry of pain. In falling, he dropped his knife, struck the rail and rolled down the ballast embankment. Though the two men in the interval had regained control and were trying to pin my arms once more, I succeeded a second time in freeing my tight hand and struck one of them under the chin,overturning him in a dazed condition but falling myself from the force of my effort and landing across him. Fortunately for me, my third assailant, seeing the fate of his two companions and suffering himself from the lesser attentions I had bestowed upon his facial target, tan off without attempting to give further assistance to his associate. What made it so really unfortunate for me was the fact that, in falling, I had caught my foot under the rail and had twisted my leg so badly that I fainted. It was afterwards ascertained that I had seri- ously wrenched the hip joint. It was probably only a few minutes before Shum and the Cossacks found me and restored me to consciousness with the cold water from the ditch. Then two of the soldiers placed me on their carbines and carried me back tomy car, a very different-looking object from the hurry- ing form that had left it so shortly before. After roping the two men near me, Shum started off with his other Cossacks in search of the third fellow, whom they lo- cated in the bushes by the tracks he had made on leaving the railway embankment. I had little thought, when ordering the doctor and nurses for the victims of the trumped-up accident, that I was arranging for myself. Soon the injured hip was bandaged, the wounds in my breast and hand dressed and I lay still, waiting for Shum to return and give direc- tions to my assistants, as the doctor had announced that he would take me this same day to Harbin for proper treatment. Shum soon came back and reported to me: “The Chinese who lay on the track is dead with a smashed jaw and some teeth out. The second one, who rolled off the track, cannot sit up, and I put him, together with the man we caught in the bushes, under guard in THE TREASURE AND TOLL OF THE FOREST 8 9 -s — ee Ne a 1s ei con Fite cipher eeae —- ee - REITIN. ° 4 Ss sbivagige pepptdbin serertasy De sia " Fae Hag eae Tee ne apace tai CLS : - LLRs tg bed Oe a ae a - > me aT ks PeTHLes a : Aare ST ra ee ee SaRTONSKNTa TERT _ pr re’ jumie he 7 Bea it b Sag + ig P \ | ae a) ae | a a : et eae go FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON the barracks. I have already sent for the Chinese official, directing that he bring an executioner with him.” These were Shum’s arrangements; but it turned out that the executioner had only to deal with one individual, as the other died in the course of the day from his in- juries. And in this way my work in Udzimi came to an end. I returned there no more, for I remained in bed at Har- bin for some weeks. Even after getting up I was forced to use a crutch and was in constant pain; and the effects of my fight with the hunghutzes stayed by me for a long time in the form of rheumatism in my injured leg and hip.CHAPTER VIII THE STAINED ALTAR OF WAR Ne soon as I could get about, I went at once to my laboratory in Harbin, where, according to the report of my assistant, an engineer, there was a big accumula- tion of important work and problems. The Staff of the Army and the Railway Administration had submitted numerous samples of different varieties of coal which had been found by Chinese throughout northern Man- churia. Though I was able to help my engineers and the young chemists with the analysis and other tasks, work was still very fatiguing for me in my weakened condition. I was keenly absorbed in the news from the front. These first days of the great battle of Liaoyang passed in ominous silence, while the bulletins from General Kuropatkin’s headquarters dwelt upon several strategic movements of the army but gave little or no information about the battle itself. In the meantime my Chinese ser- vants told me in secret that the Russians were retreating along the whole front and that the Japanese were work- ing round to the west to cut the railway line in the rear and to capture Harbin. This same day a friend of mine, who had just returned from a hunting expedition in the vicinity of Harbin, told me that he had seen fortifications being prepared not far from the city along the bank of the Sungari and said that it was very evident the Staff gI M soe ee ee ~ A 4 - iit “Ve POE ea VA 4 phd apes sale se Fe PIAS tee 39 Ct tect Dobe pe alia eee —_— 7 ee ee ala Se WS ETL + api RT SS teenies a — tr aE Ts roe : rasan nics bh rise oE EAD : sin pm ad 6 ecoape wae Dra bi Ne ase | RAS a os os OETA CP aR EIDE ER Sb pan LeTio toon oe a es tee St re ee ih ns kala cere ra Pe . ERAT Tin Sey ep TA ie Sake Ai Mi fe ae Be sph oe io" PHS Sat RM ae ees ie OREM — ae Se — +5 Sh “or, tre eae Pa her ee 5 SEHR we Q2 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON was preparing for possible eventualities here, an opinion that tended to confirm the report of my Chinese. Soon disheartening news began to filter through, showing that Kuropatkin and his Staff had withdrawn to Moukden and that the army was in retreat along the whole front. Finally an official bulletin appeared and carried the la- conic statement that a strategic re-alignment of the army was being made on positions near Moukden. But the real truth could not be concealed and caused a panic among the population, as the news spread through the town. The details, coming later, showed that the Rus- sian losses had amounted to twenty thousand and that, although the Japanese also lost heavily, the Russians had really to sacrifice chosen strategic and fortified positions for an entirely new line. Also the Staff had no suitable hospitals at Moukden, so that the wounded had all to be transported farther north to Harbin. How well I remember one sad morning! I had left my house early and was making my way across the Place in front of the Cathedral on the way to my laboratory. The sun was just coming up, and the shadows of the night still lingered in the angles of the roofs behind the massive corners of the church and in the hedges and bushes around the Place. No passers-by were visible; one heard no rattlings of the droskies over the protruding stones of the awful pavements of the city. But, as I turned out of the Place, I heard something which brought me to a halt to listen. From somewhere, as though up out of the earth, there was borne in upon me a long wail, full of pain and despair, growing ever more distinct and increasing in volume. I went on, feeling that something terrible, something unforgettable, was about to occur. As I passed beyond the hedges, my eye was struck with long rows of white tents with the Red Cross flag aboveTHE STAINED ALTAR OF WAR 93 them, which had come as ghosts during a night when such a mass of wounded had been brought in that the hospitals, numerous as they were, could no longer hold them. It was from these tents that the wail of the wounded rolled out to crush the soul. The white figures of the doctors and the nurses moved silently and swiftly in the soft morning light, at once mysterious and terrible in their white uniforms spotted with blood. At intervals they entered the tents and brought out the dead, placing them on a long, flat wagon and continuing with their gory stretchers down another tented street. Though many years have passed since that depressing morning, I remember it as though it were but yesterday. It was a field of human torture and despair, sown by the lavish hand of the scarlet spectre of War. I know that war is an inevitable phenomenon in the physical life of peoples; but it is a phenomenon terrible and crying for revenge unto Heaven. Though I am a man of action and have seen war eye to eye, fighting for causes which I could comprehend and for which I could take the risk of the sacrifice, I cannot help being moved when I see masses of men flung into the jaws of death without this comprehension of, and sympathy with, the purposes of the war, which is often waged for material aims, for Mammon alone, asking from men victims with- out number and a sea of blood and giving them in return only wounds and crippled bodies for life, too often with- out the arms with which Nature has provided them to meet their struggle for existence. mee ¥ibid Win? Shy era ana Shp oe haiti fa Pe eee Mage ijt ae os este ae RA SNES cae taings a fs CHAPTER Ix STALKED AND STALKING NONDITIONS and events in Manchuria did not per- mit me to remain idle for long, though I was still very lame and had unfortunately become a subtle barome- ter for the registration of every change in the weather. An approaching storm, the rise and fall in the atmos- pheric pressure, any sudden change in temperature, rain or cold wind—all these occasioned more or less severe pains in my injured hip. However, war has her exigen- cies, which in this case forced me to discontinue my cure sooner than the medical art could possibly sanction. A few days after the defeat at Liaoyang I received orders to institute a search for coal in the neighbourhood of Harbin, and to make careful analyses of any deposits found to ascertain whether they would be suitable for locomotive use. The cause of the urgency of the orders was the fact that, through the defeats at Liaoyang and on the Liaotung Peninsula, Russia had lost a number of good coal mines, especially the very productive and valu- ‘able one at Fushun. ‘Two skilled miners, specialists in drilling, a good drill and thirty Chinese workers were immediately put at my disposal. A small steamer loaded all my expedition and its belongings, consisting of our food supplies, pumps, tools, pyroxylin and a quantity of timber, as it was very difficult along the river above Har- bin to secure adequate lumber supplies at short notice. 94STALKED AND STALKING 95 As rapidly as possible I completed my liquidation of the Udzimi works by turning over to the young engineer who had been appointed to succeed me all the records and directions for carrying on the operations. Then I received from the doctor minute instructions, as he gave me powders and salves, grumbling all the time that I was going out only to lose my foot, because, according to him, there was a chronic inflammation of the wrenched joint threatening. Our first search for coal began about fifteen miles from Harbin, at a place where some low, bare hillocks came down to the river, as I had an entry in my notebook that coal had been secured from there during the building of the Chinese Eastern Railway. Going to reconnoitre with my technical helpers, I soon found in deep gorges among the hills outcrops of thin layers of coal. We wandered about for a long time, until the sun had already begun to sink behind the hills, when we came upon a deep gulch dividing the whole range into two chains. Though the purple shadows already claimed the gulch, I decided to enter it and investigate, even though only superficially, its steeply sloping sides to find the place from which the coal had been taken some years before. As we crossed the gulch, an ever-thickening twilight began to envelop us, and from some unseen hiding-place crawled out spectres, serpentine-like creatures of hazy mist, which massed together to form a floating curtain that shut off the ravine from our view. Suddenly, in the distance, a tiny light gleamed, and after a moment a sound like a stifled cry reached our ears. “There must be a fang-tzu in the gulch,” observed one of the miners; and placing his hands to his mouth, he shouted, “Eh-ho! Man-tgu, come here!’ Only the echo answered his call. We carried on and Sn emamm = wwrtiet? “t BAAS a a gt, SULA gree si5p sesmireeer three bites dipk beens ‘i a aioe ee -Raa AE IE | PERC ara Cpe eae tSUbS es a iv 52 EES PPOs lee J ~ coe Sees see ———E—————————E HGH CH THREE GAGE SARISEG Sia Meat 3 eSNG isa iae a ae 5 saneas ra 53 ice wn ala aa raboe i she - a 96 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON soon discovered traces of a fire, where small pieces of coal were still smouldering but the larger lumps were cold and wet from the water very recently poured over them to put out the fire. “Somebody has put the fire out in a hurry,” whispered one of the miners. ‘Evidently they were not anxious to receive unexpected guests.” We listened very attentively, but not the slightest sound came to us to betray the presence of any human be- ings. “They have hidden themselves well,” remarked Rusoff, one of the miners, with a laugh. As the light was rapidly fading, we decided to turn back; and, on emerging from the gulch, heard the dismal creaking of a Chinese cart, this unusual vehicle whose great wooden axle turns with the wheels and carries on two points of contact the whole weight of the load. We set our course by the sound and soon discovered a Chi- nese unmercifully lashing his team of four ponies that were struggling to pull an immense load of kaoliang stalks through the ruts and holes of a typically impossible Manchurian highway. When we asked the inhuman carter about the coal, he promised, for a good price, to show us on the following morning the remains of former shafts in the hills. We consequently decided to spend the night in the near-by village, whither the Chinese was bound with his kaoliang stalks, and to go with him at dawn to the abandoned shafts. Our guide lodged us in his house on the inevitable k’ang, where the fleas at once began their assault upon us, but this time for our salvation. Turning on this bed of torture, I could not sleep at all, though my miners, long inured to this feature of Manchurian life, dozed soundly. On the end of the k’ang our host snored away,STALKED AND STALKING 97 harmoniously accompanied by all his relatives. I did not know what time it was, when the watchdog barked and then immediately became silent. In a moment the door opened softly and three Chinese entered in crouching atti- tudes. I recognized at once that they were hunghutzes, as they were armed with carbines and with knives, car- ried, in keeping with the Mongolian custom, under their belts at the back. Stealthily they went along the k’ang, looking into the face of each of the sleepers, and making signs to one another with their hands. By the reddish glare of the smoking oil lamp I had a good look at them and could see clearly that they were elderly men with dark, threatening faces. When they had inspected everybody and everything in the room, they began to undress, placing their carbines in the corner opposite me and taking off their long outer coats, so that they had on only the regular blue Chinese trousers and short jackets. Then they sat down on a log of wood that was lying near the door and began whisper- ing among themselves. I watched our unexpected guests very carefully, although they were really not dangerous for the three of us with our excellent Mausers and Nagan revolvers. But one had to be cautious; and, after the assault in Ho Lin, I not only had no sympathy for their illk but also wanted to capture them and hand them over to the Cossack escort guarding our steamer. I felt sure that this would not be possible without some shooting and, consequently, began to elaborate a plan of assault. Just at this point events took quite an unex- pected turn and altered all of my strategic plans. In the middle of the k’ang there was a small box, belonging to one of the miners, Gorloff, and containing three cups, spoons, a carton of sugar and a glass jar with tea. We had taken tea in the evening and had left the open box 3 - a ss gt a ig Ti 2 = ——— = ee eee : i _ tn —_—_————— - > om oA 0 ur eee p wr. at s wari ise. as ’ Sear sia ge rea ha ee bok? — sae On FRI Se ips bok sages goad Rie sbraey ete Sb TRAP pasausv tases eae a gs aN Suan is tahh Sod lt peEH MaRS ee Pe —— PARR RHMERmE aun aaU ni a Phy 6 Seer ee ENRIAT RSS Pree ME IPs te shee * + : enn ae taeed ‘se . 4 4 i ’ he % ‘ Se Te ee ee TWD a aiey TH SS A 98 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON standing there on the k’ang. One of the hunghutzes, in scouting about, discovered the sugar and put his dirty hand down into it. Ina flash I seized my boot, that was lying at my feet, shied it with all my force at the fellow and shouted at the same time: “Out of there, you thief! Wake up, wake up!” My companions jumped to their feet, not understand- ing what the trouble was but pulling out their guns to be ready for anything. At this sudden turn of affairs the hunghutzes were caught off their guard, ran out into the yard and made off amid the barking of the dogs without even trying to come back and salvage their equipment. Through this we gained three carbines, three cartridge belts, three knives and as many Chinese long coats with their girdles of ordinary black cloth. We gave the knives and the gowns to our host and, armed with the carbines, started out at dawn under his leadership for the ravine. The Chinese took us directly to the mouth of an aban- doned shaft, partially closed with earth and stones that had slid down into it. Finding so quickly what we were searching for, I immediately despatched Rusoff to the village to secure a horse and hurry to the steamer to bring back the men, the tools and the pyroxylin needed to blow up the rocks that had choked the entrance to the working. Meanwhile, we two went farther along, and the Chinese showed us several entrances to old shafts, the examination of which tended to prove to me con- clusively that work had been carried on here simul- taneously in several places. We found in some of the gradually descending galleries remnants of plank and beam timbering. With our geologist’s hammer and a small pick we took out a few samples and found, on bringing them to the light, that externally they indicatedSTALKED AND STALKING 99 the coal to be a lignite, or brown coal, very similar to the deposits I had seen in the Ussurian country. We had already spent some hours in the gulch, when suddenly the Chinese, who had been wandering around the hillsides, ran to us and reported in an excited manner that he had seen smoke issuing from one of the shaft openings farther along. I took it for granted that the coal was probably burning and was very much annoyed over this possibility, as it would make working opera- tions dangerous and, perhaps, even impossible. As we approached the shaft and saw a thin stream of smoke issuing from it, I realized, just as soon as I smelled it, that it was not coal smoke but that of wood, and jumped at once to the conclusion that there must be some- one within the gallery. Recalling the traces of the hastily extinguished fire we had discovered the evening before, I felt that the matter invited further investigation. Prompted by this thought, we entered the gallery and found that it was high enough to permit us to walk in it, if we bent our heads slightly. Soon the darkness shut us in and, as we continued our advance by striking matches, calling to one another to keep in touch, suddenly a deafening roar pulled us up. Reverberation swelled it into thunder, as it was repeated a second, third and even a fourth time. “Shooting!” cried Gorloff, as the Chinese ran howling to the entrance. I ordered Gorloff to call out in both Russian and Chinese that whoever was there should stop shooting and come to meet us. To this the only answer was another volley, which, however, did us no damage. Evidently the denizens of the mine were shooting some- where in a side gallery to frighten us and were afraid to expose themselves in the main shaft.oe sa — _ ee —— = ee eR SR TENE i ‘ ; ghar : So pe ea ete Waa TRS sein dtattaaatiles hana Senne — 100 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “Are they hunghutzes?”’ Gorloff asked the Chinese, when we had reassembled at the entrance. “No, Captain,’ answered the Chinese with conviction. “Whatever hunghutzes appear in our neighbourhood come in from a long distance, roam about and depart. None of them would be bold enough to try to live in this cavern, which is inhabited by bad spirits and the ta lung (great dragon). These must be mao-tge . . . for- eigners,” he corrected himself, using the polite word in- stead of this other uncomplimentary term so common in northern Manchuria, at the same time watching us with fear to see whether we had taken offence at his slip. ‘We shall wait for the arrival of Rusoff and the men,” I interpolated to the miner. “We must unravel this riddle and smoke these badgers out.” While we were awaiting our reinforcements, we posted ourselves near the mouth of the shaft, at the same time keeping close guard over it to prevent the bad spirits and the dragon from leaving their nests. After a little, more volleys were fired from the depths of the shaft, the bullets coming whistling out of the mouth and warning us that our captives wanted to emerge. When we an- swered with a few shots, again things quieted down with- out any one appearing where we could see them in the sloping gallery. To while away the time as we waited, Gorloff took it upon himself to explain to the Chinese at some length that our trapped game could not be bad spirits and dragons. “Listen, you son of Han,” he started, waving his im- mense red hand before the nose of the Chinese, “these are no bad spirits or other fabulous creatures of yours; for, if spirits had possessed carbines, we should already three thousand years ago have had no Chinese on thisSTALKED AND STALKING IOI earth. They would all have been exterminated by the evil spirits! Do you understand ?” In evident appreciation of this dissertation and of the facts behind it the Chinese showed a fine set of immense yellow teeth and nodded his head in pleasure. He ap- parently preferred to deal with men armed with carbines than with unassailable and always treacherous spirits. It was not until a little before noon that we heard the voices of approaching people and among these recognized the deep bass tones of Rusoff’s laugh. He soon appeared with two Cossacks and ten of the Chinese workmen, carrying the pyroxylin, spades, pumps and picks. “We must take food before the battle!’ insisted Gor- loff. “The sun is already high in the heavens.” We finished quickly our meal of tea, bread and con- serve, aS we were all anxious to see the solution of the mystery in the shaft. Leaving the Chinese in a safe place under the charge of one of the older workmen, we five foreigners again approached the mouth of the shaft. Rusoff first crawled into the gallery, and, in his resound- ing bass, summoned the unknown garrison of the sub- terranean fortress to surrender, promising them liberty and assuring them that we sought entrance into their fastness only for the purpose of studying the coal and not for pursuing them. After repeating his proposals once more in Chinese, he crawled back out of the shaft and concealed himself behind a heap of stones at the mouth. For some minutes after this silence reigned in the cavern, only to be broken by another carbine volley and the cries of several men, as our elves made bold for an attack. In answer we began shooting into the shaft and kept it up for a considerable time. We could tell that our intangible enemy was in retreat, as the voices now sounded from a greater distance down the shaft, om i sa tn a a a ai . ell cee rues aE a), * : Sica ~ = aie —— = ; z RIT MUTE =e : ceed haes3455 ass bea reghode bls SSSR IE aE Ee ey nel rs aiacln bint reed iaeia hie BC ead eT nial dance - Sree UE PLERPORISPSS SOCIO ret sears a y PP SLL eee phi EPCOS RS 9 et es ie eS Fe he ihn TiesLAL TR Sao wen bak on or bo trackage idea TEMES sere PORTH ' oA sebs bd dot be 57 RSG is riage cares sri a ~ aga ¥ g oe sa) bp patie: : rr = TEE i Mi? - ROUGH ARG ena ia aa hime ot st Ste Er ————— iS STS as Say te, i Sree sm emer eeeee} a2 Hasina is tee Bea ei PS? yt Seas Lo PS a ee oe 102 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “What shall we do with these gentlemen?’ asked Rusoff. “How long shall we wait for them to come out?” “Not very long,” I answered. ‘Tell them that if they do not leave their arms inside and come promptly out, I shall blow up the shaft and give them a magnificent and noisy burial.” Laughing and greatly pleased with his commission, Rusoff shouted in the new warning, which simply drew a new volley out of the depths. “Gorloff, take the smallest charge of pyroxylin, fasten a detonator and a Bickford fuse to it for a quick explo- sion, and throw the whole thing into the shaft as an initial warning to these mountain spirits.’ As the skilful miner quickly executed my command, the pyroxylin exploded with a deafening roar and threw from the shaft opening, as though it were the muzzle of a great cannon, clouds of dust, vapour and gas inter- mingled with small stones and earth. “That is only a start,’ thundered Rusoff. “Come out or in five minutes we shall destroy the entrance to the gallery. Be quick, you badgers!” Our strategy proved successful, for soon we heard a voice from the gallery and negotiations began. “Who are you?” was the first word from our invis- ible cliff dwellers. “We are for the moment ourselves. You first tell who you are,” Rusoff roared back at them. “We are Georgians,” was the unexpected and astonish- ing reply. “Why do you stay in a hole like badgers?” returned Rusoff, “Well, it has pleased us so to do,” answered the voice from below; and I perceived in it the hidden laugh whichSTALKED AND STALKING 103 never leaves a man born in the mountains of the Cau- casus. “Will you come out or are we to bury you, because it pleases us so to do?” I queried. After a short interval of silence the voice sounded nearer. “Will you allow us to go free or will you arrest us? If you seek to arrest us, we shall ourselves blow up the mine.” “Evidently you have deserved prison,” I observed. “No-o-o,” drawled he, “but there have been misunder- standings’; and again I detected the note of mirth in the voice of the Georgian. “Tf£ you will leave your arms in the gallery and will not make trouble, you can go to the four winds, so far as we are concerned.” “Then we shall come out.” “T know that a Georgian can be true to his word,” I shouted back to him, “and consequently I shall trust you.” We held our rifles in readiness and waited. After sev- eral minutes there appeared from a hole among the rocks a head in a little, black sheep-skin cap, surveyed us from its piercing eyes and bobbed back again. “Why are you carrying carbines?” came from the re- tiring head. “Come out, or I shall blow up the shaft,” I replied sharply. “You are a peppery individual,” answered the Georg- lan. “Well, we have no choice. Perhaps you will be true to your promise.” One after another seven men emerged from the mouth of the gallery. Tall, thin, dressed in tight-fitting black coats with leather belts ornamented in silver, they madeUL aarrtet Sere ARGS plbseaterstch bibre - = mith: st Sia MS eerie = ss + am Ss. eee ane! 104 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON a striking spectacle, that was enhanced by the boldness of their expressions. The Cossacks quickly searched them, but the Georgians had kept their word and brought out no arms. “You can go,” I said to the first one who came out, “and do not trouble us in our work. Also you had better not enter any of these shafts again, as they can easily fall in and trap you there.” The young Georgian, with a strong, refined face set with fiery eyes, expanded the nostrils of his aquiline nose, showed with a smile a set of even, white teeth and an- swered : “We took shelter here, as we were afraid of the hung- hutzes.’ Ashe finished, he lowered his eyes and betrayed in’his lips the tremble of a hidden laugh. “Yes, I thoroughly understand! Seven such djightis (a rider or warrior) must, of course, be afraid of the hunghutges! The Georgians are no warriors.” The young man raised his head and blushed. He seemed about to give a sharp and provoking reply, but, as he caught my eye, he broke out ina laugh. The other Georgians turned away their heads to avoid following the lead of their careless companion. “Then we may go?” “T have already said so once.” “Thank you,” exclaimed the young Georgian, and quickly advanced to me. “My name is Eristoff, Prince Eristoff.” With those words he extended his hand. I pressed his small, strong palm and gave him my name. Each of his associates came up and repeated this urban ceremony in the midst of these wild surroundings, and then they all turned and filed quietly away. We started at once to explore the realm of these elves,STALKED AND STALKING 105 leaving the Cossacks on guard at the entrance. By the aid of our oil lamps we discovered in a lateral drift a miniature arsenal, two bags of food and a box of car- tridges. This encounter with the Georgians did not particularly astonish me. It was not then unusual to meet representa- tives of this warlike folk in the towns of the Russian Far Fast and even in China. “Why is this so?” one naturally asks. There are several reasons for this long journey. The Georgians have always been a liberty-loving people, among whom the oppression of the Russian authori- ties in the Caucasus has often led to risings and revolution. Following such events the Russian tribunals have banished many of these children of the great mountain ranges, these knights of liberty, to eastern Siberia. In the opposition parties in Russia, Georgians were al- ways found supporting the most radical doctrines. It is sufficient to recall the names of Prince J. G. Tzeretelli, I. I. Ramishwili and N. S. Cheidze to show what promi- nent positions Georgians have taken in the revolutionary ranks. The traditional Eastern law of revenge, summarized in the one word “vendetta,” was another cause which augmented the number of Georgian exiles in Siberia. To illustrate the Georgian character in these matters, it is perhaps legitimate to rehearse a story which is said to be authentic. A Georgian accused a neighbour of having offended him. On the day of the trial the plaintiff duly came to the court, but the defendant did not appear. When the judge ordered the court police to summon the accused to come forthwith before the tribunal, the plain- tiff, after the police had departed on their errand, shook his head quizzically and protested to the judge: AE oa tibviqe anainiaieas AAAS SRE arb Tied Ba porte!at x i iced epicieh afi icin sSrioanaLN ARS =34) peas one. as; = eins “i cee is Ot hea, Fa Rt 3 | | a U a Ft Ri \ ee E> wo Pe By a ; tig tro tit SRR = ae patie Seiisinen tenance ee 106 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “The police will accomplish nothing, for he will not come.” “Why not?” queried the indignant judge. “They will compel him to come.” “They will have to bring him,” the Georgian mumbled. “How so?” “Because I killed him this morning.” And in addition there was still one more cause which helped to people Siberia with unwilling colonists from Georgia—the primordial warlike custom of attacking neighbouring tribes and villages to rob them of horses and cattle and to carry off their women. This practice, looked upon by the djighits in the light of knightly val- our, has persisted in the Caucasus from time immemorial. The Georgians, with their really passionate love of freedom, cannot be kept long in prison or under com- pulsory labour. Somehow they always manage to escape and hide themselves away in the nooks and corners of towns from which they stage their bold robbing expedi- tions. During the Russo-Japanese War there sprang up and flourished a special Georgian band, which became a terror not only to the Japanese but also to the Chinese population, even harassing small Russian detachments, particularly those convoying army-supply trains. In every town in the Far East there were restaurants, inns and buffets kept by Georgians in good standing, which were made the hiding-places of their countrymen, wanted by the law and the police, and from which these banditti carried out their operations. As almost all the Georgians came from families belonging to an old knightly nobility, a djighit never lowered himself to be a common thief nor attacked a lone and disarmed man. Every Georgian expedition must be crowned with a battle and with blood. This characteristic naturally left the Russian police withSTALKED AND STALKING 107 little zest for fighting these courageous “devils of the mountains,” and for this reason the Georgian fugitives from the prisons usually enjoyed long spells of liberty, that ended only when some specially unfavourable turn of fortune carried them back behind the bars or when the bullet of a pursuing guard broke the thread of their adventurous life. I had no doubt that I had dislodged from the cavern some such dangerous individuals, full of knightly phan- tasy and old traditions so strangely blended with common banditry. My suspicions proved to be entirely well founded, for on my return to Harbin I learned that a gang of seven Georgians had attacked a field post, killed several men and taken a considerable sum of money. The Harbin police, who were traditionally slack during these years, stated that the gang was led by a Prince Eristoff, who had escaped from the prison at Vladivostok and for whom they had long been searching. a REA Paertsr oe. a £ Apr eShs pe a en SEPT:eee 2 ah De jaar MAREN hese eters: =e - ghaavini F535: it. moi Senses tale eaea Hira URINE al aE CHAPTER X COAL AND A CURSED LAKE HROUGHOUT the next few days I inspected all the abandoned shafts and came to the conclusion that the mining had been carried on without any regular system and had consequently rendered impossible a proper utilization of the various seams, which had been ruined for practical development by wrongly placed gal- leries that were now crumbling in many spots. Besides this, the coal was young and very friable, pulverizing readily, a fact which greatly militated against its value for use in locomotives and also made it very difficult to transport economically. Consequently I eliminated these deposits from consideration and journeyed farther up the Sungari. As we reached the mouth of the River Nonni, we turned up the stream and began fighting its current, work- ing our way northwest. Carefully cultivated fields of kaoliang, millet and soya beans lined the banks of the Golden Nonni; and numerous villages of the greyish- brown fang-tzu, looking like irregular heaps of dried clay, were visible everywhere. The captain of the steamer, who had in earlier: years navigated the Nonni, informed me that we were ap- proaching the mouth of the Tolo, an affluent coming in from the west. This smaller stream forms the northeast- ern boundary of the sparsely covered eastern extremity 108COAL AND A CURSED LAKE 109 of the Gobi, the presence of whose wastes we had already had borne in upon us by such clouds of dust and sand that the skies and the sun were at times obscured by them, giving to everything a uniform, monotonous veil of yel- low colouring. In places these drifting sands worked their way across the fields that bordered the river and stretched their fingers into the stream in the form of spits and shoals, Near a village, where we had decided to stop, the cap- tain moored his steamer against a high bank cut out by the current. As soon as we were tied up, I sent Rusoff out with some of the Chinese to hire a number of carts to take us along the bank of the Tolo, where I had been informed there existed considerable deposits of coal. We could not, however, find any transport in this village, so that Rusoff had to go off to the nearest town, Hsin Chao, from where he brought in with him seven great lumbering, screeching Manchurian farm-carts, which gave the impression of having been bereft of oil since the day they were built. With this transport we started for the Tolo along a road across the fields that was unimaginably rutted and in places deep with the sands borne in on the western winds from the Gobi. It was already the end of Septem- ber, and at dawn cold blasts often heralded the coming winter. There behind the almost black ranges of the Great Khingans the cold northwest winds of autumn were already playing madly at their game of sowing desert sands, while here on the eastern slope of the range the winter spoke as yet only in a whisper, warning of what was to come and cautioning man and beast to pre- pare. Another of the inevitable warnings of the approaching cold came to us from those winged messengers, honking ~ a ; Ena ; a aa PE lt A — rs pea sin Sotpi th a IEE? u sp lyecisegastegSe mam pee ET re SULTS reSa Aas nS Ha Le o Cetrer maith 3 = eye, ae a aati is ig are ES te ie ae on ake hes Bit pian pitied Eo Fare sy are et so RL eee penton = PE ee sar aba eh SSt ee ET: cPMeeaehTy agate Sah Pte aerate 110 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON out the news that the northern swamps and rivulets were putting on their winter pelts and that it was time for all feathered creatures to be away to thesouth. As I watched again with never-tiring enthusiasm this migration of the birds, I looked with longing at the leather case in which my shotgun lay, impatiently waiting for the days of the autumn chase. We pitched our camp in a little village near the point where the Tolo joins the Nonni. The rather high eastern spurs of the Great Khingans reached down nearly to the river bank, and out from the valleys and gullies between these mountain shoulders many little streams ran down into the Tolo, forming a whole network of waterways across a marshy plain that was overgrown with high grass, dotted everywhere with clumps of bushes coming up out of the bog. Several times I crossed these bogs on my way to the mountains, where I found outcrops of coal in the steep slopes that was of so good a quality that I ordered pros- pecting work to be undertaken to determine the thickness and direction of the seams and the quantity available. While Rusoff and Gorloff superintended these opera- tions, I took advantage of the opportunity to visit the neighbouring country. Inasmuch as the pain in my leg prevented me from riding, I had to go about in a cart and usually took the captain of the steamer and a Cos- sack along with me as an escort. We visited the plain lying between the rivers Tolo and Chor, both affluents of the Nonni, and found that two low, almost bare, foot- hills of the Great Khingans reach down into it. Every- where we came across wide expanses of kaoliang fields, dotted with rather prosperous-looking Chinese villages, set in circles of tall, old trees. We had often to cross brooks and small rivers, whose banks were overgrownCOAL AND A CURSED LAKE III with thick scrub oak bushes and reeds, and in these we kicked out an extraordinary number of pheasants from right under our feet, being able only to stand and watch them run swiftly away, twisting in and out through the grass and bushes and almost flattened to the earth as they ran. Finding they would not rise, we metamorphosed our Cossack into a hunting dog, sent him into the brush about two hundred yards ahead of us and had him come shout- ing down toward us. When the birds broke and discoy- ered us, they flared straight up into the air and gave us easy targets. Sometimes for days we fed our men on this delicious game, thus giving them, with their fondness for meat and their inability to indulge this expensive taste, a tremendous treat. However, after some time we our- selves tired of this dainty and could no longer swallow what had become for us an insipid meat; and we conse- quently soon ceased hunting, as this is the least interest- ing of shooting, when the birds are so numerous. Not far from the mouth of the Chor we found a lake of the same name, almost entirely overgrown with reeds and rushes and covered, in the slightly deeper parts, with a carpet of water-lilies and the leaves of small aquatic plants. One evening, when the ducks and geese were flighting, we made an observation here at this lake which astonished us and set us wondering what the explanation might be. When flocks of these birds, tired by the day’s journey, circled over the lake with the evident intention of stopping there for the night, instead of settling, they began to utter their notes of warning and danger, as they swung down close over the water and swept up and away to make off toward the river. We were quite at a loss to understand the reason of the birds for consistently re- fusing to settle and were much interested and relieved, Tanzareas ane er ents To ree SATS ST a Ripa ASR ini ore A ERP SR TITUS Hala sie aiaarat Sg Ti ir eee Bas onsen 112 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON when we unexpectedly ran across the explanation of it in the little village on its shore, where we happened to be stopping. It came in the course of a legend which the old Manchu, in whose house we were lodging, related to us, as he was handling and examining our arms. As the cap- tain translated it to me, the old man’s story ran about as follows: “Tt was long, long ago—so long that even my grand- father did not remember it—that a terrible famine raged in China. Thousands upon thousands of people died in towns and villages, and it was only here between the Chor and the Tolo that Death did not levy his inexorable toll. This was because of our lake. In the spring and autumn immense flocks of ducks, geese, swans and other migrating birds came here to feed. They arrived in the spring from the south and the southwest, in the autumn down the valley of the Nonni and southeastward against the current of the Sungari; and they always stopped on our lake for a long period of rest and feeding, for then fish and nutritious water-plants were plentiful. “Tn those days Buddha was reverently worshipped in our countryside. As you know, the Buddhist faith does not allow the use of the flesh of birds and fish. During the famine years a Chinese merchant from the south ar- rived here and, seeing the quantity of birds and fish and scoffing at the precepts of our faith, persuaded the people to make use of these ample supplies of food to protect them from the scourge of hunger. Following his advice, the people made a great net, larger than any ever seen on the Sungari, and also set many cunning traps for the birds. With the fish and game they thus took, our fore- fathers sustained themselves through the years of hunger and the lake region really did not suffer. But, when theCOAL AND A CURSED LAKE 113 famine was a thing of the past, a Lama monk, robed in yellow, came here from behind the ranges of the Great Khingans. He walked around the lake, entered each house, then returned to the shore, cut thin poles and stuck them in the earth at seven paces apart until he had entirely encircled the water, putting on each one of the rods a bit of red cloth with a holy phrase written upon it. When the lake had thus been surrounded with this portentous circle, the Lama summoned all the people to- gether and spoke to them as follows: ““The great teacher, Buddha Sakya-muni, did not de- sire your death and looked in silence on your crime. However, as evidence of his displeasure at your departure from his precepts, he has ordained that the fish shall no longer multiply in your lake, nor shall any flock of mi- grating birds ever come down again to its surface.’ “Since that day there have never been any fish in the Lake of Chor. They sometimes have come in from the river but have immediately turned back or perished in the cursed water. It is the same with the birds. Ducks, geese and swans often circle for hours on end above Chor, but none of them, even the most tired or the wounded birds, ever venture to touch the water with their breasts, on account of the poisonous vapours which the Lama caused to rise from it.” Such was the tale of the old Manchu, and he lived in calm and undisturbing ignorance of the fact that it was not the curse of the yellow Lama that kept the lake free of fowl but that the birds, with the help of their keen, intuitive sense of danger, detected in the strong fumes of the lake the warning that it was no proper place for them to rest or feed. Of course, with the story-loving Ori- ental, it builds a better tale to have these riders of the air pass down from generation to generation the commandss eee 114 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON +) of Great Buddha to forsake for ever this forbidden pool; ( but it seems crudely necessary to give our credence to the more scientific, though much less attractive, theory that the poisonous vapours mentioned by the Manchu are the result of the slow death of the lake through the putrefying activity of several species of bacteria, which, as they multiply, kill or frighten away all animal life. Whatever the explanation, we shared in the realization of the fact and could not find any game around the shores of the lake, though we did pick up some unusual shooting experience along the marshy banks of the River Tolo about six miles from our prospecting work. It was one Saturday night that we first went there. We left our cart with the Chinese driver on the edge of the marsh, where the thick oak bushes began, and, taking with us a large kettle, cups, tea, salt, sugar and hard bread, pene- trated into the high grass and reeds. Though it was still an hour to the dawn, we already heard the thrilling trumpeting of the geese, as we took our stands along the marsh, making our blinds among the bushes and waiting for the sun, which seemed so loath to appear. Though the birds flew high that morning and gave us poor sport, I had the satisfaction of making an unusual double on a lone pair of big geese that came sweeping right over the waving tops of the grass and flared a won- } derful target, which both the captain and I missed with all four cartridges. In disgust I reloaded and chased the birds across the stream with two shots that brought them down. On the evening flight we had even worse treatment at the hands of Diana, for the Khingans joined the goddess of the hunt and poured down upon us a sudden freshet that drove us from our blinds and sent us wandering the whole night through over the flooded plain in a deluge of zi bois at rtereest my had rei Saree gt ner 't cbibis.r beard beh rcan Shh aa shes gpa I i DeTLR TR SibitaLt ARR RS HEIST GE DaliaumaGia: aii Pei pie ait bi hs ts SREP HERA ETN IY ere SURES iy iB a | | : Wt ‘ ; 4 r ae sa eli ‘oa TPR vege TesCOAL AND A CURSED LAKE IIS rain. In our search for the Chinese carter with our food, we entirely lost ourselves and began moving in the fatal circles that proved our want of compasses. The captain waxed more profane with each hour of the night, while the Cossack at one time sighed so piteously that my heart grew sad for him. “What ails you?” I asked with some concern, for I thought he must be in pain. “T put my sugar in my pocket. It has melted and now I am sticky all over.” “Damn it!’ shouted the captain. “This is the limit! Comfits made of Cossacks!’ In spite of all our fatigue we roared with laughter. Somehow we dragged the night through and at dawn, more dead than alive, we finally discovered our cart and the genial old driver with a kettle of tea swinging over a sputtering fire, ready to welcome and revive us. An hour later, after we had dried our clothes some- what, we were once more in our cart on our way back to the village where we had our working headquarters. On arriving, I found I could not get down without assis- tance and that my right leg and swollen joint could not be moved without giving me excruciating pain. For about a week I had to remain on my back in the dirty Chinese fang-tzu; doctoring myself for the indiscretions committed. Meantime the prospecting work turned out favourably, and I estimated that the ground under ex- ploration had four seams of coal, each of about six feet in thickness, and that the area of the deposit was sufh- ciently large to justify exploitation. As the aim of my exploration trip was thus accomplished, it only remained for the technical division of the Railway Administration or of the General Staff to continue the work, and my part as adviser was at an end. “s ru re s ont ey thy see che Ms APL I eee ahs 3 aes sb phd opty ciel th V2 esses Wi dsnrboress oh. re a is i oso a Lees binost vied Eker a SMT count qmeEeerers cs hal rags =Sri be SLT Thea eed ohen Dh bes pebtie blast Suy > ae {hast Lihoehei reed bas STG AARON = a SNR Shee Fo a2 arssussse!: = si 8 3 ~ 3 si oan ng ber =F ae eeh hs 3 phot? ———a CHAPTER. XI THE LIGHTNING IN THE CLOUDS OON I was on my way down the Sungari to Harbin, with a detailed report of our findings and with a bad leg and foot, which grew more and more painful every day. When we reached town, I at once presented my report on the coal and returned home to go to bed, having in place of hunghutzes, Georgians, geese and guns nothing more exciting than the daily visit of my doctor, who only shook his head and repeated critically and with aggravating persistence: “You are a madman, a real madman! With such a joint you ought to lie in bed for at least three months and then walk for six months with the aid of a cane, instead of which you make these foolhardy expeditions, go hunting, get wet and take cold.” “But, doctor,’ I protested, as I once lost patience un- der his criticisms, ‘“what a double I made on those two geese. And besides, remember I saw a candied Cossack.” He only waved his hand and grumbled, as he went out: “What you need is a brain specialist!” I did not, however, employ such a doctor, as my grumbling physician brought me round again; and, if I could not think of hunting, I could, with the help of my stick, make the journey to my laboratory. During my first days about I had a joint meeting with representa- tives of the Railway Administration and the General 116THE LIGHTNING IN THE CLOUDS rL7 Staff, in which I asked for sick leave and at the same time proposed that I be sent to St. Petersburg, where, while I was undergoing treatment, I might make the nec- essary purchases for the laboratory. The Railway Ad- ministration acquiesced at once, and the General Staff some days later sent me a notification that I had been decorated with the Order of St. Anna with crossed swords. As I was paying a visit in the household of one of my friends, who was unusually well informed as to matters in the St. Petersburg Government circles and in the war area, | heard about the intrigues against the Commander- in-Chief, about the quarrels and struggles among the members of the General Staff and about the Homeric excesses in the supplying of the army. One of my close acquaintances, a well-known and courageous regimental commander, told me, and gave me proofs of the state- ment, that some corps leaders had wittingly sent thou- sands of men to certain death, only to enable them to forward to General Kuropatkin, and through him to St. Petersburg, detailed and highly coloured reports of san- guinary battles, in the hope of receiving rewards for par- ticipation in these severe engagements. The lives of simple peasants, labourers, University youths, high- school students, in fact those of the whole grey mass of soldiers were wantonly sacrified just to bring to some individual distinction, reward or fame! In contrast with this, little effective work was being accomplished for the success of the war and nothing was being done to augment the transport capacity of the only railroad that could supply additional men and war materials. Whole trains of commissary supplies and clothing disappeared, while shoddy cloth and cheap boots, wet flour, spoiled bread and meat, fermented conserves nig bien ert oa se ae ee ULI IOP ET Sldh Zaye i nh hee nk De re TUNA eI i dilate ss mn SARE Oe Eri sh Ee BesROMA: — : chiens, paisa aes ee xa oe aa } au aot i Bee h\ ; ewido sr ies be oe NER casi sgauhe 120 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON mean the loss of many of his most necessary assistants, protested against any stich action and saved us. Still we remained under the surveillance of the political police, or secret service, which was used by the Government for the purpose of keeping in touch with, and suppressing the activities of, opponents of its policy among highly placed officials and others. Some days after this event, in the course of an official visit to certain military establishments in western Man- churia and Siberia, I found myself aboard the Siberian express, headed westward and meeting with ever-increas- ing frequency more and more of the military trains, laden with fresh forces for General N. P. Linievitch, who had been appointed to succeed Kuropatkin, after the latter’s dismissal as a result of the overwhelming catastrophe in the battle of Moukden, where the Russians lost one hun- dred and forty thousand men. In my imagination this iron caravan moved as a great, sad critique upon the futility of what had already gone before in this age-long repercussion of the westward movement of the Tartar hordes. There were the battle of Sha Ho, the unsuccessful operations of Grippenberg, the requests of Kuropatkin for the formation of the third army and the loss of this at Moukden, the capitulation of the powerful fortress of Port Arthur and finally the mad voyage of Admirals Rozhestvensky and Niebogatoff with a fleet of old and weak men-o’-war from the Baltic to the fatal Straits of Tsushima—all these stirred up terror and awe in the more thoughtful elements of Russian so- ciety. But there were other events in course of enactment, even more dangerous and more thrilling, which were shaking the foundations of the immense conglomerate Empire. These deflected public attention from the de-THE LIGHTNING IN THE CLOUDS 121 bacle in the Orient. It was Revolution, the Empire-wide tragedy! In this immense drama Fate decreed that I was to play a part. Numerous external and internal causes forced me to take this role. Of the latter I shall speak later on; of the former I need only say that they were uni- formly compelling. My name was well known among the Russian subjects in the East through the descriptions of my travels, through my work and lectures and, espe- cially, as a result of the telegram of protest against the conduct of the war, which drew down upon us signatories the enmity of the authorities but gained us the sympathy and respect of the civil population and of the subaltern officers and soldiers of the army. My work in co-opera- tion with the Staff of the Commander-in-Chief, a task which had, fortunately for me, been brought to a success- ful conclusion, gave me intimate relations with many of the High Command, who thus came to value my work and to count upon my services, even though, knowing my views on the war and on the work of some of the gen- erals, they also in a way feared me. Subsequent events as will be later seen, justified them in this feeling. But these developments only came about some months later. In the meantime I journeyed on to a new whirl- pool of events, terrible, implacable and bloody, as has been so much of the history of Russia, this country into which Europe and Asia have thrown, as upon a national rubbish heap, the worst element of other races and na- tions, hiding it all from the spectator with a thin cov- ering of civilization adorned here and there with bright patches of romanticism. As I look back now upon the events and thoughts of this intense period of my life, I see much that I might have avoided or might have done differently, in the light — — a wwe =r — sod B33 tanger 5 ty Sd. Co ear pa ey ~ Sf es a BE Ser eS EE PL a Oe ue eink elk DG Dee Sad a) 6 Lov ee s SERIE ee ee Ne! : = son SESS ECE OT Tae SETS ETE LA eee ra wisp ech keith dap LAR SGA a se en OT pehih gies 65% fed memento a jie nee J Se A Wer Ts ha aes aaronAEuiaDoE aA. a | 122 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON te Han | | of my present experience. And for this reason I have } | found it difficult at times to justify myself in giving all the details of some of our activities just as they were or of reviewing without editing the thoughts which activated a \ us. There is, consequently, a natural tendency to wish 3 to write into the record the viewpoint of to-day; yet, be in spite of this fact, I have sought to keep the narrative as close as possible to the physical events and the mental processes of those years themselves, in order that as true a picture as possible might be carried down. bebe TE ee ert eter: Tiled abi toete ite sR 3 one pienaen sr sisal 5 ey Ae ——— maneeee MURR eatNIRAS es eae suth pe SAR GU ER EAN eee bs Prete,Part II THE PRESIDENCY AND THE PRISONee! gS riteCHAPTER Xl THE CRIMSON TIDE OU eROUL my whole journey I observed every- where a marked change in the attitude of the people. In earlier chapters I have already noted the way senti- ment had changed among the Russian population of the Far East and even among the soldiers and officers of the army; but these changes had thus far amounted to nothing more than explosive outbursts of hope or of deep despondency and disaffection. Talks with my fellow-travellers made it clear to me that our Harbin telegram, protesting against the futile and aimless bloodshed, was only a feeble reflection of the feelings of Russia as a whole, about which we really knew almost nothing in our isolation at the front, where we were deceived with false reports and surrounded by the police net that allowed no unfavourable news from the west to slip through its meshes. I recalled then the unusual flare of hope among the Russians in Manchuria when the unhappy General Kuropatkin, surrounded as he was on every side with intrigue, was finally recalled to St. Petersburg after the disastrous defeat of his three armies at Moukden, and succeeded by the elderly General Linievitch. This change awoke that hope which comes so readily, often without real foundation, to the breast of the Russian, only to disappear after the smallest mishap like a momentary flash of lightning. 125 Maree terete s aire ek SS Gv AK pe —— - yee —_ ; Ares ig AT ysree PMP EE TPR IC RE EET IE TRE ET Ocha eiaes gs ctar Seng AL nd ae EFS Be Bas = aX — fai * - 7% er x fiw pep ncbis a Ue LT IE . Bier heen a ARP dS ee WIT eer ot BE ie mes mae ib oncns oe OPER ATT a rsh 2 ea 5 5 ln ae* “ zeta neh ie ain = al Lee wae 5 i GaIeSNe: Aa si A setae RD ES Ss irerern eee hae Suiaa Te css alt RR MOTE i 126 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON My fellow-travellers from Russia said that in Russia itself the people laboured under no illusions. The war was regarded as lost; the Tsar and the Government were hated. The hypocritical politics of the Tsar, through which his “beloved nation” was criminally deceived, made him especially detested. After the destruction of the Russian fleet by the Japanese, representatives of differ- ent elements and classes of the whole people formulated and presented to Nicholas a petition, in which the Gov- ernment was accused of inefficiency and a parliament de- manded. This document closed with the warning words: “Oh, Tsar, do not delay! In this terrible hour of na- tional catastrophe your responsibility before God and Russia is unspeakably great!” In response to the petition the Tsar promised the pro- mulgation of a decree providing for a parliament: but, when the passions and emotions of the people had cooled somewhat, he procrastinated and only afterwards, when new explosions revealed the indignation of his subjects and the whole country had become a vast network of revolutionary societies and parties, did he yield to the demand for a parliament, attaching the almost nullifying proviso that it should have only advisory powers without any rights of legislation. At the same time the political police were everywhere active, making arrests, banishment and the death sentence daily phenomena. When I finally learned, while still in St. Petersburg, that a general strike as a protest and as an accompaniment to a universal request for a parliament was in contemplation for the whole of Russia, during which the employees of all the railways, steamship lines, factories and offices, as well as those of the post and tele- graph services, were to go out, I understood that the Revolution, whose birth I had witnessed at the beginningTHE CRIMSON TIDE 127 of the year, was already developed and I, therefore, hastened my return to Harbin. The impending strike, however, caught me en route and caused such difficulties in transportation that I just managed to get through to Harbin. Here we learned that in some of the cities of Russia and Siberia the strike had been marked by street barricading and the fighting of workmen and University students with the police and the army. Then, throughout the whole vast Empire, sud- denly a foreboding silence fell. The straining ears of the listening Government and of its spies and executioners recognized and knew it well; but the police, the gen- darmes and the Tsar could do nothing against this hush, for it was a thing not to be caught and against which the machine guns and the rifles of the Tsar could not shoot. Finally, Nicholas was obliged to yield, but only under the pressing advice of his Minister of Finance, Count Witte. On October 17, 1905, he issued a manifesto, giving to the Government parliamentary form; but, in doing so, he drafted the statute creating the Duma in such a manner that the importance, influence and author- ity of this much-needed institution were very greatly and discouragingly diminished. As a matter of fact, the Imperial manifesto satisfied nobody. On the one hand, the reactionaries were furious over the fact that the Government had yielded; while, on the other, the revolutionists were displeased and dis- enchanted, inasmuch as the manifesto neither granted amnesty and liberation to the political prisoners nor settled the grievous agrarian question of land ownership, which was of such great importance to the peasants form- ing 85 per cent. of Russia’s population. This general discontent with the Tsar’s ukase mani- fested itself almost immediately in the two distinct camps. sp teeciacs Dare ngcy eds TA leD WERE ey 63 nme PO cEMUTL EEA A a pb eaheciaiae: a Te a et ee de a a Ind aS z pase pies Pid wll as —— eeetererer = ————— - Li IVY mw RAS ee ee eee eoensnsuihekan eee rye yy enon cepepeuie. st ane (fasjiRGRANTEN 4gGiblats 128 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON The reactionary elements, as well as the revolutionists, began to organize, and it was inevitable that a fight should break out between them. While I was in St. Petersburg, I saw even then the first indications of the formation of these organizations, presaging in unmistak- able terms their future activities. The reactionary forces began organizing what were called the “Black Hundreds” with the motto: “Monarchy, orthodox faith and Russian nationalism.’ These Black Hundreds were a strange mixture of class, social opin- ion and mental development, counting among their num- bers some of the highest of the aristocrats, such as Princes Volkonsky, Ukhtomsky and Meschtchersky, Count Bobrinsky, Dr. Dubrovin, the lawyers, Zamyslov- sky and Bulatsel, the priest, Vostorgoff, and Archbishop Makari, as well as many former criminal prisoners and a large representation from the jetsam of mankind in the big towns, that stratum of Russian humanity which has been so poetically described and idealized in the well- known writings of Maxim Gorky; while, right beside these types from the lowest layer of social life, were to be found such well-known scholars as Professors Mar- tens and Janjoull. After the manifesto of October 17th these Black Hundreds were amalgamated into one great organization for the whole Empire, taking for their name “The Union of the Russian Nation’ and having for their honorary president—the Tsar Nicholas II! Both this Ruler of All the Russias and the heir to the throne, the Tsarevitch Alexis, wore on their breasts the emblem of this Union, which was a state within the State, com- mitting and remaining unpunished for most bloody crimes. As this Union of the Russian Nation had for its object the suppression of the revolution and its child, the parlia-THE CRIMSON TIDE 129 ment, it accused the non-Russian elements in the popula- tion of the Empire—that is, the Poles, Georgians, Letts, Jews and many other subject peoples, as well as large sections of the intelligentsia—of liberal and revolution- ary ideas and of spreading these throughout the country. The revolutionary elements, composed of the most worth-while members of the intelligentsia, as well as of the workers and of all the professional unions, also or- ganized themselves and elected two principal bodies to prosecute the Revolution: first, the League of the Unions, the more moderate of the two, and, as the sec- ond, The Council of the Deputies of the Workers, a body with the most radically revolutionary views and tenden- cies and presided over by the lawyer Khrustaloff-Nosar. Synchronously the Union of the Russian Nation freely lavished funds in the formation of detachments composed of the ex-prisoners, criminals, beggars and those shifting individuals who, without any regular means of livelihood, spend their days around low cafés and their nights in the parks or in night refuges, fre- quently those watched over by a uniformed guard. These detachments soon began their activities in the cities and towns, so that the pogroms of 1905 swept like a bloody wave over some hundred or more of Russia’s unfortunate urban populations, returning a significant report of over four thousand people killed and some ten thousand wounded. One of these massacres in the city of Tomsk was en- tirely characteristic. It took place on October 20th and was described to me by a man who had been one of my former pupils in the High Polytechnic Institute and who was later a member of the Duma, Mr. A. A. Skorok- hodoff. A large gathering of the inhabitants of the - town, principally officials, professors, teachers and stu- Psy IP a 2 a a ag sto 4% bi Ls ma eee PUVEP OTA aA Sint wri Meme mv. wai ae est ri TAPAS 1 | oe on cp Ged he. ep pS ee ed -* SPAS EUjo AURA GORANIAE ae RG i a} i Pd Sse ee ees BEES CoRR : rs pet iG eee 130 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON dents, had assembled in the theatre to give expression to their joy over the Tsar’s manifesto, granting the modern constitution. While the townspeople in the theatre were listening to speeches on the importance of this epoch- making political act, a procession, composed of labourers of the lowest type, of stevedores from the docks along the Tom, of ex-prisoners and even of the inmates of the town prison, who had been specially released for this day, was formed and was marching through the streets. Among this crowd of wild, drunken and demoralized men moved agents of the political police, fanning their hatred and urging them on to acts of vengeance against the intelligentsia. A picture of the Tsar and some ecclesi- astical banners were borne at the head of the procession. When this mob, armed with cudgels, knives and black- jacks, drew up before the house of Bishop Makari, the “holy old man’ appeared on the balcony and blessed the procession, making a strong appeal to their patriotism, which was the paraphrase for the fight for unrestrained power of the Tsar. With this blessing of the man of the Church upon them, the mob marched straight to the theatre and fell to massacring the intelligentsia gathered there. The few who succeeded in escaping into the street were caught and despatched by cudgels or bullets or by being thrown into the river for the sport of the crowd. The ghastly total of those who perished on this day was twelve hundred souls, among whom was a distinguished Polish engineer, Klionowski, who at the time held the post of assistant to the Director-General of the Siberian Railway. I had personally known Bishop Makari. A small, thin old man, with an ascetic face recalling the Byzantine pic- tures of the saints, he was, however, the son of a Siberian peasant, possessed of a small stock of learning and whollyTHE CRIMSON TIDE steeped in the psychology of Tsarism and of the Ortho- dox faith. He was a sly, malignant and narrow-minded man, who persecuted all new or fresh currents of thought in the Church or in society. He made a name and a career for himself by spreading the faith among the natives of Altai, whom he first intoxicated with alcohol and then baptized while they were unconscious. After the Tomsk massacre he was rapidly advanced in the Church hierarchy, became Archbishop and after some years a member of the Synod, the council of the Ortho- dox Church, finally progressing to the post of Metropol- itan of Moscow. While he held this highest position in the Church, he incurred the displeasure of the Tsarina during the World War through associating himself with other high ecclesiastical dignitaries in a plot to demand from the Tsar the divorcing of his consort, who had brought upon herself the disapproval and hatred of some of the influential members of the Russian aristocracy. In this bloody manner, such as was manifested at Tomsk and was contrary to all the accepted standards of modern society, the organizations belonging to the Union of the Russian Nation prosecuted their aims in the name of Tsar, Faith and Country. In answer, the revo- lutionary and liberal groups acted in a manner very little different; for the Russian psychology of destruction here held the upper hand as well. These liberals and revolutionists realized that the forces of the intelligentsia and of the workers in the towns were not sufficienty strong to compel the Govern- ment and the Tsar to make a complete change in favour of an effective parliamentary control, and soon sensed the fact that they should have to thrust into the whirlpool of political struggle that great element of strength which could not be overpowered by an army faithful to the Tsar ‘yeeSH RODS ant as 132 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON | —the Russian peasant. The propaganda injected into Pi | this great mass of over a hundred million of unlettered, | trampled and desperate human souls was like a burning | torch flung into a mow of hay. In a trice the whole country was aflame. The Revolu- tion had become a peasant war and, fired to secure their - rights, these half-serfs began to raid the estates of the if big landowners, robbing the houses, carrying off the stores of grain and flour, driving away the stock and, in many cases, taking over the management and alleged ownership of the landlord’s fields. In these acts the de- stroying, criminal instincts of the Russian mass had free and fatal vent. Later I personally witnessed some of the results of this peasant uprising at “Manuilovo,” the estate of Mr. 5. M. Pavlovitch in the Government of St. Petersburg. Here the palatial, historic country residence, containing many mementoes of one of the greatest Russian story writers, Karamzin, who formerly lived there, was completely de- bs | molished. The furniture was hacked to pieces, irreplace- | able pictures were cut in ribbons, great mirrors were Hise smashed and the books made fuel for a bonfire in front of the great mansion. Thoroughbred horses were ham- | strung, hunting dogs were hung, while blooded cattle and prize sheep were slaughtered for meat. Similar acts were perpetrated in forty-nine of the governments of Euro- pean Russia and were especially violent in the Baltic ih provinces, where the Lettish peasants put to the sword their masters, the German barons, who were the descend- ants of the Teutonic Knights and had come under the | domination of Russia with the conquest of these western regions. This river of blood and destruction had its sources in the psychology of the Russians, regardless of whether uae: |) 1 rte eieee, = erated,THE CRIMSON TIDE 133 they belonged to the liberal and revolutionary parties hostile to the Tsar or to the reactionary Union of the Russian Nation, forwarding his wishes and ideas. It was all quite characteristic of the Russian nature, as it has often evinced itself. I observed the same phenomenon some years later during the war with Ger- many and Austria, when the Russian armies perpetrated the most awful massacres and the wildest scenes of pil- lage in the districts of Poland, East Prussia and Galicia, in which officers from the most aristocratic and cultured families took intimate part. Later I witnessed sickening instances of this Asiatic psychology of warring nomads in the fratricidal struggle under the Soviet regime, dur- ing which the Reds and the Whites rivalled each other in blood spilling, in the destruction of the national fortune accumulated through many generations, in cruelty and in criminal ingenuity. I do not know which of them was the worse, which the better; but I do know that they will both appear be- fore the throne of the Almighty Judge in robes covered with the blood of their brothers and of those innocent nations and tribes which have had the misfortune, by a stern decree of Fate, to have been conquered and domi- nated by the Russian Empire and afterward to have been ruled by the Soviet Republic. The blow dealt by the peasant war against the fighting power of the Tsar’s Government was very sore, as it led to many protests and revolts by peasants’ sons serving with the army and the fleet. These were the waves of the great bloody tide that followed me in my eastward journey through Siberia back to Harbin. Sag aoe —— —- , EON pa jieknd phe tune SWAN e AS ee mbedatitinb bi a ——— in Sita ea ae haaLaine in Maite er Aa bated x nee e3 sf sea et = JSR aR NE OEN HORNS = ee Ca RDA i aoe ae es Saree eee es iL ef Hi i GHAP DER XIIt THE BIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERN- MENT N Harbin I found life at the seething point. Many unions were organized, of which the largest and the most powerful, because of the culture and standing of its members, was the Railroad Union, composed of tech- nical experts, administrative officials and workers of various classes. While these steps were being taken, I learned that agents of the political police had arrived from Europe and had organized the Union of the Rus- sian Nation, as the leading members of which they ap- pointed Captain Yerofeieff, one of the prominent local merchants and some priests. Some of the railway tech- nical and administrative staff joined them. For a month there were no revolutionary activities attempted, the attention of the unions being centred upon the instruction of their members in political and social questions and in constitutional and civil law. Meanwhile great changes were taking place in the war area. The war was over and the army remained under the command of General Linievitch, encamped and await- ing evacuation at Ssupingkai, a station on the railway line about half-way between Moukden and Changchun. But the great trans-continental line across Siberia was in a very bad condition owing to the abnormal strains which had been put on it by the ceaseless transportation of 134BIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 135 soldiers and war materials. The natural shortage of cars, resulting from such uninterrupted use without sufficient time for repairs, was now aggravated by continued rail- way strikes west of the Urals, which held up the traffic so effectively that army evacuation trains would have been compelled to remain in the sidings at Siberian stations, where, with the inevitable shortage of food in sufficient quantities for such numbers of men, there would nat- urally have developed revolts, robberies and struggles. Owing to all these causes, General Linievitch was forced to retain the army in Ssupingkai and to make what slight progress he could by sending the men back in small groups by the regular trains. The army had by this time, of course, learned about the peace which had been made at Portsmouth through the intervention of America’s great President, Theodore Roosevelt, and was awaiting with impatience a speedy return to Russia. This delay in the evacuation angered and antagonized the soldiers to a degree which mani- fested itself in some regiments in the form of revolts that brought much trouble and concern to the High Com- mand. Though during these first weeks life in Harbin was comparatively quiet, we were not destined to remain pas- sive witnesses to the great tragedy that was being enacted on the vast stage of Russia from the Austro-German frontier to the shores of the Pacific. On November 23, 1905, the Railroad Union in Harbin received a telegram from the Central League of Unions at Moscow, announc- ing that at one o’clock on the night of the 24th a general strike of all railway, postal and telegraph employees would begin, to support the demand for the abolition of the death penalty so lavishly dealt out by the specially instituted field tribunals in Poland and Finland and the ' ~ 7 rec et — oie ths roe PESTA Gl ed epee pi th yt wpe bes abs 98 PCL ee Oe ee Se sty136 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON demand for the suspension of martial law in Poland and in certain other parts of the Empire where, through this | | military control, the lives of the people were in the hands | of the field tribunals. On the day the telegram was received a large general meeting was held in the rooms of the Railway Club, at which the opening speech was delivered by one of the a senior civil engineers of the Chinese Eastern Railway, fa || Ignace Nowakowski, a Pole, who explained the signifi- a cance of the protest of the Railroad Union and spoke of the crimes of the Government which forced the Russian nation and the peoples united with it, through being mem- bers of its body politic, to futile and bloody civil war. Spurred on by this spirited and powerful speech, the meeting decided to select and empower a general, euid- ing committee to take over the control and assume the administration of the Russian Far East. In the election of its members, which was participated in by the Euro- peans in Manchuria and by the representatives of Vladi- vostok and the other east Siberian towns which had been telegraphically informed regarding the developments Nowakowski and I were chosen and with us the follow- ing Poles:t W. Sass-Tisowski, M. Juszczynski, E. | Ceglarski and ‘A. Kozlowski. Among the Russians elected were the Assistant Director-General of the Chi- nese Eastern Railway, W. Lepeshinsky and the General | Traffic Manager, K. von Dreyer. The total number on | the Committee was fifty-six. An hour after the general meeting adjourned, the Committee assembled for its initial meeting to select its | executive board. It was then that I had conferred upon 1 For a clear exposition of the reasons for Polish participation in the Revolution of 1905, see the Russian edition of L'H istoire Politique de l'Europe Contemporaine, vol. ii, pp. 522-524, by Charles Seignobos, Professeur de la Faculté des Lettres de l'Université de Paris. FSGS AN RH HES oom RjApcWHVEn ar Se anne Aaa em es i ine a SeaBIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 137 me an honour which carried in its train more of suffering and sacrifice than I should ever have cared to accept, had the delegates who expressed their confidence in my ability counted among them but one prophet who might have sketched for me the developments the coming two years had in store for the President of the Committee of Gov- ernment of the Russian Far East. My first official act was to despatch telegrams to the Commander-in-Chief, General Linievitch, to the chief in command of the administration in the rear of the armies, General N. J. Ivanoff, and to the Director-General of the Chinese Eastern Railway, General D. L. Horvat, an- nouncing to them that the Committee had assumed ad- ministrative control of the whole life of the country, that it ordered the cessation of the passenger train service on the railway but that it directed an increase in the military trains in order that the soldiers might be rapidly trans- ported to European Russia to defend the rights of the people and to oppose the criminal acts of the Government. Constructive activity began at once, and, in contrast to what was expected, everyone worked during this strange “strike” three or four times as hard as usual. It was not long after the despatch of the telegram be- fore I had a visit from an aide-de-camp specially sent by General Linievitch, who told me it was his superior’s conviction that only the Central Committee could pre- vent a revolt in the army and that General Linievitch had full trust in it and counted upon it to save a difficult situ- ation. On the strength of this message we issued a proclamation to the army, explaining the present status of affairs in Russia and the duties of the soldier-citizens. Following this, quiet was gradually restored throughout the army and our influence grew daily, largely due to our expediting of the evacuation service, to our improvement ae : ¥ wwe ete) e H = . Sewn yey are caeek asian’ allelits Gees aalees pnp bbb stare Pie} SJ eres eae meee iano = Annas Sear aK ee Re TE . aiiiinees ki ch Theete bree tre WIL Ue pt Shithe oink? CT wee 3 bE Tiptrire tie , rth sear hy sribenies eR ROAST RTE eee ae Tes Seas as re aie) Aa | ial eo Py om Mai Tiere ett 138 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON of the food conditions for the detachments remaining in quarters and to our distinct bettering of both the medical service and the general treatment of the soldiers. These successes of our Committee won the approval of the other committees working in the remaining large centres of the Far East and confirmed their acknowledg- ment of its leadership throughout the whole region. This brought under our control an immense area of eastern Siberia, stretching from the northern boundary of Man- churia to the Arctic Ocean and reaching eastward through the regions of the Amur and the lower Primorsk to the Korean frontier, as well as that part of Manchuria which lay north of the final battle line of the armies. The chief representatives of the former Russian author- ity in these regions also acknowledged our control, as was evidenced by the fact that General Linievitch asked our advice in all important matters and had my signature stand jointly with his on all the orders he issued for the army. General Horvat also acted as adviser to our Com- mittee and accepted its authority, just as all the town and village administrations recognized our position and read- ily came under our supervising direction. Only General Ivanoff, though he did not openly protest, seemed to base his actions upon some esoteric knowledge of future events. We learned later that, while recognizing us and apparently working with us, this treacherous General had affiliations with the political police and with The Union of the Russian Nation, which had in contemplation the sowing of dissension in our Committee. On the fifth day of our existence we received the first blow against our authority, when half of the Committee, made up of the representatives of the workers, left our body with the announcement that they did not wish to co-operate with the itelligentsia and that they wouldform a committee of their own. Failing in my attempts to arrive at an understanding with the leaders of this new organization, I could do nothing more than delimit strictly their sphere of activities, leaving to them the management of the life of the workshops and the stores of the railway, with the distinct understanding that they were in nowise to interfere with the operations of the Chief Committee. A locksmith from European Russia, one F. Ivanoff, was chosen chairman of this Workers’ Committee. Colonel Zaremba, a Pole and the Chief of Police in Harbin, and his associate, Captain von Ziegler, a German, confidentially informed me that Ivanoff was a secret agent of the political police, had close relations with the Union of the Russian Nation and was put in his present place to start a civil war in the Far East, with the idea that he should induce the army to join in the struggle of the working masses against the intelligentsia and thus give the Government an excuse for sending a punitive expedition to the Far East to liquidate the rey- olution in the territory of the Manchurian army. The plan was well laid with that subtle, Byzantine treachery which always characterized the Tsar’s Govern- ment and which, in unchanged form, is equally charac- teristic of that of the Soviets. I saw quite distinctly the extent and seriousness of the danger before me; but I was young then and without experience, though I did possess one very useful quality for the president of a temporary government, into which the course of rapidly moving events metamorphosed our Committee. I was daring—and I profited simply and directly from my bold- ness. Taking with me one of my associates in the Commit- tee, a young official from the railway, named Vlasienko, I started off in my drosky, drawn by my beautiful white BIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 139tase Wit ted Bat rertenre eb ibe astm Gia aT reer 7) Had ik on z BG eae Err 140 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON Arab, Nizam, as wise and reserved as Ben-Akiba, the Arabian philosopher, himself. Why did I choose Vlast- enko? The reason was quite simple and clear: I had the intention of paying three calls where I should need, be- sides the ordinary visiting cards and smooth persuasive words, some positively convincing arguments. Vlasienko possessed such arguments. I had seen them once, when, during a stormy meeting of the Committee, at which a faction of the workers sought to make a disturbance, Vlasienko, when he could no longer listen with patience to the tedious and stupid protests the labour members were making, hammered the corner of the table with his fist with such emphasis that he broke it. It at once oc- curred to me that this man would be a very useful com- panion to convince anyone whom I was seeking to influ- ence with the justice—or at least with the excellent back- ing—of my arguments. Vlasienko had formerly served as a sergeant in the Hussars at the Tsar’s Court and was known for his phenomenal strength. With this convincing companion I started out to pay my calls. First we went to Captain Yerofeieff. When he saw me, he was distinctly troubled, which gave him quite away. I informed him at once that I knew about his underground work as President of the Union of the Russian Nation and that I was acquainted also with his associates and his purposes in the dealings he was carry- ing on. “T have come to make your acquaintance and to inform you of the consequences of your activities, as I do not wish to make these too disagreeable for you.” “What can threaten me?” he exclaimed rather haughtily. “A revolutionary judgment, sir; and, begging your pardon, a noose,” I answered quietly. We parted withBIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 141 ceremonial politeness, and I left with him a final word: “We do not jest, Captain. My visit to you is but the first act. I play the part of the angel Azrael. Good-bye.” Our visit to the second leader of the Black Hundred, the merchant Chistiakoff, was similar to the first. He received me and my advice very calmly and grunted, as we were leaving: “We shall see.” “We shall certainly see,” Vlasienko at once replied; “but this interview will be the last one between us.” The third visit proved more thrilling. We found the chairman of the Workers’ Committee in his lodgings drinking with three companions. Bottles of vodka and sausage scraps littered the oilcloth-covered table. At our entrance they rose, breathing heavily, a condition that was probably due more to the alcohol than to their emo- tions. “Mr. Ivanoff, you are an agent of the political police and you are seeking to start a civil war in the East, in which you hope to involve the army, to destroy the effects of all our work. I know all the facts and can give proof of them to the workers’ tribunal. I give you three days in which to leave Manchuria, for ever, failing which you will be arrested and .. .” I was not quite sure what to say, when Vlasienko, in his clear tenor voice, finished the sentence for me with the word: caers lain oy a Ivanoff’s eyes flashed, as he made a quick movement in the direction of the bed. But Vlasienko was quicker and snatched a big Nagan revolver from under the pil- low. Then he calmly opened it, ejected the cartridges into the palm of his hand, slipped them into his pocket and quietly replaced the weapon with the apology:iz re eb ath Tay ny i nb nd: Sanne i Siete tertg te a Saini aie TRE RR 142 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “T beg your pardon.” Our host and his visitors exchanged significant glances. My hand stole quickly to the pocket of my coat where I was carrying my Browning, but Vlasienko assumed the role of quieting our adversaries. He bent down and raised a heavy wooden bench, doing it with such grace and giving such an impression of ease that the savage-’ looking quartette dropped their eyes and subsided. “Well, then, I give you three days in which to make up your minds,” I repeated, and, together with Vlasienko, left the den of this agent of the Tsar’s Government, where under the stimulus of vodka, criminal plans, full of blood and treachery, were elaborated. On the follow- ing day I learned that the Workers’ Committee—or, as it was called “The Little Committee’—were electing a new chairman, inasmuch as Ivanoff had disappeared. It was evident that, for the moment, my words and the arguments of Vlasienko had frightened him. However, the newly chosen chairman did not succeed in calming or did not try to calm the mass of labourers, for many times during the succeeding days I was shown proclamations issued by the Little Committee, in which the soldiers and sailors were urged and incited “to mur- der all the officers, to divide all their equipment and to attack the towns where the hated intelligentsia and bour- geoisie lived.” Telegrams brought word that such proclamations as these made a very distinct impression upon the workers in many of the Siberian centres, especially Vladivostok, Habarovsk, Nikolaievsk on the Amur and Blagove- schensk, where the workers began developing riotous tendencies and breaking away from the control of our Central Committee. In Nikolaievsk wild gangs of the scum of mankind, composed very largely of fugitivesBIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 143 from the prisons, who worked in the fishing industry at the mouth of the Amur, robbed the stores of their em- ployers and burned their houses; in Blagoveschensk a crowd of drunken workers from the gold-mines attacked the bank in an effort to reach the concrete vaults where the gold ingots were kept; and General Linievitch wrote to me that the proclamations of the Harbin group were not without echoes in the army and that these echoes were invariably followed by harsh sentences in the mili- tary courts. Conditions were such that our Committee suddenly found itself facing two distinct enemies, the first of which was coming from the west in the form of the penal de- tachments of the most reactionary Generals, Meller and Rennenkampf, whose aim was to throttle the revolution- ary movement in Siberia. From the Urals to Transbai- kalia the courts-martial sent hundreds of men to death on the gallows or by shooting. General Rennenkampf had already worked eastward through Transbaikalia and was nearing the Manchurian frontier. Our second enemy was none other than the Little Com- mittee, whose intention was to instigate a civil war and to destroy the morale of the army, so that it could not be effectively used in support of the revolution. This was the much more dangerous of the two, as we knew that anarchy would follow in the wake of its victory, an anarchy of the most terrible kind, inasmuch as it would be directed by the most wild, the most immoral and the most cruel of individuals, who were numerous in the Rus- sian Far East. The activities of this Little Committee were but the earnest of the deeds of Lenin and Trotzky, when these two, thirteen years later, put the power for the execution of their plans into the hands of proven crimi- * wy . ay eR Te stabes 945 TAD pa 4 genomes ae PRT ey ELT RTT Ww = 2 < piintapihd ciSiaie oss bey LeeLee aah ne a a ON, Sherer egies pi 2— SUES HA aT ine BinHe be See PONE ESP PONT Tae TE os pike oa - x 5 be pe 23 af tet —— aia Ra > RS SERRE HT Seen 144 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON nals. However, we had yet heard and known nothing of Bolshevism, but we understood the whole danger of anarchy, to which the Little Committee of the unen- lightened workers was being heedlessly driven by the promptings of the political police and of the Union of the Russian Nation. In addition to these two foes we had ever before us the possibility of a third being developed, if our powers of accomplishment relaxed or if circumstances should go badly against us. This was the army. If the evacuation, which we were now superintending, were for any reason to be held up, the army would throw itself upon us, and then, in a flood of blood, the Central Committee, the workers and the town population would be drowned, while even the army itself would be largely destroyed by the want of food, after anarchy had cut off its regular supplies and its possibilities of transport to the more settled parts of western Siberia. Events thus compelled us to become the defenders of law and order throughout the whole East, this order which the Tsar’s authorities and the High Command of the army could not now maintain. We had consequently to fight on three fronts to fulfill our task, which exacted from us unbounded energy, fearless decision and well- elaborated plans. We began our active struggle in fighting General Ren- nenkampf, whose trail through Siberia to the eastern borders of Transbaikalia was piteously marked by the bodies of the revolutionaries, upon whom he had visited his cruelties. In telegrams broadcasted throughout the East he threatened the Central Committee with dire pun- ishment, describing it as a “revolutionary government” that could expect no leniency. At this, indignation and panic spread through the Far East. Not only the LittleBIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 145 Committee but some of my associates in the central body became panicky and recommended the blowing up of railway bridges to check Rennenkampf’s advance after he should cross the Manchurian frontier. As these de- mands grew in insistency, I asked General Linievitch to endeavour to avert the catastrophe by stopping Rennen- kampf. Linievitch properly sensed the impending dis- aster and issued orders that the approaching penal de- tachment was to turn back from Transbaikalia. This came as a distinct blow to the opposing forces, as the officers of the cruel General had already begun their investigations and the preparation of a list of revolu- tionary leaders, who were to be summoned before the military courts and, by natural consequence, shot. On this list it turned out that my name stood, contrary, alas, to all alphabetic precedence, in the first place. The question led to a lively correspondence between General Linievitch and General Rennenkampf, who was operating under specially conferred powers. No one was prepared to foretell the outcome of it all, when a very unexpected event wrought a peculiar and entirely unan- ticipated solution. The son of a railway official, who had been shot by order of Rennenkampf, threw a bomb at the latter’s car. Although the General happened at the moment not to be in the car and therefore escaped injury, he sensed through this act the element of per- sonal danger and consequently acquiesced in the demand of Linievitch that he return to European Russia, thus relieving our Committee of the danger that was threat- ening us on the west. The next battle in our struggle was that with the Little Committee, which was making ever-increasing use of anarchistic methods and was having its forces augmented by particularly efficient individuals smuggled through to = See a ee ot wei ea pepnt rete ees Libba ne pe enetines is elas a = are 4. i kis aeine LTD genet Le ene —— ae Sarre irsra Nl beer aD A eT as 5 dis eae see Soe at oe epee els kus heR EEE Fe en es BETS EOL EPI ee Oe Lingee Pesos’ su ethh bpd,reas +~ Be jis citkel MIME RDB 146 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON | it by the political police and with officers from the Rennen- | kampf detachment. Besides, under the mask of socialism, } some of the members of the fighting detachments of the Union of the Russian Nation coming from the west be- gan to join the organization, which confirmed the infor- mation coming to us that the Little Committee had started to organize a fighting detachment to fall upon the intelligentsia and bourgeoisie, who were maintaining the State and social order in the Russian Far East. It was very difficult for us to know how to reach these members and adherents of the Little Committee, who were maddened by their ideas of revolt against the social order. A way out was found by the versatile Nowakow- ski, an austere, white-haired man, who commanded the respect of all with whom he came in contact. Among the workers on the railway there were many Polish labourers, who had originally been brought to the East by the Polish engineers who constructed the Chinese Eastern Railway. In addition to these the railway employees counted a large number of non-Russian labourers, chiefly Letts, Germans, Italians and Chinese. All of the European element in this body of workers, as a result of their cul- tural training, were the natural opponents of anarchy and refused to give their support to this feature in the working programme of the Little Committee. The wise Nowakowski, profiting by this condition of affairs, called together the non-Russian Europeans among the labourers | and through them set up a strong opposition in the ranks of the Little Committee’s partisans. At the same time we sought to influence the Chinese labourers and the smaller groups of western Europeans through the medium of the Chinese officials and of the representatives of the other states. In this effort we succeeded suffi- ciently to see the board of the Little Committee, which ¥ DENRA a GRAR RARER 28 + ee t, ie rise aber —— tana fea RAATBIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 147 was composed entirely of anarchists, lose a great many of its supporting helpers and followers, and to give us the hope that in the next election we should be able to influence the voting enough to introduce some more loyal members into the board itself. When the difficulties from this quarter had been over- come it seemed as though our chief danger had disap- peared; but we had hardly time to take any satisfaction from our apparent progress before a new enemy was re- vealed right in the midst of our own organization. Un- expected conflicts developed between our republican, monarchist and socialist members and made us feel that the mechanism of our organization had been spoiled. It was only subsequently I learned that our enemies had invaded our very stronghold and had worked up an oppo- sition. In spite of this, however, we continued all our regular activities, with the sole difference that we had great difficulty in carrying through our programme in the face of quarrels, intrigues and a veritable flood of critical oratory, which were the means employed by the opposi- tion to discredit and weaken the Committee’s authority. To give birth to the most insignificant regulation neces- sitated an excruciating labour of speeches, propositions and counter-propositions; and, as the Committee now numbered sixty-three members, this process in the “little parliament,” as J dubbed it, consumed entirely too much time. A mass of important matters were held in abey- ance by these filibustering methods. I realized fully our danger and clearly saw what it would mean if the direc- tion of the civic life of the Far East should slip from our hands and events should be allowed to follow their chaotic course. Under the pressing necessity of these unfavourable developments I decided to stage a coup d’état and, after148 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON fa yt | | | consultation with some of my older and more experienced ba | | associates, especially Nowakowski, Lepeshinsky and von al Lied Dreyer, I accused the Committee at its next sitting, in the presence of the electors, of paralysing obstruction, fol- lowing this with the announcement that the body as a whole was from that moment dissolved and only five of its leading members retained in a new Executive Committee to control and administer certain features of the social and public life in the Far East. Following quickly upon this radical move, there came to us expressions of con- | fidence from the foreign population of Harbin and Vladi- vostok. Naturally we had made for ourselves new ene- mies but, at the same time, we had restored our ability to act quickly and effectually. General Linievitch also expressed his approval of this turn of events, but General Ivanoff, who was sympathetic with the aims of The Union of the Russian Nation, began to agitate openly against us, fostering antagonism in the Little Committee and in the reactionary groups, while bombarding St. Petersburg with continuous telegrams urging the necessity of dismissing General Linievitch and of arresting our Committee of Five. Following these activities, we were obliged to inform General Ivanoff that | his actions had occasioned such indignation that the Five could not be held responsible if his life were attempted ! by terrorists, as we knew that Vlasienko, referred to above as a very active former member of the Central : Committee, had collected a group of daring individuals, iz who only awaited an opportunity to shoot down the reac- ie | tionary Generals Nadaroff, Batianoff and himself, as ! | well as all the agents of the political police with Fie- | dorenko, the Colonel of Gendarmes, at their head. The leaders of the local Harbin police, Colonel Zaremba and Captain von Ziegler, together with the Chief of Police atBIRTH OF THE FAR EASTERN GOVERNMENT 149 Vladivostok, gave their assistance in ferreting out these agents, so that, through our knowledge of their personnel, we effectively held this group in check and prevented them from making any active or concerted move. Gen- eral Ivanoff was thoroughly frightened and remained guarded in his house. Meanwhile, we also paid marked attention to the con- ditions in the army, which had been demoralized by the Little Committee and the reactionary groups through the numerous proclamations, calling upon the soldiers to murder their officers, rob the houses of the civil popula- tion and revenge themselves upon the ruling Five. We found a means of fighting this danger in the psychology of the soldiers left in Manchuria. We knew that these men had only one wish, to return to Russia as quickly as possible. Profiting by this, we issued a proclamation ask- ing the soldiers’ confidence in the Five, inasmuch as its sole aim was to maintain calm and normal life in the Far East to enable it to evacuate the army as rapidly as possible under the best conditions of transport and main- tenance that could be secured. We spent considerable sums of money, giving extra pay to workers engaged in the rapid construction of warm cars for the soldiers and in providing food supplies at the larger stations. We controlled the administration at the front and convinced the Commander-in-Chief of the necessity of summoning before the tribunals such officers and officials as were dishonest in their handling of army matters. Most im- portant of all, we increased the number of evacuation trains. In this manner the danger threatening us from the army was not only overcome but was turned into an asset; for in addition to the soldiers passing Harbin on their way home voicing their enthusiasm for the work of our Committee, General Linievitch also received fromee i _ ne pe cenare : — pao Sabet Es oe ee saets rama bane bed iis Rapa ie vue > ee Tey e $ cS ¥ nae i s a Sere: rer be: SRA EN ONE pus ss AED oh 2 i By nee 3g ae tee Asa tie 150 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON St. Petersburg commendation for the excellent organiza- tion of the new evacuation movement. Once more calm reigned in the Far East. We knew that in Russia and in Siberia the Revolution had been strangled and that the leaders of the temporary govern- ments had been shot or hung. Only our Five still pos- sessed full power and freedom of action. Seeing clearly the futility of continuing, we decided to dissolve our or- ganization and return to our former occupations. It was a source of no little satisfaction to us when General Linie- vitch, on being informed of our intention, asked me not to carry through our plans for dissolution, as he feared the tactless rule of the gendarmerie that would immedi- ately follow, new outbursts of indignation, disorders in the army and the chances of a new disaster. “Continue your work,” he urged. “I hold myself re- sponsible for it, as I consider it absolutely necessary.” Under this impetus we continued functioning, even though we saw standing out clearly before us the spectre of the revenge of the Tsar’s Government, a spectre of no uncertain appearance.CHAPTER Xv THE FICKLENESS OF POWER NONYMOUS letters reminded us with ever-increas- ing frequency of the approaching danger of death at the hands of the reactionaries and anarchists, informed us of the death sentences already pronounced against us in St. Petersburg or put us on guard by giving us infor- mation with reference to the days fixed for the attacks against us. We were always armed and had Vlasienko with his group for our guard. The appointed days passed and left me quite unhurt, though I often noticed that I was being shadowed. Mysterious individuals ap- peared to be constantly on my trail, though there seemed no need for so much hiding of their movements. In just a few days I had proof of some of these threat- ened activities in what occurred at my office. Something jingled, as though a stone had struck the window pane, while in the opposite wall a whitish spot of chipped plaster appeared. Evidently the marksman was not very skilful; but, quite as evidently, another and better shot could easily be found and then there would be three holes instead of two. In spite of the fact that a similar at- tempt took place at Lepeshinsky’s residence, the work of the Five was not interrupted. During one of the Committee’s sittings I was called out at about ten o’clock in the evening by an attendant, who presented me with the card of a gentleman who had 151 GPS, ot ia vag Beer, 3 uy ¢ wpcihs Cree i ee are epg gh ANAS a ET 4 z 5 4 v6 SEED ore Ei Sal bn nlp Lap lm alt eal "= Santee Me A eT ee ee eam ce See sept hfe cust ores ob Tee 5 ss Pa ag ag sa ITP FT pia accra da pe Se epee Baise asc aut cpa a NO oc OUR GRIN aaa ie Pee —— Se ~ emer 152 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON some very important communication to make to me. As I descended the stairs into the reception-room, where I usually received visitors, I found no one there and, on asking the hall man on duty, was told that a gentleman had been waiting for me but had stepped out on the terrace to smoke. I followed to the terrace but found no one. Looking carefully around, I made out some figures hiding in the shrubbery that grew in front of the Rail- way Club, where we held our meetings. Understanding what sort of guests I had, I drew my revolver from my pocket and advanced toward them. It is difficult to know just what would have occurred among the shrubs, pow- dered with snow, if Vlasienko, learning that I was out- side, had not come bolting out with two companions and swooped down in my direction with loud shouts. Fright- ened by this clever show of force, the men behind the bushes broke and fled with Vlasienko’s trio in pursuit, though, unfortunately, my callers managed to slip away among the huts and shops to the south of the open space beyond the Railway Club. Vlasienko returned in a rage over the fact that he had recognized one of the fleeing men as the anarchist Ivanoff, Recounting to the Committee what had hap- pened, he requested permission to be allowed to arrest the leaders of the reactionary groups known to us in the hope that he might find among them this anarchist agent of the political police. Some days later, while working at home, I noticed a distinct smell of smoke, called my man-servant and or- dered him to find out where the fire was. Before he had time to leave the room, I saw smoke coming up through the crevices in the floor and ran down with him into the cellar to find a large bundle of kaoliang stalks, which had been put in through a cellar window andTHE FICKLENESS OF POWER 153 ignited. A few buckets of water were all that was neces- sary to extinguish the fire, which was only fortuitously prevented from becoming a serious affair. Attempts in other quarters proved more disastrous to us, notably one where some undiscovered incendiaries made such 12 successful blaze in one of the official build- ings that the firemen had the greatest difficulty in saving a whole quarter of wooden structures from the ravage of the flames. The following morning Captain von Ziegler paid me a visit to inform me they had reliable information that a further attempt would be made against my house and that I should be on my guard. Under the insistence of my associates on the Committee of Five that I profit by the warning, I lodged in the houses of my friends, letting no one know in which of them I was to spend the night. All in all it was a most nervous time for us, with these local attempts against us being supplemented by the news from St. Petersburg that the Tsar’s Government had successfully suppressed the revolutionary movement and was coralling all the prominent leaders for a period of trials whose results were clearly foreseen. We were told that investigating judges were already on their way to eastern Siberia and that secret instructions had been issued to the political agents working throughout the Far East. As these foreboding tidings frightened the Little Com- mittee, the most prominent of the leaders and agitators among the workers began to flee from Manchuria, accus- ing us of having “drawn them into the revolution” and seeking thus to transfer all the responsibility upon those of us who were unquestionably marked. Some members of the Little Committee even went to General Ivanoff to assure him of their loyalty and to ask for help. The General promised them this and was also of the opinion avian enema ——— es TA SA BS TTT TLS “ Spore = sf eteeneerer tess nee are£ 2 i — i 154. FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON FyclsCcaae ba alae Os aa that the whole responsibility lay with the Central Com- mitee. At the same time we received from the Central | League of Unions, whose directors were now hiding in | Moscow, a telegram ordering us to suspend the public activities of the Revolutionary Government of the Far East but to continue to function as a secret organization, exerting an influence upon the trend of affairs in the Orient. As I rehearse these events, I remember the last sitting of our Committee as clearly as though it were but yester- day. After having considered all the conditions and hav- \ ae ing carefully evaluated the political situation in Euro- et || pean Russia, we reached the conclusion that both our own body and the Little Committee must be dissolved. The most difficult question was how to secure from the Little Committee the decision for dissolution. Knowing full well that the revenge of the St. Petersburg Govern- , ment would not fail to reach us, we did not want any | greater number of people to suffer than was absolutely necessary and we felt that there were not too serious grounds for charges against the Little Committee on the basis of their activities up to date. But we had been informed that, after the departure of some of the most active members, who had fled to escape judgment, the an- archistic and criminal elements reigned supreme and would introduce such policies, after our Committee should dissolve, that blood would submerge the whole country and that a terrible revenge by the St. Petersburg Government would inevitably follow. ) It was already two o’clock in the morning, and the five | | of us were still deliberating as to the best method for bringing the life of the Little Committee to a close. Sud- denly an idea struck me and I made a decision, not en- tirely clear and detailed but full of determination. I told ne i ce aR, ah iret se saudi sisdueeanseaGlicalnstinnsooetoaeaae pes a iG ae —— sven semATUUR tHE aoe ; a il 35: tt as x ae Sg NT IE sot ids ae 4 +4 a St aa I aa Bi — iTHE FICKLENESS OF POWER Iss my comrades that I should at once deal with the Little Committee and left the room. It was only the work of a few moments to telephone to my house and have my coachman Nicholas, a young and clever lad, before the building with my drosky drawn by the white Nizam. I ordered him to drive to the headquarters of the Little Committee. We rattled rapidly through the sleeping town until we began threading our way through the laby- rinth of narrow streets in the quarter near the railway workshops and finally drew up before a long, old bar- racks, where the sessions of the Little Committee were held. Through the dirty panes of the windows I could dis- cern a rather numerous gathering, seated around a big table and engaged in a lively discussion. Quietly tip- toeing closer, I made out among them the local chair- man of the Union of the Russian Nation. I ordered Nicholas to keep watch through the window and, when I should take off my cap, to run up and down outside and make a great outcry. With these preparations made, I flung the door sharply open and entered. My appearance was so unexpected that all of them jumped to their feet and stood as though waiting for me to make the next move. This lasted but a few seconds, when a man with a cap pulled low over his eyes, who stood behind the table, snatched up the revolver which was lying among the papers before him and fired at me. The bullet whistled somewhere near but only buried itself in the wall. Nicholas then came to my rescue by pummelling the window frame with his fists, running up and down with shouts and cries and generally giving the impression that I had a large company of sup- porters outside. Again everyone was petrified. “Arrest this man!’ I commanded, pointing out the Pe Se = n eee se ai aan anne ee. a ri dark SAE eea 2 1 ad of : ' 3 1s Boe we bat ee ceed 5 eee RES ot % af ni \ yi be Be i ¥ : a 156 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON man with the revolver. “Your building is surrounded by my men, so that no one can escape.” Two of the workers overpowered him, took his firearm trom him and set to work carefully tying his arms with a leather thong that lay near by. During this time Nicho- las raged outside. His shouts and commands sounded almost continuously, very skilfully giving the impres- sion of several people shouting at once. As soon as the tying of the man was accomplished, I stepped up to the table and said in decisive tones: “Sit down. The Central League of Unions has issued orders for the dissolution of all revolutionary organiza- tions. The Central Committee is already dissolved. The Workers’ Committee ought also to be disbanded at once. Write out a resolution to this effect for me to take away, and to-morrow everyone who is afraid of acknowledg- ing responsibility will do well to flee as far as he can.” Without protest they wrote out the short resolution which I dictated, signed it and affixed their seal. With this document in my pocket, I turned to the man who had fired at me, ordered him to be brought to where I was standing and only then recognized him as the an- archist Ivanoff. “Now,” I said, turning back to the men at the table, “all of you remain in your seats and do not move until I can withdraw my men, who are under orders to shoot. You, Ivanoff, will go with me. Come along!” I went out with Ivanoff following me, sheltering me from a possible shot from behind. I tumbled him into the carriage and ordered Nicholas to drive us as rapidly as possible to the Central Committee. Half an hour later Ivanoff was already in prison, where Colonel Zaremba was to take care of him. The astonishment of my associates was pleasantly profound,THE FICKLENESS OF POWER 157 when I presented them with the act of renunciation of the Little Committee. This night our sitting was taking place in the right wing of the immense administration building of the Chinese Eastern Railway close to the telegraph office, as we needed to communicate rapidly and without interrup- tion with the other towns of the Far East, for we were under the pressure of liquidating at once all our affairs and were facing the necessity of working the whole night to accomplish this end. However, before dawn we were interrupted by the shouts and whistles of the night watch- man. As we sprang to the windows and saw the glare of fire, we understood the cause of the commotion. We immediately made for the door, to learn the location of the blaze, but found to our surprise that it was barred on the outside. When we succeeded in breaking it open, a disheartening sight confronted us. Long tongues of flame were already spurting out with nasty hissing from under the eaves and around the window frames of the main section of the great building. Already the roar of gathering force was plainly audible, and dense clouds of smoke had begun to envelop the whole structure. As we reached the ground, it was too late to attempt to cross the big enclosed court, so that we had to go out by a side passage to the street at the north and make our way round to the Place before the great eastern facade, where a big crowd had gathered. All this immense office build- ing, covering fully ten acres of ground, was everywhere ablaze, for simultaneous fires had evidently been set in many sections of it. As the avaricious fingers of flame began to tighten and crush the roof, the whole interior shone through the windows like the molten mass of a blast furnace. Though the firemen and the sappers worked feverishly, A EPS T TR BE HS Sp ED YR LL PS LE ogi yiecaR EE cepiadg cers rp eek a-ring reteesies Baus ean on ed ppt aed ose) os ee Tash Can gr be Reb teh iba sk 43 bod smn fn RC Fi bestia reid, ry oad wy a PUP ey RRP Me 2s ahs oe meats bee eemnie e reksh caer aee Tea Spa iere = ioaseiatr tA OND Sa a RE IR tas NR IDO MGR TREE smARNRREAN ee a ee 158 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON all they could do was to try to confine the fire to the building and not allow it to spread to the neighbouring houses. In places I saw the steel rafters bend and pre- cipitate great sections of the floors with their loads of furniture, cabinets or safes, filled with valuable records that could hardly be replaced. Bits of hot stone were blown from the building and, like carbine shots, exploded in the air. In one part of the crowd some hooligans attacked a group of railway officials and began beating them. But soon the police arrived in sufficient numbers, followed by Vlasienko and his men. They netted a number of bad characters, who turned out to be former criminal pris- oners. In the pockets of some of them were found letters from the chairman of the Harbin branch of the Union of the Russian Nation, who was evidently making use of these men for harassing the railway officials. The fire lasted for three days, until only the stone walls remained to mark the outline of what had been the great administrative offices of the Chinese Eastern Railway. Who had started this fire, and why they had started it, were questions which were never satisfactorily answered. No one ever uncovered the truth about the motive or the culprit. However, the Tsar’s Government tried to place the responsibility upon the Central Committee, now domi- nated by our ruling Five; but even the gendarmes and the tribunals of the bloody Nicholas II did not succeed in this, as the accusation had no foundation either in logic or in history. If in so serious an affair one were permitted to be facetious, one might truthfully aver that we went out in a great blaze, though it was no blaze of glory—for this was really the end. The Little Committee, which myTHE FICKLENESS OF POWER 159 sense of the dramatic and of the humorous had so abruptly dissolved, hid itself in fear of the responsibility for which all the leaders in our movement were now to have to answer. Nevertheless, secret printing houses issued numerous pamphlets, accusing the Central Com- mittee of having enticed the working masses into the revolution and of having thus exposed them to the puni- tive measures threatening. It was not difficult to trace the authorship of these pamphlets to the monarchists and political police, who were acting behind the mask of the workers’ organization. Our Central Committee, foresee- ing clearly the revenge in store for it on the part of the St. Petersburg Government, ended its existence and be- gan to scatter quickly, some going away while others simply gave up their public positions and returned to their private occupations. In this way the administering organizations of the life of the Russian Far East during the time of chaos follow- ing the war passed out of existence, while the former ones, with their authority weakened and their personnels intimidated by the revolutionary changes, which had been so violent, had not yet the courage to exercise their previous rights and functions. In the towns and in the army this situation at once evidenced itself, in that various town councils and the High Command made strong representations to the leaders of the Central Com- mittee, asking them not to terminate abruptly their activ- ities, which influenced and regulated the military as well as the civil life of the Far East and which served as the only common point of contact between the different con- flicting elements of society. The High Command hesi- tated to assume again the full responsibility for the evac- uation, inasmuch as they feared, from what they had previously seen of the soldiers’ attitude, that the troops Re I Pe EE EL tha bed Lie ret wins She el ae pi eet eeurence seit arenes seen deer ye Uh CAA Se aE iris nen baherpapeblehi bid ietbeeete es Fray ae a at IRAE SOT Ae UE A na AFR ers Aeahins hbk err! Bik T sts ood FAA SE i Ea Na aeDi bt oer nh od vik 4 aos zn ne rapeiga slay agi eae SITE ¥ ee 160 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON would not have confidence in their administration and would make further trouble. The necessities of the situation dictated that we re- assume our role, while reason and logic whispered with ever-increasing force that we would rue it. It was be- cause of this that only certain ones of my former asso- ciates were willing to come back on the stage. These were Nowakowski, Sass-Tisowski, Dr. Czaki, von Dreyer and Lepeshinsky. With certain other new recruits join- ing us, we decided to form a Union of Workers with members and affiliations in all private industrial and busi- ness organizations and in all public offices and with the purpose of having the Board of this Union assume the direction of the civic life of the country. The working people were ready to acknowledge this new organization, but once more the monarchists intervened to poison the minds of the masses and to set them against us. To clear the air, the Board of the Union issued a proclamation, urging upon everyone the necessity of calmness and of returning to work, at the same time announcing that the Board assumed full responsibility for all the measures being taken. The proclamation had a most beneficial effect and led to a normal and productive period from December 2, 190s, to January 16, 1906. ‘As we after- wards learned during our trial, even the gendarmes and the Public Prosecutor acknowledged this and had re- ported favourably to St. Petersburg upon us, stating that the activities of the Central Committee and, afterwards, the Board of Union had a strictly state character. Such an opinion was also expressed by General Linievitch, who continued to make use of the authority and influence of our organization. As these reports were not received with favour in St. Petersburg, both the Chief of the gendarmes and the Public Prosecutor were dismissed andTHE FICKLENESS OF POWER 161 General Linievitch was kept in a continuously disagree- able correspondence with the Ministry of War and the Ministry of the Interior. Meanwhile life ran along for a short period in an un- wonted calm for our much-harassed region. Unfortu- nately, however, the monarchists and the political police sent out from Russia desired and sought trouble, in order to afford them excuse and opportunity for initiating the repressive measures which had, for the time, been pushed off into the future. For this purpose they elaborated an unscrupulously clever plan, under which the Union of the Russian Nation entered into compacts with the gangs of hunghutzes which were always near Harbin and other large Manchurian centres, promising them secret assist- ance and protection from pursuit. This plan quickly demonstrated its practical value, as attacks on military and railway stores began. Several such supply depots were ransacked and burned, and St. Petersburg was then gravely informed that the soldiers, under the pernicious influence of the Union of Workers, did not perform their duties and thus brought upon the State these dangers and losses. Other denunciations even went so far as to state that the hunghutzes were in the pay of the leaders of the Union of Workers and that these leaders were using them to acquire large sums of money with which to pay for their escape and sojourn abroad until the revolution in the Far East should have been liquidated by the Tsar’s Government and its active protagonists forgotten. In Harbin bands of these hunghutzes attacked the houses of Sass-Tisowski and Goltzoff, members of our Union, killed their wives, pillaged everything and got safely away without ever being traced. Similar attacks were made in Hailar and Tsitsihar against leaders of our affiliated units, resulting in the death of some of these. elt = = ~ 2 on - Se e . =r — : ents § pa Eg OTe ee ee mre = orarert EVs ae are ek Sa aidhaashgt oe . - oh ak 4 a oe x - epor es pos 4) al ye > ag rit 5 ag nj Reagents DI bs bars ws eye tasers sad bl ct eesiy nee psa ssqrerrestite et a I ee ee =. pie hs se Si pe ara oe te ae SPI Ie See hs PERSE TOP BOT NLT a i g2ritk a z RRR ARENA Auk bmeiid BELTS eed Aerie me Fa RI a = GONee te i i it | ps 2 a rT. oH ey einen 162 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON In my own case they made an attack upon my car at a small station on the line toward Vladivostok, where | had stopped to inspect a local chapter of our organiza- tion. The gang fired several volleys through the win- dows and the sides of the car, but without any injuries, as no one happened to be within. Some hours later, dur- ing the search made in a small village near the station, the chief of the gang was arrested in the house of a rail- way official, who was an active member of a branch of The Union of the Russian Nation. The hunghutzes also made some attempts against rail- road bridges, which were repulsed but which furnished the monarchists with the opportunity to accuse the Union of Workers with the desire to destroy the bridges and thus create insurmountable difficulties with the army left at Ssupingkai. Such puerile and incredible intrigues en- gendered in the army disquiet and anger. After a time, the Tsarist followers tried new methods. They allied themselves with the individuals with criminal records who are always plentiful in the towns of the Rus- sian Far East and who had been attracted in even greater numbers by the war, coming both from European Russia and from the Oriental ports through Shanghai. There began attacks on houses, street hold-ups and incendiary attempts of every sort, all of them executed so boldly and swiftly that the culprits were never taken. “This is not the work of hunghutzes,;’ observed von Ziegler. “I am sure that these operators are Georgians, Armenians and other adventurers from the Caucasus, for I recognize clearly their working methods.” The Captain proved to be quite correct in suspecting the freebooting sons of the towering Colchis ranges, a direct proof of which I myself brought in for him.CHAPTER XV A WINGED GEORGIAN AND HIS “FLYING BAG” ile was the morning of December 22nd. Aiter crossing the viaduct which joins Pristan, or the commercial section of Harbin, with Novigorod, or the New Town on the hill, I turned down in the direction of the big open square where the Chinese theatre used to stand. Prac- tically the only buildings along this thoroughfare were small dirty inns, bars, billiard-rooms and cheap restau- rants kept by Georgians and Armenians. If I remember correctly, it was called “The Street of the Georgians.” It was nine o’clock and the street was empty save for two figures about one hundred paces ahead of me, one a man with a large leather bag and the other a soldier with a tifle slung over his shoulder. From the door of a dingy-looking restaurant the head of a Georgian momentarily peeped out and quickly with- drew. Buta second later the door swung wide anda tall, thin Caucasian walked rapidly down the street until he had caught up with the pair. I saw nothing suspicious, until suddenly the Georgian looked around, stopped for a moment and then, with a swift movement, made a lunge toward the man with the bag. A knife flashed, the Georgian snatched the bag and, in full view of the slow- witted soldier, made off like a stag in the direction of the market. He had already turned into the market-place, before the soldier regained his senses and started in pur- 163 MILT MAO ee bak Py ee TET EPOTL wy eer ere tae ine pas eae SI Vs See ts pred D6 panes cs Spe pr SS EE Bete ees os aes pew td GOT ST beni = ja jas -a eaten zt %: ee TNL Mee UnrTae eau atts Lai att nies, ~ be - sai? RTS a SRS Peer ieth sae ee apna a DTS 164. FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON suit. In the meantime I had joined the chase, making these observations as Iran. When I reached the market- place, I saw the Georgian running like a hunted animal and seeming hardly to touch the ground. Several times the soldier stopped, as though to shoot at him, but was evidently deterred by his fear of hitting someone in the crowd, Suddenly the chase took a different turn, when some soldiers at the corner of the street barred the way and the fugitive in a twinkling threw the bag over a hedge, flashed his knife and disappeared in a small Chi- nese shop. From this he made his way out into the laby- rinth of low wooden buildings and alleyways behind the market and finally was lost by his pursuers. In the meantime the soldier had been surrounded and interrogated about the hold-up. He explained that he had been escorting the cashier of the bank on his way to deliver to a steamer captain three hundred thousand roubles. “T am just going after the bag of money!” exlaimed the soldier. “It was right here that he threw it over the hedge.” I surged in with the crowd through a small gateway in the hedge and then listened to a most characteristic con- versation among Russians of this type. Not far from the entrance was a large laundry tub, in which two strong Russian women were washing linen. “Good morning,” said the soldier to the women. “Good morning, soldier.” “Have you seen the bag?” “We have seen many bags in our life,” laughed one of the women. “And the one which fell here?” “This also!” “Where is it?”A GEORGIAN AND HIS “FLYING BAG” 165 “Where was it? Is that what you want to know?” one of the laundresses again laughed. “Yes, if that is the way you prefer to put it.” “Someone threw a bag over the hedge,” she began to explain. “That much I know; but what then?” the soldier queried impatiently. “If you know, then why do you ask?” the woman an- swered, and, pushing up her sleeves, began scrubbing again. “Answer! I am all ears,” the soldier replied, racked with doubt. “Then I tell you that someone flung the bag over the hedge,” continued one of the women, who had hair as red as a flame and was equally bold and care-free. “And it landed in the tub.” Then they both began laughing again very loudly. “In the tub?” the soldier repeated, carefully examining it, in spite of the fact that it was evident at a glance that there was nothing more than a few garments soaking there. “Yes, in the tub!’ reiterated this red-haired jester. “And now—now it is not there,” the soldier mumbled, pressing his head with his hands. “No, it is not there!” “Why?” cried the soldier in desperation. “It said it had no time to wait for you, you birch log! It flew away.” The loud guffaw of the crowd smothered the laughter of the women and the curses of the soldier. However, just at this moment a policeman turned up on the scene and, stepping up to the laundry women, spoke severely: “You say it flew away? With whom? ‘Answer me quick !”” er ss ee ae " See x Sige xed $A chee shad) Data ap eae Fim SREY — -- —_—_—_- = ———— Payee ee PS gis it pat ded a 5 ry iftees ee tes arapersrare dd ® cipegt iT eeriaig st, en Th A ee eR eae SORES gpa — = BOE EAP EE ee ee ee ip Feed DEX. et Te a ie DKoA ase PSIG ADRS = estan a eal Lie wees we Ue ese age ina Paro So a > aro a A % | ni pa ee a Se Te = a 3 ht preend Shine Ses ratte os 166 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON Under this influence the women sobered down and one of them, after a moment's reflection, replied: “There was one more woman with us, Katerina Gusieff. She took the bag and went home to hide it.” The policeman, the soldier and the crowd all went along to search the house, which was in another corner of the enclosure, but neither Katerina Gusieff nor the “flying bag” was found there or ever seen again. Soon the town forgot about this bag, save the two whose lives it changed—a woman in black, who visited the grave of the murdered cashier, and the stupid soldier who spent a year in prison for his careless performance of duty. But it is always this way in the world: the tears of despair of a single individual or of many do not make a continuing discord or a lasting disturbance in the social life, which after a moment moves on and continues its way indifferent to, and regardless of, the sufferings or emotions of the few. This is the law of human na- ture, dominated by the struggle for existence. Mankind is under the spell of this struggle, the form of which is changed by the influences of civilization and by the spirit; but man seems not to be able nor to be willing to under- stand this and, through this understanding, to enter upon a higher plane of social life. Yet this will one day come, will surely come, and its approach is already discernible.CHAPTER XVI AN EREMITE OF THE LAW N the meantime darker and darker clouds were mass- ing on the horizon. Owing to the intrigues of the monarchists, the army began to display a boisterous spirit and demanded that the railroad officials, whom they ac- cused of wishing “to keep them for ever in Manchuria,” should be punished. Chief among those who asked that revenge be taken upon the Union of Workers was Gen- eral Batianoff, who had a great deal of influence in St. Petersburg and at the Court. He proposed to the Commander-in-Chief a punitive ex- pedition to Harbin and, after a very spirited interview with General Linievitch, succeeded in eliciting his acqui- escence in the plan. The next day he was already on the way with his detachment. The officials of the stations north of Ssupingkai allowed General Batianoff’s train to pass, in view of the fact that he hung the station-master at one of the first stops when the man protested that he had no right to allow a special train, not included in the regular schedule, to move without the permission of the Board of the Union. The moment I learned of this, I immediately called General Linievitch by telegraph and spent an hour in arguing with him and pointing out to him the danger and ramifications of this measure of the Staff. Linievitch finally acquiesced and at once telegraphically recalled 167 ( eee = ao iow : wu Se ua a er Eee a ae al ade ripe esezepee td rie pple Bees ji carpio hy la fe Set ss i I ena arrereey ers aL a PTE LP ee a beonihirs Bocisein tert ees Fecigtt yes cis — Lh TASS ek hops ped ttiaies oe ———— ks a IPS ET Oa ret ye ese Biel a sa find cen esa bi Fi Sa Soy lees fa a CTRL IES ere Se ze aes " at aes IGT TL IS= wae ae Tota ite a nee v ewer aT aimee te: —— SPORE EPL LE TF _ ed sis ARNIS SR a) ih 8 ssh sii wiperneanss RT haehin Tt hv bey be rok, Piste tele ee ree - Ry nl i i EE 168 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON Batianoff, who, however, disregarded his superior’s or- ders and continued northward. This forced us to act independently and, in doing so, to use our wits and lose no time. We hurried Vlasienko off to the second station below the railway bridge over the Sungari, where he was to meet General Batianoff and carry out our plans for his reception. At the same time we ordered the rails taken up from a section of the track below the bridge, after Vlasienko should have passed. As soon as Vlasienko was at his post, I again telegraphed General Linievitch and urgently requested him to despatch immediately an officer of high rank to overtake General Batianoff and order him to return at once. It seems appropriate here to give the narrative in the words of Vlasienko himself, supplemented with the tele- grams which came to us from down the railway line. “T am here waiting for Batianoff and your orders,” was Vlasienko’s first message. To this we answered by sending a gang of workers to repair the line below the bridge. A few hours later Vlasienko reported: “Batianoft’s train is here. I am talking with the Gen- eral, who is quietly waiting for the line to be repaired. The train with Linievitch’s Staff Officer on board will be here in half an hour.” We telephoned to the division engineer at the bridge to inquire if everything was in order and received his af- Grmative answer. Almost at the same time Vlasienko wired: “Be ready to receive a guest.”’ Two hours later we saw a locomotive with a single car attached come booming up the road and pull up very sharply right in front of the main entrance of the Harbin station. ‘The austere General alighted from his sumptu-AN EREMITE OF THE LAW 169 ous car and glanced sternly all around. His eyes soon rested on a detachment of armed workers, with Vlasienko at their head, approaching him. Then Batianoff gave an- other quick survey of the scene and demanded: “Where is my train and my detachment?” The smiling Vlasienko amiably answered: “Your train, General, is at this moment on its way back to Ssupingkai and Your Excellency will continue his journey alone.” “Where am I going?” the now troubled General de- manded. “To the Manchurian frontier and then on to Chita,” returned the former hussar, standing at attention. Everything seemed entirely in order, and in the merry flashes from the eyes of Vlasienko the General found something which did not leave him any tendency to protest. A few moments afterwards he swung round and re-entered his car, and the big drive wheels of the engine turned slowly over to begin the westward jour- ney that carried him out of Manchuria for ever, leaving no one among us to regret especially his departure. Once the necessity for ceremonious dignity was removed, Vlasienko broke into a hearty laugh and told us the rest of the story. “When Batianoff arrived at the station where I was to meet him, I told him the track was under repair but that it would be ready in a little while. In the meantime I was keeping an eye out for the Staff Officer’s train and, the moment I saw the smoke of it in the distance, I or- dered my men to execute swiftly our plan to cut the Gen- eral’s car, which was next to the locomotive, off from the others, at the same time jumping on the engine and giving the engineer the word to open up full speed. The rest of the train with the soldiers on board remained ~- — eM eA ee u xg ie ep RRS EP pel heheh ess, 5s See eS nee ke EPI ye ee a Eri od Ms Ses ak netOK Dh re Be u titi ee ELEN tin i Fo cas ise STH Sav esht tad —a pattie TEU HHLUAR SSAA R Ae et * retreat: baie No Ei tram het se Rees ‘3 a ¥ . ue 170 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON there in the station, and I had also managed to get the aides-de-camp of the General involved in a puzzling tele- phone conversation with the next station to the north just before the train from the south was due, so that I snatched the poor man off by himself and brought him to you.” On the following day, after Batianoff had already been despatched westward from Manchouli, I learned that our arch-enemy, General Ivanoff, was tearing his hair in his anger at having been kept in ignorance of our reception of General Batianoff and over his inability to have as- sisted this great dignitary with so much influence at the Tsar’s Court. The moment his spies had uncovered for him all the details of our management of the General’s itinerary, he hurried a cipher telegram to St. Petersburg, accusing General Linievitch of complicity in the plot against the “venerable and meritorious General.”’ Unfortunately this report made a very distinct impres- sion in St. Petersburg and reacted upon us in a most undesirable manner; for, as the evacuation of the army was now nearly completed, Linievitch was recalled to the capital and General Ivanoff made the senior commanding officer in Manchuria. As soon as old Linievitch, who took a very friendly leave of us, was well away, Ivanoff at once began to use his authority against us. One of his first acts was to free his namesake, the anarchist Ivanoff whom I had arrested, which he followed by ordering the officers who had been members of the Vladivostok Revolutionary Committee to appear before the military court. The anarchist Ivanoff left Harbin this same day and, as a final courtesy, wrote to me and to the other mem- bers of the former Central Committee, assuring us that he would honour us with his presence when the tribunalsAN EREMITE OF THE LAW 171 of Nicholas II should send us to the gallows. It turned out that his prophecy came aggravatingly near to being the truth, as only one short step separated us from the very end he sketched for us—and this author of these not quite elegant letters was for a long time an executioner in the Transbaikal. This anarchist, who understood so well how to influence the masses of Russian labourers, had been for five years in a criminal prison as a fiery disturber of the peace, and afterwards, for the sake of a career, became an agent of the political police and finally an executioner ! At the news that the officers were to be had up for trial, Vladivostok staged a great street demonstration, which disturbed not only the military authorities but also the local branch of the Union of Workers. A request came up to our Board for someone to be sent immedi- ately to consult about the dangerous situation in which this port, so capable of paralysing disturbances, now found itself. Inasmuch as I had previously lived in Vladi- vostok and had enjoyed most friendly relations with the people of the port, the Board chose me for the undertak- ing. That very same day a service car was coupled to the first outgoing train and carried me to Vladivostok to be a witness to most critical events. It was seven o’clock on the morning of January 9, 1906, when I reached the city and was met by the mem- bers of the local Committee, who informed me that the revolutionary groups in the town were planning to com- memorate this day as the anniversary of the bloody mas- sacre of workers by the Tsar’s Guard in St. Petersburg on the Place before the Winter Palace and in other parts of the capital. These groups had arranged for a new procession as a protest against the returning reaction of the old regime. 5 hh apie bl et a ed = ——————m fs Frere we MTT $ Lhe SPS ————= TEI fy far pha pp cps bb oni els ae hh led od ee restrain aiid hare 3a Fons web ELSE Sess SILI SIA ee ee ee eeSu, eben) PR ARO Be ss weiTIEES he wie Se bi ei ee se bekd cpebrt GSS ates Rite e Het a2 — = io aa a ci PSNR et aa HPN RETA EN POHL we ae sats z o 4 " x 172 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON Half an hour after my arrival I was in consultation with the leaders of the revolutionary parties. My advice and my requests that they forgo this demonstration proved entirely vain in the face of the finality of their dictum that there was no other effective way in which to fight the Government of the Tsar save by the armed struggle behind street barricades or through the death of unarmed revolutionaries in the streets of the Tsar’s own towns, where the blood of the victims could so cry out to, and make an impression upon, other nations, that they would declare their opposition to the criminal reign of Nicholas II and demand that it cease. I understood with poignant personal appreciation that these elements of society were obsessed by an immutable resolution of dumb despair, dictated and congealed by the thought of the ap- proaching revenge of the Tsar. After my futile meeting with these leaders I went at once to the Commander of the Fortress, General Kazbek, who was the virtual ruler of the whole town. He was a Georgian, a man of no great intelligence, ambitious and very desirous of making a career for himself. It was my purpose to try to persuade him to remain neutral, as the demonstration was to be of an entirely peaceful charac- ter and its leaders were determined not to allow the crowd to make any trouble or disturbance. Kazbek lis- tened to me, smiling rather mysteriously as I spoke. Noticing this, I said to him: “The fate of Vladivostok depends upon your honesty and wisdom, General!’ These words came almost involuntarily from me and seemed, after I had uttered them, somewhat grandilo- quent; but the future proved that I was quite right. At eleven o’clock the procession came in grave silence down the Svetlanskaya, the principal street of the town,AN EREMITE OF THE LAW 173 gathering more and more adherents at every corner. The head of the column stopped and was soon engulfed by its own body in front of the Orthodox Cathedral, where all heads were bared during the chanting of prayers for the souls of those who had been killed in the Revolution. Then the great human mass uncurled and started again. Occasional cries of “We demand a constitution! We demand a parliament!” marked its progress as the only variant of the complete order in which it proceeded to Aleut Street, that led in the direction of the railway sta- tion and past the residence of the Commander of the Fortress. The crowd advanced along this street quietly, and even joyously, at finding that the authorities offered no resistance to its progress. At the head of the procession was Mrs. Sophie Volken- stein, and following her came Dr. Lankowski and engi- neer Piotrowski, together with other leaders of the Union of Workers and of the revolutionary groups. As I mention the name of Sophie Volkenstein, there comes before my eyes a lifelike picture of the quiet, at- tractive, sweet face of a woman no longer young. Streaks of grey are plainly visible in the black hair. In the hazel eyes and around the fresh lips an expression of crushing despair, mixed with pain and sadness, speaks out as the tragic composite of the life of this revolution- ary personality. When she was a student of twenty, her revolutionary conscience thrust her into the ranks of the terrorists and gave her a part in an attempt against the life of Tsar Alexander II. For her share in this plot she was con- demned to death but had her sentence commuted to im- prisonment for life. After some years in a solitary cell at the terrible prison of Schlusselburg, about forty miles to the east of St. Petersburg on Lake Ladoga, Volken- mine gS Sa cmd wi —_ See _ % ens epris Tessie wagers aaonaae —— Pee a » coe Lo 8 pas oa Ie ares SEMAGTELAR I EE F sie ahi fii ipnin Lge 1 Tek aa Css be to do eo od me ran FINI hazds 650 rain te —————— a Se Ee tialsoH pe Paes F Si > Tr. ra F x t BeUs yi iin canis shee pa EE patty eee ARTHAS Fa at RT a ——— = we ees irra er Re RR rae ba de weir ey ceric Sa baer, bi, pep tee : ee i o 174 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON stein was sent on the long journey to Sakhalin, that cursed island of banishment and death, of which I had occasion to write more fully in Man and Mystery in Asia. There Volkenstein became the good angel of the inmates of the prison, helping them medically and spiritually. Even the administrators of the penal island valued the fine qualities of this unusual woman, full of patience, for- giveness and sacrifice for others, and, in recognition of her qualities and service, finally obtained permission for her to live in Vladivostok, as her health was far from good. Sophie Volkenstein, with a sad but sweet smile, marched at the head of the procession of demonstrators, thinking how she was now voicing her demand that hu- man and ordinary citizen’s rights be granted the Russian people, demanding them from the grandson of him who, because he would not acknowledge and grant these rights, was torn into shreds by a bomb thrown by a revolutionist. “The Romanoffs have learned nothing and have for- gotten nothing,” this sad woman bitterly reflected. The noise of machine-guns interrupted this train of thought with a suddenness as sharp as it was bitter. The whistling bullets cut the cold air; then they were silent. The panic-stricken crowd scattered in every direction, scurrying over the Place in front of the station, shelter- ing in the school building hard by or fleeing into the side streets. Two bodies remained behind on the pavement. One was that of Sophie Volkenstein, this woman who yearned for the freedom of a people and who went down without a shadow or spot on her conscience, disheart- ened and disgusted with vacillating officials, who sacrificed everything sacred to the greed of a career. She fell as she had lived—fighting in the front rank. TheAN EREMITE OF THE LAW 175 other figure that did not run was that of a schoolboy, ten years old. On this day General Kazbek accomplished much toward the furtherance of his career. In his report to St. Petersburg he telegraphed: “The faithful soldiers of Your Majesty under my com- mand gallantly dispersed an immense crowd of hostile agitators.” But life works out its own nemesis for criminal base- ness—this is the law of inscrutable, ever-existing Su- preme Justice. The crowd dispersed itself in panic throughout the whole town. The news that the soldiers had fired upon the unarmed and peacefully disposed procession flew from mouth to mouth with lightning speed, reaching the forts on Russian Island and the ships in the Golden Horn. Among the soldiers there were many revolutionary minded, while the sailors were practically all of this mould. The moment they had the news, they snatched up their arms and ran over the ice to the town, while the soldiers hoisted the red banner of revolution over one of the forts on the Island. Only one regiment, which had lately arrived from Russia, remained passive and obedient to the orders of the Staff. When General Kazbek learned of this state of affairs, he ordered this regiment to turn their pieces on the town and on the ships. The guns from the batteries controlled by the mutinied soldiers and the naval guns on the ships answered the very first shots and brought bursting shells into parts of the town and into the forts which were hid- den on the hills above it. Fires broke out in various places, an especially fierce one among the shops in the Chinese quarter. Soon the flames began to surge through ——— ent Fay ae SN LL 2 wea a pear ee pep itd sete neers + pi ag hagas Lh Leh ete Poh a gerasy ob Fs ne i a MT UPL ey Tes a ek eaireeal § nia oie er ee Se SLIP awa bits ‘ TIL TTY > DAA A eee eae oie T Te ee eee bs pte 25)- 3 ae | SK 5 : a Sayre Aste tahini SE = eee naan PGRN S Pa aa ie 176 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON the narrow streets of the Japanese section and thus made their way to the Svetlanskaya in the centre of the town. Amid the wild flames, the tumult of falling houses and the rolling clouds of smoke there coursed gangs of men like wild jackals, composed of the scum of the town, the members of monarchist organizations and hunghutzes who had gathered from the mountains and the deserted shores of the Amur and had been sheltering in the city. In several quarters armed fights took place, and on this day no one counted the number of the killed and the wounded. Hate, hidden for a long time, the desire for revenge, the lust for blood and spoil, all had at this hour of crime and disaster full liberty of expression. By night three-fourths of Vladivostok lay in ruins. The glare of the gradually lessening fires trembled on the sky, while clouds of acrid smoke drew a veil over the moonlight that had sought to make the city beautiful. Late in the evening, when I returned to my car, I could still hear the wild shouts of the raging crowd, the car- bine shots, the noise of falling buildings and the nervous whistles of the soldiers who were patrolling the streets. On January 12th I returned to Harbin, where the de- tails of the Vladivostok catastrophe were already fully known. As soon as I had made my report to the Board of the Union, I went to see General Ivanoff to inform him about the happenings in Vladivostok and to remind him that the same fate could visit Harbin in the event of tactical errors on his part. However, the General re- fused me an interview, so that I had to leave my mes- sage with his aide-de-camp and request that he convey it to his chief. On my return to my residence I found Colonel Zaremba and Captain von Ziegler waiting for me. AfterAN EREMITE OF THE LAW 177 they had asked me about the details of the occurrences in Vladivostok, Colonel Zaremba remarked with apparent irrelevance: “Remember the service car will always be ready and waiting for you.” “But I have no journey in view.” “T strongly advise you to go away. Anxious times are at hand,” added von Ziegler. To my expression of inquiry an eloquent glance was the only answer; and, after shaking my hand, they went away. Two days passed. One might have inferred that everything was quiet. But early on the morning of Jan- uary 16th Captain von Ziegler came to my house and, in broken phrases, began to whisper: “A train goes at two o’clock to the south. . . . I shall order your car to be attached to it. . . . Get out at once, for Heaven’s sake. Go anywhere. . . . I can say no more . . . but go!” He rushed out of the room without even looking back. I realized that something serious was brewing and, directing my manservant to put a few necessary articles into a small valise, went at once to the house of Nowa- kowski, who lived quite near me. I wanted to seek his advice and perhaps to go away together with him, after we had arrived at an understanding with the other asso- ciates in our stormy revolutionary career. I knocked at the door, but for a long time no one answered. ‘Then one of the windows was first opened just a slight crack and, after a second, enough to allow the head of my friend’s old cook to be thrust warily out. An evil presentiment took control of me, as I hurried to the window and demanded: “What is the matter?” “Hush!” she whispered in a quaver of fear and excite- z i Bog penn le pas Bsr be sida bie — SPU es os ES SE TRAE = ays pase cay eee AS ks Srey ae ai Bt ie oiling WET SITAR vabetat peel] Sree . ih aoe ipoee cab he LAT i oe a CE re a Ns Sheek or ws re SEASIDE EINE OES IOC EE lini rates pete MRS secon ss RARER SDSRN a a a Hie BERRA Pets or z ada: Raise SS SAR ay Sea ft ; eee ea ie = . \ AE = ke nse ape 178 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON ment, “my master was arrested during the night and taken to prison.” Jumping into a drosky, I made the round of the resi- dences of all my former associates but, alas, ' found no one at home, for all of them had been arrested in the same manner. For the moment I alone was left at lib- erty ; and now I understood the full meaning of the visit of Zaremba and von Ziegler, especially the nervous haste of the second warning of this morning. However, I did not attempt to leave Harbin, as I felt it only right that I should remain to do what I could for my imprisoned associates and to share with them what- ever fate our concerted acts might have in store. With- out leaving my house I waited until midnight, wondering when the next development would come. At this hour, while I was seated at the desk in my study, I saw through a window the face of a soldier and his shining bayonet. I arose and went into the drawing-room, only to find the same outlook there, a soldier outside each window. Just as I was saying to myself that they had probably com- pletely surrounded the house, the bell in the vestibule rang, followed by the cry of my frightened servant and the clatter of swords and spurs, as some gendarmes and agents of the political police appeared in the hall. Then followed quickly a minute search of the whole house and the writing of the official report with all its details of whether I knew how to read and write, whether I was baptized, and the like. An hour later the iron door of a cell in the military prison clanged with a dull sound of finality behind me and, through the little barred aper- ture in the middle, a guard began staring at me. “Fifty-three days as President of the Russian Far East, then prison! From President to prison—a dra- matic and exciting way, though short withal!”CHAPTER XVII AWAITING THE HEMLOCK BEGAN to look around me. My cell was not very large, four steps in length and three wide. It had a massive, vaulted ceiling, so low that I could almost reach it with my hand; but, when I started to do this, the soldier cried in a voice that seemed made for intimida- tion: “That is not allowed. I shall shoot!” I left the ceiling in peace and turned to the window, which was not more than a foot square, was heavily barred and so nearly covered by boards on the outside that I could only see a narrow strip of black night sky and some stars. They shone calmly and indifferently, quite as they had when, in my little-appreciated freedom, I watched them as I hunted in the gorges of the Sikhota Alin, as I cruised the softly undulating waters of the Japan Sea or as I wandered the thronged and laughter- loving boulevards of the Paris I had known so well and that now seemed as far from me as the Palace of the Tsar must have seemed to the life-prisoners in the cells of Sakhalin. Once more the calm and majestic indiffer- ence of Nature impressed me. “That is not allowed. I shall shoot,’ came again the voice of the soldier and drove my thoughts from me. “What is not allowed? To think?” 179BUpi a itiriks Se SRI Bt Te PEN SE SNE eT ee Ares aa: sees jeseaniiat sas SAS sas as Fes} fae t Bs ie ee 180 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “Tt is not permitted to go near the window. If you do, I shall shoot,” repeated the soldier. I saw that my liberty was destined to be somewhat restricted. Sitting down on the narrow iron bed, I be- gan inspecting the walls by the light of the smoking lamp hanging from the ceiling. The sides of my domicile were plastered but were terribly dirty, badly cracked and covered with spots and innumerable inscriptions. In the corner immediately above the bed was a big wet-look- ing place, which, when I touched it, proved to be ice. Evidently water had been leaking in through a hole in the roof and, in the severe cold of the Manchurian win- ter, had frozen in the room. “It is not allowed to touch the walls,” the soldier grunted. “You will shoot?” “Yes,” he mumbled, “according to the regulations.” “Wise regulations,” I remarked. But the soldier made no answer, only keeping his face there in the aperture and staring at me with apparently anxious, servile eyes. I was still sitting in my fur coat and cap. When I took them off, intolerable cold penetrated to my very bones, causing me to tremble and shudder so, that there was nothing to do but to get back into my furs and lie down on the inhospitable bed, which creaked and bent under my weight, seeming to take revenge upon me by poking me in the side with a broken bar. Dampness and a sharp, acid odour came from the hard pillow, while the military blanket had a terrible smell and felt almost wet from its contact with the clammy cold. I lay down with wide-open eyes, thinking of nothing but always feeling the persistent stare of the soldier. Soon I was conscious of the fact that I was really think- ing of nothing at all and began to search for the reasonAWAITING THE HEMLOCK 181 of this unusual state of my mind. The answer was not far to seek. Instinctively my whole organism was feel- ing the uncertainty of each new moment. I had been thrown into this military prison, the most relentless and most stern of all, in a disgusting hole of a cell with frozen, damp walls and with a miniature barred window covered with planks. I realized clearly that at any mo- ment they could take me out into the yard, stand me against the wall and put some nickel bullets into me; and I knew that General Ivanoff would have no scruples about paying the score in this way. Therefore, of what use were any thoughts of mine? So again I stopped thinking and fell to staring at the dirty rounded ceiling, feeling pangs of cold in my feet and up my back. But a new enemy recalled me to my senses, coming in squads and attacking me with such energy that one might easily have supposed them to belong to the Black Hun- dreds of the Union of the Russian Nation and to have been sent against me by General Ivanoff with special or- ders that no quarter be given. I struggled desperately with them, marvelling all the time that my soldier guard did not call to me that this was also not allowed. He simply observed my defensive campaign and was silent. I saw units made up of large and small members, com- ing along the wall in such formations that their strategy recalled to my mind that of a well-directed fleet. The big specimens bore down slowly and majestically like dreadnoughts with great waves rolled back at the water line, while on their flanks the little ones scurried like protecting lines of destroyers. This revolting enemy reached far ahead of its time and employed against me all of the known arts of modern warfare; for, catching me on both flanks, it enveloped me in a disgusting odour than which no modern poison gas could have been more a cet suey i fe I IE i Se RI PsP See Teena ea biaaa sighs aia eR HST ROTATE —_ - nn - APO Ar} n 2 “re- nee y - ea ee 2. a i Nes _ C3 ee : 2 a i as” eB 3 ey be: ra Sa 4 fF ee : ae i gl By ay i a : oa a Te “g 2h 2 oo reat a |) ee ern TS TAERAaRGruneSatstecaiae eee EH a sa acai gna eats ; i ah es Po L SEP pe } 4 } . é Bs ; Ca, oa ~ 182 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON repulsive. They even made air raids by crawling up the ceiling and bombing directly down upon me from this vantage point. “Tisten!’ I exclaimed to the soldier, “there are too many inhabitants in this cell and there is really no place fOr ame. “It is not allowed to talk. I——” he began and stopped. “You will shoot,’ I answered, finishing his sentence for him. “Very well, but let it be at all these unlicensed intruders.” At this the soldier turned away and laughed in sup- pressed tones for quite a moment and, when he appeared again at the little grille, his face was less threatening and even a bit merry. Finally the grey dawn began creeping into the cell. After having covered the whole room with its filmy veil of black, the lamp gave one last death-gasp and went out. The night raiders withdrew their fleets. The soldier on guard was changed; a bugle was heard; the heavy tramp of soldiers’ boots sounded down the corridor; shouts, laughs, short, sharp words of command and the rattling of kettles mingled with the noise of passing men to tell me that the soldiers were returning to the guardroom with their tins of tea, Again I heard a distinct command and, following it, the words of the morning prayer chanted by the soldiers: “© jeords save Thy people ., . These words had a strange significance here, where it was really only the Almighty who could save the pris- oners shut in this awful hole. Though I was hungry and thirsty, I did not want to ask for anything, not only because of my pride but also 93AWAITING THE HEMLOCK 183 because I was surfeited with those words, “It is not allowed! I shall shoot.” As I arose and began to walk, taking four steps for the length of the cell and four steps back, I remembered vividly a bear I had watched in the St. Petersburg Zoo, travelling over in the same manner from one corner of his cage to the other, swaying his head as though in deep despair and casting about glances of inquiry from his little bloodshot eyes. “T also must have bloodshot eyes, as I have not slept at all,” I suddenly thought and even smiled quite involun- tarily. Meantime my guard had been changed, and I found the new one was a young, thin, fair-haired boy, in whose smiling face I was surprised to discover a look of evident good will toward me. I walked for some time, finally becoming giddy with the constant turning motion. For relief I stopped and began to read the scribblings on the dirty wall. For the most part they were in handwritings that were without skill and showed little aptitude in the use of the pen. Many of them were simply curses and oaths, others were love-verses, while one inscription, made with a sharp-pointed instrument in the plaster, arrested my attention and roused within me some indistinct but unbalancing thoughts. Some inmate of the cell, unknown and now dead, had graven in this plaster his final mes- sage of despair to the world: “Tn an hour’s time I shall be shot. . . . I shall dis- appear, but my written words shall remain. After all, what is a human life worth?” A tornado of thought and sentiment swept my mind and heart. Out of it all there came one thought clearer than the rest, and this was my feeling that, if the law- — ~~ ER IPS TS ER eee Ty Le wy RET ae aleas sdoged weigh iat bese teh iotee ee cee ae ere ett. <4 Pe sees ere ts eS Sve FR TLS ere pee ksh casgss tied bricdiaa 2a cree rc Powe eat ITSeren ee nse eects ores ee rec 43 Ls pet oh mh on osha EE oe a ka oe riled Cl me ee i ol oe LE a moe tot obiytae as ¥ p TOL anesie eH bees re eeletet Fhe ieaeea reece has Vises sie UR TSR rs ee popeinemi eset ys Laney epee ee say eee eal Beane akira teemoenih ae eee ee eer SARI BREE Ua aa pean tase az shares amity ot LARA SupUOS HSS PAS OER HD Pa CE TIGRE ROHR SEE rhe sian ini fn : = = ae Le Ae TP Lee PORE TT REE ocphaa eeI RIE ea Ie bY 4 aes? ~~ oe 184 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON givers and judges of the land were placed for some days in the same conditions as these of a condemned man in a cell with such an inscription on its walls, there never would be death sentences pronounced in the society of the twentieth century. And possibly, I thought, if a crim- inal who merits death at the hands of the law could read this simple but mystically terrible inscription, he might be led to weep over his deeds and to curse his crimes for ever, cleansing his heart and soul in a way unknown to the criminal code and to judges, who think logically and loyally but at the same time with coldness and indiffer- ence. The inscription remained, while he who wrote it reposes somewhere in a corner of the military burying ground in a grave without a cross, near which no one will weep or sigh; yet, after the death of this author of the words scratched on the walls of his prison cell, there remained those who carried wounds in their hearts and a changeless memory of the man who to them was good, dear and beloved. On that first morning in Cell No. 5 of the military prison I was ready to add an inscription to that of my predecessor and only refrained from doing it out of fear of hearing once more those sacramental words, degrad- ing to me and to him who pronounced them: “Tt is not allowed! I shall shoot.” I looked at my watch and found it was nearly seven o’clock. After another hour IJ heard a slight commotion in the corridor, accompanied by a broken conversation. The face of the soldier disappeared from the grille, a key rasped in the lock and the Public Prosecutor, Miller, and Colonel Fiedorenko of the gendarmes walked into my cell. “You were arrested by order of General Ivanoff andAWAITING THE HEMLOCK 185 will be tried before a field-military court,” the Prosecutor officially announced. “When will the trial take place?” “The trial will be held in your absence in accordance with the provisions of a special circular order from the Minister of Justice,’ the Colonel explained, as he thumbed over the papers. I knew too well the portentous meaning of this. The whole of Russia groaned under the bloody hand of a great body of independent military courts, called “express tribunals,” which dealt specially with the revolutionists and sentenced thousands of them to death. I felt as though my heart had stopped in my breast and a lump of ice had taken its place. However, I mastered my emotion and, forcing myself to speak calmly, I asked: “May I write letters to my family, sir?” “You will still have time for this,” the Prosecutor answered, as he gave a glance full of meaning toward the Colonel. They went away, and the door clanged behind them. As the key once more scraped in the lock, the face of the soldier, full of real pity, appeared at the opening. After my uncongenial visitors had gone, I was brought a cup of tea with a slice of the black bread of the soldiers as my breakfast. For the noon meal I received a plate of cabbage soup, a dish of black gruel and a piece of bread. In the evening the leg which I had twisted during the fight with the hunghutzcs at Udzimi gave signs of protest against the unheated cell and began to be excruciatingly painful. Unable to walk, I went to bed and could not move my foot to get up, when the warder brought me in an evening meal of a plate of gruel, tea and the cere- monial bit of bread. The hip joint was so swollen and painful that I groaned and hissed like an angry python. bee wa —— | re 3 - « “ wy < iineser—aeed ~ a 2) POT st tel ay - aie SR EMAIO See SE us PPT EY POETS EY ee ate ssiapubgsipee sake) ati whieh 2p eh ey» pire ePdcag’ pup pws lh ae oye hele fe DenR Le Se ees ~ = fis EPS RE earriy 3 ry Ti a etaeae nel es ns pe hh Fn ot eu Lie SreyHAGE Le nates ener fittienchtemrcctt a rs ree aati eee cist id en Ser nN eR ANON Je evese ks Ppa e i ; ee B Ef ee th eek, is ite ree is istncthcrear se PRES Sila Sart ery | | | | 186 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON Fortunately the changing guards at the door of Cell No. 5 did not forbid me to groan, so that I was left this one consoling outlet for my feelings. This second night again I did not sleep, as I spent it fighting with the fleet and the escadrilles of my enemies of the night before, reinforced by another branch of more important, though less disagreeable, antagonists. These were the big, reddish-grey rats with long, bare tails, which came from holes and cracks around the floor in whole families and soon occupied all the desirable terrain in front of my position. They seemed to think that an armistice had been forced on me at the very outset, as they jumped on my bed and on the bench, where the remnants of the bread and gruel remained and, as confi- dent as guests in a first-class hotel dining-room, took little heed of my protests. When I hissed at them, they squeaked back a thin answer and watched me for the moment with their shining black eyes. I only broke off the armistice and engaged in open battle, when an evidently more enterprising and auda- cious beast jumped from the chair on to my bed and began approaching my face, hypnotizing me with his eyes as he came on. I gavea sudden lunge and a sharp cry. Like ripe pears from a tree, the rats were thrown off my bed and struck the floor with a thud, scampering off in all directions. However, they soon returned and gave evident signs of their intention to divide up my blanket, eat my bread and inspect my face. This became too much, so that I opened an artillery fusillade against them, shying one of my boots into the most compact group and following it with another so effectively that a good bit of squeaking told of the accuracy of my fire. After this they all retreated to their dugouts, and only from time to time a mysterious shadow, gliding throughAWAITING THE HEMLOCK 187 my cell, told me that their scouts were still about. This war with the rats, which sickened and disgusted me, lasted through the whole of my stay in Cell No. 5. On the second day of my prison life I learned that I was not abandoned by my friends outside. The soldier on guard after dinner was the fair-haired boy whose ac- quaintance I had already made. For a long time I noticed that he stood in silence and that he was carefully watch- ing the corridor. All of a sudden he caught my eye and gave a hiss, at the same time throwing a folded bit of paper through the grille. Someone from the great realm of liberty outside our prison walls had written me of momentous events. The travesty of a trial in absentia had already taken place, and we had been condemned to death by shooting. Then this was the end of it all— be oe Dit tothe oraviex? However, a difference of opinion had developed in the Staff of General Ivanoff, where a large group of influ- ential officers was opposed to the sentence and strongly urged a retrial, not before the “express tribunal” but be- fore the regular military court. Many different elements in the civil population also supported this demand. “Do not despair,” continued my unknown correspond- ent, “for telegrams have been sent to St. Petersburg in your behalf; and, although General Ivanoff intercepted and stopped the first messages, we have found a way to circumvent him.” This promised help held a shadow of hope, however small—and it appeared very small; for Ivanoff, possess- ing unlimited powers, need pay little heed to protests and might order any night that we be taken from the cells and shot down, thus making of the question a simple fait accompli. This method was one much in vogue during the time of the Tsars, just as it has been under their err aN en Ts mains SN PUSSY FSIS ea EPC RIESPEP OPT POPSET aca a aaa ¢ Cae Sere oer pee Ei ee ehh abe ak So eeRewari ech Cay they $i ne LAT D EHO MA NR RIG UES IDER SANTOSH HN DUBE MRE GaN Ea esa ps NE etetitrd. ere cy 3 a> ot oo i , 1 | 188 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON successors, the Soviets, of which we have an illustration in the shooting down at Petrograd of the Prelate Bud- kiewicz in this year of 1924, which has revolted the whole civilized world. Now to my old enemies, my night adversaries and the terrible pain in my leg, a new foe, the most harassing and unmerciful, was added. This was terror. Any talk in the corridor a little louder than usual, the noise of grounding arms, the entrance of the guard with the food —all of these brought me up with a bound to listen with bated breath for what might be coming next. Then, with- out the necessary will power to stop myself, I arranged my tie and my clothes, as though I were to go out imme- diately to return nowhere and never. From hour to hour and from minute to minute I awaited and expected the final messenger. For two whole days I had no news from the outside world. Finally the watchman brought me a white roll and a sausage, saying that they had been sent me from town. For these past two days, owing to my terror and distress, I had eaten nothing, and even now I should not have eaten these really dainty morsels, were it not for the thought that in them I might find something better and more welcome than food. So, making a pretence of eating, I munched the roll and broke off little pieces, until I found that, surely enough, there was enclosed in it a small tightly rolled tube of tissue paper. Carefully, to avoid detection, I unrolled the paper and read: “The telegrams went to St. Petersburg.” There was nothing more, and the terror stayed with me, as my situation was really unchanged. Just as be- fore, death was right over my head; and, even though the telegram might make a favourable impression in St. Petersburg, the answer could easily be too late, for Gen-AWAITING THE HEMLOCK 189 eral Ivanoff had no need to wait in ordering execution of the sentence imposed. After another day of this torture of waiting for death had passed, I heard, in the evening, when the prison had grown quiet, the noise of voices and of footsteps in the corridor. In a moment my door was opened and Gen- eral Ivanoff entered, followed by the Captain who was in charge of the prison. “Meath. . -° thought 1, “the end!” “Cell No. 5, the political prisoner Ossendowski, con- demned to be shot, General,” the old Captain announced. “Nobody asked you, Captain,” grunted the General, and, without adding anything, turned and went out. I heard the door of the neighbouring cell open but I could not catch the words of the Captain. “Surely they will make an end of me this night,” I thought, as I pressed together my icy hands. The night hours dragged interminably for me; the prison was quiet; the guards changed with little noise in the corridors; while from the yard floated up the call of the sentinels: akercarel) wake canes I paid no attention to my night raiders. In my dis- traught state of mind I developed the idea that they understood my torture and, in mercy, left me alone. Nor did I feel the pain in my leg or have any sense of hunger and thirst. For hours long I sat with my eyes fixed on the door, ever expecting it to open for someone to give me the signal to go. With the highest tension I listened to each sound in the prison and the yard. Finally this seemingly endless night of torture yielded to a day that was but little less harassing to my over- wrought nerves. Then at evening, when I once more in benumbed misery faced another night of expecting death, the Commander of the Prison abruptly entered my cell nie an T 3. Tune eo Pes Serr beet - hea tat ap aaa sh phir a gph Lees pe 35 ibaa canes is St Ss ee 53 ee ai _— SEW ET IPE AS —— ~ Srirerrpyee dd San a > ss oe taphaieaumebeeneld ThT rss — AR Sy I bigs toe i oe en ee8 cs al a YS i; ae ee 9 oe ps | ee tt } ved a SeRTLAT TL Ys 5 an) (ABT NaTN PEPE 2 aS MR nt RMS Ts Pt SSH RSE NORRIS f a. i i \ ? e. 4 j 190 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON and informed me that I was to be moved to Cell No. 11. This gripped me as a bad sign, for I knew well the cus- tom of the prison to transfer intended victims to another cell in preparation for the execution. There were no formalities, as I needed only to take my hat and coat and follow the Commander down the corridor to my new abode. Neither I nor anyone else shall ever phrase my feeling, as the door was opened and I was received with shouts of joy by Nowakowski, Lepeshinsky and three others of my associates on the Central Committee. “Hurrah!’’ shouted Lepeshinsky, as gay as ever. “Witte! has ordered the decision of the ‘express tribunal’ to be annulled and our case to be brought before the reg- ular military court. There they will not condemn us to death!’ Good news, indeed, was this, after five days of continuous expectation of execution! I often thought afterwards how entirely relative is the idea of happiness. We struggle during our whole lives, straining our minds and physical strength to gain ma- terial welfare and a stable place in society. We are al- ways grumbling and always longing for better conditions. Suddenly a catastrophe overthrows us violently, leaving life hanging by a thread. Then the slightest improve- ment in the extreme conditions is regarded as a supreme happiness. It was so with me on January 22nd, 1906, and then I understood the meaning of life and the want of reality in some of our ideology. 1 Count S. J. Witte had now become Prime Minister at St. Petersburg.CHAPTER XVIII GRANTED A STAY ees my transfer six of us lived in the little cell designed for only two inmates. Though space was very limited and the quarters were dirty and stuffy, we had hope to dwell with us and cheer us. At once the will to live returned and with it the resolve to have bet- ter conditions which set us about securing them. First of all, we put our abode in order. Asking for water, soap, rags and paper, we scrubbed the floor, which had probably not been so treated since it was laid; we cleaned the walls and the ceiling; we caught all the night raiders, showing them no mercy, and then began a war- fare on the rats. Our first move was to stuff with rags all the holes through which these reddish-grey animals came up from under the floor. Of course, the cloths were not proof against the sharp teeth of the marauding rodents, but we developed a method of counter-attack that proved effec- tive. While we were cleaning our cell, we discovered some bits of glass on top of the stove, which we pounded fairly fine and combined with the rags to make stoppers for the holes, alternating a thickness of cloth with a layer of the powdered glass in such a way that the pincers of our ene- mies could no longer cut our barbed-wire entanglements. But this was purely a mechanical device and did not entirely satisfy my ideas of warfare as a trained chemist, 191at bine: aM Oba at daa wa trustinit LPT acer Pete Le ees ee . SIGOSI iwi ists ataese ect eS hs a i : at 3 | i ae ih De HCA rl EE - Sie SARA hat a as —_ SP Ra LPT ae aa EET CPE SERPS RPT TEE Sa RAE hse pe me ie - ‘ “ pn s ; 7 192 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON looking for some way to harness this great science in our service. Soon I succeeded. As my foot was still most painful, the doctor gave me some quinine, one of the two drugs used in the prison,—the other was castor oil,—from which I made a solution and soaked the rags init. The rats could then not touch the cloths, because of the disagreeable, bitter taste, and this, with the powdered glass for those who had no taste, made our barricade secure. After this we never saw our enemies come out of their trenches. Through the washed and polished panes of our window the sunlight entered more boldly, and life again seemed beautiful. However, my sojourn in frigid Cell No. 5, sleeping on a damp bed next a wall covered with ice, and the moral torture of those days, left their very definite marks upon me. The condition of my leg became so threatening that the doctor wanted to move me to the prison hospital, but, not wishing to be separated from my companions, I begged to be left in the cell with them. Though he nursed me there to the best of his ability, one day, when he had examined my swollen leg and hip joint, he shook his head and muttered: “Tf this state of things continues, amputation will be necessary.” In spite of the doctor’s fears, my constitution, hard- ened by my hunting and travelling experiences, proved equal to the task of overcoming the illness, so that after two weeks on my back I was able to get up and even to walk a little between the six beds that crowded our cell. During this interval no one seemed to be paying any attention to us, leaving us in a silence which made us feel that everyone had forgotten our existence. “This portends well,” Lepeshinsky proffered. “This boor, Ivanoff, may calm down or, perhaps, we shall beGRANTED A STAY removed from here—or he may even himself have the cleverness to break his neck! Then the sentence of the ie tribunal will be lighter for us.” None of us had any illusions about the leniency of the 43 sentence that would be meted out, and practically all of if us expected it would be at least banishment up through the Yakutsk region along the Lena to some of the penal colonies in the tundras of the Arctic region. Such sen- tences always meant that the condemned were banished to VE these wild regions for their whole life, yet that hope which never dies always offered the possibility of an amnesty, if the Tsar should have a son or if some other great and happy event in the State life should occur. Consequently, we all prayed that Nicholas might be richly blessed with male offspring and, at the same time, we felt that there existed a reasonable hope of a sweeping political amnesty; for, in spite of the transitory ascend- ancy of the monarchical reaction, all of thinking Russia had been demanding this for a long time and would probably not abandon their deep-seated desire before the temporary check. 1 E “At the most we shall have a journey to the north, at 4 Government expense and shall return eventually,” I as- sured my companions. “I have never yet been in those parts and am curious to have a look at them.” “in general, banishment is better than prison,” added Lepeshinsky, “as you can move about and do not always have a soldier with a bayonet, a gendarme or the prose- cutor chaperoning you.” “Or His Excellency Ivanoff,” muttered Nowakowsk1, who nourished a rich hatred for this man who had tor- mented us so effectually. “I prefer to meet General Tap- tyguine? in the Yakutsk faiga every day than this 1 This is the name which Russians give to the bear.Mot citi ts Sea oe be et dtc at oe {EEA eh ries belisa a RAGLAN AS 4 oh SOSH , ig a er 194 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON Ivanoff, because the former is more of a gentleman,” and the old man boiled with wrath, as he recalled the bearded visage of Ivanoff. After this we received some communications from the town, smuggled in by some of the soldiers and the non- military prison guards. These brought us word that the military court was making energetic search for valuable witnesses against us, had appointed the judges and was generally preparing for a spectacular trial. Our friends also wrote that the Union of Workers had retained the services of two able lawyers, who were already preparing our case and marshalling the witnesses for our defence. They told us that we should soon be summoned before one of the judges for a preliminary inquiry, which would be a first step in the trial. Then one day the Commander of the Prison came and announced to us that we were to go under guard for this preliminary catechizing. When we were taken from the prison, soldiers with bayonets and gendarmes with drawn swords completely surrounded us, and we tramped thus the length of the whole town, as though we were terrible criminals, dangerous to all mankind. As we passed the town hall, the bank and the temporary offices of the Railway Administration, large groups of officials greeted us with loud shouts of acclamation, women waved their handkerchiefs and threw us flowers. On the Place before the burned offices of the railway a delegation of workers awaited us and met us with a rev- olutionary song, which rang in parts: You are the victims of our struggle for the right, For the liberty, the glory and the honour of the nation. Not liking this sympathetic enthusiasm or fearing an attack, the gendarmes dispersed the crowd with theirGRANTED A STAY 195 swords. Then just a little farther on, near the market, we were received in quite another fashion by a gathering of the scum of the town, who were evidently acting as “supes” for the monarchists, and loosed at us a volley of curses and abuse. “Death to the revolutionaries! To the gallows with them! To the wall!” came in the hoarse, vodka-moulded voices of the crowd. The cries increased, and stones were even thrown at us, though, as we were ringed with soldiers, none of us was struck. The affair gave us one more proof that the political police had a very definite working arrangement with the guiding monarchists, in that the gendarmes, who had been so energetic a few minutes before in their scattering of the workers, did nothing more than shout a warning to these missile hurlers. But the men in control of the city police, who such a short time before had been under our direction and influence, did not idly pass these doings; for Colonel Zaremba and Captain von Ziegler, expecting a hostile demonstration against us from this gathering of hooli- gans, had concealed a detachment of mounted police in a courtyard near the market and sent them out to disperse the Black Hundred with whips. When we finally reached the office of the magistrate, we had a very unpleasant surprise in discovering this judicial person to be none other than the right-hand man of General Ivanoff, Colonel Fiedorenko. The inquiry began. Fiedorenko manipulated it in such a way as to establish to his entire satisfaction the fact that the Cen- tral Committee and the Board of Union of Workers had been acting according to the plans and under the orders of the Council of Workers and Soldiers in St. Peters- burg, an organization which was most energetically per- secuted by the Tsar’s Government and which counted3 2. _ Lee HS Cet 138 al - J PASSO Nie eel SENAY Pte RES DOE abi eh His SGOT ee St RA 153 oe re esis MTS: Bins BOER a 196 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON among its members in 1905 none other than Leo Bron- stein, known better as Trotzky and until recently the actual Tsar of Soviet Russia. Fiedorenko so persistently distorted all my answers and continued to affirm our union with the Council, that I finally became disgusted and said with impatience: “The Central Committee and the Board of the Union of Workers, during the whole term of their existence, issued bulletins, from which you could have learned, Colonel, that we organized in response to the orders of the League of Unions in Moscow. Once launched, we worked out plans of our own, as the conditions of life in Manchuria and the Far East were quite unique. I feel sure that, if the working principles which we put into the life here had been successfully introduced into Euro- pean Russia, the Government of Tsar Nicholas II would have by now disappeared, as well as the political police, whose representative I am now addressing. Also, if we had adopted here in the Far East the plans and methods of the St. Petersburg Council of Workers and Soldiers, a bloody anarchy would have reigned that would have engulfed the army and the towns, and first of all you, Colonel, and the other leaders of the old régime, who are sowing the seed for a most terrible harvest of revo- lution in Russia. Please keep this in mind and do not bother yourself to trump up non-existing elements in our trial. We acted entirely openly, hid nothing and will hide nothing!’ My comrades, who were questioned after me, deposed in this same strain. After this first inquiry we were compelled to go several times more to be catechized by Fiedorenko, who had not the desire nor the ability, as a matter of fact, to be a close-thinking, logical judge. Also we were summoned before the Prosecutor and in dueGRANTED A STAY 197 course arraigned before the tribunal, where the bill of indictment was presented to us and our list of witnesses filed in turn. Finally on March 18, 1906, the actual trial was be- gun and lasted throughout five days. General Ivanoff really succeeded in staging a very imposing arraignment and trial, all a part of his plan to impress St. Petersburg with the extremely dangerous character of the organiza- tion he had quashed and to secure for himself a fitting acknowledgment and reward for his effective and faithful Services. —_ Wes spb septs err pb Cyrhee Doi mEs SITs ae SEGA pe rare Bh E ee I ae ae sewer ee MAR ee Shagated wet 2 es = rT ee Pe sas MSR IAN aL JesU5Es eters te aon ed Lo erro eee PS eee # Pett weit Piast =e Se4 ee ie 2 4 3 i SabAs 7 erererserersrtoahy bates SRR RUPEE 4 a bt oebhi Hit AP tses es SPT eee Stee ~~ SRE NRAnatEy ve 5 ANGERS i ‘ Ltt eee wel a banal hore ers APOE TH ee SHAUN OUOTGE RAI SSNGUATAARD Ia neTEMERR eae, CHAPTER XIX THE SEAL OF AN IRON GRILLE ee IVANOFF employed every means within his power to secure as drastic a sentence as possible. To carry out his purposes, he brought all the way from Moscow one of the most notedly severe military prose- cutors, Colonel Kurochkin, giving him for adviser his confidential auxiliary, Colonel Fiedorenko. However, other powers, favourably disposed to us, were active at the same time. In the first place, there was old General Linievitch, who, after being recalled to St. Petersburg and summoned before a court of inquiry, defended us with the assertion that, without the help of the Central Committee, he would have been unable to maintain civic order throughout the East and discipline throughout the army in the face of the discontent and disorder fomented bv the anarchist and other organiza- tions hostile to us. General Horvat, Director-General of the Chinese East- ern Railway, was the second prominent personage to be heard in our favour in St. Petersburg. He knew well what the revolutionary government of fifty-three days had contributed to the maintenance of the State life in the Far East. In his opinion he was strongly supported by a man who had been known as the great railway builder of Russia, the Polish engineer, Kerbedz, who was not only a close friend of Count Witte’s but also was 198THE SEAL OF AN IRON GRILLE 199 possessed of great influence in Russian governmental circles. These warring elements struggled and fought during the trial, bringing all the pressure they could to bear upon the various Government departments and agencies which dominated the judges. The atmosphere in Harbin was surcharged with feel- ing and contention. Mounted detachments and infantry patrolled the streets, and the way from the prison to the court was lined with soldiers and gendarmes, as we were brought to the tribunal in carriages, surrounded by mounted troopers with drawn swords. We had the same street reception as on our first appearance, acclamation and flowers from the officials and workers and curses and threats from the monarchists. Finally we reached the building and entered the hall, taking our places in the dock of the accused. I had the seat of honour as the President of the indicted Govern- ment, with the grey-haired, serious, alert Nowakowski next to me and beyond him Lepeshinsky, Kozlowski, Sass-Tisowski, Tichino and the others, twenty-two in all. The hall was full of people, counting representatives ftom several organizations, members of the foreign con- sular body, of the Press and of foreign firms, delegates {from the army and from other towns throughout the whole Far East. The long and tedious procedure began. We were obliged to repeat what we had already told the magistrate at the preliminary hearings. When the witnesses were called, ours defended us vigorously and obstinately, whereas those for the prosecution provided very little evidence to involve us. Only two typesetters from the railway printing office, whom we judged to be well paid, testified that the Central Committee was an integral or- 7 SVs METI TEES ery . es mre oer wy — nena a7 = Sy hcigeg aries kDererk+s os) Th Sabb se ee ea eialied MON Tt xray fa ts are Oye SER LEP ee ee MA| Hy | Pe pipe hitcn Wiad bl L. hah 62h denes ere t casas ead ge ——————— Areghis ibe the a Peres thse Se ge ee Te ee SR EBSRN SoA URED GH pep EDEN RN a ie pai re tas aT 5 os ne 200 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON ganization of the Social Democratic Party, which fact would have connected us directly with the Council of Workers and Soldiers in St. Petersburg, whose leaders all belonged to this party. During the trial we learned, to our amazement and surprise, that one of our members, the lawyer, Kozlowski, belonged to this party. This dis- closure had a markedly detrimental influence upon the court, inasmuch as the sentences, it developed afterwards, would have been much more lenient, if this dénowement had not occurred. On March 23rd the final phase of the trial was enacted. In summing up, the Prosecutor insisted that we be given the maximum sentence, eight years of hard labour in prison. Answering on our behalf, our counsel exposed the inadequacy of the evidence of the prosecution, where- upon the Prosecutor, speaking in rebuttal, repeated his demand for a maximum sentence, seeking to bulwark it with the statement that the Central Committee was a destroying, anarchistic power, which had caused the State great moral and material losses. “Your Honours,” he continued, “do not allow your- selves to be misled by these individuals, obscure and mostly of non-Russian extraction. We have heard their counsel telling the Court that the Central Committee took into its hands the helm of the State life in the Far East and that the order introduced by it saved to the Government twenty-one million roubles. As it was con- firmed by witnesses and the Chief Comptroller of the railroad, I do not take issue with this statement and am ready to accept it. But, gentlemen, remember that the Central Committee is all the more dangerous, in that it has taught the revolutionaries how to act outside the authority of the Central Government and how to manage the ship of State. The acts of this Central CommitteeTHE SEAL OF AN IRON GRILLE 201 will be a school for future revolution against the reign of His Majesty the Tsar!” This was a great faux pas on the part of the Prose- cutor, who, carried away by his own eloquence and his desire to evince his loyalty to the Throne, gave us a sen- tence that became the strongest element in our defence. Our lawyers at once profited by the error and turned our adversary’s own words against him to disprove his asser- tion about our anarchism and the losses we had caused the Government. On the judges’ bench sat the five members of the mili- tary court, presided over by their chairman, while ranged behind them were General Ivanoff and his Staff with Colonel Fiedorenko, all sitting in easy chairs below the picture of Tsar Nicholas I]. As our counsel finished his clever use of the Prosecutor’s gratuitous material, some of the judges were seen to smile slightly, as they watched the Prosecutor, in evident discomfiture, bending over his documents and thumbing them page by page, as though in search of some important matter he had missed. Fiedo- renko threw a quick glance at their oratorical champion, which boded no good for him, and leaned over to whisper something to General Ivanoff, who turned red with anger and began pulling expressively his long black beard. “T have nothing further to say,” the Prosecutor stam- mered, as he put his documents in his brief-case. “We also rest,” our lawyers announced. “Accused,” said the Chairman of the Court, “you have the right to be heard before the bench announces its decision.” [ had to speak first and did so briefly, closing with the words: “The Prosecutor was honest enough to testify to the _ Scag aa ar reyes PTET ee peas aeeie cobihdigarirh ina ie out: _ — Fee AS ee vaidauoieiattia iia kihhce ers a xgheteRS od ns at Se es i = SERRE eo ¢ iets nat \ PT einen Sd al aleseat lem, sa betaalcnae iesdl chad tae semaite veasncensuanecen aid Lacan aeons REESE SPEAR NOT pe EBON i reer erEIN 202 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON State character of our activities. Now I appeal to the honesty of you Judges and Generals present here to con- firm my assertion that, +f the Central Committee, at the moment when the revolutionary passions exploded, had not sticceeded in concentrating effective authority in its hands, you gentlemen would surely have been killed by the bullets of your soldiers or hung on the lamp-posts by the maddened and lawless anarchists. This is the only thing I ask from the Court and from the consciences of those who sent us to this bench of the accused.” Each of my companions spoke in turn. Nowakowski was listened to with great attention, as he gave a detailed analysis of the conditions prevailing in the Far East for the benefit of the judges, who had specially come from European Russia for this trial and to whom these were entirely unknown, owing to the fact that no one in St. Petersburg or Moscow had any knowledge of either the state of affairs in this region before the Revolution broke out or of the constitution of the various layers of the local society and of the character and ideology of the local population. At about eight in the evening the session ended and the judges retired for deliberation. After what was later learned to have been a stormy four hours, they returned at midnight and read their findings. The President of the Revolutionary Government, who at this unfortunate moment happened still to be myself, was condemned to eighteen months of fortress prison, without any deduc- tion for the two months already spent in the military prison awaiting trial. Nowakowski was given one year and the rest shorter terms, with the exception of Koz- lowski and Lepeshinsky, whom the Court singled out as belonging to distinctly revolutionary and_ socialistic parties and to whom it gave, in addition to the originalTHE SEAL OF AN IRON GRILLE 203 sentence of one year, an extra term of two years for the former and one for the latter. Altogether it was a very merciful finding, if one can speak of mercy in con- nection with a matter which ought not to have been re- viewed and punished by a tribunal at all. We returned to our cells as prisoners of a higher social class than the others in the military gaol. Imprisonment in a fortress had in the Russian code a special name, “honourable custody” or the custodia honesta of the Latin, and carried with it certain privileges, such as the right to wear one’s own clothes, to receive food and books from home and to have a walk each day in the prison yard. We wondered how much we should bene- fit by these privileges, as there was no fortress in Harbin. However, General Horvat came to the rescue by propos- ing through St. Petersburg that a special political prison should be established in Harbin, as there were many political prisoners in the town. A private house toward the north end of the Bolshoi Prospect was rented, the windows were barred, strong doors installed, rooms for the soldiers and keepers pre- pared and the whole house and rather spacious yard were surrounded with a high board fence. Not long after the trial we were already in our new quarters and began to settle down for our long term of enforced residence. We requested from our home clothes, linen, books and papers, arranged for a regular supply of food to be sent us and gradually became accustomed to the new life. EF TUL ree a or ae pp edi: os Tee SX. TTT PE ET jie eres ens — oe SU IIa SeeSERS wi ——— aThel bat dssrscals a ca fs HER See c a re oy CHAPTER XX PRISON “EL DORADO” HE temporary political prison in Harbin was, by comparison with other places of incarceration, a veritable “El Dorado.” The quarters were large and clean and well lighted by the big windows. Nowakowski and I were assigned to one cell, where we settled our- selves for the long term ahead of us. “A fter all, Iam to live here eighteen months,” thought I, “and consequently, I must arrange everything as agree- ably as possible, in order that this period of inactivity and restraint may not leave its undesirable marks upon 3? me. First I had brought from my house my books and the scientific notes which I had made during various excur- sions throughout the Russian Far East and in the lab- oratories at Vladivostok and Harbin. For whole days and nights I worked without ceasing. During the first three months I wrote almost constantly and, with the permission of Prosecutor Miller, sent off to Warsaw to the monthly magazine, The Polish Chemist, and to The Journal of the Society of Chemistry and Physics in St. Petersburg a number of articles on the chemistry of coal, petroleum and gold, as well as some chemico-technical studies of several East Asiatic products such as vegetable oils, commercial fertilizers, seaweeds containing iodine, Chinese and Japanese bronzes, etc. The former Minister 204PRISON “EL DORADO” 205 of Education in Poland, Dr. B. Miklaszewski, who had also been a political prisoner in Russia, was then the editor of The Polish Chemist and, in printing my articles, placed under my signature the rather unusual address of “Political Prison, Harbin.” It is just possible that I am the only scientist in the world who has had scientific works published with such an address. I read much during this time and, among other vol- umes, I carefully studied two of the works of the re- markable self-made scholar, N. A. Morozoff, who at- tained to great learning after having spent twenty-four years in a solitary cell of the political prison at Schlussel- burg and who quitted the prison in 1905, taking with him only a single bundle, containing three thick manu- scripts, The New Explanation of the Periodical Law of Chemical Elements, The Astronomical Basis of the Apocalypse and a collection of verses full of hope and the bright joy of life. These volumes were very interest- ing and thrilling, not only from a scientific but also from a psychological standpoint, as the works of a man abso- lutely cut off from the turmoil of life, immersed in his own thoughts and in a sort of mystic, prophetic ecstasy. Very soon I came to understand the meaning of soli- tude to this man. I can now myself compare two kinds of isolation which I have learned to know through actual experience. In 1920 I spent four long winter months in the unbroken solitude of a Siberian forest, hiding from the Bolsheviks and lying in wait for the spring under the roots of a great tree overturned by a storm. In those surroundings, left alone with nothing but my own moral and physical forces, I felt strongly the quick recrudes- cence of the primitive man—hunter, fisherman and war- rior—whose every nerve responds to the power and beauty of Nature and who, at the same time, sees at Srp epipies a2 ol ci wpa i ot mr a Ssaraelpad Toae OT eat au era asc SERA moe TOE ene ee Te ti RSI Rae ee ini Sods 206 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON every step the proofs of the all-pervading presence of the Wisdom of God, the Creator, whose invisible hand directs and guides the life of the smallest living thing. During these months in the forest I observed in myself unquestionable changes, the resurrection in my soul of primitive mysticism and of something more, something disconcerting and almost fear-inspiring for a civilized man trained in the principles of modern science, though it was beautiful at the same time—the return of tele- pathic sensibilities, which have been almost completely lost by men of to-day but which are a very definite ele- ment in the equipment of the wild beings around us. In the prison cell at Harbin in 1906 I came to know that other solitude of isolation in the very midst of one’s own kind. Having as my companion the silent Nowa- kowski, immersed in the study of Holy Writ, and after- wards living quite alone in the cell, I felt other spiritual changes coming over me. I acquired the ability to under- stand the whole spiritual process preceding a crystallized thought. As I read the works of Morozoff and of other scholars and writers, I saw before me these men in person and the surroundings in which they created their work; sensed the psychic evolutions of their minds and souls; felt and thought as they had, straining toward the same goals they had sought to reach, travelling with them their roads of logic, tortured by their despondencies and kindled by their interior spiritual fires. Some years later I had the opportunity to review these experiences, when talking with Morozoff and also with the well-known Belgian poet, Verhaeren, whose works gave me during my prison days many unforgotten moments. I had then the impression that I had unwit- tingly seen the future fate of these persons, whose souls had burned before my eyes, so that I could study themPRISON 4b DORADO? 207 as though they were my own. During those days in the silent prison cell I did not, however, realize fully nor register definitely these impressions, these intangible movements of the soul, impossible to lay hold upon, these shadows of things not yet existing which glided before my eyes. But, when Verhaeren, aflame with the fires of new creation, was killed in the street, leaving after him the bitterness of the cruel injustice of Fate and of injury perpetrated by blind accident, then I remembered the vision of those black, hope-enshrouding clouds, veiling the pale dead face of the great poet, which started from my soul as a gruesome spectre and tortured me for days in my cell, where often for long, unbroken periods I heard nothing other than the monotonous cries of the guard: “Take care! T-a-k-e c-a-r-e!” At this time, when the prison walls separated me from life with all its noise and struggle, when I felt myself absolutely alone, I was surrounded by unknown, invisible beings rising up out of the unexplored recesses of my soul, who spoke with me, advising and instructing me. I realized then what extraordinary, invisible powers are lodged within the transient human body, what treasury might be obtained from these powers, were they not lulled to sleep by the opiate of modern life. I could call up the figures of all whom I knew with such vivid distinct- ness that they appeared before me and whispered to me in almost real voices. I felt the warmth of their bodies, I even heard their breathing and the sounds of their movements. It was a state strange and terrifying, but at the same time waking a thrill of bliss. I had the im- pression that I was in another world, in which my body and soul were changed, making of me a higher, more nearly perfect and non-terrestrial being. Sneed nig ohSs Diem —_— ee x=u —— > SE re ? iis) — See TI IM ee ee ee stad 5 Sas buat - rR AEMTRPLELS ee rh pei lee hesitate si okie tele eas st POT PST GE ATE eco taal grat SU ET I SE a ick pont tt Sari ee vas = es Lepphemrbetahins oie wae Tht es oaTet nee Rab: eee ae 5s aS (Sei Tiin aie) EERE RS cise aN S . ba , me SHRGH NTS BORE Rect ietcmnener teainemctiee tern sae ye 208 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON I remember in greatest detail how one of my friends came to see me on visitors’ day and brought me the news that everything was ready for my escape from prison and for my safe despatch to Japan. Similar proposals were presented to the prisoners from Vladivostok, Dr. Lankowski and engineer Piotrowski, and to my Harbin associate on the Board of the Union, Dr. Czaki. These efforts were made on our behalf, as there existed reason for fearing that the St. Petersburg Government would not be satisfied with simply having us serve short sen- tences in prison but would invent some additional and special punishment for us, as we had been the most active workers and were Poles besides. Lankowski, Piotrow- skit and Dr. Czaki profited by the opportunity and escaped to Japan, later going on to the Hawaiian Islands, from where Dr. Czaki went into the Argentine. At this time I was so obsessed by the experiences which I have just described that I was afraid even to think that this unusual spiritual state might disappear, for I felt that it would have beena great loss tome. To the despair of my friends, I refused to flee. Before the score was fully settled, I had to pay a heavy price for this decision, but now I do not regret it, as it was only in this way that I earned the opportunity to see the bottomless pit of misery and the naked soul of man, which brings with it under- standing, readiness to forgive and the calm of thought. After such experiences one does not say: “This is a bad man,” or “This is a good man,” but simply “This is a man carried along by a bad, or a good, current of liters Unconsciously and without having yet read or heard the wisdom of Buddha Gautama, I arrived at the same 1 Piotrowski was killed in Poland in 1920 during the war with Soviet Russia.PRISON “EL DORADO” 209 conclusion as that which the great teacher formulated so poetically and wisely in the words: “Man! you can rise higher than God Indra and fall lower than the worm crawling in the marsh.” And so I remained in my cell and, together with the silent, thinking Nowakowski, continued our strange, never-to-be-forgotten life. Although I did not interro- gate him, I knew that he was living through similar ex- periences but that, being of an unimaginative and uncom- municative turn of mind, he did not dwell on them or speak of them. Some weeks after having remarked these psychologic changes, I ceased to sleep, though this cannot be said to be a strictly accurate statement regarding my condition. Sleeplessness is a state of ill-health, when one feels tired and longs to sleep but cannot; whereas I felt no mental fatigue and did not wish to sleep, but usually read or wrote eighteen hours out of the twenty-four. My mind continued quite fresh and my imagination unusually ac- tive. Together with the loss of a desire to sleep, I also lost my appetite and could not eat either meat, fish or ordinary bread, so that I had to ask to have sent me from home tinned fruit and zwiebach of white bread, on which I lived for some time, with the addition of a morning and evening glass of strong tea. My usual daily ration fell to one tin of pears or peaches, four pieces of zwie- bach and two glasses of tea. Mentally and spiritually I felt quite normal but became physically weakened and thin, for a long period never going out for a walk and endeavouring to move as little as possible. I also gave up my morning exercises, a prac- tice which I had kept up without interruption since my boyhood, even during the crowded conditions in Cell No. Ee ~ % — ere oman wees Ia ae wu cemareryeaste ae Re eps age cac nc le eens pale bice alesse Sui T SLITS a ee ss —— a) _ whi hd bee Sea rica “ eile ees x — . tsi ea AR eesNIST Aa ot eR EE searsee Ee ah eae ELITR EE i a so Bi Ne a re og ae - maa ae | ee rss Ba i BRiaS RRR ‘ Put Ao Sie ete enue: 2 eee a ——— o 210 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON 11 before the trial. I do not know how my experience would have ended, if strange and very sudden changes in my physical condition and in my state of health had not forced me to call in a doctor. First of all, I was struck by the very rapid growth of hair on my head and face, which necessitated having my hair cut once a week and shaving twice a day. Even so, by late in the evening my face looked as though it had not felt a razor for days. This phenomenon lasted for a month; then I began to fatten, or, more correctly speaking, to bloat terribly. My face became waxlike and yellow and almost round, my lips bloodless, while my hands and feet were always cold and, from time to time, my heart seemed to contract in my breast, setting up an indefinable terror in me. “Something is wrong with me,” I finally decided. “I must consult the doctor, for I do not want to die in prison.” The doctor came this same day, overhauled me thor- oughly and asked about my way of living. “Do not work for two weeks, eat more, walk and exer- cise as much as possible. Otherwise no one will be able to help you—and there can be only one result.” Accepting my new campaign orders, I put books and notes in my trunk, closed my inkstand and went into the yard, It was already summer, the advent of which I had almost failed to remark in the seclusion of my cell; Uke prison enclosure was dirty and unattractive, full of refuse building material, which had been left there after the place had been remodelled into a prison for us. Having no liking for aimless work, aimless walks and aimless movements, I decided to turn the doctor's prescription for exercise to the good of the prison life. Summoning some of the young prisoners to help me, I began to clean up the yard and, when this was accomplished, to makePRISON “EL DORADO” 211 some beds for gardening, in which I planted peas and tomatoes. Making use of my studies of commercial fer- ‘ilizers, I secured through the warden and applied such materials which forced energetically our delinquent plantings and gave us very gratifying crops. In another ‘sed we had flowers—asters, sweet peas and gillyflowers, which later provided me continuously with bouquets for my table. , Slowly, through careful dieting and living, I regained my appetite and the ability to sleep, and was soon able to begin some gymnastics, which gradually restored to my muscles their former elasticity and strength. This I often tested and proved in wrestling bouts with the strong- est prisoners and even with some of the soldiers, while the Commandant of the Prison and the officer on duty had slipped off to the neighbouring restaurant for a glass of wine or a game of billiards. Finally this régime brought back to me my normal health. URAL TEC tTPgTETs Be FRET OLE TA eUTITU? me rE le sab z ee es ese tect Dap bas SS 4 ph he a Gri a heeabemiahbin erinticebawengateied . Fuse DE LETS BOL ETP ee a =Aihara BIDAR af SOSH RS Fo) end a pate & Boy peat $ ie ti eh Sa RERTRE CHAPTER XXI NOWAKOWSKI’S BOMB ees weeks spent in such close contact with the other residents of the prison gave me the oppor- tunity for many interesting observations and fascinating experiences. The first came with Nowakowski. The calm, serious old man underwent a great change of dis- position. Though he grew angry and nervous, his rela- tions with me were always friendly and good; for, under- standing instinctively that an enforced companionship in one room is a difficult and disagreeable trial, I always endeavoured to make my presence as unobtrusive and as little obnoxious as possible. I spoke only when he him- self started the conversation, made no disorder or noise in the room and always moved as little and as quietly as possible; and, as Nowakowski bore himself in the same way, we got on very well together. We understood each other almost telepathically, so that we hardly needed to use words. On the other hand, everything outside of our cell angered the old man. The loud steps of the guards in the corridor so upset his equilibrium that he would run to the door and, hammering it with his fists, cry out: “You put us into this ‘stone bag’ and even here leave us no peace, you executioners!” He scolded the prisoners and soldiers, when they ran about in the yard; he continually complained about the 212NOWAKOWSKITS BOMB 213 badly baked bread which we received from the prison kitchen. One day, when he was especially out of humour, it happened that the Prosecutor and the Colonel in com- mand of the gendarmes visited the prison. The news of this visit had an effect upon Nowakowski entirely com- arable with that of the red cloak of the toreador on the maddened Andalusian bull in the Plaza de Toros. “Executioners! Thieves! Robbers!” he muttered, snorting loudly and angrily. We heard the doors of the cells being opened one after the other and finally our turn came. “Have you any complaints to make about your treat- ment?” asked the Prosecutor, from behind whom peered out the red, smiling face of the Colonel. I was silent, put Nowakowski did not choose to follow my lead and let go at them: “We have one principal complaint—we are illegally detained in prison, in spite of the fact that we are merely peaceful and cultured men.” The officials were surprised and gazed for a moment in silence. Finally the Prosecutor rebutted with: “We are in no way responsible for this; we cannot change the sentence of the court. What I am concerned with is complaints about everyday occurrences.” “Look what sort of bread they give us!” exclaimed Nowakowski, snatching the loaf of bread and thrusting it under the nose of the Prosecutor. ‘The proper baking of bread, I suppose, is no concern of yours either?” The Prosecutor examined the bread, sniffed it, felt it and handed it to the Colonel, who in turn inspected the loaf, sniffed it, felt it and returned it to Nowakowski. “Yes,” he muttered indecisively. “Yes what?” the old man asked severely. “Bread,” the authorities answered in return.— ee bars — ji RRA Ma RTE at nro ies Soo eRA NTA RIAN! ehe ca ae Be Hh twa sce a 2 214 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “Not ‘bread,’ but badly baked bread,’ Nowakowski exploded. “I insist upon an inquiry into the matter.” “Well . . .” was all the Prosecutor had to say, as he bade us good-bye and went out with the Colonel. After they had gone, Nowakowski, with his round loaf in his hand, took up his post at the door and watched as a cat watches at the hole of a mouse. Then, just as the authorities accompanied by the Commandant of the Prison and the officer on duty, reached the head of the stairs, Nowakowski jerked the door open, rushed out into the corridor and shouted: “A bomb! A bomb!” as he assumed the classic pose of the discus thrower and hurled the loaf after them. “The bomb” landed with a thud and bounded along the uneven flooring in their direction. The result was as elec- tric as it was unexpected ; for the Prosecutor, the Colonel and after them the Commandant and the watchers, jostling one another in panic, fought to get down the stairs away from the bomb of the angry old man. Only the officer on duty kept his head, waited till the loaf had spent its fury, picked it up and, bending over the banister, called out: “Tt is only bread, common bread “No, not ‘common bread’ but uncommonly badly baked bread,” Nowakowski shouted at him. When the old man was summoned to the prison office for this joke of his, I waited with impatience for his re- turn. Contrary to my fears and expectations, he came back quite pleased and smiling, having left in the office all his spleen and anger, which was often only the result of nerves, that plague the prisoners in their unnatural confinement. “How did you get out of it?” “The Prosecutor, putting on a bold front, asked me >?NOWAKOWSKI’S BOMB 216 what I called out when I threw the loaf. He was making himself look very terrible, to recover the amount of im- pressiveness lost by the rapid retreat he beat before the soldiers and watchers out into the prison yard. I an- swered him quite suavely: ‘After throwing the bread, I called out to you that you had forgotten to take the loaf for the inquiry and that it was more like a bomb than bread.’ Of course, I never said anything of the sort. I simply wanted to frighten these executioners of the Tsar and had to find some way out of it. Now we shall cer- tainly have good bread and, what is more, we shall never see the Prosecutor again, which will be a great conso- lation.” And it was the calm, silent Nowakowski, always deeply immersed in thought, who played such a trick! Equally unusual was the result, for we did really have good bread afterwards, and the Prosecutor never paid us another visit. — rat - s acorn amaealieiaiaaitina, - - = a Se z Ae 4 AA ‘ Rea ae =< ile = u BS > P ay icon iad be Sipat ga thf oph ben Sate — Qik Ese Se ea Soares care ah Gee Spail eo shgaa per pei baie rare ipikg tis Tad bks Wis pant Se aera tat eels tS Ee reer Sp BA aig inFORO eA he ba ALGO ATE RR BA bat h—teee bis Rates “3 re i et a SC ee ares NIE Br rede ena cei ge rte ns CHAPTER XXII TRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS Cy prison colony constantly increased, as new polit- ical prisoners were brought in, some of them al- ready sentenced and others held to await their trials. As there was nothing to curb the excesses of the revolution- ary groups after the Union of Workers had been dis- solved, acts of terror, agitation against the State and attempts against the depositaries of Government funds to secure money for revolutionary purposes became rather frequent occurrences in the territory of the Far East. Their presence and their despondency reacted strongly upon all of us; for you must know that a prison is very excitable. Spread the news that aman condemned to death is within its walls, and the spirit of it changes at once. A morbid concentration sets in, which often runs into despair or real madness. I remember that one morning a good-looking, fair- haired young man, named Arsenieff, was brought in. Perhaps twenty-five years old, he already carried a look of profound sadness in his dreamy blue eyes. That same day he was tried and condemned to death. His story was simple and easily understood by anyone who knew the Russian life. The gendarmes shot his brother, a rev- olutionist, in Blagoveschensk, whereupon Arsenieff shot the commander of the gendarmes in revenge and fled to Harbin, where he was discovered and arrested. 216TRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS 217 He returned from the court at nine o’clock in the eve- ning and, going from cell to cell after his arrival, he looked sharply and quizzically into the faces of each one of his fellow-prisoners. When he came to our cell, he carefully closed the door, looked us straight in the eyes and whispered: “T am condemned to die. They will certainly execute me to-night, as they will be in a hurry to have the thing over. Will you help to save my life?” “Of course!’ we both assured him. “Thank you,” he whispered fervently. “When the supper is brought, I want as much of a commotion as pos- sible to be made throughout the whole prison. Profit by the slightest chance to make all the disturbance you can, and during this distraction I shall work out something for myself.” As soon as he had gone out, Nowakowski and I quietly made the round of the cells and gave all the prisoners directions as to the part they were to take in the commo- tion. It transpired fortunately that no specious pretext had to be resorted to, owing to the fact that the prisoners who were not receiving food from home were served with a cabbage soup in which some worms were found. The commotion started from somewhere and swelled like a roll of thunder through the prison with the curses, cries, the hammering of fists on tables and doors, and loud demands to see the Commandant of the Prison, the off- cer on duty, the Prosecutor and even the Tsar himself. When such a row is set up by two hundred nervous excited men, the noise can become dreadful. The whole staff, down to the last of the soldiers and the cook’s helpers, rushed up to calm us. The passers-by in the street, attracted by the cries in the prison, stopped in astonishment. No one remained in the prison yard andih 218 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON hy this court. Only the sentinels outside the high board fence kept their posts. Arsenieff carefully watched the developments and, when the authorities and staff had all gathered in the most populous and most protesting cell, he slipped un- noticed into the yard, noiselessly climbed the fence until he could see over the top, and there made out a guard not two paces away from him with his head turned in the other direction, as he stared into the upper windows of the tumultuous prison. Back of the prison yard was | | | an open lot covered with a rank growth of high weeds ry and thick bushes. Suddenly Arsenieff drew himself up and jumped down behind the astonished soldier, who from fright fumbled and dropped his rifle, while the fugitive was making off for the bushes, and only then let go a shot at him and blew the warning whistle that started all the others. Arsenieff succeeded in getting away and disappeared without a trace, while the soldier, after reporting how the thing had occurred, was tried and sentenced to four months in prison for having bungled the matter. I never heard any- thing more as to the fate of the daring prisoner. Did he ultimately succeed in evading the authorities, who ti must have instituted a doubly careful search for him; or | was he finally captured and executed, as a man already | condemned and in addition a fugitive now placed beyond . the law? I remember only his dreamy and very sad eyes. Severe criticism and considerable difficulties were vis- ited upon the authorities of the prison as a result of this escape, and we prisoners were also punished by being | deprived of our walks for a week and by having all the doors of our cells locked, so that there could be no further communication between us. However, these measures did Sigs bbind Tt pte ehh Xi 20-07 Gite ok ph Lb aRETE nf pebabbie. fe HL bia iain eer Peay | the frightened guards even forgot to close the doors into | | } Papen = rr ih re Pat ra sy ares ith reed i te toe bet ail ob wee OR ee be pel 8 Se PALES SE Ts a ih aE ERATE RR ESE NS Ts een ia ~ oe: at are gee apoetoen Ener nace comenen ibe PUR RIAA On aTTRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS 219 not prevent another one of our inmates from vanishing like camphor. Among the prisoners there was a young boy of only seventeen, whose face, as beautiful and delicate as that of a girl, attracted every one’s attention. His long curly hair was also as soft and fine as that of a woman. His name was Kostenko, and he was a telegraph oper- ator. He had been implicated in an affair for which he was under sentence of banishment to the north of Siberia. One Sunday when there were many guests in the visi- tors’ room, a young girl came to see Kostenko. She gave him a little package, took off her hat and coat and, seat- ing herself by the window, began laughing and talking loudly with the good-looking boy. When the signal was given for the closing of the visitors’ hour, the prisoners returned immediately to their cells, while the guests filed out, presenting their passes to the guard as they went. After everyone had gone, the Commandant of the Prison, passing the reception-room on the way to his office, noticed the young girl seated at the window. “What are you doing here?” he asked in astonishment. “T cannot go out, because Mr. Kostenko took my hat and coat, put them on, fixed his hair to make it look like a woman’s and left the room, after telling me that he wanted to amuse his prison mates with his new costume and that he would be back in a few minutes. I am wait- ing for him to return.” “What a state of affairs,” the Commandant muttered ; “jokes and games in the prison! I’ll make it hot for the keepers.” He rang and ordered Kostenko to be brought in. After a considerable delay a frightened-looking keeper returned and reported: Ree A AE CT eae eee Wikis tesipetshaneel aiegs, Ecce S = F Oy ee eR aT PP ee EL a ots ai pairs koe py Lge oo STA Ser ee arr oT gis blag ba Pi mies li Kl a aerate a omen TEL RL ee ee pee yR eh wees sin BS 3b Aabee— tet SE Sencar aA ps TER EGA SAGE ND UNDA A 4 ' : j f / : i \ i i K : ak 1 aed 8 a x fa i TE P ‘yao a a bf it 2 aN) ait pre cerertee nf Aerie 220 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “The prisoner Kostenko is nowhere to be found and must have escaped, sir!’ Minute search was immediately instituted but failed to disclose the missing boy. “Where is your pass?” the Commandant demanded of the girl. “It was in the pocket of my coat,” the girl answered, and began weeping. “Please give me the value of my hat and coat, for I am a poor girl and work hard for my living. Your prisoner has robbed me, and I shall make a complaint about it.” But tears availed nothing. When the examining mag- istrate arrived and began looking into the matter, he or- dered the girl to the little Cell No. 3 to be held during the search for Kostenko, because she was suspected, in spite of her tears, of being the accomplice of the fugitive. She remained in custody for two weeks, during which she complained bitterly about the losses caused by the “scoundrel of a prisoner,’ as she disdainfully labelled Kostenko. When the fugitive was not found after a fortnight, she was set free. As she was about to leave and was saying good-bye to a group of Kostenko’s friends, she half closed her very active, sparkling eyes and whispered: “He must be already in Shanghai... . She went merrily off without any hat and coat but with the pleasing thought that she had probably saved the life of a fellow-creature and one that was very dear to her. The prisoners left behind remembered her for a long time and very often referred to her as “the sly she- eagle.” However, some other attempts at escape were not so successful. I remember three labourers being brought in one evening. Shortly after the keepers put them in their 33TRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS 221 different cells, they went to the wash-room, whispered a moment among themselves and suddenly bolted through the kitchen into the yard, where they scrambled up over the fence and ran for it. Several sentries fired at them and all three went down. When the soldiers and keepers reached them, two were already dead and the third had a wounded foot. For his attempt to escape this one was tried two months later and received six years of hard labour. Such events ruffled the calm of the prison, some- times in a mirthful and sometimes in a very sad manner. Gradually I began to take a more active part in the prison life. Finding among my accidental housemates many young men who were quite illiterate, I proposed to Nowakowski that we start some instruction work and soon had formed with him classes in reading, writing and accounts. In addition we gave daily lectures in history, literature and physical science, to which the keepers, the soldiers and finally even the Commandant and his assis- tants, most of them but very poorly educated, came and listened attentively. The prisoners were attracted to us, respected us and were really fond of us. We enjoyed the respect of the authorities also and profited from this, in that, whenever punishment was meted out to the whole prison after someone had escaped, exception was made in the case of Nowakowski and myself, so that our habits of life were in no way restricted or changed. It was interesting and curious to observe the psychol- ogy of individuals thus kept continuously within four walls and obliged to live together. I often saw serious and well-educated men quarrelling about some such trivial matter as that one of them had taken a bigger piece of bread or meat than was his rightful portion, and, be- cause of this, turning enemies and refusing to shake hands with each other. It was a strange phenomenon,es m AS aor Riana rh erar ict MAS BAG GASEAAH USER SUPERB ace ee ity rai! ‘. ia part a is is Suisse gS SHG EH Se ee San ee core 222 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON induced by the abnormal and aggravating conditions of prison life and by the nerve-wearing necessity of con- stant and intimate association throughout long months with others not of one’s own choosing. I saw two engineers quarrel and become estranged in bitter hatred over . . . kittens! There was an old cat in the prison kitchen with some very attractive, vivacious little kittens. One of the prisoners, an engineer, took the kittens to the common cell, where about twenty men were living together, and constituted himself the guardian of these offspring of the kitchen-domiciled mother. One morning another engineer, who had waked before his companion, put some milk and bread in a basin for the kittens’ breakfast. When the first engineer awoke and saw the second on his knees, watching the little ones eat, he began reproaching him and accusing him of usurping the right to take care of the kittens, adding that this was nothing more than the “anarchistic principle” of violat- ing the holy right of private property and that his actions were those of a dishonest companion. A quarrel began during which a third person stepped in and appropriated the kittens and after which the two engineers for ever remained irreconcilable enemies. Such a demoralizing and degrading influence has the life of the prison in the common cells! Their inmates are often brought to a state of numb indifference to everything, to a brooding, morbid silence which smothers the mental faculties; or they suddenly burst forth in some violent explosion and then are not capable of restraining their anger, completely forgetting their culture and the dignity of man, created in the likeness of God. I remember one occasion on which the whole prison was poisoned through the serving of spoiled fish. Con- trary to what one would naturally suppose, this reallyTRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS 223 revolting accident was passed without protestation, owing to the fact that the thought-deadened colony was too en- feebled to have the stamina to protest. At another time, right in the warmth of summer, when a broken pane of glass was not immediately replaced, such a revolt devel- oped among the prisoners that soldiers with fixed bay- onets were stationed in each of the cells. I often felt such psychologic changes within my own self. I can never forget some of these events which occurred during my sojourn in prison. For a single example—although the door of my cell was never locked and I could consequently go, whenever I wished, into the corridor, to the kitchen for water or tea, out into the yard for tomatoes or beans from our little garden or to walk, I sometimes did not go out for days at a time. When, however, in preparation for the coming of some higher authorities, the doors of all the cells were locked, I found myself at once urged by a dozen reasons to quit the cell. As soon as I heard the key turn in the lock, I immediately ran to the door, ham- mered it with my fists and shouted to the keeper to open it, as I wanted to bring water and wood from the kitchen. In such a moment of restriction I believe that the feel- ing of the loss of liberty is rendered markedly more acute and that there is at once awakened a violent spirit of protest in the whole organism, which subconsciously re- gards liberty as the highest form of happiness and as the primary, inviolate condition of conscious human life as a part of society, State and nation. During the days when my soul was being washed by the ebbing and flowing tides of prison sentiment, I was called one afternoon into the prison office, where I found an officer and an official from the railway, whom I knew, waiting forme. They rose when I entered and presentedSaas tu Ca beeps, b Feet th ot at isd. ee eS ee eras eee eee ee ree (HEH AEN DESEO msi 2 7 site ae = aah 4 rl oe e: r a a ae miaieal staan ef pa ian Ret oa a See paca sania 224 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON me with a document and a small red-leather box, an- nouncing to me at the same time that this high decora- tion had been sent me from St. Petersburg at the request of General Kuropatkin in recognition of my work for the army, of course before I “became the President of the Revolutionary Government,” as the officer took the precaution to explain. At first blush I did not know exactly what to do. Then my feelings took charge and I became angry. They val- ued my earlier services because I had provided the army with fuel; then, for my later services, which saved the army from anarchy and from starvation during the Rev- olution, they all but shot me and were now keeping me in the “stone bag!’ “T cannot accept a decoration from a Government which confers rewards on an individual with its right hand and slams prison doors behind him with its left!” I answered them, and bowed myself out of their presence. This event for ever deprived me of the right to receive a decoration from the Tsar; yet I never regretted it and always maintained jokingly that I was in strained rela- tions with Nicholas II, in spite of the fact that he sought to propitiate me by offering me “lodging free of rent and with full maintenance” for two years and a decora- tion in the bargain. Days, weeks and months passed. In general the life of the prison was even and calm, interrupted only occa- sionally by some unanticipated flurry or some unusual event. From time to time, like gusts of wind, came dis- turbing rumours that the numerous escapes had attracted to our prison the unwelcome attention of the high au- thorities of St. Petersburg, who urged the closing of the political prison at Harbin and the scattering of its in- mates among the gaols of the other towns of East Si-TRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS 225 beria. These recommendations would probably have been followed promptly, had General Horvat not used his in- fluence to justify and secure the continuance of our insti- tution with its more bearable conditions. However, we felt convinced that we should not be fortunate enough to yemain there until the end of our terms. Meanwhile our building became fuller than ever, largely through the prisoners that were transferred from other towns. One day there came in a group, among whom was an unusual personality, a man named Feklin. He had been a sergeant in one of the Siberian regiments, and had taken part in the Boxer Uprising in China in 3900, during which he was in the relief of Peking; and afterwards, throughout the whole of the Russo-Japanese ‘Var, was at the front, where he showed great courage, was wounded several times and won for himself all the degrees of the Cross of St. George. He belonged to the splendid tribe of the Chuvash, living between the River Kama and the Ural Mountains. On his return from the front he fell in love with the daughter of a rich merchant, and, as the girl was also pleased with this daring, much-decorated hero, they were soon betrothed. One day, during a political manifesta- tion, Feklin rose and made a strong speech, in which he severely criticized the handling of matters in the army. Asa result of this he was arrested and, for some incom- prehensible reason, was transferred about from one prison to another until he finally turned up at our hos- pitable door in Harbin. Though he was not very intelligent, he talked a great deal and was evidently straightforward, so that the whole prison, even to the keepers and soldiers, soon knew that he was madly in love with his betrothed, that he was jealous and not certain that she would wait for him, even Tart tt bales gre pew Senses LAr oi PERL PIT eH Se ies Kia ep Fa wh HY EMULE Srp LS aie ace tal ene a bi ea ala SRRAMSSerereret tere er tet. ee Wier UE “ it ————e o Ere et eee SUhacenie ciear tera etre cpa, Sint SAUNA aR OE ARI eae — ENT Beer TINE ee ele ee ae een te) bo oe 2 om Joc SHAT | a aii Weyl FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON 220 though he felt confident the court would soon set him free. Often the poor man wept the whole night through, moaning and tossing like a child in pain. In addition to his other trials, Feklin was plagued by a strange malady, an unknown skin disease, which he had caught during a short detention in one of the prisons of the Ural region. When he showed me his back, I was dumfounded, for all of the skin was tattooed with a dark-blue design like acanthus leaves or like the pattern on a frozen window pane. We called the prison doctor, who had never seen or heard of such an infection. He studied Feklin for a long time, summoned other doctors from the town and finally called in a bacteriologist, who discovered that the man had been infected with some weeds, which penetrated the skin and developed quickly, causing his great suffering. When the diagnosis had been made, the nursing was easy and rapid, so that in a few short weeks Alexei Feklin lost the “botanical gar- den” which he had been carrying around on his back. Finally the man’s trial came, lasted two days and had avery sad ending. Sentenced to banishment north of the district of the Amur, the unfortunate man was in despair, sobbed like a child and beat his head against the wall. “Never, never again shall I see my beloved Maria he cried, almost beside himself. When only three days remained before he was to start his long, despairing journey, he was called to the war- den’s office. As he entered, he stopped, swayed for a second and swooned. Returning to consciousness, he saw above him the tear-stained but happy face of his be- trothed, who had searched for him everywhere and had now finally discovered and joined him. On the following day the orthodox priest came to the prison and there, before the circle of the condemned, married this Spartan !??TRANSIENTS AND TUNDRAS 227 daughter of the rich merchant to the man who had been Jeprived of his rights as a citizen and banished to the tundras. Through her marriage with Feklin she lost by her own free will her citizen rights as well and assumed with him the life of banishment, whose full measure of denial and deprivation has never been sensed by anyone that has not spent years in those north Siberian wastes. They began their wedding journey in a prison car that was to take them eastward, then up over the Ussuri line to Habarovsk, from where, by wagon and on foot, they were to travel to the wild, solitary spot in the Far North which the tribunal of justice had selected for their home. There among the marshes and the forests which rotted in them they were to build their nest and raise their brood to the life which their foster-mother, this Lady Justice, chose for them. Though their love was powerful and pure and could surely live down the greatest hardships, might not sick- ness and the all-searching cold of the north invade their poorly built shelter and extinguish their fire and with it the life of these two burning human souls? For a long time the prison could not forget Feklin and his Maria. Often, when the wind roared and blew driving snow against the prison windows, one of the prisoners would sigh and ask with evident emotion in his voice: “Well, what about Alexei and Maria? Are they still alive?” No answer was possible to this heart-stirring question. SIME eee RFP Se Peeps Spelt a ET ra i a 3 i aeae pai: ¥ ibaesast ti } ‘IA RS oe aOR aay ' aRRIRAGAS phe he att or sti} %: Saat he bas teh ery itn aoe His Se a CHAPTER XXIII TO THE CRIMINAL PRISONS Qe presentiments proved to be all too correct. St. Petersburg pressed more and more insistently for the closing of the political prison in Harbin and the transfer of all those under sentence to regular prisons throughout the Far East. Foreseeing the inevitable de- velopments, our influential friends sought to have us transferred to the fortress at Vladivostok, where a group from the local branch of our Central Committee, with the brother of General Horvat, engineer W. L. Horvat, at its head, was already confined. The correspondence between Harbin and St. Petersburg lasted for a long time, unnerving us and causing us to lose our moral grip. It was in March of 1907, when Nowakowski and the others who had been condemned to a year’s imprison- ment had only a fortnight left of their terms and when, of course, they had no wish to travel in prison cars to Vladivostok or any other Siberian town to be marched through its streets to a new and more degrading gaol. One day the spindle was sprung, when we were informed that the reactionary Minister of the Interior, Durnovo, had ordered that all those who had been condemned to fortress prison be placed, until the end of their terms, in criminal prisons. He was taking this measure to make the enemies of the Government feel the whole weight of 228TO THE CRIMINAL PRISONS 229 their punishment by passing through the hell of these in- stitutions. As this order was irrevocable, we were in despair, for we knew full well, from the stories we had heard, the inexpressible misery in which the prisoners in these gaols existed. However, even this disagreeable turn of events had its comical side. After Nowakowski had read the proclamation which published to the prison this disheartening news, he swore energetically and persistently and completely lost his usual good humour, walking up and down for whole hours from one corner of the cell to the other, and mut- tering: “Fool! Fool!” “Who is a fool?” I finally asked him. “T am,” he answered and stopped right in front of me, as I looked at him in astonishment “I am,’ he repeated with emphasis and conviction, “because it was I myself who built the criminal prison over in Pristan and now I am to be locked up init! Is it not the irony of Fate, a joke of lifer’ He spat energetically and again took up his tramp across the cell, snorting and muttering. I had a good laugh at his expense. Life could really not have played a sorer practical joke on this builder of the prison. However, Nowakowski was spared the actual fulfil- ment of this bit of grim humour, owing to the fact that the preparations for the transfer of the political prisoners consumed so much time that the end of the term of Nowakowski and some of the others came before these were completed, so that on March 23, 1907, this little group was set free to go back into the world—and face the new persecutions by the Tsar’s officials and gen- darmes which awaited them. I was left quite alone in my cell. At first I missed the RR Ta PET reer zs _ oi See rves wi ois feet Sere ee - Ler = gee siie eee ESL ora vibe DES,DD tk a Moe eid CSenS USSSe re WIGS A Wee ToS a rr PHS EES — QE edi untierine ta Paes eh > Sie = 230 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON bent figure of the grey-haired, silent Nowakowski. Long- ing often gnawed at my mind and heart, but soon every- thing was engulfed in a strange, dull indifference to all that was happening in my moral and physical spheres. It was just as though I had for some time been effaced from life, as though I had been in a lethargy and were at intervals coming back to consciousness, only to fall again into a sleep still more profound and heavy, un- marked by dreams or by any remembrance of a former existence. Such an experience is only normal in the life of a prisoner and explains why men who have been sen- tenced to long terms do not, for the most part, begin to work of their own will, for they instinctively realize that the end of the period of their exclusion from the life of the State and of society is still so far away that the one single thought is simply to wait for it to come and there is no reason to begin to prepare for it through work. This is the most demoralizing influence of the prison, since a man after this lethargy rarely knows how, when he is set free, to return to normal life. Moreover, he must inevitably go through a period of despondency, strongly set with doubt and with hate, not only the hatred for the authorities who condemned him but also that for society, which looks with silence and indifference upon the moral tortures of the inmates of its prisons. I really do not know which suffers the more in a Rus- sian prison, the simple man or the cultured one. While the first may develop a degenerating laziness and hate, in the second there may readily appear more dangerous symptoms, which tend to destroy his whole spiritual structure. I have specially in mind that despondency— impossible to formulate in words—as to the real value of life and work in a time when there is so much legal injustice in the depriving of man of liberty and of theTO THE CRIMINAL PRISONS 231 natural conditions of normal life, that is, of the possibil- ity of expressing human sentiments, thoughts and actions. After my first fourteen months of imprisonment under what might be called unusually favourable conditions, I observed these changes in myself and, for a long time after I was finally out of the “stone bag,” I could not muster the necessary strength to correct these deformi- ties. From the course of my tale the reader will realize that I know the prison through and through, that I have had the opportunity to look into the depths of the souls of its miserable and very unhappy population and that I have, consequently, the right to give expression to my one out- standing thought regarding it. First, let us admit at once that modern society is so organized that it cannot exist without eliminating from its life certain personalities, which are too theoretically expansive to conform to its institutions as they stand and are, therefore, dangerous to it; but do not let us, through the law, make of them monsters breathing ruin and hate for ever after. Give them the most normal con- ditions of life, fill their monotonous days with work, study and talks with men who are wise and full of under- standing; try to wake in their hearts healthful remorse, shame and disgust for their former actions; heal them and make them over morally, not only with words and prison regulations, but with a constructively beneficial régime for their enforced life behind the prison bars. Remember this in the name of Love and Justice; re- member it for the sake of your own security, keeping before you the terrible example of Russia, where, in this land of prisons, banishment and executioners, whole Tivers of innocent and valuable blood have been shed during these past seven years through the opportunitiesbre ey APL ee ti ie peenerne ome eo HES Fea STA fH RE a pe ARIANA NAL is 232 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON given to the former inhabitants of the “stone bags” ta revenge themselves upon the men guilty of their torture —and upon the innocent, who, in silence, allowed thé crime of the others to pass unchallenged. In the early days of April, when I had still six months of imprisonment ahead of me, one morning at about seven o’clock our few possessions were loaded on a big flat wagon, and we were herded into the crude “Black Marias” of Russia and taken over to the criminal prison in the commercial quarter of Harbin. This immense building of red brick, with barred win dows, stood enclosed by a high wall, at whose corners soldiers in protruding, round turrets swept the sides of the square. Other armed guards were posted at the ens trance and were doing sentinel duty all around the base of the wall. When the skeleton iron door closed with a dull noise and a rattle behind us, a crushing presenti- ment, an indescribable longing fastened itself upon ouf hearts. Some guards, armed with revolvers and swords, were stationed about the prison yard, where a group of pris oners were carrying big buckets filled with dishwater. In an exercise cage, which had been built in the centre of the yard, a prisoner was shuffling up and down with a heavy, swaying tread, induced by the irons on his feet, which clanked at every movement. From a side wing of the building a line of women pris= oners under the care of a matron were just coming out They were carrying soiled linen and were evidently going to the wash-room. One of them spoke to me. She was no longer young, rather tall and had a thin, gloomy face, out of which gleamed threateningly stern, black eyes. As she passed near me, she bent toward me and whispered: “You want, perhaps, to die? I have a sure poison,TO THE CRIMINAL PRISONS 233 made of herbs. A little of it put in your tea will be suf- ficient.” I was silent and experienced a feeling of great depres- sion. “When you want it, please remember my name. I am called ‘Daria the Black.’ . . . It isa good, strong herb.” The matron called sharply at her for lingering, and she went on. We spent a long time in the yard, while our belongings, documents and photographs were being registered in the "ommandant’s office. From the principal building quite a number of prisoners came out to walk in the yard and, little heeding the shouts and cuffings of the keepers, crowded round us with a score of questions. “Ah-h-h!’ drawled one of them, a rather short man with broad shoulders and hands that reached down to his knees. “Citizens—the dear intelligentsia! Ah-ha! You put us in your prisons, because sometimes we pinch you a little. But I see that now you are beginning to destroy vourselves. This is well, Citizens!” As he said this, he poked me in the side with his fist, while the others, with the same aggravating familiarity, began to push my companions about and to jest them roughly. I looked at the man for a moment. He hada vicious, colourless face, oblique eyes and ears like those of a bat. “What is your name?” I asked him. “The one they gave me at my birth,” he answered with a laugh and, putting his arm around my neck, added: “Well, comrade, don’t prance!” “Leave me in peace, or it will be the worse for you,” I returned calmly but very definitely. “I don’t like familiarity or stupid jokes.” “And what difference is it to me that you don’t likeat HRS radia ri =i. $e) be Sees OSE Pat Se = VI OOS OE SET thi a Mi at adits Saari pear p ieisensy : ; path a. She ree ANS 4 2 nl 4 1 : ' ae ee ATTN Cre Tee ee REPT RES Se ee Riereepentcnrnt ts Ritts street asa aime rh a i ET Bie Stet? ts af TERY pies a3ahy gilt Hae pity RAE Gad Ceothe tee seat paaeeaege pease tf | | 234 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON this?” he replied with a good deal of disdain, at the same time trying to take hold of my neck again. “Then take that,” and, with a strong lunge on the jaw, I sent him over clean. His group immediately retreated, muttering: “Eh! this is a bad bird.” My over-intimate acquaintance picked himself up rather leisurely and went off without saying a word for a walk in the cage. “That is Mironoff,” explained one of the keepers, who came up to me. “You struck him hard and he will now respect you.” An hour later in my cell, which had only a single small window near the ceiling and was but four paces in length, I began walking up and down and reflecting on the char- acteristic way the prison had met me—with poison and fight. “Here one must either give up and flee from life or fight with his own strength, in order to have anything approaching a possible existence,” I wrote in my note- book as my first observation on the criminal prison. Although to me now the memories and impressions from the prisons at Harbin, Vladivostok, Nikolsk, Niko- laievsk and Habarovsk form one immense black and gloomy background of a life crushingly monotonous through its continual torture, there pass across the fore- ground of this great canvas of memory, like flashes of bright and dazzling lightning, unusual figures, events fraught with strength and impulse, unhappy souls, some- times beautiful in their tortures and longings and, at others, unbelievably powerful in their actions. Unknown and unknowable Fate threw me into these “stone bags” filled with human dust; into this strange world full of contradictions, with a life revolving everTO THE CRIMINAL PRISONS 235 within the limits of the four walls surrounding the crim- inal prisons of Russia; into these packs of pariahs, these victims of the stupid Russian disregard and cruelty. This life does not take its character from any incidence of locality or from the personality of the authorities; it is the result of the collective soul of the Russian nation. Therefore, I shall describe it as though I had seen it and lived it in a single place, though I repeat again, that there may be no misunderstanding, that my record is made up of the events, impressions and experiences in the several prisons to which I was transferred before the expiration of my term. Everywhere they were tied together with the one ever-present thread of tragedy in these molecules of human dust,—a tragedy stormy and fascinating, though at times bright withal. ips v + = = ee RWRSAEOa AN eet Ae SCT URN ppb lpi tip uns bob laraas ey ei — cued enn anther? rig hs cai _ Eee cask wept in be Sinks as STI? spaiepane’ eee ens AUTRE OMA Laster tes ae Kid 7 List pep omerae aesii Sd MT "i stl een eziaR x . aiipiem ote cca heist Part III IN HUMAN DUST WAT es tak onan aCHAPTER XXIV BEYOND THE PALE S we had been condemned to “fortress prison,” in each of the places to which we were transferred we had the very gratifying distinction granted us of being given individual cells. Everywhere these were quite alike, damp and contaminated little dens with thick walls, strong iron doors, a small barred window near the ceiling, a bed, a chair, a table and a box for our things. As we political prisoners were always kept apart in one special wing of the principal building, we were treated on quite a different basis from the ordinary inmates—the doors of our cells were not locked, and a criminal pris- oner was told off to clean our rooms, boots and clothes, as well as to cook our food, which was of a better quality than the ordinary prison fare and for which we paid in the prison office with the money sent us from our homes. In every prison where I was kept for any length of time I set to work along two main lines: first I cleaned and put everything in my cell in order as best I could, then I planted beds of vegetables and flowers. In the Harbin prison I discovered a small supply of cement left in a drum in the store-room and with this made a fairly large concrete basin, which I placed in that part of the prison yard given over to our exercise. When it was set, I filled it with water and put in my artificial pond some Cladophore and other water-plants, given me by the wife 239 en —_ —-+ ——— eames - ° r * “ os u er ne = eS bal ‘ 5 oa OTT tak als SO on ae ie - z. . py etki ge stele pees 4 Loeb bp Re sap pv bol ie gees es mids Bap res a tale ts - es MATISSE ES sor 5 DB = eenati Easy pas Saari seaetces RNS Sate Ths Seppe 4 of Tete 240 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON of one of the keepers; and, after these were well estab- lished, I added some crustaceans and two little tortoises. This improvised aquarium gave us men, deprived of our freedom, many delightful hours of watching and feeding the fish and the turtles, which grew so accustomed to us that they would take food from our hands. My second activity was teaching. From the authori- ties I secured permission to visit the large common cells, where there were sometimes as many as two hundred prisoners quartered in the one room. Here I had long talks and discussions on all sorts of subjects, in order to distract the men from brooding over the stern realities of their position and to put into their hearts and minds the seeds of clean and wholesome thoughts. I remember how I frequently told the stories of some of the great benefactors of mankind to the inmates of Cell No. Ts where one hundred and ten of the worst of criminals, condemned to life sentences in irons, surrounded and lis- tened to me, and how the impressions made by my anec- dotes seemed to me quite the same as those on normal men, who look upon a prison as something entirely for- eign and far removed from them. The prisoners came to like and respect me, as they knew that I would not allow an abuse of authority or an unwarranted action to go without protest, and that, if one of the prisoners sought to take liberties with me, I knew how to answer him, just as I had answered Mironoff dur- ing the first hour after our arrival. In view of these facts I was chosen at Harbin, and in some of the other prisons, to be the starosta, or headman, of the prisoners. A’ starosta occupies a position unofficially recognized by the prison as well as by the judicial authorities, is re- spected and listened to by the prisoners and acts as a mediator between them and the wardens or superintend-~ j a e ‘e > al a ia\t alee Le ere De Sar EE 6 rey 53 PLP PTET ered BEYOND THE PALE 241 ent, besides being the accepted judge in the internal af- fairs of the institution. | After I had settled down in the new prison, I again be- | gan to work systematically, to read and to write a great deal and also continued the notes from which I have | drawn most of the material for this book. To give | variety and diversion I wrote some rather fantastic novels, which lifted me from the sombre surroundings of Jj my prison life and transported me to the unknown and | little-travelled lands of my imagination. In addition to these occupations I filled my time with walks in the im- provised garden, with talks and lectures for the prisoners and with gymnastics. Through the window of my cell I could hear the con- Ie versation of the prisoners in two of the common rooms Ss on the second floor. Drawn by the character of their a unguarded utterances, I could not resist going into these ae rooms and very soon had, as a consequence, the whole life of the prison in the hollow of my hand, as it were. I learned the minutest details of it; I saw the bared souls i of the men held between its walls; I understood and ye shared in their misery, despair, hopes and joy; I tried 4 57d ea Beco oa bi he at ee aie eg aI AS Se Paeake to help them, to console them, to build up hope within them, to reach and work upon their consciences, as hard aE as flint, and to lead them gradually into another way of | 14 life. | 4 The older prisoners often laughed at me, though in ie general they liked me and showed evident pleasure in | Wd talking and discussing with me. Quite frequently they Wed gave me presents, which were for the most part figures q or whole scenes from the prison life cleverly made up of bread—men in irons, dragging sacks filled with coal or with stones, fugitives in the forest near a fire with a kettle hanging over it, subjects which awoke and stronglyrade pats ve Sete eae SUSE SH Te a ea ial SRS pres no bs Bea ed reeed ae aa 7) tiene ties 1 tae x Rises Hees ere toot ek . ee 242 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON stirred the artistic fantasies of the prisoners. Sometimes I received other presents, such asa sharp, thin knife, a saw for cutting through the iron bars, a little bottle of poison, a watchchain made of hair, etc. I had a whole museum of these gifts in my cell. One evening about ten o’clock, when I was sitting in my cell writing, I perceived rather than heard that some- body was carefully and noiselessly opening my door and then realized that a shadow was standing behind me. He had entered so deftly and quietly that I did not even turn my head, thinking at the time that I must have been mis- taken. However, after a moment I sensed the breathing of a man and looked behind me, to find that Mironoff was standing there and was gazing at me from his oblique eyes with a look that clearly betokened an unpronounced request. “What do you want?” I asked him, as I rose to be ready for any emergency. “They have assigned me to the work of servant in the political division. I saw that you were not asleep and came in. You must be angry with me for having acted so badly when you came here. Please pardon me.” “No, Iam not angry with you. I forgot all that some time ago.” “Thank you!’ he exclaimed. “May I ask you some- thing?” “Certainly. What is it?” “Allow me to remain in your cell while you are at work.” “But why?” I asked, somewhat astonished. Mironoff gave a sigh and began whispering, as he pointed to that part of the prison which could be seen out through my little window. “You don’t know that up there, where we live, it isBEYOND THE PALE 243 hell, real hell! It is already six years since I entered that terrible den. Here in your cell I feel something different, another air, another appearance of the walls, something else which does not exist there. Now I shall sleep in the corridor and I beg that you allow me to remain in your cell, when you work. I shall be your servant for two weeks and I want to rest from those surroundings up there, to breathe freely and gain some more strength to continue to live.”’ During the whole night I talked with Mironoff and neard from him how he had formerly been a sailor on a merchant vessel, how he had committed several terrible and awful crimes, how he had escaped more than once from his prisons, how he had been caught and flogged and how he had finally been condemned as a habitual criminal to prison for life, which in the language of the prison is referred to as “forever.” With it all he had been a very unfortunate man, for no little part of his lifficulties had been due to unhappy combinations of cir- cumstances. After this first visit it became the regular custom each evening for Mironoff to come to my cell and sit quietly on my box, mending clothes or boots and pondering over matters which brought alternating smiles and frowns to nis hardened prison face. Though I always continued with my reading or writing, I regarded it as my duty to nave a little talk each day with my guest. If Mironoff learned something from me, I also profited from my acquaintance with him. First of all he taught me the prison “wireless teleg- raphy,” which enabled the men to send words or whole sentences by knocking on the walls or on the pipes of the heating system, using a telegraphic alphabet which is changed in each prison to safeguard the secrecy of the 2 nti ia te AO ATC A AAC AAPA oe aa ELD Se ar 5s TILEY REALL FIAT A oe Bee wat sci dLbineieiireecpietinec nibh ercabaesis as bili cals ee neo elh tthe as chaekee awe a np IBce ce rGae nis Uh fe : peeve sT Bath OES eer Repo khs SRL : ere_ SEzF AGE ep tiaras tet ee SARAH CE BRAINS were ye tachi tne a bere estiwebri test Lh — a ; i SARS DEAN anita ete Poor an 244 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON correspondence. The mastering of this code enabled me to understand and study a number of dramas and love affairs of the prison and, when Mironoff was no longer my servant, to pick up his signals and talk with him. I also learned from Mironoff the lingua franca of the prisons and came to know the keeper as the “ment,” the prison as “kiecha,” a knife as a “pen,” a lodging as a “haza,” a revolver as a “shpayer,” a poison as “milk,” a murder as “wet,” to kill as “to sew,” to escape as “‘to fly,” a false passport as “the face” and many more like these, which I treasured in my mind and in my notebook. I liked one expression which came to the prisons from the Volga, at the time when numerous bands of river pirates dominated this great highway to the whole coun- try. These men used to rob and kill the merchants who were bringing their precious Eastern wares from Persia and the Caucasus, and they even mustered strength enough to fight the detachments of the regular army that were sent against them from Moscow. The national literature idealized the leader of these brigands, one Stenka (the diminutive of Stephen) Razin, making of him a hero, who was struggling for the release of the peasants from the slavery to their landlords. The expression used by Stenka Razin, when he was on the point of undertaking some risky expedition, was: “Saryn da na kiechku!’ The influence of both the Tartar and Kalmuck language is phonetically perceptible in the phrase and, as a matter of fact, both have con- tributed to it. This sentence has two different meanings: for the robbers, “Kill and go to prison”; for prisoners, “Break the bars and flee from prison.” After my in- struction by Mironoff, I knew, whenever I heard this phrase, that an attempt to escape was in preparation. Singing holds an important place in prison life. ManyBEYOND THE PALE types of songs are current, some gay, some sad, and they are rendered both as simple airs or with frequently well- combined and impressive part singing. The prisoners put into these songs their whole soul aid they value highly any among them who has unusual talent. I found that the most popular among these prison songs was the one which began: Though the sun ever mounts and descends the blue sky, The dank cell of my prison stays dark. . The songs of the prisons really merit a special, closely analytical study, for in them one can find echoes of all the historical neriod s of Russia, the motifs from the folk- songs of the many peoples which have combined to make up the Russian Empire, the influences of the legends of various Mongolian tribes and, especially, distinct traces of the vivacious, sentimental gipsy music. It is a crush- ingly significant fact that the prisoners never sing re- ligious or pious songs. “We are cursed,” they say: prayers.” These words are terribly tragic, the more so since every prisoner individually and secretly lifts his eyes to Heaven, fervently though almost hopelessly, with longing and despair feeling that from there only can come relief and aid. With my work and in these first studies of the prison life my days passed rather quickly. I felt distinctly that beyond the walls of my individual cell there simmered and boiled quite a different life, this “‘hell’? of which Mironoff had spoken; yet I could not at the outset pene- trate into all its details and its hidden recesses. Time and propitious conditions were necessary for this. How- ever, the clamour which always reigned in the main build- “God will not heed our my bile erage fara eh -— — gto TS EIS LSE ee ree: PE et ae WEE a 9 —— ee SUT TE Cee —" jaan i near Were IP STUY or ere re a wut Sie “SARYN DA NA KIECHKU” neni —— ily eyes rtrs . | ee prison is asleep. A light, easily roused slumber iE has gradually drawn its quieting mantle over the A) bodies stretched out on wooden beds or benches and covered with spotted blankets, or simply the ordinary grey cloaks of the prisoners. No noises of scraping bolts He and rattling locks are heard; only the loud tread of the guard on duty in the corridor breaks the unusual silence. At times the measured reports of his steps die down and his dimming outline disappears in the darkness, to emerge again a few moments later in the lighted end of the long corridor, behind whose grated and barred doors the un- happy inmates sleep or ponder how they may escape. For the nonce the oaths and curses invented by the pris- ! oners, the scoldings of the keepers and the continuous | i clankings of the irons have ceased. Cell No. 1, opposite my little window, is also silent, held in the dim thrall of a small lamp that gives forth a | cloud of odours but very little light. In the corner near the door there stands a big iron bucket, the parasha, the worst torture of the criminal prison. On the wooden benches along the walls are sleeping about one hundred of the most important members of the colony of con- demned, for these are the so-called “Ivans” or old, hard- ened habitual criminals, men who for years have been intimately acquainted with all the prisons of Russia, with 259Be ea iche te ke selrriaier artes tes iE we st — rou Ss ara Sy se eat nr oh eres TT sine ry iss ae Tee “J pei iH +H See = RHE Soe ee TT sah SEER HR Bas eet x 256 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON the stupefying cold of the Siberian winters, with the katorga or penal colony of enforced hard labour, with Zerentoui, Akatoui and Onor. Cell No. 1 had this night gone late to rest, for long alter midnight their card-playing continued in spite of the threatening calls of the guards. One among them, Basil Drujenin, did not sleep. He lay on his back with his hands under his head and stared out of his wide-open eyes at the circle of yellow light which the lamp threw on the dirty ceiling. He was pondering stubbornly over something, and at times his eyes brightened as some wave of hope swept through his dreams. Finally, as an idea struck him, he suddenly sat up and loosed the noisy spirits that seemed always to be hiding in his irons. From the benches around him came the mutterings of his dreaming mates, indistinct words, generally meaningless but sometimes charged with terrible coherency. Basil sat for a long time listening and waiting. Finally, before dawn, there travelled along the bricks of the wall an indistinct sound, that told it had come through wind- ing and circuitous ways. It was repeated a second time and Drujenin smiled. He knew and recognized the sig- nal of his friend, Elia Lapin, who was living out a pun- ishment in irons in a subterranean cell. Thrice Basil struck the wall with his own irons to apprise his friend that he was listening. Then he heard more distinctly the combination of raps so well known to every prisoner— one loud stroke, five low ones and again two heavy blows, which was the regular code form of Saryn da na kiechku. Drujenin smiled joyfully and, stretching himself across his bed, answered with one sharp knock on the wall. Again silence ruled, for the prisoner, after the last clank- ing of his irons as he turned on his side, seemed to have fallen asleep.“SARYN DA NA KIECHKU” 257 In the east the skies soon reddened, for a new day, a prison day, was once more beginning. The guard rang a bell, swung near the stairway, and shouted : “Take out the parashas! Quick!’ Up from the benches rose those among the men who had not lost all sense of obedience to commands or who, perhaps, were morally weaker in their resistance of other wills upon their own, and took out the awful iron buckets. At the same time activity began in the kitchen, where the prisoners on duty started rattling the copper and tin kettles, preparing water for tea or setting the balanda, or soup, to cook. Such a hubbub was set up by this rattling of the kettles, the chopping of the meat, the laughter, shouts and ever-present oaths, that no one could expect or hope for sleep. Throughout the prison the men rose, stretched and washed, accompanying it all with a ceaseless stream of monstrous oaths. No one muttered a prayer; no one made the sign of the Holy Cross. As Drujenin rose, he came to the middle of the room with his clanking irons and there stopped to attach them by a leather thong to his belt. He was a man of thirty years, short but strong and graceful; not what one would call good-looking but having bold, hazel eyes, which seemed never to wink and thus not only gave to his face a dreamy character but an impression of the watchful- ness of a wild animal. After a few moments the guard opened the door, so that the prisoners could go down to the kitchen for their tea and bread. Returning with the hot beverage and lumps of the prison black bread, the men ate and drank in silence, hid their cups as they finished and then split up into little groups. The greater part of them began playing cards, quarrelling and even fighting among them- selves over the game; others read newspapers or well- spelt pone alii tip — Bin ee as sh 5 viii ne lint erent ec wy # eres TE age ee ~- WHET LELY _ ep anokaes ph ila aera a eb ick ai NN ee sinks ee RE ET ee ae ae spunk i i ars eB ee a hn ok a ~— ———_— ea oFsrainenanieg Some tS sehr se amet eri a 2 re) ra DAREN pater cas Breese eR fii soap 258 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON thumbed books; while a few wrote letters to people who possibly no longer existed or who, perhaps, lived only in their imaginations. Generally these were love-letters, Three Georgians sat apart by themselves and in low voices exchanged short sentences, full of sadness and longing. “In the Caucasus it must be like a real paradise now,” said one of them. “Everything is in white and pink bloom. Plum and cherry trees make lovely dots all over the green hillside,” the second one added. “In the evening when the sun is setting, everything is silent, so silent. . . . The herds wind back to the aouls,” came from a third, as, with a sigh, he pressed his head between his hands. “Don’t sigh so, you folks from the Caucasus!” one of the other prisoners called over to them. ‘Without your sighs one dies from longing here. To the devil with you!” The Georgians only raised their heads, looking like birds of prey. In the farthest corner of the room a quarrel began over a game in which one of the players had cheated. During the inevitable struggle that followed, knives were bared, and soon the guards took away two wounded men to the hospital. But the affair was soon forgotten and only tranquillity seemed ever to have ruled in the place, as an old white-haired man and a boy, who could not have been over fourteen years of age, sat on a window sill, feeding the pigeons that lighted without fear upon their hands and shoulders. Under the depressing burden of a day, aimless but full of noise, which was everywhere perceptible, all of the“SARYN DA NA KIECHKU” 259 prisoners became more and more sad and silent. Only the old experienced Ivans did not lose their temper. These hardened old philosophers were always ready to give their lives for even a few days of liberty and they lived ever buoyed by the hope of this fleeting joy, which they knew they could gain only through their own strength, courage and inventive faculties. To attain this supreme aim the Ivans always had hidden away in some hole known only to themselves an acid to soften brick and mortar, pyroxylin for blowing out a wall, poison, a saw and a knife. Carelessly and easily they risked their lives and quite as readily took those of others, especially if the life in question was that of a ment (keeper) or a “retriever” (traitor). Drujenin, lost in thought and apparently oblivious to the life around him, paced up and down the room. In a little while every one turned out for a walk, so that the crowd filled the exercise enclosure in the yard, which was surrounded by the high picket fence that made a cage of it. The men began to run about, to race one another, to toss a ball they had made out of rags and to play at checkers or cards. Drujenin, as he walked about, ap- proached one of the older Ivans and exchanged a few words with him. Then he went off and stood in a corner of the cage, evidently waiting for someone. In a few moments Elia Lapin came out and entered the enclosure. He carried on his wrists and ankles the heaviest of irons, those used in punishment, while on his whitish-grey face he wore an expression of malignancy and fatigue, which was accentuated by the contrast of the threatening, sharp eyes that looked out from under heavy brows. He walked with feet far apart in a rolling gait, dragging his burdened ankles with a strain that alter- ed ~ a carta — — namic es ee em ee sear esa al i wT ‘ex. vo "4 AT Aa Tod i ia ae 2p i ij jupeesaveDe ae ae ae ene ee a ea bee Peete Mills aie eesti 2 sai muBeOe #3 a i Fe ah rs san se i: ey Set oe aru ts sea) ee hi ig 6 260 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON nately bent and straightened his great, strong back. Without speaking to any one else, he went straight to Drujenin and began to whisper: You have the ‘hair’ (saw) ?” navies: “That is good, for the bars in the wash-room window have got to be cut. You understand?” Drujenin gave a nod of his head and, leaving his com- panion, mixed with the other prisoners but all the time he was keeping his eye on the guard and, the moment he was sure the man was not watching, he sidled up to one of the palings in the fence, leaned lazily against it and began rubbing it with something. After a moment he felt a sharp scratch on his finger, rolled over closer to the fence to cover his movements and took from the dis- closed slit in the side of the bar a long thin hack-saw blade. Having hidden it inside his blouse, he turned away and began walking leisurely up and down, whistling unconcernedly as he went. Then, after a turn or two, he came up to the fence dividing the cage of the criminals w from the yard of the political prisoners and spoke to me in a low voice: “Comrade, if you hear anything to-night, do not be disturbed, and say nothing to anyone.” “Saryn da na kiechku?” We nodded in affirmation and turned away. Drujenin was one of those ordinary men of whom the Russian system often made criminals, He had been a simple peasant, following the occupation of a Siberian hunter. Once, when he was returning from one of his regular expeditions into the woods, he was arrested by the police and accused of having taken part in an attack upon a mail courier. Although there was no evidence against him except the bare fact that he was simply found“SARYN DA NA KIECHKU” 261 tramping along the road where the attack was made and was carrying his rifle, the examining magistrate kept him in prison for the whole period of the investigation. Af- ter a year of hopeless waiting without seeing the case come to final trial, Drujenin escaped and, during the pur- suit, wounded two soldiers, was recaptured and then in- carcerated on the charge of two crimes. When I first made Drujenin’s acquaintance, he had already spent five years in prison. From time to time despair overpowered him and, under the scourge of it, he attacked the guards like an infuriated beast, only to pay the inevitable penalty of a period in irons. Yet, in spite of these temporary fits of wild rage, the prison authorities were fond of Drujenin, for he was at other times polite and reserved. The Commandant of the Prison even went so far as to admit to me one day that he was sure the man was undergoing an unjust imprison- ment as the victim of a judicial error. Following a hot day, as noisy as usual, the twilight finally came to bring us the cool of evening, though this had to be offset by the smelling lamps in the rooms. After supper we suddenly heard a shrill whistle, pro- tracted and strong. “That is Lapin,” whispered one of the Ivans, as he winked knowingly at his companion. “We must be ready,” added a second one; and, going to the door, he shouted in the corridor: “Music and the theatre!” As though by military command, singing started in all the cells, followed by dances with great stamping of boots and all sorts of extraordinary noises in accompaniment. This was the ‘“‘music,’”’ and, when the guards sought to restore quiet among the prisoners, “‘the theatre” began, that is, rows, quarrels, requests for the prison starosta — edptuiies sictictaalallaati cS ws mien ee es ast eens See =reac ter ——oooOorr iS BLE) aK) eee ar 6, thie Bs BEG nr ~ THAR : “5 ee = oe < i geet S306: se bd ait cere cy ie 3 sa re Se — oe as ie be 1 2 ae a see Fh J i faa Po Cae an # ie eS oe Rs i 4 262 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON and for the Commandant of the Prison, who “persecutes the prisoners” and makes their lot unnecessarily hard by denying them the innocent pleasure of dancing and song. These rows and discussions kept the whole upper storey of the prison in a constant turmoil until ten o’clock. In the meantime Drujenin took no part in the disturb- ances, simply looking on with a disdainful smile at all this useless hubbub. When it had quieted down, he ap- proached the Commandant of the Prison and said meekly: “Sir Chief, please relieve me of my irons. See how they have chafed and wounded my wrists and ankles! I shall never again deserve punishment at your hands.” The Commandant, having remarked the conduct of Drujenin during the row and thinking by this bit of diplomacy to allay the excitement running through the whole prison, ordered him to the smithy to have his irons taken off. In a little while the happy man returned without his chains and with sparkling eyes that told of his relief. As two of the prisoners were about to go to the wash- room for the parasha, Drujenin said to one of them: “You remain here. Do you understand? I shall do it for you.” As he arrived with the second prisoner in the wash- room, he whispered something to the men who were al- ready there from the other cells, at which they all began washing the buckets with a great noise and such scuffling or horse-play among the receptacles that they kept up a continuous racket. During this time Drujenin cut the light bars over the wash-room window. When he had finished his task, he jumped up on the sill, and looked carefully around to see whether there was anyone about before he dropped to the ground. Just below the window there was an old, long-unused well, with which the mains“SARYN DA NA KIECHKUD” 263 of the heating system came together from conduits that led to the several buildings. The man who had helped Drujenin replaced the win- dow-bars in such a way that they would not be noticed except after close inspection, and, after a few moments, all the men returned with the parashas to their different rooms. As the roll-call of the prisoners always took place during the supper hour, the disappearance of Dru- jenin could only be discovered in the morning. The pre- caution was taken by his cell-mates to have a dummy, made of his clothes, lying on his boards covered with a blanket. Once Drujenin had alighted on the ground, he care- fully removed the rotten planking over the old well and let himself down, hanging on with his hands, until his feet searched out the opening of the conduit through which the mains passed. Then he carefully scrambled down and entered this narrow tunnel and crawled along it with his sides scraping the walls and his head knocking against the dirty covering. At intervals he saw faint streaks of light breaking into the conduit and proceeded much more cautiously where these showed, for he knew that this light was shining down through cracks in a floor and could not be certain whether it came from rooms occupied by the authorities or from a cell. At one of these places he struck his head against a small bit of wood that had been stuck between the boards and there he stopped, rapped carefully on the flooring and was re- warded by the sound of the slow, heavy steps of a man in irons and by a hoarse, hushed voice which whispered: “Fly! No one has yet noticed anything.” It was Lapin speaking, he who had found this conduit during his confinement in the subterranean cell and had excavated a branch tunnel in the direction of the wall, PMR TOTES E NM rot SE ee eS EOE oe) Tt Ee et otk i - et A ee 2 Pa wr erst gar y wel Fold EPR OE a PE nti — - ee ~ ——. SL OPI EW ES ae Pee eI et TIL hea ss F Ti a ana eae ate ai ais at a Se eT ee a Sa, pa MU SST ET OA EeStebbe he TEAL EGGERS HUE o a i a sic ts ofa aunt ee ET Te Spry Mee Ro ates ot a iy pesBreehas 3 264 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON working in the ground like a mole in order that someone from among his prison associates might escape from the death or madness that threatened him. He himself could not make use of this avenue of freedom because of his heavy irons, which, however, had not prevented him from doing all this burrowing work for some unknown mem- ber of the prison colony. It turned out happily that the candidate for escape was none other than his friend and old prison companion, Drujenin, or “Vaska,’”’ as he was generally known among the others. The criminal prisoner condemned to a long term of servitude dreams ever of the possibilities of an escape and is consequently always preparing something for such an eventuality. He secretly removes bricks from the walls, saws the boards in the floor, slowly and laboriously cuts through iron bars, gives anything asked for a saw, a knife or the short crowbar which is called by the pris- oners a ““Tommy’’ and is used for breaking locks and sometimes even achieves to the ownership of a shpayer or revolver. Such preparations for escape sometimes be- come a real mania in the older habitués, as their thoughts and hands are continuously working in this direction. No official knows the plan of the prison so well as the Ivans do. They are minutely acquainted with every pos- sible hiding hole, especially those that are underground, because from these it is easier to burrow the tunnels that will take them beyond the walls and to liberty. During my wanderings through different prisons I frequently saw in the possession of the prisoners aston- ishingly detailed plans of several “‘stone sacks,’ carrying the dimensions of the space separating the outer walls from the most advantageous places for making escapes, as well as remarks as to the type of earth one would have to deal with, hard or friable, sandy or stony, wet or dry.“SARYN DA NA KIECHKD” 205 After Drujenin stopped under Lapin’s cell and received from him the assurance that all was clear, he continued along the conduit in search of the lateral which Lapin had drifted in for him. His friend had evidently given him clear instructions, as he did not make the mistake of turning into any of the side branches but kept right on through the main artery, guiding himself by crawling along the largest pipes, which lay wrapped in asbestos and rags at the bottom of the tunnel. As he passed beneath my own cell, I heard a low scraping noise; but, since he did not attempt to speak to me, I gave him no signal. I must say that I warmly wished he might succeed and I mentally calculated how many more metres he had to go to reach the barrier which separated us all from liberty. I was excited, breathed hard and had hands that were cold from emotion. Drujenin continued to crawl. Soon he came to the smaller tunnel and advanced a few feet only before his head struck the foundation wall of the building. Here he carefully felt the bricks with his hands until he discov- ered the hole made by Lapin. From this aperture to the street ran a still smaller mole runway under the enclosure wall. This passage was so much narrower that the fugi- tive could only lie flat on the earth and wriggle along. He had to move very slowly, as air was scarce and each successive exertion weakened him a little. Just as his heart was pounding furiously and the arteries in his temple were throbbing, Drujenin arrived at an enlarged place, where he could kneel. He felt for the planks which Lapin had told him were placed there to keep the earth from caving and disclosing the outer mouth of the pas- sage. With better air there, he stopped and listened as in a trance. A dead silence reigned. ‘Assured that the time ee it, il CIT Os j . z pe MATES isin . aT RAR ees ® PTET Pa ae ae ee ee eee eh ET 8 Bi oe era ie bi Pt pet bi kt wie Thieves sin at ie neg 7 ls Bs RE os ESOT se Lit ppedas ees 2 ota: nding ian er ci niin aL 7, xSe Pear = Ay pete kee pe tee erer teeta —— ee : Seater aah spetereitrerdtzrel ireeet eth esta? bare ribdteidie sSpeceversiep criti ies 4 SEUERUEEERERS HE pes EPRERSS as ER Be cae chee Hea Speen Mana cae Rei nH Fay ar ee SSRN 266 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON was ripe, the escaping man carefully removed the boards and made a hole with his hand in the thin covering of earth that was all that now separated him from the outside world and everything it held in store for him. As he slowly pressed his head and shoulders out through the hole, he saw above him the night sky, unbounded by prison walls. With one final spring he was out and ready to make full use of the liberty he had gained. “Seize him! Seize him!” shouted one of the outside sentinels—and shrill whistles mingled with the sound of running soldiers. Before Drujenin had time to realize what had hap- pened and to draw his knife, he was thrown from behind, had handcuffs clapped on his wrists and was surrounded by a group of keepers and soldiers under the leadership of the Commandant of the Prison. They quickly took him for his hope-blasting return journey and were soon in the prison office, writing up the record of his escape preparatory to putting him back into his chains. When he re-entered Cell No. 1 pale as a ghost, with trembling lips and eyes full of pain, no one said a word to him; for they all understood, as though they were their own, the feelings of this man who, with only one step more to go to reach the coveted liberty, had been snatched back into the hated prison with dull, cold despair fastened upon his soul as firmly as the gyves on his body. Drujenin went straight to his bench and threw himself down upon it to the old dirge of his restored irons. For a long time he never moved, and only when he thought that every one else was asleep, did he press his head with his hands and put his face into his pillow to stifle the wails of hopeless suffering which were struggling for expression. The next day, when the whole room in significant and“SARYN DA NA KIECHKU" expectant silence waited for Drujenin to give them the details of the frustrated attempt, the depressed man pro- nounced only one short sentence: “Malaika is a retriever (traitor) !” The news that Malaika, the Tartar, a fellow-inmate of Cell No. 1, had divulged the planned escape to the au- thorities and that he was to be given as reward, first, the position of cook in the warden’s quarters and, later, his freedom, made the round of the prison with lightning speed. In the big room and in several of the smaller cells men gathered in groups and were earnestly discuss- ing something. Finally everything quieted down and Drujenin, in an indifferent voice as though he were re- citing some anecdote, told the story of his unsuccessful attempt. At the regular hour the prisoners went out for their walk in apparently the same manner as on any other day, yet the experienced eyes of the keepers detected a strong undercurrent of excitement running through the crowd. As the prisoners were crossing the yard on the way to the exercise pen, Malaika emerged from the warden’s kitchen to go to the ice-house. Ina second the men had surrounded him, were pushing him along in their midst to the cage and were joking with him good-naturedly. Though at first greatly frightened, Malaika began quiet- ing down when he discovered that none of the Ivans from Cell No. 1 were in the crowd; but this was only a = momentary calm, for he suddenly blanched white, as he discovered this group of old criminals coming out of the building. He was just on the point of crying out to attract the attention of one of the keepers, when a pris- oner threw a jacket over his head and successfully muffled him, while the others surrounded him and hid him from any outside observation. I BAL ME REE prtoghs Fete keel per. rere sae sipped 2 —_— WR OLE KITT ig i gis a TARRaR ARARAA UNO! Be nem ai) te = wantgarwe 5 ~e > saridisbsisck a " f oe gin ent Sia 268 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON After a moment the jacket was removed, and Malaika trembled, for Lapin stood before him and looked into his face with an expression that told volumes to the frightened man. “You are afraid,” said Lapin, “because you know what you did, you dog of a traitor, and what you have to expect!” He thought a moment and continued: “I could strike you under the heart and kill you, but I want to give you a chance for salvation. Listen! If you have time to reach the second wall, no one will touch VOuUsMi mot, 2.7 Lapin had not time to finish, as Malaika had already started pushing his way through the prisoners and was calling wildly for the keepers. Before Malaika had gone very far in the yard, a big prisoner, called ‘‘Shilo” or “the Awl,” threw himself on the Tartar, who, without stopping, flashed his knife to defend himself. But Shilo was too quick for him, as he stretched his great manacled arms above the traitor’s head and brought his irons down upon it with such force that the man dropped as though he had been struck by lightning. In a twinkling all the prison authorities were on the scene of the tragedy, the dead Malaika was removed to the hospital, the silent Shilo was put in a subterranean cell to await the advent of the examining magistrate, all the prisoners were driven back to their quarters and the doors of the cells throughout the whole building locked. It is always thus. The sentences pronounced by the prisoners never go unexecuted, though the prison will pardon anything except treason. Mironoff came to see me that same evening and, after a long silence, cautiously asked:“SARYN DA NA KIECHKU” 269 “Starosta, is not treason the most despicable thing on earth?” “Yes,” I answered briefly. | “You are right,” he whispered, and left my cell. But this was not the end of Saryn da na kiechku. Some days later, during the exercise, I saw Drujenin without his irons. His appearance struck me immedi- ately, for he was so pale that he seemed almost trans- parent, and his eyes shone as though an interior fire blazed out through them. “What is the matter?” I inquired of him, coming up to the fence around the pen. “T cannot live longer in this way,” he whispered in answer. “I amat the end of my endurance.” After this laconic and, to me, incomprehensible reply, he turned right away and began talking with Lapin. Suddenly the latter stopped abruptly, listened carefully to what his friend was saying and then evidently began explaining something to him, as I caught him surrepti- tiously pointing to a place in the outside wall. I was soon to have all this made clear to me. When the exercise hour was finished and the prisoners were on their way to the building, two men slipped out from the crowd—Lapin and Drujenin. At first no one paid any attention to them, and the guards began to call them only when they had reached the enclosure wall. Sud- denly Lapin bent over and leaned with his hands against the wall. Drujenin was on his back in a flash and was shot upward as his companion straightened to his full height. This allowed him to reach the coping with one hand, where he swung for an instant before he could secure a hold with his second and begin to scramble up. Only a second was needed to take him over and out- By a. a270 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON side the barrier, but that small measure of time was with- held from him by the Fate that was guiding his destinies. Two or three guards’ rifles cracked, the bullets spattered the bricks, Drujenin straightened out, shuddered for a short instant and then slipped quietly to the ground, where Lapin already lay prone with his powerful hands outstretched. The tragedies of these two men were ended for ever. They had flown from the prison this time and could never again be recaptured nor brought back within its grinding walls.CHAPTER XXVII PRINCES OF THE PRISON Or day I was sitting in the large common cell, teaching the difficult art of writing. One of the prisoners formed the intricate letters with especial care. His name was Simon Saloff; he was an old man with long, silvery locks and beard, which gave him the appear- ance of a patriarch from the Bible but which did not pre- vent him from being a firebrand and a recidivist. During the lesson I heard a signal in the corridor and, some moments later, I saw a group of people stopping before the grilled door of the cell. Among them I rec- ognized the Prosecutor, the Chief of Police and some other officials. As they entered the room, the Command- ant of the Prison ordered every one to his feet and, when we were all standing, whispered something to a grey- haired, grave-looking official with stripes on his sleeve indicating a high rank. This man turned to me and said: “T thank you for teaching the prisoners. It is a very commendable act on your part.” “T take it that it is no act of special merit but simply a duty which I perform in place of the Government, since it pays no attention to this side of the prison life,” I answered with a bow. The high official looked sharply at me and said, as though to no one in particular: 271re ee eer te eees rete ee eee i ee eee . = eae ae oT SAS Lib ds bea a UR aed beazh ea ttathitet ss echen WARE TLy ie eb sbah Seite ae pbebyR Si Tia pedi oe ee > es payer SoS ye sania a et eH Sena apa rant MYUSSING ine BUbaTOIER Saree Tee a > re Sere dersiceteet tks aN rer paprere Esty PABURA HERS Ea ieebatea} 7 —-— 272 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “There are still many things to be reformed within these walls!’ It turned out that he was Prince Shirinsky-Shikhma- toff, the Inspector-General of all the Russian prisons, who was at this time on a tour of inspection through the institutions of the Far East. He had the name of being a wise and liberal official, a reputation which his acts fre- quently justified. The Prince began asking the prisoners whether they had any complaints to make regarding their treatment. As was usually the case, no one responded, for the pris- oners almost never phrase complaints to these higher in- specting authorities but prefer to fight their own battles over their rights and privileges. When, however, the Prince asked if they had any petitions to submit to the tribunal, the whole room crowded around him and handed him all manner of requests, scribbled in untutored hands on dirty bits of paper. It is difficult to understand why they persist in doing this, for these petitions are never given any consideration; yet the ceremony of pre- senting them stubbornly persists and, in the jargon of the prisons, is called “wvolinka.” The secretary of the Prince collected all these documents which the prisoners thrust forward and carelessly shoved them into his dispatch case. The last to approach the Inspector-General was Saloff, the old patriarch. In a mysteriously impressive manner he recited to the Prince the story of his incarceration and made out a very logical case, showing himself to have been the victim of a judicial error. The words and the voice of the patriarch were fraught with such sincerity that Prince Shirinsky became so interested that he lis- tened attentively and finally came close to the old man, questioned him and began making notes on some paperPRINCES OF THE PRISON 273 in his wallet. As he spoke, Saloff so warmed to his sub- ject that his arms loosed themselves in excited and most appealing gestures. He wiped his streaming eyes and beat upon his breast. When the Prince had noted down the most important details of the case, he turned to the Prosecutor and said: “T desire personally to go through the records of the trial of this honourable old man.” “Certainly, Your Excellency,” the Prosecutor an- swered. “May the Almighty reward you a hundredfold,” ex- claimed the deeply moved Saloff, as he seized the hand of the Prince and tried to kiss it; “father, benefactor, pro- tector of the unfortunate, guardian of innocent suffer- ers! ...” The patriarch was sobbing loudly. With a little bow to all of us, Shirinsky went out with his escort. Not fifteen minutes later the Commandant of the Prison in great agitation made the round of all the cells, asking if the Prince’s wallet with all his money and documents had been found by anyone, but with no result. As the troubled and angered Prince crossed the prison yard in the direction of the big gate, from a sec- ond storey window someone threw the wallet down, so that it landed right in front of the departing Inspector- General. While he was stooping to pick it up, from somewhere came the cry of: “Chiu! Chiu!” which at once awakened the sleeping beast that lodged in the breast of every prisoner and brought from all sides violent repetitions of this call, by means of which the men voice their hate and disdain for the authorities. The prison regained its silence and calm only when the wicket gate closed behind the dignitary. I learned afterwards not only that it was the “honour- able old man” who had thrown down the empty wallet, a . ns we jeans cate natn a, 2 - Be 7 “? . ee rere AE ia oie Pees see ses a Tj . SORT MUA PA on ae ete i 5 ee we be Syheh poy ch fy Depa e neentltitlcs ti etaioe ay seb: ma evedranrés PROC NA ROR NG AY ine nek ere it SIDE eae ———— eight nt rat 7 =i 4 ee pa — Ba ee siie ual? TR ti SSN RAS ReMaG ATS Hass 274 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON which the Prince picked up without opening, but also that Shirinsky discovered, on arriving at his hotel, that, in addition to his money and his papers, his watch and chain and a diamond pin from his tie had likewise been left among the prisoners. Of course, none of the authorities in the prison had any knowledge as to who the thief ac- tually was. And it was quite as natural that no results should have attended the search that was made; for, when prisoners can manage to hide anything up to a stolen locomotive, it was no task at all for them to cache such small articles as money and jewellery. In a prison there are hundreds of hiding places between the bricks of the walls, which are as movable as the keys of a piano, and in planks slit with a saw and afterwards closed up with bread. In such a despicable and false manner did the “honour- able old man,” the Biblical patriarch Saloff, repay the really well-intentioned Inspector-General for his sympa- thetic attitude in the old man’s case. Some years later, when I was living in St. Petersburg, I quite fortuitously happened to glance at an article which stated that a Prince Shirinsky, who had formed the habit of borrow. ing money from the leading citizens of a little town with- out giving it back, had been arrested. The account con- tinued that the investigation which followed revealed the Prince as a usurper, that he had no right to the position he claimed. As I pondered over the article for a moment, wonder- ing why it had arrested my attention, I suddenly recalled the prison room and the striking figure of Saloff, beating his breast and kissing the hand of the grave and stately Prince. “Well, old prison bird, you must have flown and hid- den under the cover of the stolen documents!” And IPRINCES OF THE PRISON 275 saw, as though it were in actual life before me, the cyni- ral, careless face of my pupil, the patriarch, playing the role of Prince, after the limited tutoring he had received for it in our “prison academy.” In one of the gaols I met an old acquaintance, who turned up there in a group of Georgians. After they had been registered in the office and had come out into the yard for a walk, one of them approached me and laugh- ingly exclaimed: “Well, it is not nice to forget old friends. I am Prince Eristoff.” I had known of the family for a long time but had no distinct recollection of having met this member of it. “T am sorry, but I don’t remember you. I knew some Eristoffs in St. Petersburg. . . .” “This Eristoff,” he replied, tapping himself on the breast and laughing heartily, “was presented to you in another place.” He glanced at his companions, who smiled very broadly and all turned toward me. “T don’t remember,” I repeated. “Have you forgotten those djighits of the old coal- mine shaft by the Sungari whom you smoked out of their hole like badgers with a charge of pyroxylin?”’ Recalling very distinctly the “elves” whom I had treated rather gruffly after they fired on us, I replied with a laugh: “Ah yes, I remember you very well.” “We have all collected here,” remarked Eristoff, “I, Gogio, Navadze—and you? This is indeed a strange meeting.” “Ves, it is strange. But what brought you here? Surely some ‘misunderstanding,’ such as you told me about then.” cewinite LP MOC UES To AREA eee ru “ae ; a alacesniidniarera nei ah eel ch rp ieee esate Se reree si vlad opis eae en See tp isEDOE SL AES ue TIS STE EER x wis eimai sd eaeriucee exer eTi Khe Nok 3S ae ak ———————————————— ape TS Rts EOL UEa ona Su RAMRIA A 276 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “H—m,” muttered Eristoff. ‘They accuse us of hav- ing organized an attempt upon a cashier in Harbin.” “Against the one who was carrying a bag of money down to the river with a soldier as a guard and who was killed, and the bag thrown across a hedge, where it dis- appeared without a trace?” I hazarded. “Yes. You also know about this?” ~l saw the whole thing with my own eyes. I even remember the figure of the man who attacked the pair,” I replied, as I began to cast my eye over the tall, graceful form of Eristoff. He smiled, lowered his eyes and said: “Strange things occur in this world.” In spite of what had passed between us near the Sun- gari and of the part which Eristoff had played in the bank-cashier affair, I struck up a close friendship with these children of the Caucasus, who had in their natures all the strength and freshness of the mountains, the warmth of constant sunshine and untrammelled boldness —the characteristics of outdoor, liberty-loving men. They did not compliment me by remaining long to culti- vate and enjoy my society, for they flew away and ina manner that merits being told. Late one night a new prisoner was brought into the room where the Georgians had been placed with some of the Ivans, who had been spending half their lives in transfers from one prison to another. The new-comer was about twenty-five years old, and possessed a tall, lithe figure that indicated great strength, but he was silent and gave the impression of being very shy. The inmates of the room accorded him a far from amiable re- ception. “A pike (a man put in prison for the first time)!” they murmured. “They put him among us real pris- oners?”PRINCES OF THE PRISON 277 “We'll show him the stuff a real prisoner is made of,” whispered the horse thief, Rukla, an immense man, built as though he were carved from granite. All the inmates of the room arose and began to surround the pike, who sat modestly and unmoved at the end of his bench. Only the Georgians did not rise. Suddenly the youth raised his head, half closed his dark eyes and asked in a sneering, penetrating voice: “Whom do you want to fight? Me, Demetrius, the Hawk?” As he spoke, he stood up and straightened himself with pride. “Try it, but look well to what you are about,” he snapped at the crowd and, with extraordi- nary ease and agility, bent down and lifted a heavy bench, poised it over some of his hearers and threaten- ingly continued: “T shall kill you all because you did not recognize the Hawk, you green devils!” Then he laughed at his sub- dued attackers. “Fighting is forbidden,” came with an oath from a guard through the wicket. The Hawk looked at him for one short second and then hurled the bench at the door, which boomed and reverberated under the blow. In an instant the keeper’s whistle had brought soldiers to his side, and together they opened the door and ordered the Hawk to accom- pany them to a subterranean cell. He made no resistance and quitted the room with calm dignity, only stopping at the threshold to bow himself out with the parting words: “Good-bye! Such a leader as I cannot dwell with worms!” Leaving the room in profound silence, he passed down the corridor with his head in the air and with firm, sol- dier-like steps. The astonished prisoners remained silent for quite a moment, until finally Rukla muttered: pe rarest = eerie hs RL wick tales cas Sa ee ‘a lit Lk Baa eer es ees at SAAS SEY GEE AA eeane _ Dhue RS is oe He < ee a 4 ae ae @ x er iB p eee 24 a it ae pis BS rs 2 eee ee eee SSRIS TEES 278 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “Then it was the Hawk? He is quite young still.” Someone answered him: “For three years the people through all the Urals were as frightened by the name of the Hawk as they were by that of the devil. No one ever seemed able to catch him, and he turned up in several places over all Russia.” Then followed many legends about this prince of bandits. After some days of punishment in the subterranean cell, he was brought back to the same room with Eristoff and the other Georgians. On his return the prisoners met him with profound respect. “Ah, it is well,’’ he smiled; “this I understand.” For several days succeeding his reappearance I met and talked with this bandit leader and carefully studied him. Very polite in his speech, graceful and quiet in movement, he never showed feeling of any kind but always maintained a perfectly calm exterior. However, this was only an apparent calm, like that of a tiger in a cage. Have you ever observed a tiger in captivity? The magnificent beast of prey lies in stately repose with his powerful paws quietly resting in front of him and with his head poised as proud as a king, his bright, yellow eyes looking off into space without blinking and seeing neither the bars of his cage, the keeper nor the crowds of spectators staring in idle worship. When his pupils, looking like black rifts in the yellow beryls, happen to light on a man before him, one has the impression that he looks right through the human being and sees beyond him the vast range of the forest, to which he silently and deeply longs to return. The Hawk looked in this same way upon his compan- ions, the keepers and the prison. His soul, wild and un- tamed, longed for freedom. As he entered the crampingPRINCES OF THE PRISON 279 walls, what had such a one left behind? The dangerous adventures which his unleashed, sparkling and restless nature craved as its natural food? And perhaps he saw in the crystal ball of his dreams the garden of cherry- trees with her, the beloved of his young, warm heart, gay, brightly clad and with eyes filled with laughter and with love for him? Quietly the Hawk made a thorough survey of all his companions in the cell and finally, selecting the Georgians, went to them and whispered: “Do you want to fly?” “Indeed we do,” Eristoff answered for himself and his companions, “for the court will not show any fondness for us.” “Well, then listen to me.” They deliberated and discussed for a long time; then, after supper, the Hawk went to each one of the men in the room, looked him sharply in the eyes and repeated in every instance: “T am going to escape with the Georgians. We begin to work to-day. You must help and be silent.” This same night their active preparations were started. The Hawk found a place where someone had cut the boards in the floor and, leaving his clothes on the bench under his blanket, he crawled down through the hole. Soon the prisoners could make out the noise of a small, sharp trowel. The Hawk was digging steadily and only interrupted his work when he heard a low knock on the floor, which told him that the keeper was near the door of the cell. Before dawn the Hawk had the earth packed into two bags and hidden away underneath his board bed. Throughout all his efforts the Georgians assisted him. Naturally the most difficult part of the operation proved to be the transportation of the dirt out of thePuan eS a a re Steere ee weithi 53 Sat LI Lsbie tai mea ee SOG RA oe SiRTLI br rs bear orERee ASSIS ORR aN HS POSRHRMIO BARA " aa een os = Ty et ae ROD baronet Byes Fecke ee a 4 \ au | an ‘ ae ae | aoe, : aa . Bat eeeal se Bree! jets Seat aay ee ROE RE ree wear es 280 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON cell during the day. Some was put in the parasha, which two of the strongest prisoners carried away, pretending that it was very light. The rest of the earth was taken out in the pockets of the prisoners, when they went for their walk, and was cautiously strewn about and trampled down in the prison yard. Each night this burrowing work continued. The Hawk gradually drove his passage down in the direction and under the foundation of the wall, afterwards sloping up- ward again and making for a drainage ditch that ran down into the river. Day by day the digging increased in difficulty, owing to the fact that the air supply grew ever less and less. The men changed at short intervals and always returned from the tunnel in a state of ex- haustion. After the first few days of their work I could hardly recognize two of the Georgians, so sallow were their faces with pallid lips and sickly looking eyes. Their trembling hands also proved how hard and tiring the task was proving. When I asked Eristoff the reason for these symptoms which I observed in him, he took me into his confidence and told me of all that was going on, ask- ing me also, in case he should perish during the attempt, to send a letter for him. In the course of a few days the Georgians were so weakened that they could no longer work, and conse- quently the Hawk had to continue alone. The others could only help him to bring out the earth and hide it under the floor or under the beds. But the Hawk also finally came near to the end of his powers. One night he crawled back into the hole, taking with him the two bags tied to a rope, as though they were buckets on an endless chain, and continued along until he saw the elec- tric pocket lamp which he had left at the end of thePRINCES OF THE PRISON 281 tunnel. Lying flat on his face, the Hawk dug with his trowel the fine black earth and managed to fill the bag at his end of the double rope, gave the signal and soon had the other sack at his side ready to be filled. He worked thus for a long time, but his breathing became ever more and more laborious, and his trowel moved much more slowly in the humid earth; nor did he have sense enough to know that blood was trickling from his nose and mingling with the sweat from his forehead and face. Suddenly he had the impression that some one had dealt him a sharp blow on the head. He felt that he wanted to turn round and protect himself from a second, but something throttled him and he began to choke. A rattling sound came in his throat, the trowel slipped from his hand and he opened his eyes to see only the tunnel end, lighted by the electric lamp. Meanwhile the prisoners were whispering among themselves: “What a strong man this Hawk is! He works for such a long time without ever coming out.” The small bags of earth, emerging from the end of the tunnel under the floor, gave a rather frightening, mysterious impression of this man who dug there below and sent back these silent messengers of his incredible power. Finally Eristoff remarked that an abnormally long interval had elapsed since the Hawk had given the signal to drag out the bag. The rope was pulled but no answer came. “He has swooned from want of air,” said Eristoff. “We must get him out.” With the help of an additional rope attached to his feet, one of the Georgians crawled in and brought the Hawk out. As soon as he had been restored to consciousness and had rested a little, the intrepid miner returned once ert ri SAS ETA TEER SI ETT eT as eee ee canal seaahiae vapieenbbiinsuptinbenesih peigsT ih sass Phi ee paper abhctos eres E> . a ott be ab halstnebehal woe gn dig MA Oi BS nh nt et ee - mina! PRI Recs Hac SSE SI Sohettere alDHAEST ANSE Ong tos be AEDT PSS TEE DESG BEG god oiBhWahg EbcRs ga ee eT ee — v0 eee ee — ie Tes iis Sse sabenallandhanen rt anyayRad gart a - | 282 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON more to the tunnel, at whose end the little flashlight burned like a torch of liberty. The work of these human moles lasted for almost a month, until finally the tunnel joined the principal prison drain that ran into the ditch outside. JI remember so vividly being wakened on that memorable night by the noise of crashing benches, the cries and howls of mad- dened men, the shouts and whistles of the keepers and the pounding of the soldiers’ feet through the long corridors. Though it all seemed very real, the experienced ear could detect the artificial character of this hubbub, and I sur- mised that an escape was being staged. I was quite right, for this same night during the terrible row that was started by the Georgians, whose lead was usually fol- lowed by the whole prison, the Hawk, Eristoff and his companions went “‘flying’’ beyond the prison walls. This prince of the prison was right when he announced, on the day of his arrival, that he could not live with worms. We knew that the fugitives were not caught, because on the following day, during the exercise hour of the prisoners, a little keg of vodka was tossed over the wall into the prison yard, carrying on one side of it the single word “Caucasus,” and on the other the signature of the Hawk. Unfortunately the cask did not remain in the hands of the prisoners, as it was pounced upon by a guard and taken into the prison office. This was the “P. P. C.” card of the knightly Georgians under their titled Caucasian leader and of the fear- inspiring bandit chief, this “Prince of the Prison.”CHAPTER XXVIII LOVE IN IRONS VERYWHERE that men and women meet, be it in great and throbbing cities, on the solitary islands of a distant sea or even in those prison wards where night and day the clang of chains is heard—everywhere the little god with bow and quiver silently and persistently stalks his human quarry. He looses his shafts, regard- less of whether they are to be messengers of happiness and joy or are to carry torture and pain. As he courses the open stretches of the great wide world of humanity, so he fights his way through the jungle of the prison, the prison where men and women, penned apart by thick walls and iron bars, grope out a life full of despair and longing, never meeting face to face and only at rare intervals exchanging some distant words. But the prison possesses great inventive facul- ties and consequently always assists the little god of love to make his targets sure and clear. The gay little sportsman is not difficult to please. He has an eye for hearts only, and it is nothing to him if the owners happen not to be very good looking. He looses his arrow at his victim with unhesitating keenness, even though she may have a face besmeared with smallpox scars or freckles or set with eyes that are aslant and with a mouth of bad design. One evening, as I was writing in my cell, I suddenly 283 eee a 7 te EAST a a EH T. > eS ee i = Fae ra Se aa pan cali ince cat T} Peerynr FSP enV, saarRAAN NOR fy SAR ERATA 1. Ke ee re ~ anit + — 284 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON heard a noise in the yard, the evidently enthusiastic cries of the prisoners, women’s voices and, later in the evening and during the whole night, whistlings and telegraphic signals running through the walls. It seemed as though the whole prison had lost its head. Raps on the walls came from everywhere in such a confusion that I could not distinguish and read the separate signals, and I finally went to sleep to the accompaniment of this continual whistling and knocking. In the morning it all became clear to me. A large group of women had been brought in, all of them cul- prits condemned to long terms of imprisonment. They had been put on the ground floor directly under the cell of the Ivans, in which I had been wont to set up my moy- ing university, as this was the most populated room in the building. While I was watering some of the flowers in our gar- den, I watched a very unusual and impressive, though entirely unrehearsed, scene from life’s ever-moving drama. Some of the women prisoners sat in the win- dows and talked quite loudly with the men on the floor above them. ‘The stories were always serious and usually carried a note of sadness or despair running through them. They told about their lives and the causes of their coming to prison—and what varied causes they were! Betrayed love and jealousy; the brutalities of drunken husbands; harsh material conditions; everyday caprices; the fear of death from hunger for themselves and for their children; degeneracy; natural criminal propensities ; discontent with life or some quite distinct psychic devia- tions, which are tantamount to a terrible and incurable malady—all these were cited as causes that had started these women along the path of crime, which finally led into the prison yard. They spoke of all these things withLOVE IN IRONS voices as sad and sincere as though they were at confes- sion, some of them even weeping and wringing their hands, The whole unexpected scene was for me such a strange and moving picture that for a long time I could not regain my composure. Later, watching what went on, I saw that the Ivans began to send letters, packages of cigarettes, sugar, soap and other little gifts by means of bits of twine and string which they had pieced together. With the aid of these lines there also travelled up from the ground floor the answering missives and the women’s gifts, bits of look- ing-glass, ribbons, tobacco and sometimes even a bit of chocolate or a fruit lozenge. After dinner, when I went into Cell No. 1 and invited them all to be seated, as I was about to begin a lecture, one of the prisoners came up to me and said rather naively: “Starosta, to-day we have other things in mind and . . here!” pointing to his heart. “Women have come to the prison, and it is a happy day for us. In these awful bags of stone and brick, in these rooms cursed a thousand times, we live a life of depression without any morrow, without hope. When we hear the voices of these women, who have not yet had time to become such monsters as the prison has made of us, we feel as though a breath of fresh, pure air had come in from the outside world; we picture our families, whom we shall certainly never see again; and in thought we transport ourselves to other places, where our mothers, sisters, wives or our betrothed are waiting for us. Hope returns to us, the hope that cleans our souls, rotting here behind these bars.” He smiled bashfully and added in a whisper: “To-day we don’t want learning, Starosta!” I laughed and was just about to go out, when the eR i Cer SS —s 3 wr tou + We Mae ar eryo sere ee SiS rPie ? ih rhe aN AI e RSs ib Tha ea Pog eA TR TE TER RE pth hi hetssk it Was Rasa pase Gt AOR ORES eEN RN MODOC HOSE ee Oe en aE _—— ee ea PRS ETA nN IO ER apres S % } 2 Se re ae eee ee ease en Te eT eee . 7 ; a 8 Sa teers rah os bila pha sh teen bia TLEL ts os bpirattr)eleipeperestst tpt ere NG a LRH EGE : Sh sth wHiioiy 286 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON oldest prisoner in the cell, one Boitsoff, mail-coach rob- ber, came stumping along to me on his wooden leg. The man was seventy years old and carried on his face the marks of cursed Sakhalin—slit nostrils, which were al- most hidden by his thick, bristling moustache and a beard that grew far up his cheeks. His height was immense, and he possessed colossal strength, in spite of his age. “Sit down,” he muttered, “I want to talk to you.” After I sat down, Boitsoff was silent for a long time. Finally he pointed to the prisoners who were crowding near the window to talk with the women by means of ropes, which are called “telephones” in the language of the prison. “Do you understand this, Starosta?” he asked in a whisper. When I remained silent, he continued in a still lower voice: “They are grown up, some of them even old men, and yet they act like boys.” He stopped and began filling his pipe, then went on: “It is the prison that does this. Deprived of all of the joy of life, they seek it as a fish struggles back to the water, as a bird seeks the open sky and as a flower turns to the sun. Where is justice? Will such a form of pun- ishment cleanse and heal the soul? Humanity is com- mitting a great crime, an inexplicable one. We prisoners are human dust. Humanity, in its pursuit of personal happiness and riches, hurries along the great highway of life, rushing upon, trampling and grinding to dust those whom chance or a temporary weakness may have sent to their knees. Humanity, in this mad rush of life, has made us what we are, and man never understands that the time has come to stop hurrying and trampling upon the bodies of others, making new clouds of human dust. When this dust begins to reach the eyes and throats ofLOVE IN IRONS 287 men and to cover everything about them with a disgust- ing coating, they gather it up, put it into the stone bag, and, thinking that they have done all that is necessary for their peace, continue to grind out new dust, as they hurry with ever-increasing speed along the road of life. Whither are they going? To the precipice ahead—the day of revenge!’ The eyes of the old robber gleamed, his breast heaved and the words came from his mouth like stones hurled from a catapult. I listened carefully to the tirade of Boitsoff, because I realized that he was voicing the massed thoughts of the population of the Russian prisons. And I thought with terror then what it would mean, if all these men who held such views should one day come forth in a body from their prisons and take into their hands this weapon of revenge. Fate strangely willed that I should have to be witness to such a supposedly unimaginable event. It was in the days when Bolshevism opened the doors of the prisons and called upon the “human dust” to wreak this long- deferred revenge, at which the perverted mass, wildly intoxicated by its opportunity, made rivers of blood to flow and ravaged as a destroying storm, as a laughing, mocking hurricane, the whole great breadth of the Em- pire. In the meantime the life of the prison ran its expected course, reflecting the ordinary manifestations of the nor- mal existence in the world without. While the women were few, the number of men amounted to nearly five hundred, and each one of these wanted to hear the voice of a woman directed to him exclusively. Because of this, quarrels began, jealousy naturally breeding fights, in which not only strong arms and fists came into full play but knives as well. Though this state of affairs filled me Snes ‘i itil gt pote ah itn ip atta Sie RT I PMI it ita eI I EA TN er yey LTE Tigyem pb i races aid ols ak Ere ea REECE See a Oe ee ye Crs 3 Sip he ean Ose <= oy ag fi ok ble a a wa F TT ANA EE pee oe re Ds re Ses he pene ete gket thsmente ibimrite 7 ee SES en errs rea ; pi ane aS bo cy i bg AS Ta oe bay 2 Baliieiaienyens pias pape. seins te ie Soc aoe Reais AR dea te be oe AT / Pere eer ae reed $i 288 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON the prison hospital, the coming of the women had an- other and more desirable effect, that of cleaning up the atmosphere of the place, as the awful oaths and curses were no longer heard through all the day and the night as well. The men began speaking in low and well-con- trolled voices, they stopped singing their far from refined songs and gave up their equally questionable stories. Nor did the cleansing and ennobling influence stop here, for the men also began to spruce up their appearance in every way possible, so that one rarely met anyone unwashed, half-clad or with unkempt hair. The prison veritably looked regenerated. In this unusual atmosphere some love dramas were enacted before my very eyes. One rainy day, when I was sitting in my cell, I heard the following conversa- tion: “We have told each other everything, Katerina,” came in a sonorous, serious voice from the upper cell. “We know each other as well as if we had lived together for years,” “Tt is true, it is true, indeed,” came the answer in a woman’s voice. “You have a good heart, that under- stands the pain of others.” “Listen, Katerina, I was condemned for a term of three years, of which only two months remain.” “You are fortunate,” sighed Katerina; “I have still to sit here for two years and have a long road of suffering ahead of me.” “For us two years are nothing. I shall go out and be- gin to work at once, for I am a carpenter and am skilled at my trade. Now that I have come to know you, I shall not return to my former life with its attempt to get a great deal of money without regard for the consequences. I am a changed man and I want to work honestly.”LOVE IN IRONS 289 “You speak rightly and with courage, Rathi: ie woman answered in a low voice. Silence prevailed for a time, while both of them were evidently immersed in thought. I had, however, the feeling that the conversation was far from finished and that it needed only a word or two to decide the future that was trembling in the hearts of these two people. “Katerina,” finally came in the subdued voice of the man. “T am here, Paul.” “Tisten to what I have to say. Life crushed us and threw us into prison. We have suffered the great torture of crime, trial and punishment. It is possible and was very likely that we should have remained lost souls for our whole life, forced by the mark of the prison to be- come habitual criminals; but God ordained that we should meet, and now everything is changed. Now we can help each other, return to the life of freedom and live down the memory of our torture. Do you long for this as I dor” The woman did not answer for a long time and then only with a hesitating, hardly audible: “How?” “Be my wife, Katerina!’ the man answered in a low voice, full of evident emotion, solemn as though he were speaking in church. “Do you understand? When I leave the prison, I shall ask permission to marry you.” “But I shall only be free after two years,” the woman whispered despairingly. “That is nothing,” came back from the man in buoyant, joyous tones. “I shall wait and work, preparing our home for your coming. Will you say ‘yes’ ?” “T thank you, Paul. I thank you in the name of God,” the woman whispered—and in a moment tears were jy eptste sighed try edd. ee ea ts RT eA REMIT Lia séo9ee ais 5 a a FUTUR ey e2 ijt —_ — sip ett ed ok i ae Oe —— See TE Fe ss, ‘reieh rime cian ae eearesrecdiid PS re miinbameeeie seid ne LEDan Plat RAN RR see ert Sais RTA Gi + SAR SH oa hapa EES MaRS orale use eit uitaiees Z Serra eer ere es TepOT RH 290 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON mingled with her words. “Your heart is good; it is white. . . . I shall give my life for you. . . . I thought that I was to perish here; then you came and gave me your hand to help me back to hope, Paul. . . .” Someone shouted loudly: “The water is ready for making tea. Go to the kitchen!” Their conversation was interrupted, but two months later a ceremony took place in the prison chapel, when Paul Rozanoff, having finished his term, was married to Katerina Gulaieff. There was no wedding breakfast, and after the ceremony the husband went away, and the iron doors slammed behind him, while the wife returned to her prison cell, where she remained, however, quiet, thoughtful and happy. Every Sunday, Paul came to visit her, bringing food and gifts and, with a happy light in his eyes, showing her his hard, calloused hands. “These two people will not perish,” I thought with joy and satisfaction. ‘The prison will not destroy them but will remain in their lives only as a nightmare of the long ago.” Perhaps this pair, so curiously met and drawn together by suffering, were afterwards very happy and freed by their trials from the lesser difficulties of life. I want to believe that it was so. When the prisoners had become well acquainted through the medium of the telegraph and “the tele- phone,” the second stage of the prison love-stories was ushered in—they wanted to see one another face to face. In this crisis the inventive faculties of the old prisoners came to their aid. I soon discovered that they had all secured from somewhere looking-glasses. The men above focused broken bits of this wonder glass upon the mirrors which the women held in their hands stretchedLOVE IN IRONS 291 out through the bars below, and the inspections pro- ceeded. Smiles, flirtations and real coquetry ensued ; kisses were even wafted through the air, accompan- ied by laughs and sighs, as the little god flew back and forth from cell to cell and made most heartless slaughter. From my own observations and from the accounts of prisoners I know that many very happy and lasting mar- riages have resulted from the romances of the prison and have survived the severe trials of the “free life,’ where men struggle for existence in such selfish blindness that they pay little attention to the weaker ones who fall in the fight and try then to drag themselves up again to follow with the rest. However, the prison love-stories did not always have such pleasant endings. I remember one case that was very interesting from several standpoints. Once in the summer a woman was led into the prison, who was re- ported to have been brought there through a family drama. She had killed her husband and had given her- self up to the judge. During the investigation of her case she was kept in a separate cell by herself. Of a rich merchant family, she was a beautiful woman, tall and gracious, with a mass of soft, fair hair crowning a sweet but very sad face. As she always looked straight ahead out of a pair of dark-blue, widely opened eyes with an expression of astonishment, I thought, when I saw her for the first time, that she was not entirely sane; and I am even now not sure but that this may have been the case. Owing to the appeal in her personality, and also to the fact that someone paid the Commandant of the Prison well for the privilege, she was allowed to walk all day long in the exercise pen; and often I watched her, as she paced back and forth from one corner to the other tt Tt y , . i ’ Des Fa] li i lal r eee as ee + we = bE MP ediliad: opi clad wpe wit pesana on eee Re eer rt ot ace ine SpOS esate aguante bei rest I saat Se a AARSA EN si iearuhins a uuu an iaiausiat —— se Fee aS TPT PTT ITE Ee Te Se lk mE We ete fe Coates hele Baa ee 292 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON wrapt in thought and smiling sadly at what was evidently passing time and again through her mind. The prisoners began to question her and tried to make her acquaintance, but she gazed with terror upon the barred windows and the caged beings behind them and never spoke. “A proud woman,” the prisoners decided and paid her no more attention. One day, as she was taking her walk as usual, the Com- mandant of the Prison approached and talked with her for a long time. The woman, after having been so long without an opportunity to speak with people of her kind, was evidently pleased and began talking vivaciously, once even laughing sincerely and loudly. This was the un- doing of her. The prisoners looked out through the bars with flashing eyes upon the apparently lighthearted pair and, when the Commandant took his leave of her, they loosed a storm of curses and awful oaths at the woman. Thoroughly frightened, she left the pen and ran to her cell. The next day during the exercise hour, when the men were walking in their enclosure, the unknown woman came out into the cage for the women and, approaching the fence on the side toward them, proudly drew herself up and asked of the prisoners in a sad but musical voice: “Why did you wrong me so yesterday? Why, pray?” At first the embarrassed prisoners remained silent, but suddenly one of the Georgians, Mikeladze, ran over to the fence and upbraided the woman in anger: “You are proud toward us, but toward this execu- tioner, the Commandant, no!” With these words he hurled a stone at her and struck her in the breast. The woman swayed and put her hand to her heart. The political prisoners ran to her aid,LOVE IN IRONS 293 while the criminal prisoners at once retreated from their fence. Revenge had been taken, and nobody seemingly paid any attention to the victim—with one marked ex- ception. He was a new inmate of the prison, a terrible one, as terrifying as a bird of prey. He was even like a bird of prey because of his eyes, his sharp features and his movements, filled with a dominating sense of power. He was called “the Eagle’ and had been the leader of a gang of robbers terrorizing the Amur. He wore irons on his hands and feet and expected to be condemned to death, but the tribunal was slow in reaching its decision, owing to the fact that it was having investigations made in several towns through which his bloody trail had passed. The Eagle was confined in a separate cell, where for whole hours at a time he stood holding the bars and looking out through them at the beautiful woman, as she walked in the yard. The same day he met the Georgian, who had thrown the stone at the woman, in the corridor of the second floor and hurled the man down a flight of stairs with such emphasis that the Georgian had some broken ribs to count when he arrived at the bottom. “That from the Eagle, because of your treatment of a lady,” the man in irons shouted after the fallen Geor- gian and calmly turned away to go to the kitchen to get water for his tea. The attack on the good-looking woman excited the women prisoners, who had also taken umbrage at the behaviour of the new arrival. Smeers, petty vexations and nagging began, while some of the old timers even attacked her and injured her rather seriously. Then the authorities moved her to a separate cell on the second floor, for some days after which she was never seen, gO- Reet tpivestes ‘ alee Ee tO Tas tates oot AR erie one So aa ee ieee ea = Ce" gt ‘ree nF Ye bk Sa EU —~ 5m Me SEE STR Ar UES PO EET Ter ere ela cor ase Sa a eee bas sis Sivibies Pe es pen pinta. age antisite wt Thre : pices ded ii wre esd ER eee al es= stirs pe he esis ALTE be We PLE ce ae ee aaee bed ba bd eit ittnbte tr eta % AY f RGGI GMBH EESROES ats othe raat aes ee ett ent pe eT Suocitaecttn sete neces an , eee a spaniel CMAN) SUMO Ts hia PHISH GERAS: 204 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON ing neither for walks nor to the kitchen for water. In vain the Eagle watched for her through the bars of his window ; in vain also the prison awaited her appearance, wishing with its cry of “Chiu! Chiu!’ to manifest its hate and disdain for the person who enjoyed the special favour of the authorities. The sad woman seemed to have disappeared, although it was known to all that she was still somewhere in the prison. Then there came a night of storm. Lightning con- stantly rent the black mantle of clouds that covered the sky; thunder shook the prison buildings and emphasized their gloom; terror seemed to have shackled nature; a fearful expectancy filled the souls of the prisoners. The Eagle gazed up at the black sky, watching the lightning that shredded it, and turned away to pace up and down his cell. Without realizing it, he tramped ever quicker and quicker, like a wild beast in its cage. Sud- denly he stopped and looked out of the side window in his corner cell, which was half boarded up. He prac- tically never glanced out through this, as it gave on a narrow alleyway separating it from the next building only ten feet away, in which the openings were also cov- ered with boards. To his surprise he noticed that the window directly opposite had lost its wonted covering and was now hung with a white curtain or a sheet, through which the light shone from someone’s cell. The Eagle stood and watched intently, as the shadow of a person moving about with his hands on his head was thrown on the screen. Suddenly the person came nearer to the window, and the Eagle realized that it was a woman. He climbed up on his bench, so that he could press his face against the pane. When he found the boards bothered him, he seized them in his powerful hands and pulled them away from the rusty nails thatLOVE IN IRONS 205 held them. As he once more drew close to the pane and looked across to the lighted window, he saw the woman slowly removing the pins from her hair, which fell down over her shoulders and breast like a soft mantle. Invol- untarily the Eagle gave an exclamation of surprise and joy, as he realized that it must be the woman who had been maltreated by the prisoners. With a rattle of his irons the prisoner opened his win- dow and sat for a long time watching the lighted frame in the opposite wall, although the shadow of the woman had long since disappeared. After waiting for a sufficient interval to assure himself that the woman was already in bed, he began to sing. It was a wild, monotone chant, like the drive of gusts of rain upon the autumn leaves. He sang about the mighty river, the swift boats of the robbers, about bloody fights, pursuits and escapes; then, with his measured tones swung into a wail, he sang of the prison life; and, after this, louder and more sonor- ously, he sang of dreams that remain dreams, of love that is already dead. Something at once elemental and beautiful lay in this song of the robber. It was as though the soul of this man were singing, as though a powerful wave mounted to his breast and from there ran out to surge against the prison wall. Suddenly he stopped singing and began to whistle. From the great chest, deepened by the life of the forest and the river, came forth a low, trembling sound, filled with a sad dreaminess. Gradually the tones augmented in volume and strength, changing to a melody passion- ate, wild and warm. As I listened to this whistling, I understood the voice of the nightingale in spring, when it sees and hears nothing in its complete obsession by song. It was love, longing for the unknown, beloved woman; it was a request, powerful and masterful. 3 igen: SGT neerte Pra eR SE SE LESTE ESI ede ee Sey et eee ote ee ors Od cece me a tenes tac Nd SS A aE rr . = ee terres ie aie ee emit 7 a eoemanioant a - ore rer FEU r pita pkiektea abot oes otk as ies anes eee o scat ee wixd wpihs eels: 5 fu pein a ris wi sagesFORMAN REN are ee ee ee Aca rakes sein mFS? nl tity SARA MTEIeA Se tnlivers fee “3 Sa ce hal es ie oars antic ea 296 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON The woman in the opposite cell felt it also, for the dominating will of the robber lured her to’the window. She pushed back the curtain a little and saw his face, full of love, admiration and prayer. The whistling ceased. The Eagle stretched his man- acled hands out toward the woman and whispered: “I cannot live without seeing you. I cannot!” The woman remained silent, and he continued to whisper: “Such a man as I can also love, perhaps, even more deeply and warmly than those of the free life!” plmam! Sad 4 9.) .77 “What is it that troubles you? Ease your soul, for I shall understand everything, because I myself have passed through the fire of torture and I love,” came back from the Eagle in unmistakable syllables of warmth and enthusiasm. The woman, perhaps for the first and last time, told the story of her life and finished with a sigh. “Just one day of freedom to see my little daughter, and afterwards even death would be endurable.” The Eagle thought profoundly and then said to her: “Why death? I shall arrange an escape for you, and for this remember the Eagle sometimes and say a prayer for him.” “An escape for me?” she queried, unable to believe her ears. “Yes,” said the Eagle. “Demand that they take you on Saturday to see the magistrate. Such is the law, and they cannot refuse you. The rest will be done for you by others.” “I will never forget you, never, if you do this for me. God will hear the prayers of my innocent child.”LOVE IN IRONS 207 Just here the keeper, on his rounds to see that every- thing was in order, interrupted the talk. Throughout the next two days the Eagle whistled a great deal, frequently putting his fingers in his mouth and giving long, sharp blasts, which were nothing more than signals in the game he was arranging; for, during the exercise hour on the second afternoon, an invisible hand threw a stone over the prison wall, carrying the short but significant message: “It is all arranged.” Saturday evening the keeper entered the woman’s cell and told her that he had come to take her to see the magistrate in accordance with her request. She did not return to prison. The restlessness and suppressed excite- ment which ruled throughout the night in the prison office gave clear indication that something unusual had occurred. Some days later, I learned from the Com- mandant that robbers had attacked the keeper who was escorting the woman, taken his arms from him, gagged him and, after having tightly roped him, rolled him under a pile of planks, where he was not discovered until the following day. The woman under escort had disap- peared and, up to that date, had not yet been found. The investigation of the affair revealed the fact that she had been at home, taken her little girl and fled. For a fortnight after the Eagle looked pensive but at the same time happy and proud. The resourceful leader evidently had trusty members of his gang outside the walls, who could be depended upon to carry out his will. He was soon tried and, though he expected a death sentence, he felt that the sad, large-eyed woman and her little daughter had evidently prayed for him, inasmuch as the tribunal unexpectedly found extenuating circum- stances and sentenced him to only four years of close confinement. Abpea sear faa 98 ed ARH PAPI ya Rin Fes spe sys das coe Ue ores. ntrvtg rg rap et pio | eriRi Stern airs Si AeA coat eptaectee Pe ee ea a aa ORT ey ge ee aa ae ale PeLaeripiRH mS ENS as cs lea enrcil en - +s] ARE Sig wip ins Bhs LTP ae ET ana hs ibey gv ah Ly ries pe ole aaa ie se Bip RET - ME sea at PEER: a Has 5 adhe SRE sta pete gel nl eT ee 6 a, “ You are the victims of our struggle for the right, For the liberty, the glory and the honour of the nation. Weep not then, brothers, who have led us in the fight, In this hour of eternal and most cruel separation.See ar aS ee ra err a ee aaa re ~~ a sett esaneSLFLiR ata oo eelatie oa Roraibeadssisaaeeae ss aaa Tagged HATES BEDE Re DRED BRIG UD NEARER DE ts Teis18 nse PeNIA TOE isa . Peer eee oD: SHAPES AT Dee itis au ee ma sh ASA ENT 3 Rear ere ARAL AA au Siar Ee? ay 2 + ne ere ayo atc oo aa ‘RRMA Es Hy ‘a 338 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON A. crowd of friends awaited me in front of the prison entrance and soon changed my mood with their greetings and congratulations. One of the men presented me with a beautiful travelling case and in it an address, citing my services during the Revolution and carrying the signa- tures of some six thousand persons of all grades of so- ciety in the population of the Far East. But life’s drama will always have its antithesis—and one came now to give me a most uncomfortable moment, when a police officer stepped up and handed me a docu- ment from the Prosecutor, informing me that I had just three days’ time in which to liquidate my affairs and leave the territory of the Far East. Within the given time I was already aboard the train and on my way to St. Petersburg. Once more I was alone, as I was surrounded by those who knew nothing of my life and with whom I felt little inclination to con- verse about these matters which were filling my soul. I could not understand how they could laugh so carelessly, jest and busy themselves with such trivial matters as they did. I felt that I had come up out of another world and that this darker cosmos had left an ineradicable trace in my soul. Before my eyes passed the faces of Wierzbicki, Mironoff, the Eagle, Lapin, Barabash and my comrades in the political section. Like a moving picture there glided across the screen of memory a long film of presen- tations of the bloody, fatally dramatic or touching events of my prison life, each as clear as a tear—the prisoners in movement, in action, with burning or brimming eyes; the disgusting parashas; soldiers on guard; the grey walls of my cell and the barred windows; the keepers pacing the corridors and gazing in through the wickets in the doors. I even heard distinct sounds of life, awakeningreer etree ei atte OUT OF THE STONE SACK 339 strong reminiscences—the rattle of cut bars; the clinking of chains; the soft muffled sound of the earth being dug sn the tunnel; dull cries of pain, of hate or of supplica- tion; the echoes of fights and of shots. When, astonished and frightened with the reality of it all, I came back to myself and looked around, I realized that the panorama of the open country was passing before my car window and that out of the rumble of wheels and the booming of the speeding train my memory had, without will of mine, made these other sounds and pic- tures, heard and seen so many times during that life in the desert of human dust which was dominating all my conscious and subconscious moods. I began to think again about those who remained within the sack and about those who had passed before my eyes during these twenty lost months. What had they left in my memory, the memory of a normal, trained man who sought to understand everything, to see the least ray of light in the souls of these men, every throb of feeling that likened them to those who had never heard a prison door clang behind them and the long-drawn cries of the guards, as they shouted their ‘“Take care, take Carel During my journey across the continent I thought often and much about the Russians. Now I had seen them not only in the whirlpool of life in great cities, at liberty, where many surrounding and moulding circum- stances compelled them to be like the men of other na- tions; but also I had looked upon their naked souls with- out artificial coverings. I had seen them in torture and in suffering, without mask or decorations which hide characteristics so intimately close to them, so innate as to be impossible of perception in the ordinary contacts of everyday life.ree tae SS ae eee So ara THURS eases Ratha ay en wee Bisnilbely fin TERS fepeyerecen rt ee Dini hg i Boe aot es ee ns ABRARDE RHE Sane ene ae aaah wauanenspe’ £ i Bi ie | 2 3 E 340 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON I feel that the Russian is the most tragic type in the world. He is born with his terrible malady, a melancholy which, though at times unsensed, always poisons and weakens his soul. From the very moment of his birth he seems to feel the heavy burden of the decrees of Fate. The Russian psychology reveals itself clearly in three of their proverbs and expressions. One of these very old Russian proverb runs: “Never say that you will not be a beggar nor a crim- inal convict.” A real Russian, when asked how life goes with him, will never answer “Good” or “Bad,” but only “Nichevo,” which translates literally as “Nothing” but really conveys the meaning of “Oh, just middling” or “Nothing out of the ordinary worth mentioning.” It signifies that his life is neither good nor bad and conveys the idea that all goes well with him. If he acknowledged that it was well, his overpowering superstition would make him fear some form of retributory punishment on the morrow: whereas, if he stated that it was bad, he would be acknowledging his suffering and thus be fastening this state upon himself. If it is just “Nichevo,”’ he experi- ences no feeling of suffering nor of fear. For this he is thankful to God, to whom he always turns in his short and simple prayers, not as a son to his Father or as a servant to his Master, but as a slave to an omnipotent tyrant. And what is better than “Nichevo” for a slave who has no hope of liberty, neither at any time nor at any price, but fears only some new oppression? When he feels no fear, when it is absent, then all is “Nichevo,” and this is happiness. During these ruminations in the train I recalled againOUT OF THE STONE SACK 341 the philosophy of a convict which l referred to once be- fore. “Never despair, because to-morrow is always better than to-day. If to-day life is grim and hard to endure, then the severer trials of the morrow will not be felt so acutely, as one has already become accustomed to suf- fering. And when bad days shall last for a long time, your whole being will finally yearn for death, so that what is usually looked upon as the most terrible end of everything will come to be, instead of the worst that can happen to you, something to be desired. Also, when a bad day is followed by a little improvement in the mor- row, then you will be quite happy with the change for the better. To-morrow is always better than to-day !” Of course, to men of action and of a fighting spirit this is a slave psychology, the blind guiding power of a slave advancing along the road of life without a will and without ambition, entirely dominated by this force of Fate. For the ordinary Russian, in the grinding con- ditions of his existence under the governmental systems he has known, this slave psychology is, however para- doxical it may seem in this context, really a saving code of life. The third national expression referred to is that fre- quently used word “Avos,’ which is so difficult to trans- late. “Will you have time to get your hay into the barn before the rain?” you ask a Russian peasant. “Avos,” he will answer and will mean something akin to “Perhaps.” But this nearest English equivalent indi- cates, after all, the existence of some real reasons which may exert a good or bad influence upon the work in hand. When one says “Perhaps,” the mind takes into considera- tion all the possibilites, both material and psychological ; yess: eipieele or iste sept Dus kOr bi Sky ask ti epee enoe ss tt eka REAR ERR TRS SMI OG or ~ MERREAE Ha RBHRE TRESSBria Tee 18 ae HORSE ted eee ee sipatne Ie torekuh ire AIESo ae ebotbpaze SG is i608 eS - ah —— ee sabe Db wher sere eee ttt ih aia bie PEGS sara orp ters SRR ANAL a [ i a i re | reaiiat — phigh bbarthe nea 342 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON but Avos carries a significance of something fatal, full of a profound and almost terrible mystery, something like Karma or personified avenging Fate. Avos serves as a sort of incantation before the evil spirits, a formula expressing the complete dependence of man upon the will of unknown and hostile powers. It is perhaps possible that the changeableness and in- decision in the Russian attitude toward life are traceable to these traditional and all-permeating national formulas. Why should they make efforts of mind or body in the nght for an ideal, when Fate will sooner or later do exactly what has been ordained and cannot be changed by human influence? Besides possessing the peculiarities of a special and abnormal psychology, social and personal, the tragic Rus- sian is a man very easily affected by external influences. I met this type in all the criminal Ivans as well as in all the lesser and more accidental inhabitants of the prisons. His dreamy soul is sometimes uplifted, and then it can be beautiful, but none the less terrible withal. A word pronounced at the right moment can flood it with an emotion as quiet and peaceful as the calm of an autumn evening, or fire it with a burning flame that will touch with crimson everything around. The soul of the Russian is too little known. Through centuries this soul has yearned for expression and for understanding, for an understanding that was not given it by the Varangians, those first rulers of ancient Russia who came down from the north, nor by the Tartars, who for three hundred years held their foot upon the neck of the Muscovites. Nor was this understanding given it by the Tsars of semi-foreign extraction; neither by the Rus- sian cultured classes, which were foreign and often even hostile to the real nation ever living in the clouds ofOUT OF THE STONE SACK 343 old times, customs, faith and ideals. The Soviet leaders also have not given this understanding, they who woke and duped the Russian soul with words pointing to lib- erty, only to shackle Russia even the more strongly with the chains of illegality and to deprive the nation of its last glimpse of hope, its faith in God, and to push it over the brink into the pit of hellish torture, the story of which is the most tragic page in the annals of human- ity down through all the long centuries of recorded his- tory. Taken under the fostering care of wisdom and hon- esty, the Russian soul could certainly produce treasures of sacrifice and idealism; but, left to itself, it tends to turn criminal, its crimes resulting from its despair and the indescribable longing after something which it does not know itself and cannot visualize. This fact was very graphically demonstrated by the Ivans of the prison, in whom I saw fellow-men led and dominated by those two evil guides, suffering and despair. Throughout the whole of my homeward journey across the wide continents of Asia and Europe I spent practi- cally all my hours in such ruminations and especially in assembling and marshalling the more dramatic events of my prison life, with the purpose of founding upon them a romance with which I hoped to reach the hearts of thinking Russians and through them win for the mass of prisoners still left in the stone bags some amelioration of their lot. But, although I planned and resolved to execute this work immediately upon my arrival in St. Petersburg, it was really three years before I could bat- ter down the continuing persecutions of the Government and gain for myself stable enough conditions to give me the necessary leisure and mental freedom to complete the work. wise ETE 4% ’ MAS % Fae cae et OOOH Eth aa ta SAAS : ey oe ee Pe ore ae EQ e mPa mIE tal, rey 2 x ary - = ere = pete 1 ee Sah pares yi ais WSS AD Oe pe hess ese eee eae ee ig SS 3 RES mena x < Be aie 2 So aed = LETT iain RE Hu z aE Th SR achat ae x ERad ace. } es ss By site re bctiniace ti bs pubatohened br bdlL ns oe eneseae STS repress Miesst > eo we ¥ aaeer =e 7 pee NH HE aaG2 ue HetAry Reeth bee 28 EN esti Crh Seeee atts Sha eects oe MAUGHAN TARRY ast aR ———— - HSRERIGRRER IED ipa SWiay ae Te pa ahr i Gates est ti aaa Teal -eirieeae ria ; 344 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON However, I have rushed ahead now to speak about ex- periences which came to me three years after my return to the capital of the Tsars, who had punished me and my forbears before me, because we would not accept and carry their foreign yoke in silence. These three years before the appearance of my romance on the prison life were crowded with many trying events and struggles, to some of which I would refer for a moment to round out the story of this period of my life. On approaching the capital, I looked forward to find- ing many of the acquaintances and close friends whom I had made during my university life in the city, and espe- cially to seeing my mother again; but I learned immedi- ately after my arrival that she was away in the Urals with my sister and was seriously ill and weak. As the two years of revolution and prison life, during which I had paid continuously for food that was brought in to me, had nearly exhausted the money I had previ- ously saved, there was nothing for me at the outset but to look about sharply for some means of earning my live- lihood. I took up my abode with my old teacher and friend, Professor Stanislaw Zaleski, who gave me a most hearty and cordial welcome. I soon learned that the po- sition of assistant professor of technical chemistry in the Institute for Architectural Engineers was vacant and that the post was to be filled by competitive examination. Out of the eleven candidates who presented themselves, the Institute, basing their decision upon the scientific works offered by us competitors, selected two, of whom I was one. After this I had only to deliver three lectures before the selecting board should make their decision. Follow- ing these lectures a finding in my favour was brought in and a report sent by the Institute to the Minister ofSeem area caai OUT OF THE STONE SACK 345 Public Instruction. Here the first sample of what I had to expect from officialdom greeted me and shook my spirit; for, knowing my record, he refused his confirma- tion and thus blocked my appointment. Again I set about searching for work. I tried every- where but was always informed that, however glad they might be to have me, the fact that I had been a political prisoner made it impossible. In the meantime my money was dwindling, so that I very distinctly saw the poorly covered bottom of my little sack. The efforts and recom- mendations of Professor Zaleski and of the Board of the High Polytechnic Institute in Tomsk, where I had begun my career as a professor in science, proved of no avail. Finally I gave up trying to secure work along lines of scientific research and teaching and went into an aniline dye factory as simply a chief chemist. Tremendously relieved in mind, I began to work, but my enthusiasm led me into a great tactical error. Observing that the chemical processes in use in the factory were in part faulty, I proposed to the owner certain changes and im- provements, Though he was very much pleased and ex- pressed his approval in an immediate increase of my sal- ary, the matter brought me into a little more prominence with the workmen and led to my identification by one of the men, who was acting as a spy for the political police. After he reported to them that there was a sus- picious foreman in the factory who knew too much, the officials investigated and some days later ordered my expulsion from the place. It became evident that my punishment was not ended with the release from prison. Again I was out of work and again I tramped the whole city in search of a position, but all in vain. Fortunately Professor Zaleski was con- tinuing his efforts for me and learned that a factory for Si * Sonn ad BOE Lg ru te oy st= SHOR be oh Bath es BR eee RASH: < ee me ee Bh cape zi as 346 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON asphalt and roof-coverings in Kieff was looking for a chemist who could not only direct the technical opera- tions but could also work out some inventions, which were needed in their processes. As I had not sufficient money to make the necessary journey to Kieff, I finally decided to part with my arms after all the years of companionship and service, and with the proceeds from their sale started off to the south. At the very outset the owner of the factory made a bad impression on me and really displeased me; but, as I had to have work, I disregarded his face, signed an agree- ment and started in. My first problem was to find some combination of asphalt and coal tar that would be fire- proof and as elastic as rubber and that would conse- quently make a good medium with which to impregnate the roofing paper and insulating material for electric Wiring conduits and the like. I worked as hard as I could for a month and finally succeeded in developing the needed combination, which I called “Aflamite,’ as it was fire-proof. I remember returning that night to my quarters contented and happy over the thought that I was to receive a bonus of five thousand roubles and ten per cent. of the production profits in addition to my usual salary. In celebration I went that evening to hear Boito’s “Mephisto” at the opera and, as I turned in later, dreamed how I should on the morrow show my invention to my employer. I felt then that I should be also able to say to myself that I was at last back on the sure path of honest, scientific work. Immediately after breakfast the next morning I went to my laboratory to take my notes, report, statement of cost and samples to the owner; but instead of a simple and easy crowning of my efforts, I was met with a catas- trophe, a real and tragic catastrophe for me in those timesCPE een ee oe cae edae OUT OF THE STONE SACK 347 and circumstances. The lock of my desk was broken, and all my records and materials had disappeared. I went at once to the factory office to see the owner but was told that he had left the previous evening for St. Peters- burg and that he would not be back for a week. When he arrived and I told him of what had happened, he smiled and said that I was a naive and not very care- ful man. From his expression I understood at once that he was not naive and careless and that it was he who had robbed me. When I told him this without equivocation, he did not take offence but simply smiled in triumph and answered: “You have no proof of it, while I have registered the Aflamite in St. Petersburg. There is nothing to be done about it. This is the struggle for existence.” My first wave of impulse was to try on this crass thief the strength of my muscles, which are also at times weapons in the struggle for existence; but, as I was just on the point of doing so, I saw before me, like a spectre, the dark prison building and within its walls the figures of those who had been chuted into the stone bags because they followed, without thinking or weighing the conse- quences, their first impulses of indignation and revenge. I shuddered at the picture and slackened the tension of my muscles and fists. I looked straight into the cold, shameless eyes of the man who had stolen the products of my mind—I looked steadily and for so long a time that he was troubled; and then without changing my gaze, I said distinctly: “You are a common thief. You have wronged a man who has done no evil to you or to any of his kind and who has passed through long months of torture and prison. You knew of all this and took advantage of it, certain that I could not secure justice before the law; but348 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON God, the Impartial Judge, will not pardon you. I see in my mind’s eye that, before a year is ended, you will die and go before His Tribunal.”’ I turned and went out, so disappointed and disgusted at the man that I did not even call for the rest of my salary. I hired a room in a cheap hotel and began once more the search for employment. Throughout the fol- lowing days I visited various industrial plants and sugar factories in South Russia, offering my services as a chem- ist, but everywhere my revolutionary past blocked the way for me. Then one day a police official came to me with this encouraging bit of information: “Your former employer, the owner of the asphalt fac- tory, has notified us that you were a political prisoner. If you had a stable occupation, we could wink at your remaining in Kieff; but, inasmuch as you have no em- ployment, the Governor wants you to know that you will be given twenty-four hours in which to leave Kieff and that, if you are not away within this time, you will be returned to St. Petersburg in a convict car for reference to the authorities there.” That same night I left Kieff in a depressed and de- spondent state of mind, as I was very near to the bottom of my treasure chest. I needed no bookkeeping to tell me this, for, after I had paid the inn account and bought my ticket to St. Petersburg, I had only seven roubles left.CHAPTER XXXIV THE FETTERS CUT Noa I went to Professor Zaleski. Human nature is very strange. When | lived with Professor Zaleski before, I was always invited by him to luncheon and dinner and accepted his invitations without scruple, as I knew that I was able to extend the same courtesies to my old friend and patron. But after my return from Kieff, with very little hope of improving my situation and almost destitute,—as those seven roubles were not suff- cient capital to insure me against the morrow,—l be- came very touchy and felt that I was then a burden for Zaleski, an intruder into his quiet home; that I was ex- ploiting him and that to accept his hospitality under these circumstances was shameless and unwarrantable. Consequently I changed my whole mode of living. I never have been what one would call rich, yet I have always possessed enough to permit me to lead the life of a cultured man, as I have worked since I was twelve years old and, therefore, both know how to work and am inured to it. But, after the blot of this prison term on my existence, I found the tools of life knocked from my hands and myself left weak, without the ability to help by my own conscientious effort. It was the revenge of the Tsar’s Government and the pusillanimity of those who could have helped me by giving me work but who were afraid of the police that killed the hope in me. 349he hice oe Be 4) 350 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON I had seven roubles and must watch every kopeck, and | I wanted to accept nothing from Zaleski. I quitted the house in the morning while the Professor was still asleep | and left a card with the servant, telling him that I should | not be back for luncheon or dinner. I tramped from one factory to another, then from one office to another, but ) nowhere was there any work for me. I did not write to | my mother, as I did not wish to give her pain or thoughts that would rob her of her peace. I dined in a far from premier rang restaurant, where my meal cost me fifteen | kopecks (seven and a half cents). When I returned | home in the evening, I always put on a bold face and appeared as care-free and cheerful as I could before the Professor. One evening I happened to have come in before he had arrived, but in a very few minutes he burst into the hall and began calling me. I ran to him and was struck by the picture of the waving white locks and the over-excited eyes of my usually calm old patron. “Read, read!” he almost shouted, as he handed me the evening paper. ig He pointed out to me an item in the column of city accidents, which he had underscored with red. There was the news that my former employer, the owner of the asphalt factory, while driving through the Nevsky Pros- pect, had been seized with a fit of apoplexy and had died immediately afterwards. “You're a sorcerer!’ exclaimed Zaleski, as I finished reading. “You foretold death for him, and he seemed in a great hurry to verify your prophecy.” | But this did not alter at all my material state, and I found myself wandering through the town the following morning quite as usual and dreaming about a dinner for fifteen kopecks. An incident occurred on this particular ee SEG Td aoe tba leeds Tem eee Ba a estes akse ee aa) BEES rare Sit oe SMES ee A ae PeayFee e ee THE FETTERS CUT 351 day which dealt a new blow to my suffering and ever increasingly hopeless soul. 1 happened upon two ac- quaintances in the street who pretended not to have rec- ognized me. However, when I went up to them, one of them warned me: “Don’t stop and speak with us! Such a persecution has been organized by the police for those who have any intercourse with political prisoners or the anti-Govern- ment leaders that to be caught talking with you or to acknowledge acquaintance with you can bring us into serious trouble. We are very sorry, but you realize that we must think of ourselves and of our families.” And with this they hurried away without looking be- hind. Then it is a fact! I am as one tainted or as a leper. Men are afraid of me. And, allied by such thoughts as these, despair took a still stronger hold on my soul. I saw only misery before me. Who would give me work under such systematized persecution by the policer It seemed as though an unscalable wall had been set across my path of life. That evening, while I was scanning the newspapers in the study of Professor Zaleski, I saw an advertisement to the effect that a certain Mr. Rass was starting a news- paper and desired some additional assistants on his staff. The idea at once struck me of going and offering the services of my pen. Without losing any time, I got up and went at once. In the editorial rooms I was met by a stout, witty, very self-possessed, good-fellow sort of an individual. “Oh, I have heard about you!” he gave me in welcome. Feeling rather confident that he greeted everyone in the same way, I did not stop to discuss his knowledge of my career, which was rather oppressing me by its insistent352 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON intrusion into my affairs, but turned at once to take up matters of business. “Write me something gay and satirical, as I, who can always spot my man, perceive that you are a very humor- ous character,” came from the editor between the puffs of his cigar. “Very well, and when am I to bring it to you?” “To-morrow afternoon at two. I shall pay you on Monday, as the first number of my newspaper, called Dawn, will appear on all the news stands on Sunday. Oh, I shall make quite a change in the journalism of to-day, quite a change, I assure you; for I have a very unusual staff, quite exceptional in fact.” Until late in the night I wrote a gay, satirical feuille- ton. Through it I laughed at everything; consequently I laughed at my hunger, my despair, my disenchantment; about the pusillanimity and the baseness in men; about fortunate and unfortunate ones; about life and even about death. Only a man who was really hungry could have written in such a careless and flippant manner. The editor was enchanted—but I had two days to wait for my pay and only forty kopecks left as working capi- tal to finance my operations of life for the interim. Finally Monday came and I hurried to the editorial rooms of Dawn little behind its diurnal namesake. The door was open, and the janitor was sweeping papers out of the rooms, from which all the furniture had disap- peared. “Where is Mr. Rass?” I queried, feeling my legs giv- ing way underneath me. “He went away without paying us a kopeck,” the man answered with a curse. I wandered out into the street and began inquiring among the news-dealers about this weekly Dawn, which353 THE FETTERS CUT was to have made such a change in the journalistic litera- ture of the capital. Nobody seemed to have heard any- thing about it, and only later I learned that Rass had re- ceived a license to publish a weekly, had collected money for advertisements and had disappeared, leaving behind him a heap of manuscripts among which was one entitled “Gay Thoughts Upon Sad Matters.” This event was the last straw. For two days I ate nothing, spent all the time in the parks, thinking about nothing, dreaming about nothing; and, if I was conscious of a thought, I would hear myself repeating: “Now I understand you! Now I understand !’ It was clear that my thoughts swung continuously back to the prison and were picturing those whom life, in merciless disregard, had pushed to the final fall, when their thoughts and wishes were dominated by hunger, hate and revenge. At the close of these involuntary fast days I went back to the Professor’s house late in the evening after he was asleep. On the third day L rose as usual and went to the park, where I sat on a bench and looked straight ahead of me without purpose or feeling. Carts, carriages and motors rolled by; crowds of people streamed along in front of me; laughter, gay conversation, church bells and the warble of birds mingled with thousands of others to make up the world of meaningless sounds. I understood clearly that all this was not for me, that I must look upon it as out of another world. The shadow of Drujenin passed before my eyes and, in spite of myself, 1 envied him for having broken the chain that bound him to the galling ball of life. Near me on the bench was a young mat, light-hearted and laughing, and with him a girl with happy, sparkling eyes. I again had the distinct impression of being inaf) wet +: = ee 354 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON another world, strange to all those who surrounded me. I felt that they certainly did not see me, that I was, as it were, an imperceptible shadow. “You will endure everything, my son,” suddenly floated in to me, as though across the thin ether from that other world in which I had once known a mother. Involuntarily I smiled and said aloud: “Mother, do you see, I cannot endure, I cannot!” “What did you say?” asked the young man, looking at me with astonishment. With difficulty I got up and wandered off, without any aim and without conscious thought. I had no idea where I was going or how long I had been walking away from the answer to that question, and only a puff of unusually cold air brought me to myself again. I looked around and found myself on a bridge cross- ing the Neva. I stopped and leaned over the railing. Already the sun had dropped below the horizon, which one never sees in the big towns, and darkness began to crawl out from all the alleyways and the river ends of passages and drains. I felt a disagreeable gnawing of hunger in my stomach and a terrible void in my breast. I felt as though I had no heart or lungs in my chest, only the void left by the consuming ravages of despair. And then through the railings I saw the river, deep and swift, flowing in mad, angry swirls of protest at be- ing confined by granite walls and split by piers of stone, speeding down to gain the freedom of the sea. Lashing the bridge pillars with loud and foaming splashes, madly it beat against the stones and retreated in whirlpools of foam and a chaos of baffled movement. Under its influence decision sprang up within me, dic- tating the last violent act that should relieve me of all pain and suffering, of my hopeless strife against the dom-DE oe acetal ee Po a Lb cdf nine na ated a THE FETTERS CUT 355 built these bridges and forged chains les as unbreakable as these founda- faced and baffled the futile inating power that around subject peop tions of stone, that always efforts of the stream. I had raised one foot to the rail to bend back and jump ‘nto the water. In my mind was the thought that the swirling current would catch me and carry me under- neath the bridge and down the hundred yards to a group of anchored barges, loaded with logs and planks, where I would be quickly sucked down beneath the hulls and ato the network of anchors and chains and be freed from all my physical and mental strife. Another moment and I should have been in the water, but just at that instant I was held by a piercing cry that came from directly behind me. I shuddered and looked around, to see a man, poorly clad and desperate with despair, climb abruptly over the bridge rail and jump into the water. Without even stopping to look for him, I ran across to the down-stream side of the bridge, where there was some life-saving apparatus, and began throw- ing into the stream some big cork balls and a life ring that hung beside them. Once I had these overboard, I looked down and saw the man floating along, helplessly and frantically waving his arms, whenever he came to the surface, and shouting the frightened appeals of a despairing drowning man. In a second he caught sight of the life ring just a few yards below him and struggled, with awkward, unskilled movements, to try to keep himself afloat until he could reach it. At the same time a lifeboat of the river police shot out from down below, in response to the cries of the guard on the bridge, and shortly pulled him out, pale, trembling and dumb with fright. When the boat came ashore, I went down and lookedat tere) Puors ray 356 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON into the eyes of the rescued man. He seemed then very | close to me, as we had stood together in the face of death and he had essayed the contest first. I was astonished, as I read in his eyes such a wish for life and such a joy | that I had the impression I even heard his triumphal | cry on his return to men, to the movement of the world ve and to the struggle for existence. I felt no more hunger or despair. I had no idea yet as to what I was to do or what was to become of me; but I seemed sure that God would not allow me to perish, as He had not permitted this second unfortunate being to end his life in a moment of despondency and gloom. I left the bridge and went back in the direction of the oe park. There in front of me was an electric sign, inter- | mittently flashing the words “Coillou’s Cigarette Tubes.” Hardly conscious of what I was doing, I read the address of the factory and went all the way across to the other end of the town to search it out. The factory office was already closed, but I succeeded in convincing the gateman that I must see the manager at once to talk with him about an urgent matter. In a few minutes I was stand- ing in the administration office before a red-haired, pale and sallow man, sitting behind a big desk. “What do you want?” “Am I speaking to the manager?” “Yes,” he answered, surveying me attentively. “T beg your pardon for coming to you out of office hours, but I am forced to do it, as I want work.” “We have no vacancy,” he grunted. “And, besides, why did you come to us? Are you a specialist in this sort of manufacturing?” “T don’t know why, but something dictated to me that I come here,” I answered and then told him about my former life and my present straits. he Rc RR ET nterent cae Laue IGG me eee ee e = op : REE OTE ate iis oh AS ol vee rer eae Sepsis Lie sehe hte Steere 3 THE FETTERS CUT 357 “Unfortunately we have no work for a chemist,” he finally said as a regretful ultimatum. “T beg your pardon for having disturbed you,” 1 half whispered and rose to go out, when the manager stopped me with the words: “Please wait a moment. I shall return at once.”’ Almost immediately he did come back with a second gentleman, who turned out to be the owner of the factory. “My chief wants to make a proposal to you for a piece of work to be undertaken at your own risk. Do 3 you understand ?’ “What is it?” I asked with something between enthu- siasm and despair. “A firm, which is competing with ours, makes cigarette tubes with a cotton insert that absorbs the nicotine. How they prepare this cotton is their secret. If you could de- velop something similar, we should at once pay you five hundred roubles and should give you one thousand roubles annually for a period of ten years. What do you think? But I repeat once more that all the laboratory expenses are for your account, whether you succeed or not.” After finishing his sentence, the manager looked at me with questioning eyes and wondered evidently whether I had any experience to go on. I realized at once what cotton was needed for absorbing the poisonous alkaloid of nicotine and already saw myself completing the ex- periment and earning food. “T have every reason to believe the work will be suc- cessful,’ was my verbal answer; whereas my actions hardly supported my declaration, as I suddenly felt an ‘rresistible dizziness coming over me and fell, almost fainting, into the chair behind me.358 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON “What's the matter? What ails you?’ asked the frightened manufacturers, as they chafed my hands and gave me water. “I felt faint.” “Are you ill?” the manager asked. “I am hungry,” was the unwilling answer which my pride permitted my sincerity to release. These two manufacturers were generous and noble men, whose names I cannot refrain from giving, as I feel that I owe to them so much more than they ever realized from my ordinary expressions of gratitude during the days we worked together. One was Mr. Francis Coillou, the other Mr. M. A. Shapliguin. For three days they fed me and cared for me, all in a most delicate manner, as I would not accept money from them. I had gone right to work in Professor Zaleski’s laboratory on my experiments. My theoretical assump- tions proved correct in practice, as I developed a cotton that absorbed twenty-five per cent. of nicotine. I asked Professor Zaleski to check my results and give me a certificate of his findings. As his examination of my compound verified my own claims, I was that same day armed with his regular professional statement and, after having given my cotton a nice pink hue, I took it at once along to the factory. When the Municipal Chemical Laboratory tested my samples, they reported that it absorbed thirty per cent. of the nicotine, which was ten per cent. more than the amount retained by the cotton of the rival firm. On the following day I was already a rich man, for the firm immediately paid me the five hundred rouble bonus and another five hundred as a half of the first year’s royalty, which not only made me sure about the morrow but of many to-morrows and gave me the necessary opportunityRRR Ono ne not Sere rte Meese Sane eee eee fee Peete eee a - gh gyreernemmies + asap i “San pone nota rot tee Sea areata ee ete sega aoe kes aig a dt es ee ae re, 4 ey \ aoa * “ae = hab, PEPLE RS CUL 359 to look around and seek for a stable and satisfactory means of livelihood. Out of those indescribably trying and soul-searching days, when the whole weight of the Tsar’s machine = seemed bent upon crushing the life out of me, two glar- g ingly significant and incongruous facts burned themselves 2 into my memory and my soul. The first was that, try as a all the previously proud strength of my mind and body 2 could, I had not been able “to endure” and to respond to that voice of my mother which floated in to me, as I =: sat in hunger and despair on the park bench. The second &g was that Chance’should have taken the credit of accom- eS plishing that which all my physical, mental and spiritual effort could not effect, and that two men, of whose exist- ence I did not previously even know, and a handful of pink cotton should have proved themselves able to change the whole course of my life. It seemed as though some Power, not within myself and greater far, were seeking to give me a final lesson of sympathy and understanding for the other atoms of Human Dust to whom Chance had not come with a ball of pink cotton and who were not one whit weaker than I had proved myself to be. Often afterwards, when working in the laboratory or at my desk, I thought that the most thrilling and trying experiences of life were already behind me. I did not dream then that I should one day come face to face with beasts, men and gods, who were to embody all the extreme and incredible passions and powers of the mundane universe; that I should again have to wander through the marshes and meshes of Oriental lands and strange events. I had no thought that it would be or- dained that I should be immersed and swept on in the wildest maelstrom of modern madness and perverted360 FROM PRESIDENT TO PRISON psychic impulses; and that, from right out of the centre of millions of perishing men, I should be filched from the struggling mass by a whirling eddy of Chance and be thrown up on the shore such as I am, sound in mind and body, not afraid to fight and possessed of the strong conviction that Life is the beautiful gift of Almighty God.Creroasenan tats i ee a Re ig ses St4 oe Re at sos see TF aa a re iz a 23 } bu Pa ts 7 aaa seui aaaaentihe ihre poe ot bt ai ae — foie z > fe AeA 7 TSR aT ea at ea sate Pasha st sitds sais AWGGGI pant a a ee iyi eee Teer CEH SRA RP ALDERMAN LIBRARY The return of this book is due on the date indicated below MAY-3°0-1963 " qe epee eee JY, JAM Lib64 ¥ Usually books are lent out for two weeks, but there are exceptions and the borrower should note carefully the date stamped above. Fines are charged for over-due books at the rate of five cents a day; for reserved books there are special rates and regulations. Books must be presented at the desk if renewal is desired. L-1perepaperetneeee tata eon Ties phy pel eeeer eters icy Fae - ‘ o re Oe ea EP OS OI gE IRS see a iad ay 7 cx 000 749 Sbb